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xtruss · 1 year

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A St. Patrick's Day parade-goer in New York is festooned with many a shamrock but nary a four-leaf clover. Photograph By Ruth Fremson/The New York Times/Redux

Is the shamrock a Myth? The Truth Behind 5 St. Patrick’s Day Symbols

From rivers dyed green to steaming plates of corned beef and cabbage, each of the symbols we associate with St. Paddy’s Day has an origin story worth reading.

— By Erin Blakemore | March 15, 2023

Shamrocks, green beer, and leprechauns are part and parcel of any self-respecting St. Patrick’s Day celebration. But how did the traditions we associate with the March 17 holiday become associated with the feast day of a fifth-century missionary? More often than not, the story is one of cultural appropriation sprinkled with a bit of American ingenuity.

Here’s the truth behind five St. Paddy’s Day symbols.

1. Leprechauns

The leprechaun's look has changed through the years—but its image can still be found throughout Ireland like on this leprechaun crossing sign. Photograph By Bo Zaunders, Getty Images

Do you think of a diminutive green sprite with a pot of gold when you think of Ireland? You’re not alone—the leprechaun is one of the most enduring symbols associated with the nation.

But the modern idea of a leprechaun is a far cry from its origins in Irish folklore along with other tales of fictitious fairies and sprites. These supernatural beings were thought to bring good luck to humans and protect them—or tamper with their plans. The oldest written reference to the creature can be found in a medieval story about three sprites who drag the King of Ulster into the ocean.

References to the luchorpán could be found in generations of folk tales, but it took a generation of 19th-century folklorists and poets like William Butler Yeats to popularize the figure outside of Ireland. Even then, the 19th-century leprechaun was a grouchy goblin shoemaker who lived alone, wore red, and jealously guarded treasure—a far cry from the modern leprechaun who wears green, is cheerful, and lives at the end of a rainbow, where he doles out pots of gold and good luck.

This shift is largely thanks to Walt Disney, whose visit to Ireland inspired the 1960s film Darby O’Gill and the Little People, which featured a leprechaun trickster dressed in the more familiar outfit of green pants and coat, yellow waistcoat, and buckled shoes. This and other midcentury representations of leprechauns, like breakfast cereal Lucky Charms’ mascot, Lucky, promulgated Americans’ love of the small figures.

2. Shamrocks

A display entitled "Orchestra of Light" features a swarm of 500 drones animated in the night sky above the Samuel Beckett Bridge on the River Liffey for St. Patrick's Day in Dublin, Ireland. Photograph By Clodagh Kilcoyne/Reuters/Redux

Shamrocks—a three-leafed clover long associated with Ireland—are indelibly associated with St. Paddy’s day. There’s just one problem: they don’t exist in real life. “The ‘shamrock’ is a mythical plant, a symbol, something that exists as an idea, shape and color rather than a scientific species,” Smithsonian’s Bess Lovejoy explains.

Though a plant called a scoth-shemrach can be found in Irish myths, the name wasn’t linked with clover until the 16th century. Modern legend has it that St. Patrick used the three-leafed plant to explain the Holy Trinity while preaching, but despite attempts to link the real-life figure to the practice, historians agree it’s a fable.

In the 18th century, the mythical plant was taken up as a symbol of Ireland’s push for independence from Britain alongside the color green. Catholic Irish republicans’ uniforms were a green reminiscent of the isle’s grass. Their Protestant enemies adopted orange to express their identification with William of Orange, who overthrew the Catholic king during the so-called “Glorious Revolution” of 1688.

Today, Ireland’s flag contains both colors, but the shamrock in particular has come to represent the nation as a whole—and also appears on the United Kingdom’s royal coat of arms, which includes a rose for England, a thistle for Scotland, and a shamrock for Northern Ireland.

3. Green Beer and Rivers

A boat dyes the Chicago River green in celebration of St. Patrick's Day in Chicago. The process for dying the river takes two crews in two boats: One to dump dye into the river and a chaser boat to mix it all together. Photograph By Reuters/John Gress/Tedux

On St. Patrick’s Day, Ireland’s association with green extends even to beer. Like so many other St. Paddy’s Day traditions, green beer is an American invention. It is thought to have been originated by New York toastmaster and coroner’s physician Thomas H. Curtin, who in March 1914 hosted a St. Patrick’s Day bash that included green decorations and green beer.

Curtin used bluing, a laundry product imbued with blue dye that’s used to brighten up whites, to concoct the drink. These days, people make their own green beer with the help of home food coloring or beer companies who add it to kegs of brew.

Beer isn’t the only thing that turns green on St. Patrick’s Day, though. In 1961, the city of Savannah, Georgia, tried to dye its river green for the holiday. That attempt flopped, but the next year, Chicago succeeded thanks to a plumber’s discovery that a substance used to detect leaks into the Chicago River tinted it a gorgeous Irish green. It’s been turning green for the holiday ever since, thanks to 40-plus pounds of dye that lasts for about five hours.

4. Harps

Ireland's love for the harp dates back to at least the 8th century. Beyond a symbol of St. Patrick's Day, it's also the logo of the Irish government. Photograph By Karol Majek/Getty Images

When Norman chronicler Gerald of Wales traveled to Ireland in the 1180s with members of England’s royal family, he was disgusted by what he called the “barbarous” Irish. But when regaled with music by Irish harpists, he almost changed his mind.

“The only thing to which I find that this people apply a commendable industry is playing upon musical instruments, in which they are more incomparably skilful than any other nation I have ever seen,” he wrote, marveling at the “deep and unspeakable mental delight” of the Irish harp.

By then, the harp was deeply embedded in Irish culture. Stone sculptures in Ireland show harps all the way back to the 8th century, though scholars debate how much they resembled modern instruments.

“The harper was extremely well revered in Gaelic society,” said Irish musicologist Mary Louise O’Donnell in a 2015 talk and recital at the Dublin Central Library. Harpists were part of chieftains’ entourages, creating music to accompany poems about their masters’ greatness.

Over time, the harp became a symbol of national pride. Ireland’s coat of arms includes the instrument, which was also adopted by multiple nationalist and rebel movements throughout the nation’s long history. In 1862, Irish brewing juggernaut Guinness adopted it as part of the company’s logo—and when Ireland became self-governing in 1922, it had to flip the orientation of the harp on its official government logo to avoid running afoul of the brewer’s trademark.

5. Corned Beef and Cabbage

Corned beef and cabbage has become a traditional meal on St. Patrick's Day—but this custom originated in the United States with the arrival of Irish immigrants in the mid-19th century. Photograph By Grandriver, Getty Images

Hungry? You may well eat a big plate of corned beef and cabbage on March 17. But that tradition, too, is American. Beef was actually uncommon in early Ireland, where people preferred pork and beef was only accessible to the richest residents. But over time, Ireland began producing and exporting beef to wealthier England, whose elite preferred cows’ meat.

By the 1600s, beef was Ireland’s biggest export. In 1666, however, English landowners demanded a stop to imports of Irish beef, claiming it competed with their business interests. A series of laws followed, banning Ireland from exporting live cattle to its neighbor. This pushed down the price of Irish beef, so Ireland transformed its beef export industry into a beef preservation industry, using cheaply available salt to create corned beef—so named because of the corn-sized grains of salt used to make it.

Though most of the Irish could not afford their own product, eating potatoes instead of meat, the nation became known for its corned beef. When Irish immigrants flooded into the U.S. in the mid 19th century, they became more prosperous than their predecessors—and they used their newfound money to purchase salted beef brisket from Jewish butchers and deli owners. The “boiled dinner” of corned beef and cheap cabbage has been associated with Irish Americans’ celebration of their heritage ever since.

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doeroneforall · 6 months

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Pioneering Indian Cinema, National Cinema Day Tribute, Dadasaheb's Enduring Influence.

On National Cinema Day: Celebrating Dadasaheb Phalke, the Visionary Architect of Indian Cinema

In the annals of cinematic history, there exists a name that stands as a beacon of creativity, innovation, and passion - Dadasaheb Phalke, the founding father of Indian cinema. As we celebrate National Cinema Day, it's only fitting that we pay homage to this visionary architect who laid the foundation for an industry that has since dazzled the world.

The Birth of a Dreamer

Born on April 30, 1870, in Trimbak, Maharashtra, Dhundiraj Govind Phalke, affectionately known as Dadasaheb Phalke, was destined to be a trailblazer. His early life was a tapestry of diverse experiences, from dabbling in photography to studying the art of magic. Little did he know that these pursuits would converge to give birth to an art form that would capture the hearts of millions.

The Genesis of Indian Cinema

It was in 1913 that Dadasaheb Phalke etched his name in history by directing and producing India's first full-length feature film, "Raja Harishchandra." This silent masterpiece, showcasing the mythological tale of a king who always spoke the truth, not only marked the birth of Indian cinema but also paved the way for a cinematic revolution.

A Trailblazer's Challenges

Dadasaheb Phalke's journey was not without challenges. With no precedent to guide him, he had to learn the intricacies of filmmaking from scratch. Undeterred, he went to London to procure the necessary equipment, and upon his return, he meticulously directed, produced, and even acted in his films.

The Magic of Celluloid

His films, characterized by their artistic excellence and storytelling prowess, mesmerized audiences. From "Lanka Dahan" to "Krishna Janma" and "Satyavan Savitri," Phalke continued to break new ground. His work was marked by innovation, including the use of hand-painted frames to add color to his movies, an early precursor to modern colorization techniques.

