The Queen’s Court describes a particular ‘game of tradition’, i.e. a game that anyone can start playing at any time, and end at any time. It only requires a few particulars.

The Particulars

Of course, the game requires at least two people, with no upper limit, except that determined by the players.

Firstly, the one beginning it must see an opportunity to lay claim to a Queen’s Court. The Queen’s Court can take place in any situation, whether in your home, at a restaurant, at a park, at a coffee shop, anywhere. What does it mean to ‘lay claim to a Queen’s Court’?

It means that you own that space, as a caretaker. It doesn’t necessarily belong to you in the sense of a possession, but the responsibility to care for it and the people in that space does. You have entered a specific imaginary realm, and you announce your decision to do so by saying, “Welcome to my Table!”* If the others present reply, “Hats off!”, and form a circle, they become Nobles, and everyone has consented to the formation of the Queen’s Court. If someone present doesn’t reply with “Hats off!”, because they do not consent, then the Court may allow them to stay as a ‘Page’, or must relocate. In any case, a Court must contain only consenting Nobles. ‘Pages’ stay at the permission of the Nobles, with non-Noble status, no responsibilities, and must leave the circle at any time a Noble announces “Nobles alone!”. This does not require consensus.

The Space

Once you’ve created the Queen’s Court, the one leading it can play all kinds of eloquence games in that space. As the Host of the Queen’s Court, they have the option of setting and determining roles for certain supporting games, such as Host’s team and Guest’s team.

The consent of the players to rise to the status of ‘Nobles’, means they agree to play any eloquence game within the space, comporting themselves if not with total dignity, then at least with panache and florid speech.

One can announce one’s disengagement from the space and from Noble status by saying nothing more than, “I offer up my seat!”, waiting for those present to affirm this with, “We accept!”. To enter vacated space, or to enter as a new player, you can say “I ask for a seat!”. If those present consent, they’ll respond with “The Queen accepts it!” Everyone in the circle must consent in order to invite players from outside the space. They can also spontaneously offer a seat to one who has not yet requested to participate.

If those present refuse a returning or new player by not arriving at consensus, they can answer any inquiries with “The Queen denies it.”

Adjourning the Queen’s Court

To close the space, the Host has but to say, ‘I offer up this Table!”. In acknowledgement, the others playing say “Hats on!”, affirming the closing of the space, and the game. At this time, anyone else can lay claim to the space as a Queen’s Court.

How to improve your ability to grieve openly and cleanly, and put the “fun” back in Funerals!

If you wonder why this would matter at all…um, well…

A) The wild green world actually likes crybabies. Vulcans, robots, and techpriests really scare it. So learn how to cry like a baby, fer cry’s - sake

C) Get some emotional range, people! [pause while I decide to start taking my own advice]

Pick someone who died, whose funeral you missed, or in which you didn’t really cry well. Get some pictures of them (as many as you can find). Any possessions of theirs you’ve got, or others have (and don’t need anymore), grab ‘em.

Get some friends together - the ones you can trust to get a bit nutty. Maybe even a musician or two.

Make a little shrine out of the pictures and objects. Enjoy it - take some time at it. Make it pretty. Serve lots of water.

Circle up around the shrine. Get into mood. Grab a glass of water, dip your thumb into it. Let a drop fall of the end of your thumb onto your little shrine. You’ve just let water shed the first tear.

Now your turn has arrived! Start talking about the dead one - introduce them. If necessary, lie about how much they rocked. Tell amazing stories, whether you remember them or not. Make stories up. Paint them as heroic and beautiful as possible. Make up poems about them. Sing songs that tear your heart up. Take turns, bouncing around the circle, everyone trying their hand at beautiful lies, and heart rending expression. Make weeping noises. Really imitate someone in the throes of grief, to the point where you may even begin to lose it yourself. Think about other things that make you sad. Grab your hair and thrash around. Fall on your knees. Get into it! Beat your chest. Cry!

Coaching point: you can kick start the grief maelstrom sometimes by imitating the universal sound of grief, a strange moaning sound, somewhat like “ehhhhhhhhuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”, with a kind of raspy sound in your throat, and rocking back and forth. Fun!

C’mon! Really get into it!

Egg each other on. See who can get the most into it, the most over-the-top. The game ends when you all feel exhausted.

Extra points for:
Awkwardness
Inappropriateness
Embarrassing moments
Frazzled appearance
Soiled clothing.
Running mascara.
Burning and/or burying photos and possessions of the dead

Many versions of this game exist.

Host vs. Guest

Pick two sides, randomly or let them self-organize. You want the sides to number roughly the same.

If no intrinsic Host/Guest role exists in your situation, flip a coin to determine which role goes to which side.

Pick a team name, corresponding to a natural element of creation…animals, weather, landscape, etc.

Guests knock on the imaginary door.

Hosts open it, and begin the harangue, starting Round 1.

Round 1
First Hosts speak, Guests listen. Then they trade.

Round 2
Same, raising the eloquence stakes.

Round 3
Hosts concede, Guests listen. Guests accept, Hosts listen.

Goals:

Goal for Host: Play down the Host’s home, hospitality, wealth. Play up the Guest’s importance, fineness, and too-high of station for the Host’s home. Convince the Guests that they won’t feel satisfied with the Host’s home, only capitulating in Round 3 if the Guests persist.

Goal for Guest: Play down the Guest’s station, importance, fineness. Play up the Host’s. Convince the Host team that the Guest team will feel satisfied with the Host’s home, only capitulating in Round 3 if the Hosts won’t back down.

Options:
“Mentors” - Pick one Speaker and one Coach for each side. The Speaker only says what the Coach whispers into the Speaker’s ear.

Styles - Pick a style for the sides to emulate. “Rhetorical”, “Musical”, “Rhyming”, etc.

If you live in the bioregion of Cascadia (and even if you don’t), you need to learn Chinuk Jargon!

Not only do place-names across the region suddenly illuminate themselves once you’ve learned the trade language of Chinuk Jargon, but the language has always served as a cross-cultural talk for those living and working in this area.

Working people here, from northern California to Alaska, and east to Montana, for hundreds of years have spoken this language. If you fished, hunted, crafted, or harvested in any way, and traded, you most likely spoke some form of the Jargon.

As many forms of the Jargon existed as did cultures speaking it; now it contains influences of French, English, Hawaiian, and more, along with the original indigenous foundations of the language.

So learn and play with it; allow your culture to shape it, and allow it to shape your culture.

A good beginning place to start:

The Chinook Book.