A long time ago and in another galaxy, in a book about the effects of disease on civilization, there was a storey about Augustine. They said that he was a drunkard, a dudlesack (sp? German bagpipes) player during the Black Plague years. One night he drank himself comatose and ended up in the dead cart with the plague victems. They didn't know that at that point the pest bearing fleas were all gone so it was a safe, if noisome place to be. Augustine was so overjoyed to be alive and NOT have the plague; he wrote a little ditty to annoy people with for the rest of his life.

Although the story was in a serious history book, it may not be true. Please remember that there is a point at which art may triumph and truth no longer matters.