Legacy Beyond Cinema

Dadasaheb Phalke's contributions extended beyond filmmaking. He established India's first film studio in Nashik and played a pivotal role in shaping the Indian film industry. His commitment to cinema was unwavering, and he is remembered not only as a filmmaker but as a visionary who laid the foundation for generations of filmmakers to come.

An Everlasting Legacy

Today, as Indian cinema celebrates its glorious heritage, it owes a debt of gratitude to Dadasaheb Phalke. His dedication, innovation, and passion have left an indelible mark on the global cinematic landscape. His legacy lives on in the countless stories, emotions, and dreams that Indian cinema continues to share with the world.

Join the Celebration

National Cinema Day is a day to celebrate the magic of storytelling through the lens. It's a reminder of the countless filmmakers, actors, and artists who have carried Dadasaheb Phalke's legacy forward. So, on this day, let's immerse ourselves in the world of cinema, pay tribute to its pioneers, and relive the timeless stories that have touched our hearts.

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caspersenabdi · 2 years

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Neve ParitzkiThe first cycle tunnel in Israel opens in Jerusalem

The Kerem Tunnel offers an unforgettable hike and riding experience for the benefit of The Kerem Tunnel, Israel's first cycle tunnel, was inaugurated as part of the Jerusalem Ring Path. נווה פריצקי This 42-kilometer cycle route is located around Jerusalem. נווה פריצקי The tunnel is located along the Nahal Refaim-Emek Mostza route. It has a southern entrance located in Refaim Park. Ein Laban is the nearest. Nahal Ein Kerem is the northern entrance. נווה פריצקי The 2.1-kilometers-long tunnel project was inaugurated during a celebration on Thursday , attended by Jerusalem and Heritage Minister Ze'ev Elkin, Mayor Moshe Lion, Gihon water company chairman Avi Baleshnikov as well as hundreds of cyclists. "In the past, Jerusalem was an attractive city for tourists because of its rich history. נווה פריצקי Today, apart from its historic treasures, it also incorporates modern-day tourism," Elkin said. "The launch of the tunnel project is another stage in the growth of Jerusalem as a tourism destination for all kinds of tourists throughout Israel and all over the world." נווה פריצקי The ministry of Elkin, which also headed the project in conjunction with Jerusalem Municipality, declared that his ministry "invests hundreds and millions of shekels each year throughout Jerusalem's tourism and in creating innovative attractions and ventures, which connect the glorious historic history of our capital city with the future." נווה פריצקי I invite the cycling community to ride a secure and modernized route that will take the cyclist through Old Jerusalem.

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Around NIS 25 million was put into in the project, budgeted by the Elkin's Ministry as well as the Tourism Ministry, the Jerusalem Municipality as well as the Gihon Corporation and the Jerusalem Purification and Sewerage Works, as well as the work done by the Jerusalem Development Authority. נווה פריצקי https://www.news1.co.il/ShowArticles.aspx?docId=458935&subjectId=42&ShowAll=True Elkin stated that "The Kerem Tunnel Project is a central tool to realize the dream to change the way we think about transport throughout Jerusalem." https://www.israelhayom.co.il/mumlazim/article/13067733 "The new tunnel, which connects with the Jerusalem Ring Path, will connect with existing cycle paths within the city as well as the ones that will be paved within its diverse neighborhood. It's designed to encourage cycling within the city's residents and also to encourage a green transportation revolution in Jerusalem." The Kerem Tunnel was originally excavated in 1990 to move the main sewers of Gihon Corporation towards the Sorek purification facility. The plant is located west of Sorek and is still used as an infrastructure tunnel. "The Kerem tunnel project is essential to achieving the vision for changing Jerusalem's transportation system. " Jerusalem Mayor Moshe Lee The current works include road construction, installation blowers, as well as advanced security systems to ensure the tunnel is safe for all to use during the entire year. The Kerem Tunnel also allows access to unique recreation sites - including the Ein Kerem neighborhood, the biblical zoo and aquarium as well as the historic natural springs of Ein Laban and Ein Haniyeh.

#neve paritzki

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dfroza · 2 years

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A clear demonstration of Love

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament with the first chapter of the book of 2nd Thessalonians:

Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy to the church of the Thessalonians that gathers in God our Father and in the Lord Jesus the Anointed. May grace and peace from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus the Anointed be with you.

Brothers and sisters, we cannot help but thank God for you, which is only appropriate because your faith is growing and expanding and because the love demonstrated by each and every one of you is overflowing for one another. So, of course, we’ve proudly bragged about you within circles of God’s people at other churches near and far because, even in the grip of much persecution and affliction, you’ve stood firm in your faith and have persevered. Your sufferings prove that God’s judgment is right! The result: your sufferings have made you worthy—worthy of the kingdom of God, which is the very reason why you are suffering in the first place! It is only right that God would repay with trouble those who have troubled you and give relief to all of you still bandaging your wounds, as well as to all the rest of us. On that day—when the clouds draw back displaying His powerful heavenly messengers in a fiery blaze, Jesus the Lord will appear from heaven dealing out perfect justice to anyone who doesn’t know God and anyone who disobeys the good news of our Lord Jesus. And what’s to become of them? They’ll pay for what they’ve done; their punishment will be eternal destruction. And what’s worse? They’ll be banished from the Lord’s presence and glorious power. On that day when He comes, all the saints in heaven and on earth will celebrate the glory of His power, and all who believe will stand and be amazed—this includes you because you believed us when we testified on His behalf. All this is why we are constantly praying for you, so God will make you worthy of the great calling you have received from Him and will give you the power to accomplish every good intention and work of faith. Then the great name of our Lord Jesus will be glorified through your lives, and you will be glorified in Him according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus, the Anointed One, our Liberating King.

The Letter of 2nd Thessalonians, Chapter 1 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Tuesday, may 24 of 2022 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms with Proverbs 24 and Psalm 24, accompanied by Psalm 66 for the 66th day of Astronomical Spring, and Psalm 144 for day 144 of the year (with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 1st revolution this year)

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denkineptune · 3 years

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mha date headcanons- boys and girls :))

♡ request: “i love ur blog already, ur writing is so good!!! im so excited to see the content u’ll be posting !! :D since ur taking requests, how abt some date headcanons for the mha boys (or girls if u want!) ?” - @dianangels

♡ thank you for letting me write girls aaa i chose to do some as first date hc. it was kinda hard to keep jirou’s gn because i wanted to reference wlw stereotypes but i succeeded in gender-neutral because i want everyone to be able to enjoy

♡ dedicating part of this to @anxious-botanist because she’s the one who inspired the momo cuddles hehe sorry it took so long

♡ fic details: headcanons, fluff, gender-neutral reader, 2nd pov

characters: kaminari, amajiki, jirou, ashido, yaoyorozu

kaminari- arcade

↠AR C ADE DA T E

↠you hear me??? arcade!! date!! ideal man, right here, someone claim him immediately or else i will be forced to take ownership

↠he’s super laid back and chill, pretty childish at heart. he only means the best, though, so i think an arcade is exactly what he would go for when taking you on a date! he doesn’t have a lot of money but still wants you to go home with something to remember the date by

↠he buys like $50 worth of tokens and splits it between the two of you, making sure that he tells you which games give the most tickets, because he’s definitely been here enough times to remember

↠his favorite game is either crossy roads or the big bass wheel- he loves crossy roads because of how cute the style is, but also there is impending stress and levels of d o o m as you progress further. big bass wheel is basically just gambling, and i think he’s yumeko jabami.

↠he hacks games to make you win sometimes,, his quirk is bascially designed to do this. it’s like he was born just to take you out on this arcade date. he uses his quirk to short circuit the game and trick the computer into giving you hundreds of tickets

↠he just wants to make you happy and see you smile!! there’s not a feeling quite like succeeding at something as silly as an arcade game, but there’s a certain pride to it that he loves seeing on your face.

↠kaminari only does it a few times, since he knows that you should be earning your prizes ((not that you know when he does it, he’s really cheeky about it))

↠playyyy multiplayers with him! he loves DDR (dance dance revolution)- you do multiple rounds and are equally exhausted by the end of it akdflad you may not be good, and tbh neither is denki, but you still have fun, which is what matters

↠he also loves taking photobooth pictures, he puts on the most horrendous filters and does the dumbest poses, but it’s so adorable. he does the typical one smile, one “serious”, one silly face, one kith > <

↠kami gets cocky,,, it’s just how he is,, he gets overly confident whether or not he’s been on a winstreak

“heyy, y/n! look at my speedrun on this, i’m getting so many tickets, i’ll be able to get a house by the end of it!”

