The great Bizboz was one of Professor Zilbarion’s students at Galepath University. Bizboz knew Litbo Mumblehum, the university librarian well; he and the librarian had often enjoyed long conversations on all sorts of topics. Before Litbo moved to Largoneth in 398 GUE, he passed on his estimable store of knowledge to the an up-and-coming scholar of the mystic arts, Bizboz. Bizboz had frequently mentioned his desire to return to Galepath University after graduation as a full member of the faculty and in the fifth century he could collaborate there with a close friend, Dinbar who returned to Galepath in the summer of 407. Together, these two students of the mystic arts thoroughly examined ancient writings on mystic subjects, one which was formally dubbed Thaumaturgy. The works they produced are still hailed by historians today as the ultimate advances in the study of the magical arts.

In 459, professor Bizboz wrote a lengthy pamphlet entitled “On the Evil of the Zucchini Plant,” a work not well remembered for its insightful intellectual content, but important nevertheless in that it firmly establishes Bizboz’s place right at the center of the Zucchini Controversy. In fact, it has often been suggested that Bizboz’s unquenchable hatred of zucchini led him to direct his first tentative magical experiments towards the unfortunate plant, experiments that supposedly culminated in the horrible zucchini blights of the 460s and 470s resulting in much conflict all across Quendor. Whether or not Bizboz himself can be held accountable for the horrible famines that spread with the death of the zucchini harvests, it is clear that he and his circle, especially Dinbar and Gustav Peggleboz, were key players in these events.

As political matters remained stagnantly gripped with zucchini’s, academic institutions were advancing in leaps and bounds. Apart from secessions, usurpations, and civil wars which followed one after the other wreaking havoc on the stability of the small Quendoran nation, the light of intellectual fervor burned stronger than ever. Following Yoruk and Peggleboz, Dinbar and Bizboz in particular emerged from the obscurity of the times to give living proof that the Dimly-Lit Era could not last forever. Although the accomplishments of Dinbar have been obscured by the passage of time, Bizboz has left several volumes of writing that have utterly revolutionized the way Quendorans think about science, magic, and the relationship between the two.

Thaumaturgy’s canonical work was written in 473 by Bizboz is also the date at which most scholars assign to the beginning of the Empirical Age, which would last until 683. This seminal book, “On the Presence of Incredibly Weird Stuff Going On” which would later become, arguably, the most influential (and least read) book of all time, remains the most heavily scrutinized and controversial scientific study ever published. A genius before his time, the mage Bizboz tackled this serious study of the laws of magic. He claimed to have discovered “for-the-most-part natural rules” that explained the order of the “Weird Stuff” which he and several other deviant researchers had been experimenting with. He claimed to have harnessed a natural energy, called magic, and used it to create “spells.” The book gave long dissertations on the useful application of spells like NERZO (“for balancing checkbooks”); UMBOZ, (“for tedious housecleaning duties”); and YUMZO, (“for destroying mongeese”). In his lifetime, Bizboz was able to birth five new spells into the community.

Though his technique was undeniably fruitful and his research infallible, sadly, the work was ridiculed by the leading scholars of the time and Bizboz was ostracized by his colleagues and laughed out of the faculty at Galepath University. His findings blatantly contradicted the teachings of almost every professor at the University. They refused to even waste their time “rationalizing this nonsense.” Within months, Bizboz was stripped of all he had and reduced to panhandling on the street. His “Weird Stuff” had become nothing more than a label for potions and powders, sold by charlatans, that would supposedly cure the ills of suffering peasants.

By 473~4, the Zucchini Wars were in a position of continued military stalemate through the period of Bizboz’s discovery. The population did not sit still with the famine coupled with the oppression. Along with the blights, riots rained devastation upon the stability of the coastal provinces, snatching everyone’s mind off of laughing at Bizboz. These events were described in Bizboz’s later essays, who wrote how he missed the attention, even if it were mockery. Determined to become a legend, Bizboz committed a tragic suicide in 475 GUE. He was a great mind and his death was an incalculable loss. He never lived to see his pioneering work embraced by the community that once scorned him. For his work encouraged others in the pursuit of magical knowledge, which in time gave rise once more to the study of the unnatural sciences of magic and thaumaturgy.

Centuries later, Ozmar would say this of his work: “Science has taught us much and given us new words for old mysteries. But beneath these words are mysteries, and beneath them more mysteries. The pursuit of magic has given those mysteries meaning and provided for our people great benefits unrealized yet by science… We owe a great debt to Bizboz.”

Although historians of magic usually cite “On the Presence of Incredibly Weird Stuff Going On” as Bizboz's definitive and most influential work, it is likely that this is true simply because he wrote the treatise so close to the time of his dismissal and death. Besides his “On the Evil of the Zucchini Plant”, and later popular “The Book of Four Jokes and Learned Essays Upon Them,” an earlier work, dating from 468 GUE, that is often forgotten amidst the chaos of the time, is his crucial “On the Horrible Flatness of the World,” in which Bizboz proved once and for all that the world was not in fact spherical but was instead nothing more than a round, flat disc. This work put Bizboz in great trouble with the Brogmoidist Church, until Bizboz pointed out that a flat world would actually be easier for the Great Brogmoid to hold, allowing him to take a break and stretch his arms without the world simply rolling off his head.

When Duncanthrax returned to his homeland in the early 670s, he found that the “Weird Stuff” of Bizboz’s writings had spread like a cancer during his absence with mixed results, thus forcing him to declare the Unnatural Acts.

Although titled "four jokes", this ancient book, written both in the Mithican Old Tongue and Olde Antharian, actually contains six jokes. While the contents of the essays have not yet been translated and analyzed, some believe that this is due to the similarity between Joke #1 and Joke #2 (possibly manuscript variants), and that due to the subject matter (Illumynite not being discovered until the 1600's, a date significantly later than Bizboz) Joke #6 is a later pseudonoymous addition. Though, considering the nature of many of the jokes (i.e. References to Flatheads, lightbulbs, etc), there is a significant number of scholars who declare the entire book to be nothing but obvious pseudopigrapha.

Joke #1
    Q: How many Implementors does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
    A: I don't know. That's a hardware problem.

Joke #2:
    Q: How many grues does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
    A: None. They don't like light.

Joke #3:
    Q: Do you know why flatheads write TGIF on their shoes?
    A: Toes Go In First.

Joke #4:
    Q: Do you know why most Zork jokes are one line?
    A: So Flatheads can remember them.

Joke #5
    Q: Did you hear the one about the appetite of the wild boar in the Forest of the Spirits...
        {unfortunately, this joke has never received a proper translation}

Joke #6
    Q: How many union dwarves does it take to dig up a piece of Illumynite?
    A: Fifteen. You got a problem with that? You got a problem with that?