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Q: What modern six-year-old thinks of the name "Celeste"?
A: They don't.
Q: How did Angel think of it then?
A: She stole it from a passerby's mind, I suppose.
Q: A passerby?
A: Some guy?
Q: Some guy? How many girls do you know named Celeste?
A: None. Sounds like the name to a dirtier girl, now that I think about it.
Q: So Angel's naming the bear off of some random schmuck's stripper-girlfriend. How the heck do you put that in six-year-old format with a T-rating audience?
A: ...*spits out half-baked mess*
About three and a half years ago:
Killarney: Hey Nathan, wouldn't it be crazy if...
(A prolonged, scientifically unprobable conversation.)
Myself: Haha, I wrote you a stupid drabble!
Killarney and others: That's hilarious, what the hell.
Myself: Wait, this idea won't die. I guess I'll flesh it out a little more...
And then I threw up messy theorizing everywhere. It was gross.
I've wound up summarizing stories from the French Revolution in simple vernacular English for someone ._.;;
...I can't wait to tell Robespierre And This One Time With A Toga.
-French Revolution nerd-
xD Care to share the story? It sounds interesting.
I said this in passing:
(I also know another story, totally uncorroborated as yet, that involves him, a shitload of papier mache, and a toga.)
Then, of course, she called me on that, and I told this one:
I can't find it anywhere. So I offer this as per the word of my high school AP Euro teacher, and whoever she heard it from.
France had been Catholic for hundreds of years. Hell, the King had the "god-given power" to pick bishops if he wanted. Everyone was Catholic. (Except the Protestants and Jews, who didn't count.)
This, however, would not do. It was counter-revolutionary.
Therefore, Robespierre brooded over some black coffee and oranges and came up with a really dumb idea that nonetheless led to a great story. Catholic God was right out. A Supreme Being? Sure why not. Nameswapping completed and some really iffy hippie-tastic woo-woo stuff written, all set.
Now, the young Republic loved parties more than anything, and he organized one such affair in the summer of what must have been 1792 or 93. They were going to put on a pageant to the Supreme Being.
With a tableau / bunch of nuts in costumes to complete it.
And who was to play the Supreme Being, triumphant atop a mountain of papier mache? Who would offer an embarrassed young lady something symbolic while dressed in an awkward toga?
Yes. None other than the Incorruptible.
Now, considering he was also part of the government responsible for coming up with a totally bonkers new calendar (with ten-day week and nonsense-word months named vaguely after weather conditions at that time of year), and that they also went as far to put some pretty fuckin' crazy inscriptions over the gates of cemeteries... I'm inclined to believe this one.
No backup leads me to put it in the realm of "crazy bullshit", much like the one where Victor Hugo puts these deathless words in the mouth of Danton:
"Yes! I am a whore. I admit it. I sold my body -- but I saved the world!"
(It's, surprisingly, not really what it sounds like -- it involves a bunch of dudes robbing the French National Archives, lots of political intrigue, and what would become the Hope Diamond.)
The story has to be told, though -- come on. Robespierre. In a goddamn toga.
XDD I imagine a man in a ponytail looking horribly dignified as he wears a toga. It is an amazing site, I can assure you. And all of France during the late 1700's was batshit crazy. Robespierre was just very vocal about his insanity.
Can you be my Social teacher please? Your stories are so much better.
The depressing moment when your best friend tells you it was TOTALLY OBVIOUS to her that you totally liked that guy.
Fuck.
I thought I was discrete. And she spared my feelings by saying only she noticed because she's obsevervant. >.> She wasn't there for 1/2 of our classes.
I hope I'm not that obvious now...
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