A bit of the sun’s filament did actually erupt and separate from the sun (you can read more about it here), and although “A PIECE OF THE SUN FELL OFF” is a very nonspecific and unscientific way of explaining it, it’s the funnier way.
Also, I got like 8 hours into drawing and coloring this strip when I realized my joke was just a medieval version of the This is Fine joke… but like, a piece of the sun just FELL OFF… so… these are the jokes. 🤷🏻
I do have some funny historic background on this comic, so if you want to know what’s up with the happy stabbed man, keep scrolling.
Otherwise, I hope you’re doing OK these days—I know the news cycle can feel like a barrage of the battiest batshittery imaginable. Each new story feels like a stab in the gut (or head) and it can be hard to smile through it.
Maybe it’s the absurdity, I wonder, that makes it a little more bearable. If tomorrow we woke up knee-deep in the sludge of an exploded tanker, or fighting off UFOs with our fists, or whirling through space straight into a newly-discovered black hole, wouldn’t that just be the least surprising, most lifelike thing in the universe? And doesn’t that make every bit of beauty, every ounce of compassion, every sliver of connection feel all the more miraculous?
It’s a ride, but I’d probably go again, if I could.
NOW, ON TO THE ART HISTORY!
This illustration (which has been memefied all over the internet) is from a book called the Codex Menasse, a kind of “Top Hits” collection of German poetry, copied down and illustrated for the wealthy Menasse family. The full-page drawing is just as deliciously vivid and hilarious as you’d imagine:
This page depicts a poet named Reinmar von Brennenberg, who was probably alive around the mid- to late-1200s.
Funny enough, the Reinmar von Brennenberg who was famous for his poems was probably not the same Reinmar who got murdered by a bunch of dudes with a bunch of swords. There were no less than four Reinmar von Brennenbergs living in 1200s Germany, so you can see why the Codex creators might have been confused.
Modern historians now believe that Reinmar the II was likely the famous poet, while his son Reinmar the III was the one who was stabbed to death.
It’s rough out there for a Reinmar von Brennenberg.
There’s also no historical indication that he actually did smile through his own bloody goring, so we have to assume that this was the illustrator’s attempt at depicting a “neutral” expression, which (as we know) was all the rage in medieval art.
Why were they like this? Well, art historians don’t know for sure, but it’s likely that medieval artists didn’t want their artistic renditions to distract from the message of whatever story they had illustrated. They wanted to just give it to us, straight:
That’s why you get those amazing “neutral” expressions, whether someone’s being gored alive or burning in a fiery hell pit.


Eve’s full, adult head poppin up from a rib like a human lollipop? BO-RING.
There are literally thousands of examples—too many to cover here. If you do want more medieval tomfoolery in your life, you can always follow @discardingimages on instagram. Their selection is incredible, and they typically include their sources with every post, so you can always go digging for more.
And who wouldn’t want to go digging for more?
Love to you all,
❤️🔥Becca Lee, Haunted Librarian❤️🔥
"A barrage of the battiest batshittery imaginable" is the perfect way to describe the events of the past...ALL TIMES!
Seriously, great post!
Thank you for this today, the day that a piece of the sun broke off.