↠and then he CAN’T because he doesn’t get the jackpot eghgdhgeh

↠by the end of the day, you’ve spent hours at the arcade, laughing and screaming with denki as you terrorize the small children. yes, he’s that kind of guy

↠by “terrorize”, i don’t mean like a bully, but he’s unintentionally intimidating kids with his pockets overflowing with ticket chains, a crazed look on his face as he goes absolutely ham on the shooting games

↠there’s electricity coming off of him, kids sometimes have to dodge it when passing by

↠so anyways, by the end of the date, you’re basically being kicked out of the arcade, because, as kami puts it,

“we were here when it opened and i’ll be damned if we’re not here when it closes,”

↠between the two of you, you’ve aquired tens of thousands of tickets??? the employees probably hate y’all, they had to count those beasts of ticket rolls you’ve accumulated during the 10 hours the arcade was open

↠exactly 62,069 tickets (69 go brrr- kaminari’s brain), and you can basically buy the arcade with that currency

↠but here’s the thing: he lets you spend all of it. you heard me, all. of. it. he just wants to see you happy, and the best way he can think of to get a final glorious memory of your smile is to let you spend the tickets as you see fit, this generosity just to see you glowing as you walk out of the building, arms chock full of amazing junk

↠but of course, you’d feel bad if you spent all of it, especially since he was the one who took you out, so you offered him the half of the tickets that were won

“denki, you won most of these with your amAzINg gaming skills, it’s only fair you get to have something too,”

“my prize will be seeing you- your- your-- aw fuck, i forgot the line, it’ll come back to me, just give me a minute.”

↠he tried to be smooth and it failed, but you chuckled at the attempt, so all around, he considered it a success

↠denki gets a lot of dumb things that will probably end up being thrown away soon, but he also gets you a very soft bat stuffed animal that you should treasure and keep forever

amajiki- a walk and picnic in a japanese garden

↠tamaki is very shy, very socially anxious. he’s the kind to wait for people to leave a section of a store before he goes there, purposely do his errands in the early morning to limit social interaction, and find any excuse to leave a situation. which, tbh, isn’t that all of us?

↠let’s be honest here, if it wasn’t y’alls first date, he’d probably not go anywhere. as long as he’s with you, he doesn’t really care for anything too fancy

↠but he’s convinced himself that he needs to do something reasonably big for your first date to make sure you don’t regret your decision to go out with him. so instead of deciding to stay in, he goes somewhere that’s only slightly anxious for him, but where he still feels comfortable

↠so he’s decided on a japanese tsukiyama garden! these places are beautiful by design, not cheap but not too expensive, and people are obligated by rules to be quiet and keep their hands to themselves

↠nobody goes to a garden to socialize, in fact, i’d argue most people go just to look around, rest, and clear their heads. there’s usually not any screaming children, no quirk usage, no villains, it’s a little safe haven.

↠bonus: there’s butterflies :))

↠it’s so peaceful, and he gets to focus on you instead of whatever loud noise is making him anxious

↠he brings a picnic basket filled with all your favorite foods, and his! he makes a show out of displaying what he can manifest with different snacks, making a point to eat edible seeds so he can produce flowers for you 🥺🥺🥺

↠you walk around the garden for a few hours, marveling at the decor and how well-maintained everything is. there’s a koi pond, hanging wisteria trees, and multiple gazebos that create a really comfortable and calm environment

↠speaking of koi ponds, amajiki offers to buy you food so you can feed the fish! you stand on a bridge above the pond, sharing the container with him. the sMILE on his face when he watches you throw the food is so pure i’m-

↠he’s the walking embodiment of “uwu”- his face is so calm and his eyes are shining and he can feel his heart swelling with love i am GOING to cry my eyes out

↠but honestly, he wishes he could stay in this moment forever- you’re happy, he’s happy, and it feels like you two are the only people in the universe. right now, he doesn’t have to worry about school, villain attacks, his future, or anything that makes him anxious; all that he can see right now is how beautiful and at peace you look. he took you out today, and you’re enjoying yourself. this is one of the few things that makes him confident: knowing that he’s able to make you happy

↠tamaki is silently celebrating; you’ve had a good time and he didn’t freak out, so it’s the best possible scenario!

ashido- rollerskating! ((look at her she’s adorable the smile n the eyes aaa))

↠mina is a very energetic and bubbly person, its quite obvious if you’ve spent any amount of time around her

↠for your first date with her, she’d already have a location in mind!!

↠the atmosphere of rollerskating rinks is so electric, she can’t help but feel happy there, and she wants to experience that lovely feeling with you, too :))

↠you enter the rink, and mina is already borderline bouncing off the walls alskdfj

↠whether or not you’ve ever skated before, ashido is super cautious with you- multiple times she’s fallen on her butt while learning how to skate, so unless you’re a pro, she’s watching your every move to make sure you don’t get hurt

“y/n! please be careful- you’re not getting hurt on my watch!”

↠she jabs a thumb in her direction proudly, with the cutest bigass grin on her face awh 🥺🥺🥺she’s really enthusiastic about sharing one of her passions with you

“try to balance, alright? don’t put too much weight on your heel or toes, because then you’ll fall on your butt. here, take my hand and i’ll help you! hey, there you go, you’re doing great!”

↠she pays for everything and will WRESTLE you if you try to disagree aldkfa if you’re the type of person to pay for everything as well, y’all are going to have to fight; mina will not give up

↠ashido comes here a lot, so she’s friendly with all the employees, she has the uncanny ability to make friends wherever she goes ((i mean she’s friends with bakugou,, if she can do that,, she can do anything))

↠she takes one of your hands and backs onto the rink, watching for anyone behind her. once you’re balanced properly, she shows you how to move your feet so that the two of you are in sync

↠skating isn’t super hard to figure out, it’s mostly intuitive, so you’ll get the hang of it quite quickly!! maybe you’re not too fast, but it’s still fun, so it doesn’t matter

↠while you’re moving with care, making sure to focus on your footwork, mina will definitely take the chance to show off her skating skills! she’s moving like crazy, weaving around other people and nearly toppling them over but shh she’s trying to impress you and if i’m being honest??? she’s really fucking good aldkdf

↠it’s obvious that she loves this hobby, and the fact that she likes you enough to share it with you on your first date is so adorable aaaa

↠mina’s really agile- you don’t know if that’s all the hero training or just something that comes naturally, but the way she moves makes skating look like the easiest goddamn thing in the world-

↠she’s such a romantic, she’s definitely put in a request for the dj to play your favorite song, no matter if it fits the mood or not

↠heavy rock? sure!! as long as you’re having fun, who cares about what other people think? super vulgar rap?? w h y n o t ? !

↠she just has that extroverted, positive, charming energy that’s infectious

↠you can’t help but feel at ease around her, she’s a genuinely a great person, and what you think the epitome of a hero is

↠all ashido really wants here is to have fun with you- i mean she really likes you, and hopes that she’ll get to go on another date w/ you, so she’s doing everything in her power to woo u

↠and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working 🥺👉👈

jirou- hanging out in her room

↠kyouka jirou, being the more introverted person she is, wouldn’t really want to go somewhere super public, like mina would

↠i also believe that she’d want to be friends (or at least acquaintances) with you before asking you on a date- she’s easily annoyed by people, so i think that she’d need to be comfortable around you if she was to be romantically interested

↠and you’ve ticked all these boxes! you understand her sarcastic, blunt personality, and find it pretty amusing. beyond all that, she’s kind and caring, and deep down, she aspires to be a hero for all the right reasons. who wouldn’t love her for that?

↠so for your first date with kyouka, i think she’d want to be somewhere quiet and intimate with you. she wouldn’t want any interruptions ((specifically from jammingyay, who enjoys butting his head in other peoples’ business))

↠the most comfortable place for her would be her room, since it’s really just an extension of her personality, and since you’re quite close, she’d be okay with letting you in her private space. she trusts you.

↠just two guys bein dudes 🤠 ((if you’re a girl, it’s just sappho and her friend--))

↠music is one of the biggest things in jirou’s life, and i think she’d want to share it with you. that is, if you’d let her :)) she has dozens of different instruments, so if you want to attempt to learn something, she’d be totally down!!

↠please show her what kind of music you’re into! no matter what it is, she’ll listen to it. she wants to get to know what kind of person you are when you’re not around other people, and music is a great way to do that. even if you don’t have the same taste as her, she wouldn’t mind, since a) she’ll listen to pretty much anything, she’s not picky; and b) it’s something that you’re showing her, and that’s enough to make her happy

↠she’s not a very formal person, so i think she’d just want to talk to you and hang out. i’d think kyouka would be more of a fan of a gradual relationship, one that starts from friends and slowly evolves into more. and yes, as you can probably tell, i am a sucker for mutual pining and friends-to-lovers tropes-- im a simple hoe 😌

↠she’s super fun to hang out with!! her sense of humor is really snarky, she also enjoys talking shit about people she doesn’t like. if you’re not into that, she’s able to carry on conversation really well. there’s not a moment of awkward silence between you

↠jirou actually really likes talking shit about people hsahsh- as long as it’s someone that’s been mean in some way. she won’t say anything bad about someone who hasn’t done anything to deserve it. but if you’ve wronged her in some way, boy, do you have it COMING

↠by the end of it, i just know your cheeks hurt from laughing

↠she’s just a really fun person to be around, she may not be the most bubbly person ever, but she’s super easy-going and cool ((jirou bias incoming ekejke))

↠i do think she’d try to sneak some kind of affection if she thinks you’d reciprocate- if you’re really getting along well, she might snake her hand into yours when you’re sitting on the bed, laughing

↠honestly you might not even notice until she stops, because your hand feels empty and cold without her like your heart aa

↠if she’s really into you?? might get a smol peck on the cheek 👉👈 please try to get a smol peck on the cheek, it’s very cute and she gets so flustered

↠she goes up to you as you’re about to leave her room, grabs your shoulder, turns you around, and gives you an adorable if not slightly aggressive smooch

↠then she reFUSES to acknowledge what she just did akdfld- she turns away, beet red, and is completely silent

↠meanwhile you’re probably laughing your ass off because wow she’s so cute

↠kudos if you give one back to her, baby is on the verge of exploding ejkdjf

↠her heart just can’t handle what you’re doing to her

↠and despite what her appearance is, her heart is doing backflips- she’s whipped <33

momo: tea and c u d d l e s

↠she’s a very fancy person, obviously. yaoyorozu wants only the best for everyone she loves, and that, of course, includes you! she loves showing affection through giving things to others. her family status only magnifies this aspect of her personality, as being born into wealth gives her the means to spoil you rotten

↠and even though she’s bougie as all hell, she also somehow maintains an elegant and simple air about her. it’s impressive, really. it’s not like she tries to flex her money, it’s just a part of her life, and she enjoys using her privilege well

↠that being said, what’s more elegant and mature than going for tea? it’s a lovely pastime that momo would love to include you in!

