RIP Unicorn

I have been thinking about the history of the unicorn. To me, this seems like a perfectly reasonable thought process to embark upon. Not in the least bit strange. Though what will follow, does get a little bit odd.  

I was interested to understand how unicorns came to be inscribed upon the fabric of modern Western society. Not exaggeration. Look around you. Unicorn-overload.  I wandered onto the World Wide Web, virtual spade in hand, to do a some light Internet digging. With the benefit of hindsight, I should have donned some gardening gloves because things are about to get unexpectedly grubby.

In modern times, the friendly unicorn can be found everywhere.  We see him on women's underwear and an extra cute unicorn type character within the likes of My Little Pony.  Yet historical representations of the beast are a million miles from the elegant, rainbow pooping unicorns we imagine today. Unicorny descriptions do vary across sources. But overall, it is safe to suggest that anything the historical unicorn loses in majestic grace is more than made up for in the macarbe.

In particular, I happened upon one account which describes a ferocious, death-defying unicorn being lulled to sleep by the breasts of a virgin. This unicorn is intimately attached to said virgin, and, (yikes) said virgin is quite naked. I kid ye not. As you'll no doubt agree, this revelation registered about a ten on my weird-as-shitometer and swiftly stomped all over my long-held images of pink, fluffy, magical creatures with shiny horns.

Here we have a unicorn that gallops around pillaging the townsfolk, that can only be tamed by the boobs of a virgin! This explodes my unicorn soulmate metaphor into the cosmos, in the most icky of ways. It is not the stuff of dreams but the fabric of nightmares.  On a metaphorical level, it’s a​ typical play on female innocence calming the wanton, horned beast. Therefore isn't exactly a celebration of the myriad power of womanhood but quite the contrary, with a hefty sprinkling of yuck.

These weird ideas are from the past. And thank goodness for that.  Nevertheless, my uni-horn discoveries have put me right off my 'favourite’ socks, which are pink, have eyes, fluttery lashes, and, yes, you've guessed it, horns.  

On this day my unicorn soulmate metaphor is no more. RIP.

With love,

The RGF

Xx

Wordy gathering

On this Tuesday 18th April 2017, I celebrate my blogaversary. Let the excitement flow! Nine years ago today, this gathering of words commenced.


I probably need to mark this prestigious occasion by raising a glass or two. I will not do this sarcastically. Though I feel like I'm making a joke at my own expense. No, this is a genuine celebration. This blog has been my outlet to joy, pain and pointless rambles. It is cathartic and transformative. Some of the biggest relationships of my life so far commenced since it began. I have documented their trajectory within. The greatest of these, was the birth of my daughter.

Thoughts by The Renegade Glitter Fairy, how I adore thee. 

Here's to beginnings. To endings. To bits in the middlings. Most of all, here's to words!


The RGF xx

Guitaring

 

I'd love to play this song on guitar. Of course there is that slight issue of being unable to play guitar. Coupled by the troubling fact that I don't own a guitar. Otherwise my journey towards expert strumming in a Heartless Bastard's stylee looks sound.

It is time

The first record I bought was The Buggles, Video Killed the Radio Star. This song comments on technological advances and grieves the emphasis on image in video rather musical focus through radio.

In certain respects this song connects my thoughts to Ludschuch. A place that is emblematic of a desire to retain heritage and a refusal of the progress which threatened it. The Luddites met there. There are other stories associated with the space. In general there is a nature theme running through them.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lud%27s_Church

Ludschuch, in turn, reminds​ of Tolkien. Whose books have been described as a metaphor for industrial age that ripped through the countryside. His fear that human's were emphasising greed-power as opposed to soul-power were portrayed through the elves, ents and orcs in Lord of the Rings.

Change is necessary and progress can be marvellous. Yet progress should not destroy otherwise it is the opposite of it's alleged intention. Music should never be secondary to image, as represented by the video star. If we must worship nature, the very stuff of life, in secret, as the Luddites did then humanities priorities are in grave question.

I see Sauron as a terrifying representation of a power crazed society. Where money and control is deemed more important than oxygen. Trees are ripped out. Resources are monetised. Human life is secondary to wealth.

We need to return to something pure. We must value human life over money because money has no value without​ humanity. What use is power if the planet is dead. There would be nowhere to wield it. Appearance is irrelevant without a soul to wear it. As someone once said, we do not have a soul, we are souls.

We must re-prioritise. It is time.

Xxx

Donate blood

This is my thank you message for donating blood. I urge everyone to donate.

Fake messages

Positive aspects:

1. Correct 'you're'. 
2. Correct 'we're'.

Negative aspects:

1. The message is from two men. Well possibly. It may very well be from twenty men. Hmmm I wonder what their motivation is, I think we can safely assume it's not marriage.
2. There is no profile picture. Though if there were, it would be fake.
3. Annoying text language abbreviations in the form of 'lol'. My goodness, even the fakers use annoying text language. 
4. For some reason the 'compliment' was amusing. You message, include a sex focused compliment then actually laugh out loud at it. This is all kinds of wrong. 
5. The message is clearly a copy and paste. If you're going to approach a woman for sexually untoward reasons, at least customise the damn message (and don't lol at the 'compliment'). 
6. Dave and Steve are two of the most common English names. Though it is more than feasible that a Dave and a Steve are living in a flat in London somewhere, I seriously doubt that the message is from any of them. At best, the message practically screams fake names and at worst, dodgy sex ring. 

I have no words. This is so unlike me. I'd laugh to hide the pain, if I wasn't bombarded with messages like this all the time. No, I'm afraid laughter will not be possible. Like Elvis, it has left the building. However, I believe I can manage a weakly executed grimace.

The RGF xx

A long way

Although I gently nod towards the irony within, I find that I've come a long way. I don't feel like I did a few months ago. Nor as I did a few weeks ago. I will never forget my second love but I'm finally letting him go.

This is my progress song. Hidden irony notwithstanding: