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Published: June 18th 2013
scotland seems to make romanticism out of defeat.. whilst i despite my scottish ancestry tend only to create defeat out of my best attempts to be romantic!
now on a cold april day in 1746 the highland clans (u know kilts + big red beards + stuff) nobly led by charlie boy pretender stuart (prince charles edward stuart) lined up for the last time on the battle fields of culloden moor. on a cold may day in 2013, the kangakilts stood out in the buckets of rain on the colloden moor getting soaked to the bone.
now the clans never had much respect for authorities in either london or edinburgh + were hence a perpetual threat to the establishment. they were a separate proud people with their own loyalties, language + ancient ceremonies. so the fight was on. old vs new.. progress vs tradition.. goodies vs baddies.. mine vs urs.. sound familiar?!
so as i said earlier, the scots have the gift of turning suffering + defeat into beauty. despite being crushed by the disciplined hanoverian army at culloden, the defeat became a symbol of beauty + high romance. the old song
was no more – the culture anciently rooted + never to be restored. the hunting of the ever cheerful prince charles by the redcoats through the mountains + islands + his final escape on a french ship touched the imagination of the ppl + begot a hundred beautiful poems + songs (blogs eventually as well) so that the next generation was moved by the endurance + heroism.
the rapid myth-making coincided with the surging wave all thru europe of romanticism. the wild lonely places of the world meant freedom + delight for the human spirit that was beginning to chafe at the ugliness of industrialism. the poets started to write about the wonders of nature, + urban verse became unfashionable. romanticism had set the imagination free again + that delight has never been extinguished.
so the fight, the war was everywhere.. poets were taking up their pens, artists their paintbrushes, the kangakilts were blogging + taking pictures + the clans were racing over the culloden ground with kilts + red hair flaying as they approached imminent death + eventual defeat. inevitability was blowing on the wind.. but fight they must.
the clans were broken. this was the end + scatter they did. the speaking of a beautiful language was discouraged. the glens + shores emptied rapidly. on mass ppl left.. immigrating to canada, the land of sheep + the land of criminals.
so as i stood out in the rain of buckets on the battle fields of colloden that awefully cold may day in 2013 i was thinking of the inevitable losing battles i was fighting.. i punched my fist in the misty air in celebration of all those who choose to fight + my eyes filled with tears as my heart heard for the first time the beauty of losing.. so may we keep the fight.. + loose once more.
hope will never leave us alone.. so lets keep our head up + our heart strong
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