Musings upon the Muses

Inspired by Tammy Bruce's (who is my muse of musing upon muses) recent posts proclaiming Diana Rigg as her personal muse, I have put some thought into who my nine muses are. (I'm a bit more promiscuous in my adorations, blame it on my Y chromosone) Also judging from the photos, the Emma Peel fetish might explain the lovely flowing dark locks on Ms. Bruce.


Calliope, the muse of epic poetry, No other woman brings to mind an epic, sweeping, historical frame of mind for me personally more so than Carrie 'Princess Leia' Fisher. It's purely a product of my age, but she is the center and heart of the epic of my childhood, so she's my Calliope and I'm sticking to it. (and you had to have known I'd use a metal bikini photo, didn't you, and no that's not my signed metal bikini photo, just the best shot I found on google)

Euterpe, the muse of music, Maria McKee's voice is coated in honey, tinged with regret, and brimming with power. Plus back in the day she had an ethereal beauty that I found(find) intoxicating. She's still a beauty, no longer so ethereal (but still gorgeous), and continues to make amazing music. Without a doubt she's my Euterpe.

Clio, the muse of history, She's a tricky one to personify. Do I choose an actress who has done many period pieces, do I go with an historian who's words sing, or do I go with an inspirational historic figure, well call me shallow but I'm going the thespian route. My Clio shall be Dame Judi Dench, she's the modern master of the period piece. She inhabits historical roles and period films like no other. (who says all the muses must be hotties)

Erato, the muse of lyric poetry, Joni Mitchell, she's the queen of them all when it comes to writing a song. No equals, not ever. (see I don't hate all hippies, though she was never really, really a hippie)
Melpomene, the muse of tragedy, when I think of tragic figures, Marilyn Monroe comes to mind, something so inexpressably sad about her (she might have been happy as Norma Jean). I think that sadness was key to her beauty (and her peach fuzz).


Polyhymnia, the muse of sacred poetry, Aretha Franklin, again there can be no other. Her voice is an exaltation upon all that is good upon this earth. She, and her voice, are sacred, no matter what your religion or irreligion may be.

Terpsichore, the muse of dance, Johnny Weir, thought I'd throw a screwball in there. Boy is so agile and feminine and graceful that I can't think of anyone at the moment that embodies feminine grace in movement better. So what if he has a penis. Not like I'm planning on sleeping with him.

Thalia, the muse of comedy, Barbara Stanwyck, known as much for her dramatic turns as her comedy, she was one of the best comedic actresses of all time. The Lady Eve is really all the film you have to see to confirm this for yourself.

Urania, the muse of astrology, Shirley MacLaine, cause she's nuts, and she's amazing, and how do you go about assigning a muse to something as silly as astrology, plus if I had a time machine, she'd be the first woman I'd want to use said machine to visit and know carnally, twice (once when I'm around 50 and she's around 25, and again when I'm 25 and she's around 50, put that in your pipe and smoke it).