Tossed in Through A Stretcher?

For by the 1970's, opposition to the allegedly uniformitarian strictures of the Enlightenment was rampant throughout universities in Europe and America," Isaiah Berlin's Counter-Enlightenment, Vol 93--Joseph Mali, Robert Wokler,eds.

Though it surpasses anything on American public broadcast, Anno 1790 is a disgraced handmaiden in  comparison to Nicolas le Floch, so blatantly as it follows the French model. Jerome Robart may play his titled detective as sympathetic to the hysterical masses in France who would behead poor Louie 16 and his hated queen, but Jerome's Nicolas understands the aristocracy in its concourse with mercantilism, and his role as a chameleon between the court, his boss, and the bug-eyed piss pot Parisian barker, serves as the sinews trying to hold things together. Anno 1790 is somewhat more strident, messier, a bit gruesome, less playful, and no audience truly cares about corruption in Sweden's historical court. Without so much as a breath on Google, name a Swedish monarch.

Exactly. Where Floch is more piercing about sexual duplicity, Anno is more intense about the consequences of forbidden sexual liaisons, offers up incest, anarchy, serial child murder, the torture of the police state and the guerrilla strikes against it, abortion, the struggle for woman's suffrage, all in one breath, and Protestants could have hardly been so progressive in the fin de siecle close on Immanuel Kant as the greatest moral philosopher of the era, if in the 21st century, the doxology serves as a shield for corruption, negligence, in the essential incompatibility between individual choice and social conformity . This blogger's hostility toward homosexuality and its mimical evasions runs counter to personhood and choice, and counter to the necessity for a falling birth rate, the culling of the elderly, and the advocacy to terminate known disabled fetuses, and yes, I believe it would have been more merciful to let the majority of spastic quads die in birth.

For my regular viewers, seriously, what's my future, even supposing I pick up limited employment, pop a few tranquilizers? It is difficult to provide you with a description of how I might have defined success before biological entropy, but Presby's agents constantly browbeating me over cleanliness wasn't it. Like Steve Jobs, I stick my imaginary feet in the toilet. He died a cult icon over fetish for touch interface. I'll be lucky to leave Race Street in one piece, not pining for fame, but a sense of accomplishment, that is another matter.