A Horde of Ravening Fen

TOF notices that somewhere along the line he has acquired 103 "followers" who no doubt hang on his very words and await TOFian commands to go forth and smite, or something. It would have been more portentous, or at least more centennial, had it been noticed at exactly 100 followers. But TOF will honor the occasion by noting statistically that he now has 100±3σ followers.

Let's shoot for 125, shall we?

On the Connectedness of Nature

That any two things in the universe are connected can be demonstrated inductively by the magic of Google.  It is not necessary that to be computationally tractable a process must be informationally encapsulated.  Take any two words.  The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy uses "banana" and "mandolin" in an article on the Frame Problem.  If you google it, you obtain 2,690,000 hits. 

So I tried "melancholy" + "eels" and obtained 3,090,000 hits, including unlikely poetry precisely imagining melancholy eels, at a site yclept poetry-of-despair. 

Then I tried "elephant" + "petunia" only to discover that there is a plant called an elephant petunia along with 3,570,000 other hits. 

Then I opened the dictionary at random and got "theosophy" + "hemorrhage."  This yielded a mere 71,300 hits, including those with "theosophist" (at least one of whom appears to have died of a hemorrhage) and "theosophical." 

Then "canthus" (the corners where the upper and lower eyelids meet) + "deliverance."  After quote-enclosing "canthus" to avoid the homonymous "can thus," I obtained 4,240 freaking hits and learned that surgical management of carcinomas at the inner canthus involves rotation and deliverance of the flap under the glabellar skin.

Even "unobtainium" + "maple" harvested 45,300 hits. 

Your task, my devoted henchmen, is to explore this phenomenon yourselves. 

Playing the Pied Piper

I have discovered a thingie called "Followers", which lists my slavish and loyal henchmen (SALH).  These are useful folks to have around should I need a hench.  There are, however, only four.  This means that Henches of Considerable Magnitude (HOCM) might go unhenched for lack of SALH willing to throw themselves under Juggernaut's wheels so as to lubricate my progress with their life's blood. 

Zut, alors!  Must we proceed to the highways and byways so as to procure more SALHs (and thus risk the overruning of the aforesaid juggernautian wheels)?  Must we beat the bushes?  (Wait.  He's not president any more.  Never mind.)  Must we blow on our silent dog-whistles?  On our conch?  Beam the bat-signal against the ever-convenient low-hanging clouds? 

Or would additional followers only dilute the glory of being one of the few, the proud?  A difficult question. 

But with henchmanship comes duties, and what duty could be more consoling to the heart than this, your first assignment:

You are to learn and hum the planxty here: Planxty 'Liam O Floinn

This was written by the great blind harper Turlough O Carolan in honor of Uilliam O Floinn, the butler of McDermot Roe,(*) he who brought O Carolan his last drink of whiskey as he lay dying and whose name was the last to pass the great bard's lips, presumably meeting the whiskey passing the other way.  There is a link at the lower left hand corner that will connect to the music MIDI file, should you have trouble sight-reading (or should that be 'site' reading?) the musical notation. 
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(*) In 1224, the Annala Connaughta record that all the chiefs of Connaught rose up against Hugh O Connor in favor of his cousin Turlough O Connor, saving only the Marshal of the Host of Connaught, Cormac McDermot, together with David O Flynn and the rest of his officers.  It's nice to see old connections lasting even to O Carolan's time.