History of the International Society of Curmudgeons (ISOC)

The word "curmudgeon" first appeared in the English language in the mid-1500s. For most people, the origin of the word is obscure and unknown. That's probably because they believe the English invented everything in the English language. Not so!

One reason why words seem to have mysterious origins is that much of our language was borrowed from the French. In fact, before the bubonic plague took over Europe (the Black Death) in the 1340s, much of what we now know as England used Latin as the primary language. Then along came the plague and wiped out a lot of people. As with many societies, most of the people who died were in cities, where rats and fleas could easily jump from one host to another. (Damn fools, anyway! Who in their right mind would live in the filth and garbage of 16th century London?)

The largest population to survive the plague were the peasants, living out in the country - good, down-to-earth regular people. They were more spread out, so they weren't as susceptible to the disease. On the other hand, they mostly spoke "common" Latin (as opposed to "high" Latin). With so many people dead, Brittain needed more people, and so gradually the French came across the Channel to live. Political marriages being what they were, it also was useful for the English and French to form treaties through marriage.

French became an important part of sophisticated culture and the language of the high courts. Many words today come to us through that period of time. English was an emerging language, with French being a major contributor. When we talk about theft, for example, we use two legal distinctions: grand larceny, and petty larceny. In fact, "grand" is French for "big," and "petit" means "small." That word "petit" (peuh-tee) wasn't easy for people in America to pronunce, so it became "petty."

Evolution of the Word

Looking through the crypts and libraries of the Sacred Order of Coermudgeons (then pronounce "ceur-meush-awnh"), we found references to an obscure Frenchman who made a simple observation to Henry VII, the King of England back in 1498. As he and His Royal Highness were out shooting deer, this unknown Frenchman turned to the King and said something to the effect that one of the hunters was in a really bad mood. He said that this hunter had "coeur manchon," which translates to something like "heart covered in tubes or metal circles." (Not the same as poetic references to manhole covers, which were invented much later.)

The intent probably was to say that the grumpy hunter had a closed-up heart, speaking figuratively. Old Hank apparently really liked the expression, and wanted to use it all the time. From that point on, whenever anyone in the King's Court was being an old codger, coot, or (for the women) and old biddy, King Henry called them a "coeur maenh-shonh," because that's what he thought he'd heard. Over the years, whatever a King says, everyone wants to say, and so the word was shortened and mangled. As a result, today we have "curmudgeon."

Some linguistic historians suggest that the word "curmudgeon" entered the language direclty in the 1500s, probably associating with "cur," meaning "old dog." That's patently ridiculous because why would anyone point to a grumpy deer hunter and talk about dogs? The only possible explanation is that hunters in those days did use hounds (another word for dog) when hunting deer, foxes, and other such things.

A much bigger problem of this theory, however, is the word "mudgeon." Other than the Japanese word "mujin," there doesn't seem to be such a word. That being said, and in the interests of fairness, the word may be a contraction of the term "mud hen," which is a species of "coot." So a "cur mud-hen" might reference a mangy old coot, which does have a linguistic association with grumpy old farts. In fact, an old coot (in some cities) is considered to be a form of curmudgeon.

Forming a Society

Dating to as far back as the 1100s, the English were very in to orders and groups, societies and secret clubs. There were knights, monks, aristocrats, and all sorts of people who wanted their own special clubs. With grumpy people now having a label as "coeur-mu-shaun," it didn't take long before they wanted to get away from all the happy people with their smiling faces, and be free to practice grumpiness in peace.

In 1547, the Sacred Order of Coeur Meushonhs was formed by a group of knights who were pissed off about changes in the quality of armor and broadswords. They'd complained to the royal courts, taken their case to the Lords, and basically been told to go away and quit complaining. Along the way, these initial knights found a sympathetic ear in many of the clergy, who at the time were upset about the never-ending arguments between Rome and England.

If it only had been a number of knights and some drunken clergymen forming the Order, nothing much would have become of the group. But through fate and destiny, it happened that William Shakespear heard about the society. He brought along some of his friends, particuarly Francis Bacon, Christopher Marlowe, and Edward de Vere, the Earl of Oxford. These men later became part of a conspiracy to confuse the issue of whether or not Bill Shakespear was really the author of many of the now-famous plays.

With a conspiracy to discuss, and the fact that England was going to hell in a handbasket, the Sacred Order was launched. Over the ensuing centuries, it became known to inner circles of intellectuals and elites as a way to blow off steam, relax with some like-minded friends, and to step away from the follies of a world gone mad. An increasing number of important political, cultural, academic, and clerical figures found themselves drawn to the organization.

Consolidation

Following World War II, with the formation of what would become the United Nations, it became apparent to the political leaders of the world that some sort of central organization was needed for the purpose of helping with illness and disease. The World Health Organization (WHO) came into being, acting as an umbrella organization for many of the separate societies and associations around the globe.

In 1949, upon his retirement from the Brittish Navy, Admiral Thurston Cornelius Plop was the Grand Cantankerite of the Sacred Order of Curmudgeons. The word "curmudgeon" (and name) had evolved by then, likely through the influence of adult beverages, tobacco, and opium. In a series of meetings with Jean-Claude St. Charmaine, Secretary General of W.H.O., Admiral Plop agreed to bring the Sacred Order under the auspices of the World Health Organization.

To accomplish this, and broaden the reach of the organization, a consensus vote was called for across the entire membership at the time. That consensue led to the eventual change of the society's name to what we know today as The International Society of Curmudgeons (ISOC). The charter, derived from W.H.O., was then put into place so as to offer resources, learned articles, support and a network of sorts to older people around the world. Retired Admiral Plop became the first Secretary General of the ISOC in 1957.

Although a periodic question is put forth in annual meetings as to whether or not the ISOC should include some sort of social networking, it never succeeds. None of the members tend to feel particularly sociable, nobody can agree, and whatever anyone tries to accomplish ends up being wrong, according to the majority of voters. As such, the ISCO remains an unusual organization of people who grudgingly accept that one or two people in history may have known what they were doing, but most of them are wrong.

Licensure

With modern civilization moving at an increasingly rapid pace, the art of complaining is becoming more critical to the peace and well-being of the planet. To better manage the proper forms and procedures of complaining, the ISOC introduced the certificate of licensure in 1968 as a first line of defense against the invasion of rock-and-roll. Being older and wiser, curmudgeons, coots, and biddies may not be as quick on their feet as they used to be, but they're far more crafty than young people.

A Licensed Master Curmudgeon (LMC) has a critical responsibility in these increasingly troubled times. To better access the world of nitwits and known-nothings, one of the few things the members of the ISOC were able to agree upon was that some sort of certicate or license was necessary. And so, the license to complain came into effect, along with the "LMC" professional designation. Now older, wiser, and often retired citizens of the world can include an actually useful organization to their list of social "groups," so often requested in biographies and obituaries.