This will probably be my last entry.
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No man should know the exact date of his death. But when you have access to an electric network 300 years in the future, a network which contains extensive articles on your life and death, it's hard not to peek. In nine days, I will feel a pain in my left leg, a leg which will develop into a gangrene. Sick ? Kings don't become sick - they die, that's all. One month from now, on 1st of September 1715, the Sun King will be no more.
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If the Heaven exist, will they let me in? I'm not sure. Looking back on my life, the tile "very christian king" seems like a hollow phrase. I spent my life in luxury. I loved war too much. I didn't care enough for the well-being of my people. In your time, only righ-wing republicans would call this "christian". May the Lord have mercy with my soul.
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France, of course, will survive. Swinging back and forth between rebellion and royalism, between people's reign and aristocracy, between beheading nobles and submitting to a self-proclaimed French "emperor", they will finally find the way to some kind of dilettantist democracy, with elected officials playing aristocracy and socialist unions satisfying the people's hunger for a little rebellion. A bit of a Punch and Judy show, if you ask me, but still better than the warmongering plutocracy you will have in the New World... Well, it's not my pigeon anymore.
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As for Suicide Girls, I didn't come back a lot in the last years. To be honest, the new site layout isn't exactly my taste, and I regret non-barenaked-ladies-related things like the articles and interviews.
But then again, I'm an old man born in the 17th century - not exactly the target group. Also, the new site seems to be mainly design for mobile devices - and my heavy steam-powered chrono-computer is anything but mobile. So I won't complain.
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Anyway, I say goodby to you, good people of Suicide Girls. I've found some good friends here, met beautiful women and other wonderful people. I would love to stay in touch with some - but that will be rather difficult, as I'll be dead. Bummer.
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To those who regret my departure, I say what I plan to say to my family: "Why do you weep? Did you think I'm immortal?"
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Yours royally, Louis XIV
Given at Versailles on the first or August, 1715.
elizathetroll:
Sad to see you go, Sire.