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velkommen

Welcome. This is my blog, and you're my most coveted guest. If I seem a bit too intense, it's only because I have so much that I want to share with you, and I can see that you're eager to begin as well. So, please...make yourself at home, sip an East India cocktail (I blended the pomegranate juice myself), and sample some of my domestic and imported Arcana: useless, but fascinating information about Victoriana, Steampunk and other favoured topics; music which evokes that dark, lost Lenore sensibility; and other pleasant or, perhaps, unsettling non sequiters whispered in a darkened room. Linger long or short, leave a comment or refrain, but remember to come back soon to play a (shhhh) parlour game.
Velkommen. Dette er min blog, og du er min mest eftertragtedegæst. Hvis jeg synes en smule for intenst, det er kunfordi jeg har så meget at jeg vil dele med jer, og jeg kanse, at du er ivrig efter at begynde så godt. kan du ...føl dig hjemme, sip et East India cocktail (jeg blandetden granatæble juice mig selv), og prøve nogle af mine indenlandske o importerede Arcana: ubrugelig, menfascinerende oplysninger om Victoriana, Steampunkog andre begunstigede emner; musik der fremkalderdenne mørke, mistede Lenore sensibilitet, og andrebehagelige eller måske foruroligende, ikke sequitershviskede i et mørkelagt rum. Linger lang eller kort,efterlade en kommentar eller afstå, men husk at komme tilbage snart til at spille en (Shhhh) selskabsleg.

Fuldmane

Fuldmane
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Helvede's så Nocturne

Helvede's så Nocturne
The raw, aching sadness with which the following words were typed has been reformatted to fit your screen. No need to adjust it. All names have been expunged to protect the innocent and the willfully insane.

Nocturne in G Flat major

Chopin, darkness, light, sand and wind, starlight tread. Beethoven, love, fear, madness, redemption in the night. Liszt, waltzing widows, desperate bargains, pleasure's secret plight. Now, then, before, always, forever. Promises made on lonely beaches, celestial summer's perfect kiss, passions quenched in salty breezes, the lure of distant mist-draped heights. Bitter interlude. Final, private nocturne. Burned down like a candle. Doomed bleeding beauty. Fated sacrificial night.
To be continued...

Gentle Visitor

Gentle Visitor
And now, Gentle Visitor, won't you please lend an eye (we've worked so hard)...
STATEMENT OF PURPOSE
We love all things dark and mysterious, macabre and obscure, odd and unfathomable. Nothing is too strange or bizarre for our little blog. And although we would never presume to offer definitive answers to the great questions of life, we shall do our best to enlighten, inform and delight our visitors with our whimsical potpurri of facts, anecdotes, trivia and informational outpourings. We strive not to offend, but to edify those who wish to reach beyond their comfort zone and touch the fabric of another time and place, and of distant, but genuine worlds and lives. As Victorian-themed blogs go, ours may not be the most austere, nor the most comprehensive, but we know what we like, and if our readers like it as well, then all is as it should be in this ramshackle corner of our own personal Victorian empire.

A Musical Note

A Musical Note: We feel that our blog is best viewed when accompanied by one or more of the following musical selections. Then again, we also feel that our blog is best viewed when accompanied by a glass of absinthe, a bite of lemon cake, and a foot massage (preferably by someone you know). So, to paraphrase the otherwise completely irrelevant-to-our-blog Mr. Aleister Crowley, "Do what thou wilt...but be open to Chopin."

And now we begin

And now we begin
"One must strive to show decorum even when scrolling." Queen Victoria, Buckingham Palace Blog, August 11,1879

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Saturday, August 27, 2011

Ask A Victorian Notable

Rudyard Kipling: Author, Poet, Nobel Prize Winner and Advice Giver


Are you wrestling with a personal issue? Do you have a question that you're aching to have answered? Well, no need to despair. Just ask a Victorian Notable. After all, they may be dead, but their words live on. It would be a shame to waste them. Our guest Victorian Notable this post is Mr. Rudyard Kipling, British author, poet and Nobel Prize winner. (He could have been a knight as well, but he refused the honor.) But now it's all about 21st century angst as the man who penned the lines "Tiger, Tiger, burning bright" turns his formidable grey matter in the direction of our readers' agony!




Dear Mr. Kipling,

I'm a woman in my thirties who is still struggling to get over a relationship with a man who left me for another woman two days after our ten year anniversary. It has been very difficult so far because I keep hearing about his new life, how happy he is, etc. It's as though he has forgotten about me completely while my feelings toward him remain the same....except for my anger. Do you have any advice?
                                                                                                            Misery Loins in Massachusetts

Dear Misery Loins,

Brothers and sisters I bid you beware,
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em the more do we grieve;
For when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short time loan is as bad as a long--
So why in Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?


Dear Mr. Kipling,

My sister and I were once very close, but now we are at odds because of my newfound interest in reincarnation. We were both raised Episcopalian, but she married a Methodist and has become very narrow in her views. She says that no intelligent person ascribes to reincarnation and until I stop being such an idiot, I'm not welcome on cribbage night. I feel that spirituality is more important than cribbage night. What do you think of reincarnation? (I loved Jungle Book, by the way.)
                                                                                 
                                                                                                           Reincarnated Reject in St. Paul


Dear Reincarnated,

They will come back--come back again, as long as the red Earth rolls.
He never wasted a leaf or a tree, do you think he would squander souls?


To have your questions addressed and perhaps resolved by a Victorian Notable, simply email us or leave a comment pertaining to your specific query. Remember---an unasked question like a cancer grows. Or is that silence? Either way, it bears thinking about. See you next post. Kisses.

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