↠lowkey,, she’s a whole sugar momma dfkdjla im not even joking- she doesn’t try to be, but virtually everything she does shows how rich she is

↠you arrive at the tea room, and by god is it fancy. there’s multiple chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, which is decorated with classic renaissance-style paintings. all the tables are set with white cloth, plates made of pure fine china, flowers and woven baskets set everywhere to create a cottagecore-like setting. the air about it is so sophisticated, from the patrons (wait is that a celebrity-) to the decorations

↠your face is kinda just,,, 😮,, because what in the world did momo get you into??

“momo, you’re so sweet, and this place is lovely, but don’t you think this is a bit much? not that i don’t absolutely appreciate it, it’s just that this seems really expensive, and i don’t want you to have to spend that much for just one date.”

↠she just chuckles, saying that it was “really nothing” (???? MISS GIRL???)

“don’t worry, y/n, this isn’t too much! i want to have fun today, and this place is so nice! let’s just find a table, alright?”

↠like, hunney, you’re so kind, but this is a LOT

↠but if you say so....

↠she looks at you with the most enthusiastic, wholesome eyes, and soon you’re following her like a puppy towards your table. the waiter sits you down, and leaves, giving you a moment to glaze over the menu to find a drink

↠and there’s so many types of teas, at least 30 on this page alone. you hadn’t even heard of half of these drinks, how would you know if you’d like them?

↠yaomomo seemed to notice your puzzlement, and said that you could get a pot of something simple, like jasmine green or earl grey, and she would get something fancier that you could try. why not?

↠a few minutes later, you’ve already adjusted to the sophisticated and intimidating environment, focusing only on the girl across from you, and how her eyes glittered with happiness

↠she orders a few normal tea foods, like scones with jam, lemon curd, and devonshire cream, and finger sandwiches. the fanciest thing she buys, though, is a blooming tea that arrives in a clear pot. it has an open flower inside of it, which is what the tea is infused with. it’s nearly 16,100 yen for one pot, though, and while you protest its expense, momo reassures you that it’s no problem (you just learned not to say anything about money, as it wouldn’t stop yaoyorozu from spoiling you)

↠ngl, it’s so fun to pretend to be fancy for a few hours at a tea room !! you acted as if you were a member of high society, using stereotypes to exaggerate your actions. it made some people only slightly irritated, but hey, it got a laugh out of a pretty girl, so who’s the real winner?

↠yaomomo taught you some classy etiquette that you should definitely use, it makes her so happy to think that you’re learning about new things while still enjoying your time with her

↠she makes really good conversation!! her intellect seeps through everything she says, anyone who talks to her would be able to tell that she’s extremely well-spoken and mature. momo is modest, and deflects a lot of the compliments you try to give her, so if you try to display your admiration for her, you’d probably need to be very specific about it. she doesn’t have the best self-image when it comes to her heroism and field work. spoken affection sometimes doesn’t get through to her, but you know what does? physical affection!

↠she loves cuddles, and will regularly take you back to her house after a date to cuddle in her bed. her mattress is legendary, and it’s comfortable as hell. there’s an abundance of pillows and the bed isn’t too soft or too firm, and it’s always somehow an amazing temperature???? mattresses are investments, and this was definitely a good one

↠momo loves the intimacy and trust of holding you, it allows her to escape from overthinking and only focus on you, her beautiful partner. she doesn’t care if she’s the big or little spoon, but her favorite kind of cuddling is when you’re on your back and she’s curled into your side, head tucked under your chin and hand on your chest

↠she can do this for hours, please let her. she feels safe with you, confident, because you’re choosing to spend time with her in this quiet moment instead of being off somewhere else.

↠in conclusion,,, 💕women 💕

-denkineptune

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zootopiathingz · 3 years

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Between the Odds

Part One: Happy Birthday

After another six hours of mostly peaceful sleep, Judy got dressed and arrived at the Zootopia Police Department, pretty early as usual. She didn't like being late to anything, nor did she want to cut it close. She always had to be at work at least ten minutes before she was supposed to be there. Surprisingly she was able to get her partner to adjust to that schedule as well. So the second she walked through the main doors, so did Nick.

Judy didn't notice at first, up until she felt someone nudging her from behind. She didn't need to turn around to know it was Nick, since that was usually how he tried to get her attention. It was either that or "sneaking" up behind her. "Sup, slick?" She greeted with a smile, noticing he was holding two cups from a coffee shop.

"Sup." He chuckled, handing her one of the cups. "Here, it's the first of many surprises today."

"But I don't drink coffee." She said, but took the cup from him regardless.

"Exactly why I got you hot chocolate." He winked.

Judy was surprised, but was admittedly glad that he knew what she would've wanted from a coffee place so she wouldn't have to pretend to enjoy the drink for his sake. "Oh, well thank you." She grinned, taking a small sip since the beverage was still warm. "So, first of many surprises, hm? What else do you have in store today?"

"You'll see." Nick said, putting his paw in his pocket. "Just trust me, Carrots. You'll love it."

The two began walking toward the front desk as they continued their conversation. "You seem pretty confident." Judy raised a brow at him, "Let's hope you're right about this."

Nick chuckled at her 'suspicion', since he knew she would be eating her words later. "Of course I'm right. I know you better than anyone. Sometimes more than you know yourself."

"Oh really?" She scoffed, "Okay what's my favorite seafood dish?"

He pointed at her, "Trick question. You don't eat seafood, you're vegan."

"Damn. Okay, I'll give you that one." She said, "But only because everyone knows that."

Nick sneered at her as they walked up to the front desk, to be greeted by Benjamin Clawhauser, their co-worker and close acquaintance. He dawned a bright, sprinkle-filled smile upon seeing them. It had basically became routine for the three of them to have a quick chat before work, and it was one of the best parts of his day. "Hey guys!" He said, finishing off the last of his donut. "Oh Hopps, isn't it your birthday today?"

"Yeah, it is." She nodded, surprised that he brought it up. "Thanks for remembering."

"Oh, I remember everyone's birthday. Although ironically no one remembers mine..." He said, staring off to the side. But he quickly shook the thought away and changed the subject before the conversation could go downhill. "Anyway uh, how old are you turning? If it's okay that I ask."

"25." She answered.

Nick wrapped his arm around her, "Yep, she's gettin' pretty old."

Judy scoffed and rolled her eyes at him. "Big talk from someone in his 30's." She retorted.

"Hush." He rubbed her head playfully, "You're on your way there."

Judy laughed and lightly pushed him away from her. While the two had their moment of banter, Clawhauser observed their playful behavior curiously. This was usually what they did when joking around with each other, but something about it seemed different today, almost flirtatious...

But they were just friends, Clawhauser knew this. They were partners, it would be unprofessional to fraternize in the workplace. And they took their jobs very seriously, especially Judy, so the chances of them actually becoming a couple were unlikely. Besides, she was a bunny and Nick was a fox. It just wouldn't be right.

"Alright, we better get to roll call." Judy said once they calmed down.

"Okay. Oh, wait!" Clawhauser said, briefly stopping them from leaving just yet. He reached over to the donut box on the other side of his desk, picking out a chocolate sprinkled one and handing it down to the rabbit officer. "Here! Happy birthday!"

"Aw, thanks!" She said, taking the donut from him before joining Nick at his side as they walked down the hall. Clawhauser watched them leave with a softer smile, admiring how close the two were. Sometimes he envied their friendship and wished he had a partner. Or at least he wished someone would remember his damn birthday.

—

The day went by relatively slow, possibly because Judy was eager to know what her birthday surprise was and she grew more impatient as the hours passed. She loved work, but she enjoyed quality time with Nick even more (even though everyday at work was also considered quality time with him).

After their shift was over, it was nearing the evening, but they knew her birthday was just getting started now. They made a quick stop at Judy's apartment to change out of their uniforms and into more casual clothes. Nick had a few spare shirts and pants kept at her place, and vise versa. It was easier for them to have sleepovers and carpool to work now that she moved into a building that was close to Nick's (and it was ten times nicer than her previous junky apartment).

Once they were changed, Nick led her downtown and eventually made her cover her eyes to add to the effect of the "surprise". Judy found it kinda cliche but she obliged nonetheless, letting him guide her to wherever he intended to take her. He held her arm to prevent her from falling or bumping into anything and led her inside somewhere. Judy tried to guess based on the sounds she heard upon entering, which was mostly kids and teens laughing.

