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Chronic Argonaut, Antipodean Anglican, Jaded Jacobite, Lugubrious Luddite, Rebarbartive Recalcitrant Reactionary & Perfidious Purveyor of Persiflage.

Secret Commonwealth of Elves
Joined July 2013
Photo by My Ear Trumpet Has Been Struck By Lightning (@MyEarTrumpet)Photo by My Ear Trumpet Has Been Struck By Lightning (@MyEarTrumpet)Photo by My Ear Trumpet Has Been Struck By Lightning (@MyEarTrumpet)Photo by My Ear Trumpet Has Been Struck By Lightning (@MyEarTrumpet)Photo by My Ear Trumpet Has Been Struck By Lightning (@MyEarTrumpet)Photo by My Ear Trumpet Has Been Struck By Lightning (@MyEarTrumpet)Photo by My Ear Trumpet Has Been Struck By Lightning (@MyEarTrumpet)Photo by My Ear Trumpet Has Been Struck By Lightning (@MyEarTrumpet)Photo by My Ear Trumpet Has Been Struck By Lightning (@MyEarTrumpet)Photo by My Ear Trumpet Has Been Struck By Lightning (@MyEarTrumpet)
To whom it may concern, I've been made redundant. I'll be cancelling all my various memberships and going inactive on various platforms for the foreseeable future. I greatly appreciate everyone that I've interacted with on the Net. Yours Sincerely, Your Humble Servant.
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Cromwellian fact of the day (featuring a book hot off the press): Oliver encouraged his son Richard to read history; specifically, Sir Walter Raleigh’s History of the World, to understand God’s role in history (a book Cromwell read as a young man). pen-and-sword.co.uk/The-Priv…
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In July 1865, after a particularly nasty gambling run, Dostoevsky signed a predatory contract with a man called Stellovsky. The contract gave him a lifeline of 3000 rubles but in exchange, Dostoevsky had to give up the rights to all of his previous work and he had to deliver a new novel by 1st November, 1866. In case he didn’t deliver the new novel? Stellovsky would get total ownership over everything Dostoevsky wrote—and all revenue he generated—for the next nine years. A terrible deal that only a broke man with serious debt would take… Facing such brutal (and legally enforceable) conditions, what did Dostoevsky do? He ignored the contract till October 1866. He had 16 months to write a novel and he didn’t write a word for the first 15 months. Then he went to Stellovsky and begged him to cancel the contract and offered some money in exchange. Stellovsky basically said: “That’s cool, but I would rather keep the contract, have you fail to deliver the promised novel, and then own you for the next 9 years.” The last escape hatch slammed shut. Dostoevsky was cornered. Dostoevsky finally had to Do The Thing. Then, in 26 days flat, Dostoevsky—with the help of his young stenographer Anna—wrote The Gambler. With a time bomb ticking under his table, Dostoevsky dug into his own psyche, borrowed from his own history, and produced a book that is still read, still discussed, and still adapted into movies (the last adaptation was in 2014 with Mark Wahlberg and Brie Larson). The deadline was 1st November—Dostoevsky submitted the manuscript on the evening of 31st October. Crushing pressure produced a brilliant literary performance... The moral of the story is NOT to gamble at the roulette wheel until you’re broke. The moral of the story is that pressure extracts ingenuity, labor, and abilities from you that comfortable times just do not. Tight corners are curses that can be alchemized into blessings.
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"The constant reading of the bible in hundreds of thousands of humble families kept a basic floor of literacy under literature as a whole, and under the English language. The variety of styles of writing so admirably represented, the relative complexity of many of the ideas involved and the range of ethical levels to be found in that great compendium of ancient Hebrew culture demanded, in its reading and in its exposition to the children, a certain mental activity, and provided for the poorer classes the same sort of cultural groundwork that the study of Greek and Latin provided for the sons of the rich. A mind accustomed to the Old and New Testaments could easily admit Shakespeare and the entire range of Victorian writing: poetry, novels, historic and scientific essays, up to the saturation point of that particular intelligence. Today the English-speaking peoples have no such common basic classical education. The bottom level is the visual and aural culture of the movies, not a literary level at all. Above that appear all sorts of gradations of illiteracy, from those who, though they may have learned to read in school, are now barely able to spell out the captions in the pictures, to those who can take in, with the help of the photographs, a few simple sentences out of the daily tabloids, right through to the several millions of actively literate people who can read right through The Saturday Evening Post or The Reader’s Digest and understand every word of it. This is the literal truth. Every statistical survey that has recently been made of literacy in this country has produced the most staggering results. We have to face the fact that the number of Americans capable of reading a page of anything not aimed at the mentality of a child of twelve is not only on the decrease but probably rapidly on the decrease." John Dos Passos An over simplification but some truth here. Albert Jay Nock had the same idea - being able to read is not the same as being literate. Brings to mind Lincoln whose formal schooling lasted about six months, perhaps a year. He succinctly summed up his educational background in 1858, when he filled out a brief biographical sketch for the upcoming Dictionary of Congress: “Education defective,” it read. Primarily self-taught he read the Bible & Shakespeare avidly. In an 1860 biography of candidate Lincoln, journalist William Dean Howells wrote that Mr. Lincoln was “a diligent student of Shakespeare, to know whom is a liberal education.” There's no denying this. Historian William E. Gienapp: "Lincoln’s gift for language was marvelous, even poetic, so much so that he is the only American president other than Thomas Jefferson whose writings can be considered literature.” As for the King James Bible: "The King James Bible came at the end of the Elizabethan age, between Shakespeare and Milton, when Englishmen were using words more passionately, richly, vigorously, wittily, and sublimely than ever before or since." Dwight Macdonald
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7 Nov 1619: Elizabeth Stuart, the older sister Charles I, crowned Queen of #Bohemia #otd as 'winter queen' she ruled for just a year (BM)
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❦ The Education of the children of Clovis - Lawrence Alma-Tadema, 1861.
