Here are some of the people whose status as a lunatic hasn’t stopped them from rising to great things. People such as…

The Man Who Built His Own Castle

For three years – from 1867 to 1870 – Irishman Johnny Roche built this towering monstrosity in County Cork. Watching him gathering stones from the river by hand, digging away furiously, and drawing lime in his ancient cart pulled by an equally decrepit donkey, many quickly jumped to the glaring truth that he was mad. The castle, which was constructed with less tools than it takes to put up a shelf, was nicknamed Castle Curious by envious locals, desperate to know why he had a castle and they didn’t. Upon completion of the structure, Roche did what any madman would do, he moved into the building with its labyrinth of rooms and stayed there for the rest of his life.

He didn’t encourage callers and, thanks to a private well inside the castle walls, was able to pull up his drawbridge whenever he felt inclined. St Bernard’s Holy Well, however, lay only a few feet from the castle walls and Johnny Roche, afraid that his privacy was threatened, would lean out of a tower window and hurl abuse at the pilgrims. His epitaph says all you need to know about this glorious figure (except the obvious bit about the castle)

Here lies the body of poor John Roche.

He had his faults but don’t reproach;

For while alive his heart was mellow;

An artist, genius and gentle fellow.’

The Tramp Who Ruled America

In 1859, at the age of forty and already bankrupt, Joshua Abraham Norton sent a letter to the San Francisco Bulletin proclaiming himself Emperor of the United States. On what must have been a slow news day the document was printed on the front page, signalling the epic start of Norton’s reign. For the next 21 years he revelled in his self-appointed task. He printed his own bonds, levied taxes, demanded that Congress be abolished and turned up uninvited at glittering diplomatic functions, where he charmed VIPs with his wit, barking insanity and smell of ammonia.

People he met in the street bowed and curtsied. He would pause to inspect drains, check public transport timetables and discuss the crime rate with local police. He rode free on public transport and when he died, ten thousand loyal subjects passed by his coffin in solemn respect. All in all, he was an awesome individual who has terrified me into giving beggars anything they want. All these people need his Norton’s ambition and they can rule the world.

The Man Who Ate Noah’s Ark

Frank Buckland loved animals in the same way that one loves a dear family member. He also loved animals in the same way that people love Christmas dinner. A well-respected surgeon and naturalist, his obsession with animals, coupled with a stomach as strong as the side of the Kursk, meant that his appetite to devour God’s creatures had no reason to slow down. He ate a viper. He served his guests mice on buttered toast. At a feast he served kangaroo stew. Friends who called one day found him making a huge savoury pie, filled with chunks of rhinoceros. Apparently it tasted like very ancient, very strong beef. Scrumptious.

London Zoo provided him with some rare opportunities. Hearing that a prize panther had died he begged the curator to dig it up and send him some panther chops which, he confessed later, ‘were not very good’. I think there’s a lesson for us all there. However, a fire at the giraffe house some time later soon cheered him up as heaps of succulent roast giraffe were shipped to his door.

He obviously inherited his insatiable culinary weirdness from his father, Dr William Buckland, who was said to have sampled a portion of Louis XIV’s embalmed heart. Yeah I’m wondering why too. You can just imagine the group of eminent scientists gathered around the organ of a dead king, all silently wondering who was going to be the first to suggest they just eat the bloody thing. Buckland senior was that man. He reckoned that the worst thing he had ever tasted was a mole (probably from King Louis’ backside) but on reflection confessed to an even viler dish- stewed bluebottles. Schoolboy error. Everybody knows you mash bluebottles. Frank’s own pet aversion was earwigs. He complained they tasted terribly bitter. Also, despite days of boiling, his elephant trunk soup remained too tough to eat.

The Bucklands’ wish to experience the natural world with all their sense is an inspiration to us all in our sterile, bluetoothed world of hoverboards and food pills. Now if you don’t mind there’s a handful of wasps on my window sill just crying out for a cheeky splash of balsamic. Good day.