Special Guest Blogger: John Ruskin

I wrote on subjects as varied as art, architecture, political economy, education, museology, geology, botany, ornithology, literature, history and mythology but what i am probably most remembered for is what my wife, Effie, called at the divorce proceedings my  'incurable impotency'.  
There was a rumour that I was shocked into impotence by the sight of my wife pubic hair on our wedding night. The story was that, as the most influential art critic of his day, AKA me, all my knowledge of the naked female form derived entirely from the pubes-free marble of classical sculpture and painting which is obviously false and that was in no way the reason why we did not consummate our marriage during the six years we were wed.
On a painting expedition, I left Effie alone in a rustic cabin with my friend, the painter John Everett Millais who had no qualms about disgusting pubic hair and Effie enjoyed it so much she filed for divorce. She married him and I became the first Slade Professor of Fine Art at the University of Oxford until the University began allowing  vivisection in the medical school so I left.
With fans such as Charlotte Brontë and Elizabeth Gaskell and a prestigious Newdigate Prize for poetry under my belt, I was a huge influence on Victorian art and architecture wrote 250 books and taught art to Oscar Wilde but by now my views had changed and I was starting to move into the sphere of politics, although i did still dabble in Art which saw me sued for libel by Whistler after saying his art was over-priced.
Always a very right wing Conservative, i began noticing the large equality in Britain and started to lecture against the dangerous ideas of people like Adam Smith and his awful The Wealth of Nations, saying that it increased the societal differences and inequality and would lead to resentment amongst workers so Capitalism should be abandoning in favour of a co-operative structure of society which saw me mentioned in the same breath as Karl Mark and inspired many Christian socialists and even got me a letter from some Indian chap named Ghandi who cited me as the greatest influence in his life.
I also threw in that the Industrial Revolution would knacker the planet but nobody seemed to have picked up on that but just as my political star was rising, i suffered a bout of worsening mental illness and retired to live out a life of solitude with only my cook for company, I say my cook, i believed she was Queen Victoria serving me up cornflakes  every morning so my legacy would be a love of art, socialism and shaved lady gardens.