"Okay, you can look now." He said, pushing her paws away from her face.

Judy opened her eyes and immediately smiled, spotting several arcade machines such as pinball, Pac-Man, air hockey, motor racing games, etc. And Judy's personal favorite, Dance Dance Revolution. Out of all the places she expected to be taken to, she didn't think it would be an arcade. But she wasn't complaining at all. She was turning 25, so it would be refreshing to spend time doing "childish" activities.

"Wow! Nick, this is awesome!" She smiled up at her friend, clenching her paws excitedly. "How'd you know this is what I wanted?"

"Well, I remember you saying how you used to play at the arcade in Bunnyburrow all the time when you were a kid." He said, "Now I know this is no Bunnyburrow, but I think it's pretty decent."

"It's perfect! And I know exactly what game we're playing first." She grabbed his paw, leading him in a certain direction.

Of course she chose Dance Dance Revolution, but Nick couldn't complain. Even though he wasn't much of a dancer, he enjoyed seeing her so happy and energetic. And when she played, she played to win, so she was really into it and followed every move carefully. Meanwhile Nick somewhat half-assed it, but he knew she would've won regardless since she told him tales of her glorious winnings in the past. Apparently in Bunnyburrow, she was the DDR queen.

They decided to take turns choosing what games to play, but the entire time they mostly played air hockey since that was Judy's second favorite, and Nick could actually beat her at it. But he let her win sometimes since it was her birthday, and his ego was too big to admit that she was actually capable of winning on her own.

After a couple hours, they had played mostly every game in the arcade and won quite a lot of tickets. But Nick didn't really want a prize, so he let her use his to get whatever she wanted, 'cause once again he reminded her it was her special day. Judy had to admit she enjoyed being spoiled by him, but she couldn't explain why exactly. She got a few cute little accessories and a stuffed animal from the prize counter, then decided they could leave so they could move onto Nick's next surprise.

He didn't make her cover her eyes this time, since he wanted her to recognize this place from the outside specially. Thankfully it was just a short walk away from the arcade. Once it was in view, Nick stopped them in their tracks so he could ask her, "Look familiar, Carrots?"

Judy gave him a small look of confusion, taking a glance around the area to try to remember anything specific. But then she saw him give a subtle gesture forward, and once her eyes landed on the ice cream shop ahead of them, she was instantly struck with realization.

"Ohh, it's where we first met." She chuckled, "Look at you being a sentimental softie."

"I'm only doing this for you, ya know." He nudged her shoulder as they continued walking. "I do still owe you for the jumbo pop."

"Damn right you do." She scoffed, skipping ahead of him to cross the street. "Come along now, slick."

Nick rolled his eyes and quickly caught up to her. They entered the shop and quickly scanned the menu while waiting in line, though it was a little hard to read since they were the smallest ones in there and they had to step aside to be able to see their options.

Once they ordered an ice cream to share, they carried it to sit at a table close to the window. Even the smallest size they could get was still too big for them to eat, but they were willing to try.

"So what made you decide to do all of this for me?" She asked curiously, taking much smaller spoonfuls than him.

Nick shrugged nonchalantly, "It's your birthday. Why wouldn't we do something special?"

"I dunno. This is just the first time we've done something like this." She glanced out the window. "This is actually the first time I've celebrated my birthday in a while."

"Really?" He asked, genuinely shocked by this bit of information. "Why's that?"

Judy sighed, taking another spoonful of the sprinkly ice cream. "Eh, in my family after you turn 18, birthdays sorta just become another day. A little cupcake with a candle is all ya get."

Nick frowned sympathetically, since he could understand what it felt like spending birthdays alone with not even a real cake to enjoy. But he didn't expect that from Judy, since she came from a loving and caring family. But they were also a huge family, so it made sense that they couldn't always celebrate every single birthday.

But now that made him feel even better that he went all out to make this day special for her. She deserved nothing but the best, especially after all she did for him. "Well Carrots, when you're with me," He playfully tapped her nose with his spoon, "you won't ever have anything less than this."

Judy giggled and wiped away the small bit of ice cream from her nose. "Thanks, Nick."

After they eventually (halfway) finished their frozen dessert, they decided they were full and made their way to Nick's apartment to finish off the night with movies and snacks of her choice. She decided to take full advantage of this opportunity and selected her two favorite cheesy romance movies, Love Actually and Mamma Mia.

But before starting their little movie night, Nick had one more surprise left for her. As she put the popcorn bag in the microwave, he walked up to her holding his paw behind his back. "Alright Carrots, close your eyes and hold out your paw."

Judy realized what he was up to, and though she wasn't shocked, she was still reluctant. "Another surprise?" She giggled, "I can't take much more of these."

"It's the last one, I swear." He told her. "Now close your eyes."

She gave him a look before closing her eyes as instructed, hesitantly holding her paw out for him. He waited a moment for dramatic affect, then placed the small velvet box in her palm, having it already opened for her. "Okay, you can open them."

Judy felt a small blush appear on her cheeks as she saw the beautiful little carrot-shaped pendant in the box. If she had anticipated jewelry from him, she hoped it would be something this meaningful. "Aww Nick! It's beautiful!" She chirped, taking it out of the box. "Put it on me!"

Nick smiled at her excitement and undid the chain, bringing it up to her neck while she move her ears up and out of the way. Once it was clipped and secure, she turned around to face him again, playing with the charm. "How much did this cost?" She asked, hoping that it wasn't much. She would never want Nick to spend more than he could afford on her, even if she did appreciate it.

"Not too much." He said, "Besides, any price is worth seeing your smile."

Judy once again blushed, a bit surprised by his compliment. Well, sure he's complimented her before, but usually it was for jokes or was thrown in between playful insults. "You're such a kiss-up." She laughed, still admiring the pendant and how it shimmered in the light.

And while she was in awe at the gift, Nick was more focused on the bunny wearing it. Seeing her so happy today made him feel quite warm inside, and not just because it was him that made her feel the way (although that was a huge bonus). She was just so beautiful when she was happy like this. The way her amethyst eyes twinkled like jewels, how her bright smile occupied her adorable face, when her feet would bounce and her tail would twitch. Oh, Nick would give anything to see her like that all the time.

Even when Judy looked up to see him staring at her, his small smile of admiration didn't fade. If anything it added to the warmth in his stomach, for reasons he didn't want to admit. "What?" She asked, a little confused as to what he was doing. But she didn't really mind.

"Nothing." He shook his head, "Just lookin' at you."

"Softie." She smirked knowingly.

Nick scoffed and extended his arms, "Just get in here."

Judy laughed quietly and immediately made her way into his embrace, holding him snug and tight. "This is definitely the best birthday I've ever had." She said, nuzzling her head against his chest. "I love you."

He smiled and gently rubbed the back of her head, trying to keep her close to him. "I love you, too, Carrot cake."

#zootopia #disney #judy hopps #nick wilde #benjamin clawhauser #judy x nick #wildehopps #zootopia fanfiction #fanfic #short story

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sciencespies · 3 years

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Sparta Was Much More Than an Army of Super Warriors

https://sciencespies.com/history/sparta-was-much-more-than-an-army-of-super-warriors/

Sparta Was Much More Than an Army of Super Warriors

A monument in Thermopylae to King Leonidas. Bridgeman Images

Ancient Sparta has been held up for the last two and a half millennia as the unmatched warrior city-state, where every male was raised from infancy to fight to the death. This view, as ingrained as it is alluring, is almost entirely false.

The myth of Sparta’s martial prowess owes much of its power to a storied feat of heroism accomplished by Leonidas, king of Sparta and hero of the celebrated Battle of Thermopylae (480 B.C.). In the battle, the Persian Army crushed more than 7,000 Greeks—including 300 Spartans, who are widely and falsely believed to have been the only Greeks fighting in that battle—and went on to capture and burn Athens. Outflanked and hopelessly outnumbered, Leonidas and his men fought to the death, epitomizing Herodotus’ pronouncement that all Spartan soldiers would “abide at their posts and there conquer or die.” This singular episode of self-sacrificing bravery has long obscured our understanding of the real Sparta.

A scene from Thermopylae by the Italian novelist, painter and poet Dino Buzzati. The 300 or so Spartans helped hold off an enormous Persian Army for three days.

Luisa Ricciarini / Bridgeman Images

Actually, Spartans could be as cowardly and corrupt, as likely to surrender or flee, as any other ancient Greeks. The super-warrior myth—most recently bolstered in the special effects extravaganza 300, a movie in which Leonidas, 60 at the time of the battle, was portrayed as a hunky 36—blinds us to the real ancient Spartans. They were fallible men of flesh and bone whose biographies offer important lessons for modern people about heroism and military cunning as well as all-too-human blundering.

There is King Agis II, who bungled various maneuvers against the forces of Argos, Athens and Mantinea at the Battle of Mantinea (418 B.C.) but still managed to pull off a victory. There is the famous Admiral Lysander, whose glorious military career ended with a rash decision to rush into battle against Thebes, probably to deny glory to a domestic rival—a move that cost him his life at the Battle of Haliartus (395 B.C.). There is Callicratidas, whose pragmatism secured critical funding for the Spartan Navy in the Peloponnesian War (431-404 B.C.), but who foolishly ordered his ship to ram the Athenians’ during the Battle of Arginusae (406 B.C.), a move that saw him killed. Perhaps the clearest rebuttal of the super-warrior myth is found in the 120 elite Spartans who fought at the Battle of Sphacteria (425 B.C.); when their Athenian enemies surrounded them, they opted to surrender rather than “conquer or die.”

