What... Do You Mean Intimate?

couthon x saint just

they’re so #special

OH WAIT. bonbonparte nation, i want you to know that i made them in sims 2 some time ago. BEHOLD.

lol me and @anotherhumaninthisworld were discussing Pétion's 'Golden Retriever' personality, and I just ttly felt a need to draw this all day today.

these are almost a year old and unfinished but they’re on my mind again (specifically the bimbo)

🪐. | p2 .

— p1 .

This article sets out to show that Mary Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792) was translated by Félicité Brissot de Warville, the wife of the prominent Girondin leader, Jacques-Pierre Brissot de Warville, and annotated by both. The demonstration is carried out through a study of the works translated by them, together or singly, before 1792: the annotation of those earlier works is echoed by the themes of the notes in the later chapters of the Vindication. These notes reflect J.-P. Brissot’s admiration for Quakers and for British intellectual figures such as Richard Price and Joseph Priestley (whom he knew), dislike of clergy and interest in education. Two long notes also express Félicité’s frustration at being confined to the role of mother and housewife, and can be paralleled with statements in her correspondence. To some extent, she appears as an alter ego of Wollstonecraft.

Source: The abstract for Who translated into French and annotated Mary Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Woman? (2022) by Isabelle Bour.

Brissot’s wife was the one who translated Mary Wollstonecraft into French???

napoleon +sasha dump

One of my favourite bits of media history trivia is that back in the Elizabethan period, people used to publish unauthorised copies of plays by sending someone who was good with shorthand to discretely write down all of the play's dialogue while they watched it, then reconstructing the play by combining those notes with audience interviews to recover the stage directions; in some cases, these unauthorised copies are the only record of a given play that survives to the present day. It's one of my favourites for two reasons:

It demonstrates that piracy has always lay at the heart of media preservation; and

Imagine being the 1603 equivalent of the guy with the cell phone camera in the movie theatre, furtively scribbling down notes in a little book and hoping Shakespeare himself doesn't catch you.

Camille Desmoulins evokes his role on July 12 1789 compilation

On Sunday, all of Paris was in consternation over the dismissal of M. Necker; I had in vain heated the spirits, nobody took up arms. At three o’clock I go to the Palais-Royal; I groaned, in the middle of a group, over the cowardice of all of us, when three young people passed holding hands and shouting ”to arms!” I join them; they see my zeal, they surround me, they urge me to mount a table. Within a minute I have six thousand people around me. “Citizens,” I said then, “you know that the nation asked that Necker be preserved for it, that a monument be erected for him: and they drove him out! Can you be defied more insolently? After this blow, they will dare everything, and this night, they meditate, they may start a Saint-Barthélemy for the patriots.” I was suffocated by a multitude of ideas which besieged me; I spoke without order. “To arms!” I said, ”to arms! Let’s all take green cockades, the color of hope.” I remember that I ended with these words: “The infamous police are here. Well! let them look at me, let them observe me well; Yes! it is I who call my brothers to liberty. And raising a pistol I said: ”At least they won’t take me alive, and I’ll know how to die gloriously. Only one misfortune can happen to me, that of seeing France become a slave. Then I climbed down; they embraced me, they smothered me with caresses. ”My friend,” everyone told me, ”we are going to watch over you, we will not abandon you, we will go wherever you want. I said that I did not want to be in command, that I only wanted to be a soldier of the homeland. I was the first to take a green ribbon and tie it to my hat. How quickly the fire spread!  Camille in a letter to his father dated July 16 1789

I like to remember that at least this honor will not be taken away from me, that it was I who, at the Palais-royal, on Sunday July 12, climbed up on a table surrounded by ten thousand citizens, and showing a pistol to those who could not hear me, called everyone to arms, it was I who proposed to the patriots to immediately take cockades, to be able to recognize them, and avoid the Saint-Barthélemy with which they were threatened that very night, and defend themselves against the regimented assassins. The people having told me to choose the colors, I shouted: Either green, the color of hope; or the ribbon of Cincinnatus, colors of the republic: and as we had decided for green, after having told all the satellites of the police, mixed among the crowd, that they could look me in the face, that I would not fall alive into their hands, I climbed down, and immediately attached the green ribbon to my hat. Desmoulins in number 9 (January 25 1790) of Révolutions de France et de Brabant

I made my provisions, on July 12, according to these words of the consul in the dangers of the republic, Videte ne quid respublica detrimenti capiat, according to these words of our general: The insurrection and the lantern do the weakest of duties. Desmoulins in numbers 24 (May 9 1790) of Révolutions de France et de Brabant

I have not failed to prove, by my example, that the opportunities to serve one's country are not lacking for the least of the citizens; because, standing on a table at the Palais Royal, on Sunday July 12, at four o'clock in the afternoon, I was the first to call the French to arms and to liberty, because I was the first to display the national cockade! Desmoulins in number 31 (July 28 1790) of Révolutions de France et de Brabant

Then love of the homeland will undoubtedly make me find in my breast that courage which made me climb onto a table at the Palais-Royal, and be the first to take the national cockade. Desmoulins in number 39 (August 23 1790) of Révolutions de France et de Brabant

Truly, when I consider this idolatry of the almost universality of the national assembly, I feel the boiling of my anger against Mirabeau drop a little. How can we believe that the author of the work on the lettres de cachet, where he so faithfully traced the portrait of kings, the one who, the day after the day when I proposed to the people the choice of two colors for their cockade, either green, the color of hope, or the blue ribbon of Cincinnatus, color of the republic, the one who publicly said the next day, they do not have enough spirit to take the blue one, the man who translated and commented on the theory of royalty, by Milton, how can we believe, I say, that he is a monarchist by principles? Camille in number 71 (April 4 1791) of Révolutions de France et de Brabant

It was half past two; I came to survey the people. My anger against the despots had been turned into despair. I did not see the groups, although deeply moved or dismayed, quite disposed to the uprising. Three young people seemed to me to be more vehemently courageous; they held hands. I saw that they had come to the Palais-Royal with the same purpose as me; a few passive citizens followed them. ”Messieurs,” I said to them, ”here is the beginning of a civic gathering; One of us must dedicate himself, and get up on a table to harangue the people.” ”Get up there.” I agree to. Immediately I was carried rather than climbing onto the table. I was barely there when I saw myself surrounded by an immense crowd. Here is my short harangue that I will never forget: “Citizens! there is not a moment to lose. I have just arrived from Versailles; M. Necker is dismissed: this dismissal is the tocsin of a patriotic Saint-Barthélemy: this evening all the Swiss and German battalions will leave the Champ-de-Mars to slaughter us. There is only one resource left for us, and that is to run to arms and take cockades to recognize ourselves.”  I had tears in my eyes, and I spoke with an action that I could neither find nor paint. My motion was received with endless applause. I continued: “What colors do you want?  Someone cried out: ”You choose.” ”Do you want green, the color of hope, or Cincinnatus blue, the color of American freedom and democracy?” Voices were raised: ”Green, the color of hope!” Then I cried out: ”Friends! the signal is given: here are the spies and police satellites looking me in the face. At least I will not fall alive into their hands.” Then, drawing two pistols from my pocket, I said: ”Let all the citizens imitate me! I came down smothered in embraces; some held me against their hearts; others bathed me with their tears: a citizen of Toulouse, fearing for my life, never wanted to abandon me. However, they brought me a green ribbon; I put the first one on my hat, and distributed some to those around me. Camille in number 4 (December 21 1793) of Le Vieux Cordelier