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The boys’ names were Chlodomer (throwing the axe), Childebert (standing), and Chlothar (the toddler leaning on mom). The real kicker? The toddler grew up to be so utterly ruthless that he later murdered his own dead brother’s kids to steal their crowns. Pure Game of Thrones. 6/
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The training worked. The boys grew up, launched a brutal campaign against Burgundy, captured the rival king who murdered their grandparents, and threw him down a well to die. 5/
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Look closely at the background. The Catholic monks are looking highly stressed because they realize these royal toddlers are being raised on raw, generational bloodlust instead of holy scripture. Parenting hits a little different when family honor demands a body count. 4/
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The dark reality? Her own parents had been brutally assassinated by a rival king years before. Instead of shielding her children, Clotilde raised them with a single life mission: become perfect biological weapons, grow up, and wipe out the enemy's entire bloodline. 3/
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The woman seated like a stone statue on the throne is Queen Clotilde. She isn't just watching a playful game; she is actively supervising her young sons as they practice throwing lethal battle-axes at a wooden target. 2/
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Forget soccer practice or music lessons, early medieval royalty raised their kids in a literal "School of Vengeance." This 1861 masterpiece by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema captures a terrifyingly real moment in French history.🧵 1/
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💀Nyarlathotep . . . the crawling chaos . . . I am the last . . . I will tell the audient void. . . . Then Nyarlathotep came out of Egypt. He was of the old native blood & looked like a Pharaoh; the fellahin knelt when they saw him. He rose up out of the blackness of twenty-seven centuries & heard messages from places not on this planet🎨"The Ancient God" by Davide Edoardo Cassano, (aka Dec-Art)💀#HPLovecraft #Lovecraftian #Cthulhu #Dagon #Azathoth #Kraken #Yogsothoth #Nyarlathotep #Necronomicon #Gothic #Monster #Mythos #Apocalypse #HorrorArt #Horror #Scifi
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And the Klabautermann: A unique maritime variant specific to the coastal regions of Northern Germany. They dwell aboard seafaring ships, smoking wooden pipes and wearing sailor's garb. [3/3]
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Or the Heinzelmännchen: Benevolent, nocturnal gnomes famous in Cologne. They seamlessly finished all the town's baking, tailoring, and blacksmithing until human curiosity drove them away forever. [2/3]
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In Germany, they have several too, like the Domestic Kobold: Temperamental house goblins who secretly do domestic chores if fed milk or porridge. If insulted, neglected, or gifted clothes, they turn into vengeful, and destructive. 🧵[1/4]
All across European folklore, Goblins appear with different names, temperaments, and local customs. In Scotland & Northern England, you have the Redcaps: malevolent, murderous spirits in ruined border castles who dip their caps in the blood of travelers they kill. 🧵 [1/4]
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Replying to @BluebellRaven
Well, this is what happens when you bring mainland household spirits to an island and let them grow feral in the wild.😁 en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nisse_…
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Ireland has Clurichauns: Goblin-like fairy figures with a deep love for alcohol, haunting cellars, pilfering liquor, and causing drunken havoc. [4/4]
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England & Scotland have Hobgoblins: Friendly or helpful hearth-spirits that do nighttime chores, though they turn mischievous if insulted or gifted clothes. [3/4]
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In Yorkshire, we find Boggarts: Vengeful household spirits that shapeshift into animals or cause sudden illnesses and pranks when offended. [2/4]
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All across European folklore, Goblins appear with different names, temperaments, and local customs. In Scotland & Northern England, you have the Redcaps: malevolent, murderous spirits in ruined border castles who dip their caps in the blood of travelers they kill. 🧵 [1/4]
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