The letter of Baron Pierre de Coubertin

This is a wonderful story and perhaps true, which gives it a little extra spice.

It was a letter of extreme importance, which had to be delivered by hand to its addressee. Of course, if the Baron had every reason to want to hand-deliver it, others had every reason to ensure that the letter would never arrive – and would end up in the wrong hands, which would have made bad use of it.

So the Baron set off on horseback, at full throttle. The letter was urgent. A few miles from the finish line, the horse could no longer stand. They had taken back roads, they had passed through forests, paths, rocky outcrops, to avoid the enemies – alas, the horse fell over.

Coubertin continued to run, running out of breath.

Alas, in front of him, an ambush.

The baron was no coward.

He took out his pistol and shot the rascals. He threw the gun away, he had no bullets left.

He ran, ran, ran – would he make it in time? was his only obsession.

He had to cross a bridge, but the bridge was guarded by other enemies.

He didn’t think about it, and started to swim, swimming with one hand to save his letter.

Alas, the others saw him and ran to wait for him at the water’s edge.

The baron had no gun – but, baron, he had his sword.

So he fought with the old-fashioned way, and with iron he cut them down.

There was not much time left, and still so many kilometers – he resumed his race, without ever stopping again before, finally, handing over his letter – by hand.

For the honor of the Queen – is a great love of the French.

And so was born the modern pentathlon: horseback riding, running, pistol shooting, swimming, fencing.

Isn’t it a pretty story?

So beautiful that it should be true.

I’m sure this story could make for an exciting show –

There are so many stories that could make for rousing shows, I’ve been singing it here in every tone for 3 full years.

Perhaps it is now time for me to finish this chapter :

The important thing in life is not the triumph, but the struggle. The important thing is not to have won, but to have fought well.” P de Coubertin

These words are especially welcome – I didn’t win, I just fought. I lost. But it was a “nice” fight.

I admit defeat today.

I have seen in the last few days how much I have fought for a world that I do not like. People I do not like.

So I give up this fight.

I will continue my own, in my domain which is the imagination and Altair will live for me only through this domain.

So this is a way to say goodbye to you – I know now that this virtual place does not have to exist anymore – except when I need to remember some of my ideas to make Altair’s novel live.

So this becomes a place for me – essentially.

Thank you again, a thousand and one times, for your interest in this great imaginary place that I have so long wanted to see alive.

I will give you news of the imaginary advances – after all, that is what binds us – and that is fine, the imaginary : all the “garbage choirs” “garbage hearts” are invited to stay at the door and evacuate their putrid odors in their own domains. In real life, they are rotting mine!

Merci à vous


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