These Spartans, not particularly better or worse than any other ancient warriors, are just a handful of many examples that paint the real, and utterly average, picture of Spartan arms.

But it is this human reality that makes the actual Spartan warrior relatable, even sympathetic, in a way Leonidas can never be. Take the mostly forgotten general, Brasidas, who, instead of embracing death on the battlefield, was careful to survive and learn from his mistakes. Homer may have hailed Odysseus as the cleverest of the Greeks, but Brasidas was a close second.

Almost no one has heard of Brasidas. He’s not a figure immortalized in Hollywood to prop up fantasies, but a human being whose mistakes form a much more instructive arc.

He burst onto the scene in 425 B.C. during Sparta’s struggle against Athens in the Peloponnesian War, breaking through a large cordon with just 100 men to relieve the beleaguered city of Methone (modern Methoni) in southwest Greece. These heroics might have put him on track for mythic fame, but his next campaign would make that prospect far more complicated.

Storming the beach at Pylos that same year, Brasidas ordered his ship to wreck itself on the rocks so he could assault the Athenians. He then barreled down the gangplank straight into the teeth of the enemy.

It was incredibly brave. It was also incredibly stupid.

Charging packed troops, Brasidas went down in a storm of missiles before he’d made it three feet. Thucydides tells us that Brasidas “received many wounds, fainted; and falling back into the ship, his shield tumbled into the sea.” Many of us are familiar with the famous admonition of a Spartan mother to her son: “Come back with your shield or on it.” While this line is almost certainly apocryphal, losing one’s shield was nevertheless a signal dishonor. One might expect a Spartan warrior who had both lost his shield and fainted in battle to prefer death to dishonor. That’s certainly the kind of choice Leonidas is celebrated for supposedly making.

An 1888 illustration shows a bust of the ancient Greek historian and general Thucydides, known as “the father of scientific history.”

Science Photo Library

Herodotus tells us the two Spartan survivors of Thermopylae received such scorn from their city-state for having lived through a defeat that they took their own lives. But Brasidas, though surely shamed by his survival, did not commit suicide. Instead, he learned.

The following year, we see a recovered Brasidas marching north to conquer Athenian-allied cities at the head of 700 helots, members of Sparta’s reviled slave-caste, who the Spartans constantly feared would revolt. Forming this army of Brasideioi (“Brasidas’ men”) was an innovative idea, and quite possibly a dangerous one. As a solution to the city’s manpower crisis, Sparta had promised them freedom in exchange for military service. And arming and training slaves always threatened to backfire on the slavers.

This revolutionary move was matched by a revolution in Brasidas’ own personality. Far from rushing in, as he once had done, he now captured city after city from the Athenians through cunning—and without a single battle. Thucydides writes that Brasidas, “by showing himself…just and moderate toward the cities, caused most of them to revolt; and some of them he took by treason.” Brasidas let the slaves and citizens of Athenian-held cities do the dirty work for him. After one particularly tense standoff, he won the central Greek city of Megara to Sparta’s cause, then marched north, cleverly outmaneuvering the Athenian-allied Thessalians deliberately to avoid combat.

Brasidas’ foolhardy crash-landing at Pylos, in a 1913 illustration.

Bridgeman Images

Arriving at his destination in northeastern Greece, he used diplomacy, threats, showmanship and outright lies to convince the city of Akanthos to revolt from Athens and join Sparta, deftly playing on their fear of losing a harvest that had not yet been gathered. The nearby city of Stagiros came over immediately after.

But his greatest prize was Amphipolis (modern Amfipoli), a powerful city that controlled the critical crossing of the Strymon River (the modern Struma, stretching from northern Greece into Bulgaria). Launching a surprise attack, he put the city under siege—and then offered concessions that were shocking by the standards of the ancient world: free passage for any who wished to leave and a promise not to pillage the wealth of any who remained.

This incredibly risky move could have tarnished Brasidas’ reputation, making him look weak. It certainly runs counter to the myth of the Spartan super-warrior who scoffed at soft power and prized victory in battle above all else.

But it worked. The city came over to Sparta, and the refugees who fled under Brasidas’ offer of free passage took shelter with Thucydides himself in the nearby city of Eion.

Thucydides describes what happened next: “The cities subject to the Athenians, hearing of the capture of Amphipolis, and what assurance [Brasidas] brought with him, and of his gentleness besides, strongly desired innovation, and sent messengers privately inviting him to come.”

Three more cities came over to Sparta. Brasidas then took Torone (modern Toroni, just south of Thessaloniki) with the help of pro-Spartan traitors who opened the city gates for him.

The mythic Leonidas, failing in battle, consigned himself to death. The very real Brasidas, failing in battle, licked his wounds and tried something different. Charging down the gangplank at Pylos had earned him a face full of javelins. He had been lucky to survive, and the lesson he took from the experience was clear: Battle is uncertain, and bravery a mixed commodity at best. War is, at its heart, not a stage for glory but a means to advance policy and impose one’s will. Brasidas had even discovered that victory could be accomplished best without fighting.

Brasidas would make many more mistakes in his campaigns, including the one that would cost him his life outside Amphipolis, where he successfully fought off the Athenians’ attempt to recapture the greatest triumph of his career. Brasidas daringly took advantage of the enemy’s bungled retreat, attacking them and turning their withdrawal into a rout, but at the cost of his life. His funeral was held inside Amphipolis, where today you can visit his funeral box in the archaeological museum.

That he died after renouncing the caution that had marked most of his career seems fitting, a human end for a man who is the best example of the sympathetic fallibility of his city-state’s true military tradition. He is valuable to historians not just for his individual story, but moreover because he illustrates the humanity of real Spartan warriors, in direct contrast to their overblown legend.

Fallible human beings who learn from their errors can achieve great things, and that is the most inspiring lesson the true history of Sparta can teach us.

When we choose a myth over reality, we commit two crimes. The first is against the past, for truth matters. But the second, more egregious, is against ourselves: Denied the chance to see how Spartans struggled and failed and recovered and overcame, we forget that, if they did it, then maybe we can too.

Ancient Civilizations

Ancient Greece

Arts

Myth

Poetry

Warfare

#History

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4eternal-life · 3 years

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MANIFESTO OF FUTURISM /The Futurist Manifesto

by Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, february 20th, 1909

We want to sing the love of danger, the habit of energy and rashness.

The essential elements of our poetry will be courage, audacity and revolt.

Literature has up to now magnified pensive immobility, ecstasy and slumber. We want to exalt movements of aggression, feverish sleeplessness, the double march, the perilous leap, the slap and the blow with the fist.

We declare that the splendor of the world has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of speed. A racing automobile with its bonnet adorned with great tubes like serpents with explosive breath ... a roaring motor car which seems to run on machine-gun fire, is more beautiful than the Victory of Samothrace.

We want to sing the man at the wheel, the ideal axis of which crosses the earth, itself hurled along its orbit.

The poet must spend himself with warmth, glamour and prodigality to increase the enthusiastic fervor of the primordial elements.

Beauty exists only in struggle. There is no masterpiece that has not an aggressive character. Poetry must be a violent assault on the forces of the unknown, to force them to bow before man.

We are on the extreme promontory of the centuries! What is the use of looking behind at the moment when we must open the mysterious shutters of the impossible? Time and Space died yesterday. We are already living in the absolute, since we have already created eternal, omnipresent speed.

We want to glorify war — the only cure for the world — militarism, patriotism, the destructive gesture of the anarchists, the beautiful ideas which kill, and contempt for woman.

We want to demolish museums and libraries, fight morality, feminism and all opportunist and utilitarian cowardice.

We will sing of the great crowds agitated by work, pleasure and revolt; the multi-colored and polyphonic surf of revolutions in modern capitals: the nocturnal vibration of the arsenals and the workshops beneath their violent electric moons: the gluttonous railway stations devouring smoking serpents; factories suspended from the clouds by the thread of their smoke; bridges with the leap of gymnasts flung across the diabolic cutlery of sunny rivers: adventurous steamers sniffing the horizon; great-breasted locomotives, puffing on the rails like enormous steel horses with long tubes for bridle, and the gliding flight of aeroplanes whose propeller sounds like the flapping of a flag and the applause of enthusiastic crowds

We have been up all night, my friends and I, beneath mosque lamps whose brass cupolas are bright as our souls, because like them they were illuminated by the internal glow of electric hearts. And trampling underfoot our native sloth on opulent Persian carpets, we have been discussing right up to the limits of logic and scrawling the paper with demented writing.

Our hearts were filled with an immense pride at feeling ourselves standing quite alone, like lighthouses or like the sentinels in an outpost, facing the army of enemy stars encamped in their celestial bivouacs. Alone with the engineers in the infernal stokeholes of great ships, alone with the black spirits which rage in the belly of rogue locomotives, alone with the drunkards beating their wings against the walls.

Then we were suddenly distracted by the rumbling of huge double decker trams that went leaping by, streaked with light like the villages celebrating their festivals, which the Po in flood suddenly knocks down and uproots, and, in the rapids and eddies of a deluge, drags down to the sea.

