Conversation · Horseback Monument
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The scaffolding around the old monument has been taken down. In its place are the spoils of your investment. Numerous rods and ropes still hold the original reassemblage in place.
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- An old monument stands in the middle of the traffic island, pointing toward the sea. The horse and rider appear to be struggling against the vibrantly coloured cables and coiled wire.
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- The king stands high above you, surveying the bay. Mute and indifferent to your sightings.
- "Looks like the students took your advice to heart, detective."
- An old monument stands in the middle of the traffic island, pointing toward the sea. The whole thing is wrapped in vibrantly coloured cables and coiled wire. Where the horse's head should be, only twisted pieces of rebar remain.
- Not that he ever did in life, either.
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- An old monument stands in the middle of the traffic island. It is surrounded by scaffolding that has been haphazardly erected around it.
- The scaffolding around the old monument has been taken down. In its place are the spoils of your investment. Numerous rods and ropes still hold the original reassemblage in place.
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- An old monument stands in the middle of the traffic island, pointing toward the sea. It looks as if it's been reassembled piece-by-piece, secured and mounted in the air with the aid of numerous ropes and rods.
- As you look up, you notice something about the statue. There are some odd indentations on the king's chest piece...
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- Filippe III's ludicrous bronze likeness looks defiantly up into the sky.
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Even by the standards of the Filippian kings, Old Sumptuous Filippe was known for his profligacy.
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Well, he blew through the whole national treasury, starting the decline of one of the penultimate century's greatest superpowers: the Suzerain of Revachol...
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His own maladministration foreshadowed the fall of the monarchy during the Antecentennial Revolution, an end to his family line and the monarchy on the Insulindian isola.
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Stories have it that he had his bedroom converted into a treasure chamber where he stored unfathomable wealth: krugerrands, bars of gold, ornate weaponry, armour, and various chalices.
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He called it the Sol Aurum. It was obscene. There were whispers he slept on a huge pile of gold-dipped feathers like some obese dragon, instead of a bed like a normal person.
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You see, Old Filippe wasn't just good at squandering the national treasury on gold and ceremonial weaponry. He was also a prodigious snorter of nose candy.
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Not just any nose candy, though. We're talking royal Filippian blow, allegedly twice as potent as the stuff you find nowadays. And purple, Filippian cocaine was purple.
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Beneath the cold waters of the Insulindian Bay, thrown there by the revolutionaries after they cleaned out the royal mausoleum.
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A group of marble pleurants still surrounds the king's vandalized tomb... A deathly cold wind sweeps up candy wrappers and old newspapers.
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The original was blown apart by communards, then further damaged during the landing of the Coalition's airships during the Turn-Of-The-Century Revolution. When Martinaise was levelled.
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Most historians think the Coalition's hasty landing may have ultimately saved the statue: If the communards had more time they would have reduced it up to even finer pieces.
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Some years ago a group of liberal, artistically inclined individuals (designers mostly) thought it would be ironic to restore the statue of the most wasteful ruler of Revachol in the poorest part of the city...
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The statue is supposed to capture the moment it was blown apart, like an instant frozen in time. A rare butterfly, trapped in amber, floating on a sea of... shit.
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Neither do people in Martinaise. The statue has proved to be controversial in a neighbourhood mostly populated by the left-leaning working class.
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Those critics might have it wrong, though. There's more to it than just 'ironism'... but you can't say what precisely. Perhaps this art mystery will be solved at a later time?
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- Neither do people in Martinaise. The statue has proved to be controversial in a neighbourhood mostly populated by the left-leaning working class.
- People in Martinaise tend to agree, as do many prominent art critics and thought leaders with more nuanced social awareness than the young ironists.
- People in Martinaise tend to disagree, as do many prominent art critics and thought leaders with more nuanced social awareness than the young ironists.
Filippe III, the Squanderer, however, with his bronze face up in the air, doesn't seem concerned about what the hoi polloi think of him in death.
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People in Martinaise tend to disagree, as do many prominent art critics and thought leaders with more nuanced social awareness than the young ironists.
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People in Martinaise tend to agree, as do many prominent art critics and thought leaders with more nuanced social awareness than the young ironists.
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That's what the revolutionaries said -- 150 years later. Right before they emptied out the royal mausoleum and dumped His Majesty's mortal remains in the Insulindian Bay.
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This is slander. The king was just and beautiful. The revolutionaries made this all up.
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The more you ask yourself, the less you know. One thing is for certain, though: you're brain-damaged. It's serious. And permanent.
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What did he do? You have no idea what you did a week ago! How would you know what this guy did many centuries ago?
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A silver plaque on the statue's pedestal reads: 'I am Filippe III, the Squanderer, the Greatest of the Filippian Kings of Revachol; Son of Filippe II, the Opulent; Father of Filippe IV, the Insane.'
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Pulling aside the poster covering the statue's pedestal reveals: 'I am Filippe III, the Squanderer, the Greatest of the Filippian Kings of Revachol; Son of Filippe II, the Opulent; Father of Filippe IV, the Insane.'
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As you look up, you notice something about the statue. There are some odd indentations on the king's chest piece...
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A matrix of metal tubes and wooden planks jut out at odd angles. A miserable tarpaulin covers up the horse and rider, flapping in the cold coastal air...
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There are no lights that spell out your name, no workers with calloused hands leering from above -- just construction materials displayed as if to mourn your misplaced dreams.
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The old king looks defiantly to the west, wrapped in makeshift scaffolding like a mummy...