Death is Eternal #387

Saturday. February 10, 2024. 2,087 words.

I have some great news to share in this Death is Eternal! But! But I won’t do it here. I’ll do it in the “Life” section. And what does that mean? Well, since it’s not the first newsletter of the month, it means that if you want to read the fantastic news I have to share, you’ll have to upgrade your subscription! But fear not, because, as I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, the prices are cheaper than ever. We should all support deflation initiatives in a time of inflation, especially when they come with more great content and terrific news! Without further ado, let’s get this party started.

Contents

1. The Coronation of Charles VII (1742)

2. Writing: Engaging

3. Bye!

4. Life (from February 5 to 18, 2024)

5. Death is Eternal review #265: Blue Beetle

6. The end

1. The Coronation of Charles VII (1742)

January 31st, 1742

“Will you Crown me?” Charles VII’s inquiry hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension threading through the chamber.

Klemens August of Bavaria drew in a slow, deliberate breath before responding, his silence pregnant with uncertainty. It was a pause laden with unspoken doubts and the weight of familial allegiance.

“Brother,” Klemens finally spoke, his voice measured yet tinged with a hint of reluctance, “this is our opportunity to sever the grip of Habsburg tyranny. Do you not wish to be remembered as the harbinger of change?”

Ever the strategist, Charles recognized the flicker of doubt in his brother’s eyes, the wavering commitment masked by the stoic facade of duty. His ambitions intertwined with the political landscape, but beneath the veneer of power lay a deeper motive, a desire for legacy that transcended mere dominion.

“You know me well,” Charles conceded with a wry smile, acknowledging the intricate dance of alliances and loyalties that governed their world. “But do not mistake my intentions, nor yours. We tread this path not solely for the allure of power but for the greater good.”

The archbishop and Kurfürst exchanged a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that bound them together. Despite their disparate paths, they shared a common goal—to shape the destiny of nations, to wield influence beyond the confines of mortal ambition.

“And yet,” Klemens interjected, his gaze lingering on the crucifix adorning his chest, a silent testament to his inner turmoil, “my allegiance has always leaned towards the Habsburgs. It is through their favour that I have ascended thus far.”

Charles nodded, a gesture of understanding tinged with a hint of resignation. “We are all prisoners of circumstance, bound by the chains of duty and obligation. But sometimes, a whisper of dissent can unravel even the most entrenched alliances.”

Klemens regarded his brother with apprehension and curiosity, a silent question lingering unspoken between them. “And what of George?” he ventured, his voice betraying a flicker of doubt.

A secretive smile played at the corners of Charles’s lips, a silent assurance of hidden knowledge. “George will cast his lot with us,” he declared, his words infused with a quiet confidence that bordered on arrogance.

Klemens recoiled, disbelief etched across his features. “Britain and Hanover are staunch supporters of Austria,” he protested, his voice tinged with incredulity. “To believe otherwise is folly.”

Charles merely shrugged, a gesture of nonchalance that belied the gravity of his words. “Sometimes, the most unlikely allies emerge from the shadows,” he mused cryptically, a master of intrigue veiled beneath the guise of a wayward prince.

With a resigned sigh, Klemens relented, his resolve crumbling beneath the weight of uncertainty. “I shall lend you my support,” he conceded. His words were a reluctant admission of defeat. “And should George prove true to his word, I shall bestow upon you the crown you seek.”

February 12nd, 1742

As the coronation ceremony drew to a close, Klemens leaned in close to his brother, his voice a whispered echo of disbelief. “I cannot fathom how you have accomplished this feat.”

Turning to the assembled throng, Klemens raised his voice, his words ringing out with solemn conviction. “Long live Charles VII of the House of Wittelsbach, our unanimous Holy Roman Emperor!”

The end

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The imperial election of 1742 was held to select the emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. It took place in Frankfurt on January 24. The result was the election of Charles Albert of Bavaria, the first non-Habsburg emperor in three hundred years.

2. Writing: Engagement

Credit: Substack (many lemurs engaging with each other)

I want to start by making something clear: I’m not here to pretend I’m an expert in crafting captivating pieces of writing. It’s not that I’m hoarding secrets; it’s just that I don’t feel qualified to teach something I struggle with myself. Frankly, I’ve had doubts about my ability to create engaging content, and my lack of significant growth in various platforms only seems to reinforce that notion. How could I impart wisdom on a subject I’m still grappling with?

But let’s set aside my insecurities for a moment and delve into why writing engaging pieces matters.

Lately, I’ve pondered the significance of engagement, particularly in communication. If you’re a paying subscriber, you might understand why this topic has occupied my thoughts. In today’s world, engagement reigns supreme—whether we embrace it or not. The rise of social media and its enigmatic algorithms has made drawing people to your content essential for success. Sure, it’s always been important, but social media has amplified its importance exponentially. You’re on the path to continuous success if you can consistently capture people’s attention.

Engagement is the cornerstone of contemporary achievement. The challenge lies in keeping up with what the world demands. Once, it was lengthy written pieces; now, it’s fleeting one-second videos. And not just any video—it needs that elusive spark, that intangible quality. Whether it’s luck or sheer brilliance, who knows? Quality? Perhaps, but that’s increasingly subjective, or maybe I’m just out of touch with the vernacular of newer generations.

In any case, as someone who wears many hats—writer, editor, journalist, marketer, communications professional—I’ve always grasped the importance of crafting engaging content, even if I haven’t always realized it consciously. And because of that understanding, I’ve found some measure of success, albeit unevenly distributed across different endeavours.

So, what’s the takeaway from this rambling essay? Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. It’s more of a reflection that’s been weighing on my mind, and I felt compelled to share it with you. Perhaps if I had the secret formula for perpetual engagement, this piece would be more polished and filled with actionable advice. But alas, that’s not the case. So here we are, with a collection of words that may seem somewhat aimless, yet if I’m fortunate, they’ll at least hold your attention—for better or worse, proving that engagement doesn’t always equate to quality.

3. Bye!

Here’s where we say our farewell to the free subscribers. If you want to read the rest of Death is Eternal, consider becoming a paying subscriber. If you already are a paying subscriber, first of all, thank you very, very much! And second, I’ll see you on the other side of the paywall.