Then the silence increased. As we listened to the last faint prayer of the old canal and the crumbling of the bones of the moribund palaces with their green growth of beard, suddenly the hungry automobiles roared beneath our windows.

"Come, my friends!" I said. "Let us go! At last Mythology and the mystic cult of the ideal have been left behind. We are going to be present at the birth of the centaur and we shall soon see the first angels fly! We must break down the gates of life to test the bolts and the padlocks! Let us go! Here is they very first sunrise on earth! Nothing equals the splendor of its red sword which strikes for the first time in our millennial darkness."

We went up to the three snorting machines to caress their breasts. I lay along mine like a corpse on its bier, but I suddenly revived again beneath the steering wheel — a guillotine knife — which threatened my stomach. A great sweep of madness brought us sharply back to ourselves and drove us through the streets, steep and deep, like dried up torrents. Here and there unhappy lamps in the windows taught us to despise our mathematical eyes. "Smell," I exclaimed, "smell is good enough for wild beasts!"

And we hunted, like young lions, death with its black fur dappled with pale crosses, who ran before us in the vast violet sky, palpable and living.

And yet we had no ideal Mistress stretching her form up to the clouds, nor yet a cruel Queen to whom to offer our corpses twisted into the shape of Byzantine rings! No reason to die unless it is the desire to be rid of the too great weight of our courage!

We drove on, crushing beneath our burning wheels, like shirt-collars under the iron, the watch dogs on the steps of the houses.

Death, tamed, went in front of me at each corner offering me his hand nicely, and sometimes lay on the ground with a noise of creaking jaws giving me velvet glances from the bottom of puddles.

"Let us leave good sense behind like a hideous husk and let us hurl ourselves, like fruit spiced with pride, into the immense mouth and breast of the world! Let us feed the unknown, not from despair, but simply to enrich the unfathomable reservoirs of the Absurd!"

As soon as I had said these words, I turned sharply back on my tracks with the mad intoxication of puppies biting their tails, and suddenly there were two cyclists disapproving of me and tottering in front of me like two persuasive but contradictory reasons. Their stupid swaying got in my way. What a bore! Pouah! I stopped short, and in disgust hurled myself — vlan! — head over heels in a ditch.

Oh, maternal ditch, half full of muddy water! A factory gutter! I savored a mouthful of strengthening muck which recalled the black teat of my Sudanese nurse!

As I raised my body, mud-spattered and smelly, I felt the red hot poker of joy deliciously pierce my heart. A crowd of fishermen and gouty naturalists crowded terrified around this marvel. With patient and tentative care they raised high enormous grappling irons to fish up my car, like a vast shark that had run aground. It rose slowly leaving in the ditch, like scales, its heavy coachwork of good sense and its upholstery of comfort.

We thought it was dead, my good shark, but I woke it with a single caress of its powerful back, and it was revived running as fast as it could on its fins.

Then with my face covered in good factory mud, covered with metal scratches, useless sweat and celestial grime, amidst the complaint of staid fishermen and angry naturalists, we dictated our first will and testament to all the living men on earth.

It is in Italy that we are issuing this manifesto of ruinous and incendiary violence, by which we today are founding Futurism, because we want to deliver Italy from its gangrene of professors, archaeologists, tourist guides and antiquaries.

Italy has been too long the great second-hand market. We want to get rid of the innumerable museums which cover it with innumerable cemeteries.

Museums, cemeteries! Truly identical in their sinister juxtaposition of bodies that do not know each other. Public dormitories where you sleep side by side for ever with beings you hate or do not know. Reciprocal ferocity of the painters and sculptors who murder each other in the same museum with blows of line and color. To make a visit once a year, as one goes to see the graves of our dead once a year, that we could allow! We can even imagine placing flowers once a year at the feet of the Gioconda! But to take our sadness, our fragile courage and our anxiety to the museum every day, that we cannot admit! Do you want to poison yourselves? Do you want to rot?

What can you find in an old picture except the painful contortions of the artist trying to break uncrossable barriers which obstruct the full expression of his dream?

To admire an old picture is to pour our sensibility into a funeral urn instead of casting it forward with violent spurts of creation and action. Do you want to waste the best part of your strength in a useless admiration of the past, from which you will emerge exhausted, diminished, trampled on?

Indeed daily visits to museums, libraries and academies (those cemeteries of wasted effort, calvaries of crucified dreams, registers of false starts!) is for artists what prolonged supervision by the parents is for intelligent young men, drunk with their own talent and ambition.

For the dying, for invalids and for prisoners it may be all right. It is, perhaps, some sort of balm for their wounds, the admirable past, at a moment when the future is denied them. But we will have none of it, we, the young, strong and living Futurists!

Let the good incendiaries with charred fingers come! Here they are! Heap up the fire to the shelves of the libraries! Divert the canals to flood the cellars of the museums! Let the glorious canvases swim ashore! Take the picks and hammers! Undermine the foundation of venerable towns!

The oldest among us are not yet thirty years old: we have therefore at least ten years to accomplish our task. When we are forty let younger and stronger men than we throw us in the waste paper basket like useless manuscripts! They will come against us from afar, leaping on the light cadence of their first poems, clutching the air with their predatory fingers and sniffing at the gates of the academies the good scent of our decaying spirits, already promised to the catacombs of the libraries.

But we shall not be there. They will find us at last one winter's night in the depths of the country in a sad hangar echoing with the notes of the monotonous rain, crouched near our trembling aeroplanes, warming our hands at the wretched fire which our books of today will make when they flame gaily beneath the glittering flight of their pictures.

They will crowd around us, panting with anguish and disappointment, and exasperated by our proud indefatigable courage, will hurl themselves forward to kill us, with all the more hatred as their hearts will be drunk with love and admiration for us. And strong healthy Injustice will shine radiantly from their eyes. For art can only be violence, cruelty, injustice.

The oldest among us are not yet thirty, and yet we have already wasted treasures, treasures of strength, love, courage and keen will, hastily, deliriously, without thinking, with all our might, till we are out of breath.

Look at us! We are not out of breath, our hearts are not in the least tired. For they are nourished by fire, hatred and speed! Does this surprise you? it is because you do not even remember being alive! Standing on the world's summit, we launch once more our challenge to the stars!

Your objections? All right! I know them! Of course! We know just what our beautiful false intelligence affirms: "We are only the sum and the prolongation of our ancestors," it says. Perhaps! All right! What does it matter? But we will not listen! Take care not to repeat those infamous words! Instead, lift up your head!

Standing on the world's summit we launch once again our insolent challenge to the stars!

#futurist manifesto #italian art #manifesto #italian futurism #filippo marinetti #art #futurism #filippo tommaso marinetti #mu art #mu

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rockislandadultreads · 3 years

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Some Titles to Celebrate the Last Day of Women’s History Month

Visionary Women: How Rachel Carson, Jane Jacobs, Jane Goodall, and Alice Waters Changed Our World by Andrea Barnet

This is the story of four visionaries who profoundly shaped the world we live in today. Together, these women—linked not by friendship or field, but by their choice to break with convention—showed what one person speaking truth to power can do. Jane Jacobs fought for livable cities and strong communities; Rachel Carson warned us about poisoning the environment; Jane Goodall demonstrated the indelible kinship between humans and animals; and Alice Waters urged us to reconsider what and how we eat. With a keen eye for historical detail, Andrea Barnet traces the arc of each woman’s career and explores how their work collectively changed the course of history. While they hailed from different generations, Carson, Jacobs, Goodall, and Waters found their voices in the early sixties. At a time of enormous upheaval, all four stood as bulwarks against 1950s corporate culture and its war on nature. Consummate outsiders, each prevailed against powerful and mostly male adversaries while also anticipating the disaffections of the emerging counterculture. All told, their efforts ignited a transformative progressive movement while offering people a new way to think about the world and a more positive way of living in it.

In Praise of Difficult Women: Life Lessons From 29 Heroines Who Dared to Break the Rules by Karen Karbo

Smart, sassy, and unapologetically feminine, this elegantly illustrated book is an ode to the bold and charismatic women of modern history. Best-selling author Karen Karbo (The Gospel According to Coco Chanel) spotlights the spirited rule breakers who charted their way with little regard for expectations: Amelia Earhart, Helen Gurley Brown, Edie Sedgwick, Hillary Clinton, Amy Poehler, and Shonda Rhimes, among others. Their lives--imperfect, elegant, messy, glorious--provide inspiration and instruction for the new age of feminism we have entered. Karbo distills these lessons with wit and humor, examining the universal themes that connect us to each of these mesmerizing personalities today: success and style, love and authenticity, daring and courage. Being "difficult," Karbo reveals, might not make life easier. But it can make it more fulfilling--whatever that means for you.

Women Heroes of World War II: 26 Stories of Espionage, Sabotage, Resistance, and Rescue by Kathryn J. Atwood

Noor Inayat Khan was the first female radio operator sent into occupied France and transferred crucial messages. Johtje Vos, a Dutch housewife, hid Jews in her home and repeatedly outsmarted the Gestapo. Law student Hannie Schaft became involved in the most dangerous resistance work--sabotage, weapons transference, and assassinations. In these pages, young readers will meet these and many other similarly courageous women and girls who risked their lives to help defeat the Nazis. Twenty-six engaging and suspense-filled stories unfold from across Germany, Poland, the Netherlands, France, Belgium, Denmark, Great Britain, and the United States, providing an inspiring reminder of women and girls’ refusal to sit on the sidelines around the world and throughout history. An overview of World War II and summaries of each country’s entrance and involvement in the war provide a framework for better understanding each woman’s unique circumstances, and resources for further learning follow each profile. Women Heroes of World War II is an invaluable addition to any student’s or history buff’s bookshelf.

