Dear reader, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Puck Aonghus Goodliffe. I have, for over a year thus far, been a citizen of the Independent State of Caledon. I will write more on my backstory when I have the time. Suffice to say that now, I am an independent academic who tries to help in whatever capacity I may.

However, I will instead briefly explain the name of this blog. "The Power of Puck Compels You," is, of course, a bit of a riff on "the power of Christ compels you" from that seminal 70s horror film, The Exorcist.

One day, when I used to haunt the official SL forums (before they closed the forums down for good) a command to the effect of "The Power of Puck Compels You!" was made by someone - perhaps even myself. It is, in fact, little more than a forum in-joke. At this point I can not recall the context - only that this brief in-joke is the origin of this blog's name. At the time, I was enamored of Miss Coyote Momiji and she suggested I use it as the name, as I recall.

I have lived in Caledon for over a year now, as I said above, and am very proud to be a member of the community although I confess I tend to be rather shy and hesitant about group events and tend to not get too involved in the inter-politics. However, I couple days ago I decided to join up to the Caledon Militia.

It was none too soon, I see. I was spending a quiet afternoon with a ladyfriend in her shop as she was setting the place up, when a message was sent to me and other Caledonians - and Militia members.

It seems that a certain Caledonian gentleman (who shall remain nameless) had hoisted the Caledon flag (may her colours fly forever!) in Neualtenburg.

Rather than being grateful for this addition to their otherwise dreary Republic, they decided to hoist their own flag (as one person aptly described it, "a swan being crushed by an anchor").

When I was notified, I quickly got into a uniform that I procured from Mr. Chadbourne in the Moors and pulled out my yellowjacket rifle, crafted by the fine gunsmith Mr. Fizz. Upon telling my ladyfriend of the happenings, she begged me to be careful as I raced down to Victoria City, where the Neualtenburgians had decided to hoist their flag - indeed, they did so in the very telehub!

There were approximately five or six N-burgians on horseback in official uniform, including Miss Bancroft. There were more than double that when one counted the Caledonians who surrounded them. They tried to state their foolish case - but all they got was justly-due invective from the crowd - those who know me may be shocked (!) that I was one of those.

Sadly, the altercation did not result in violence. Eventually, they backed off, took their flag off of Caledon's property and returned to their own lands.

I fear, however, that they'll soon be back - and in greater numbers.

Mr. Shang, however, has requested that we not further abuse them for reasons beyond me. I was disappointed to learn of this restriction, but will do my best to follow it.

Later in the evening, at the suggestion of the lovely Miss McAllister, I decided to head off to Paris. She had vacationed there previously and highly recommended it. My ladyfriend has an interest in a very unsavoury figure and thus, was not occupying my time at the moment. Rather than mope, I retired home, stripped out of the uniform I'd been wearing ever since the earlier events transpired, put on a loose white shirt and let my hair down somewhat, put on my comfortable buckled shoes and headed off to Paris 1900, looking for distraction.

I confess that I thought for a moment that I should simply wear my uniform and carry my rifle into the city. I could very easily take over their city and have a bevy of French ladies at my finger-tips. I decided, however, that I wouldn't - at least, not now.

I arrived and was met by a gate that lead into the city proper. The rules demanded that all weapons be put away. I had left all of mine at home aside from the standard small weapons that I carry on myself at all times - a small dagger I tend to wear on my upper leg and a .455 Webley. Making sure they were well hidden, I grasped my Caledon walking stick and strolled through the gates and up into the main street.

By the time I arrived there, the sun was setting - it looked lovely against the waters, and a cool breeze from east helped keep any heat at bay. For some reason, the place seemed almost devoid of people. I saw two people seemingly ice skating on the street - but that was about it.

I first decided to visit the museum. It was late and I was still a bit upset from both my ladyfriend's absence and the shenanigans of the N-burgers, so I didn't take note of the names of places.

I did, however, notice that they were showing an exhibition by that talented artist, Mr. Monet. I decided to acquire a print of one of his paintings, as well as another, a photograph of our lovely Caledon. After enjoying all of the delightful and original art, I headed back out and perused the nearby shops, glancing in windows to get a gist of each place - many of which catered only to the ladies. Unfortunately, the mens' seletions were fairly mediocre, at best. Aside from the talented Miss Vindaloo, there was little offered for men (such is SL, I fear...). And the ones that were offered, while definitely nice, were of a very curious style. Perhaps it is a new fashion trend from Paris? Perhaps so - but I confess that I do not care for it.

Shortly thereafter, quite unexpectedly, I came to find myself directly facing the Eiffel Tower. Directly next to it was a sign advertising that one could grab a parachute and fly off the edge of the tower. Naturally, I found this too appealing to ignore so, putting the beauty and majesty of the structre aside, I hurried to the lifts to reach the top of the tower.

Those who know me well know that I am something of a daredevil and such activities appeal greatly to me. Once I reached the topmost region of the tower, I noticed an object that dispensed parachutes. My hand reached for it, then I realised that this was simply taking the coward's way out. Puck Aonghus Goodliffe needs no parachute! What I didn't expect, however, was that I would at that very moment lose my footing. Somehow, as I was falling, I managed to actually get myself stuck INSIDE the structure itself, leading to me heading my head, chest and legs on the way down. When I finally hit ground, I was naturally in pain but I was still stuck inside. Eventually, I managed to crawl between two nearby beams and climbed out. I quickly made my way back to home in Caledon and, after a delicious absinthe/laudanum mix, I collapsed onto my bed and passed out. I do hope the pain subsides some by tomorrow. I'd hate to take more.

Ok, I lie - but I still hope the pain has subsided. I want to take such things for pleasure, not for necessity, after all. It truly does lower the fun value!