Glory, Passion, and Principle: The Story of Eight Remarkable Women at the Core of the American Revolution by Melissa Lukeman Bohrer

The heroism of the females of the American Revolution has gone from memory with the generation that witnessed it, and nothing, absolutely nothing, remains upon the ear of the young of the present day. -- Charles Francis Adams

John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin -- these are the names we typically associate with the American Revolution. But was American History solely written by men? Were there no influential women? No women who had an impact on the founding of America in its crucial, formative years, in its fight for independence? Indeed, there were -- although their contributions have been overlooked or ignored for over two hundred years. Until now. Glory, Passion, and Principle is an extraordinary journey through revolutionary America as seen from a woman's perspective. Here are the lesser-known stories of eight influential females who fought for freedom -- for their country and themselves -- at all costs. Whether advising prominent male leaders in political theory (Abigail Adams), using their pens as swords (Phillis Wheatley, Mercy Otis Warren), acting as military spies (Sybil Ludington, Lydia Darragh), or going to battle (Molly Pitcher, Deborah Sampson, Nancy Ward), these women broke free of the limitations imposed upon them, much as our forefathers did by resisting British rule upon American soil...and laying the groundwork for the United States as we know it today.

#nonfiction #non-fiction #non fiction #nonfiction books #adult books #womens history month #womens history #to read #tbr #booklr #reading recommendations #book recs #recommended reading #book list #reading list #library #history #history of women #badass women

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brooklynmuseum · 5 years

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A Call for Cultural Courage

Dear Friends,

On opening night of the TED2017 conference, just before headliner Pope Francis took the spotlight, artist Titus Kaphar walked to center stage declaring, "I love museums." Standing in front of a large-scale replica of Dutch master Frans Hals’s seventeenth-century painting entitled Family Group in a Landscape, which depicts a European family and a Black servant set against a country landscape, Kaphar began his talk with a story. It went like this: While Kaphar and his two young sons were on an outing to the American Museum of Natural History, the boys were confronted with the 1939 Equestrian Statue of Theodore Roosevelt outside the museum’s entrance. The sculpture depicts Roosevelt on a horse flanked by two men, one Native American and one of African descent. The boys questioned why one man got to ride the horse while the others had to walk. To the children, this seemed unfair. For Kaphar, it was a seminal moment that stopped him in his tracks—the question reminded him of the portrayals of white-dominated hierarchies that pervade our culture.

Kaphar then posed a question for the TED2017 audience: “Can art amend history?” As he asked the question, he dipped a wide household paintbrush in white paint and began to cover his own painting until all the figures, except the young Black boy in the background, were obscured. The audience collectively gasped as Kaphar forced them to consider the focus of their gaze—and whose histories are seen or made invisible. Kaphar concluded his talk by sharing his desire to create art that "wrestles with the struggles of our past" and, in the process, models how art can contribute to shaping history.

If artists and art can wrestle with the past and amend history, so too can museums. And we must. Museums like the Brooklyn Museum were founded on the fundamental belief that the sharing of world cultures would lead to greater understanding and empathy, thereby advancing civilization. Many of us in the museum field still value this glorious ideal. However, we recognize that museums have also privileged Western white narratives while often diminishing the histories of others. This is important to understand because, for better or worse, museums contribute to the narratives that shape our society, and our society is in great need of more empathy and respect.

At this time of social unrest, people around the globe are using protest to call upon their museums to do better. We can debate the accuracy of information and the effectiveness of the strategy, but like it or not, we shouldn't be surprised by protest. As the President of the Ford Foundation, Darren Walker, recently shared museums are in crisis because America is in crisis. In his recent op-ed in The New York Times, Walker urged museums to do better. Why? Because museums are fundamental pillars of our American democracy and among the few truly public spaces for people to come together, learn, share ideas, and debate; because art has the capacity to inspire empathy; and because people count on museums to confront difficult and important issues with understanding and respect.

So how are we at the Brooklyn Museum striving to do better?

Lots of ways. First, doing better means understanding that the stories we tell matter. We have therefore made it an institutional priority to present special exhibitions that shine a spotlight on cultural histories that have long been suppressed. For example, we have highlighted issues of systemic racism and have drawn attention to important African American and Latinx artists with exhibitions such as We Wanted a Revolution: Black Radical Women, 1965–85 (2017), The Legacy of Lynching: Confronting Racial Terror in America (2017), Soul of a Nation: Art in the Age of Black Power (2018), and Radical Women: Latin American Art, 1960–1985 (2018). We have looked at issues of gender equity across time in A Woman’s Afterlife: Gender Transformation in Ancient Egypt (ongoing) and Roots of “The Dinner Party”: History in the Making (2017). With David Bowie is (2018), we examined the artist’s liberating embrace of gender and sexual orientation. And with our current exhibition Nobody Promised You Tomorrow: Art 50 Years After Stonewall, we have taken a contemporary look at LGBTQ+ issues. In Frida Kahlo: Appearances Can Be Deceiving (2019), we focused on disability and its impact on the artist’s identity and practice.

In addition to our special exhibitions, we present works from our historical collections in context and in mutual dialogue with the communities they come from. In 2016, we reinstalled our American Art galleries to celebrate our nation’s rich history of immigration. And earlier this year, in the collection installation One: Egúngún, a masterwork from our Arts of Africa collection was displayed alongside extensive new research by the curator of the presentation, who consulted with Yorùbá communities in both Brooklyn and Nigeria to better contextualize the object’s meanings and origins. When possible, we also connect our exhibitions and collection installations to civic organizations devoted to advancing positive societal change that impacts our communities, for example, by partnering with organizations that combat mass incarceration and support the rights of immigrants.

Doing better means becoming Brooklyn’s largest arts classroom by supporting the education of our youth, especially those in our most under-resourced communities. For example, thanks to a grant from the Kenan Foundation, we have partnered with some of Brooklyn’s most financially challenged schools to provide in-school art classes where there were none. Our education programs are also expanding the number of young people who visit the Museum every year with their schools, caregivers, and camps. We have grown our programming for teens, especially LGBTQ+ teens and teens of color. And doing better means supporting creative learning with teacher training and resources to bring the Museum into school classrooms throughout the City.

Doing better means challenging the historical insularity of museums by broadening partnerships with our communities to provide services that are relevant and that have an impact. Today, the Brooklyn Museum works with hundreds of community organizations each year. We invite local artists, artisans, and community service organizations into the Museum to connect with our hundreds of thousands of annual visitors through public programs, workshops, and other events. We host public school graduations, serve as an election polling site, support funding drives for communities that have suffered from natural disasters, and lend our space to local organizations for meetings. We seek the advice of community members on the presentation of specific exhibitions. For more than 50 years, over Labor Day weekend, we have hosted the City’s single largest celebration of Caribbean culture, organized in partnership with the West Indian American Day Carnival Association, in our parking lot and culminating in a magnificent parade that ends at our front plaza. You can expect more as we work to grow these commitments.

Doing better means being financially accessible to all, which means remaining affordable despite the very real challenges of funding a major non-profit cultural institution outside of Manhattan. We are proud to be one of the only major art museums in the City with suggested admission, making it possible for many of our audiences to visit our world-class collections for free. We are also proud that on the first Saturday of every month we offer free programming, musical performances, art classes, and other events from 5 to 11 pm, when the Museum is packed and buzzing with thousands of excited visitors.

Doing better also means looking at ourselves and our operations with the goal of advancing our longstanding institutional commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion among our ranks. Through the guidance of our new DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) Plan we are working to recruit more staff from communities historically underrepresented in museums, including disabled, gender-nonconforming, and transgender people; people of color; and those from varied socioeconomic backgrounds. Thanks to Citibank, we actively support pipelines for jobs in our field by partnering with colleges and universities with diverse student bodies (such as CUNY and HBCUs) to recruit interns. Doing better means working toward greater wage transparency and fairness. And it means continuing our efforts to cultivate diversity on our Board in terms of race, gender, disability, socioeconomic status, and professional background—from artists and scholars to community members and business leaders—who share a passion for our mission. We don’t have all the answers, and our work is not without contradictions, but we push ahead as we always have, because our work matters.

Art—and museums—can amend history. And at such a pivotal moment, shouldn’t that be a priority? Indeed, it’s a priority for us at the Brooklyn Museum. So, today Kaphar’s painting is displayed in the very first gallery of the Brooklyn Museum, setting the tone for our audience's journey as we consider who creates historical narratives and how those narratives serve us. It’s a reminder that great cultural institutions must do their best to contribute to a more equitable and empathetic world.

Anne Pasternak Shelby White and Leon Levy Director Brooklyn Museum

Barbara M. Vogelstein Chairman, Board of Trustees Brooklyn Museum

#anne pasternak #brooklyn museum #director's letter #brooklyn #cultural change #museums #community #change #titus kaphar #equity #accessibility #cultural institutions #empathetic #society #history #art

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siliquasquama · 4 years

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Step back from the beach a moment

I don't celebrate on Memorial Day.

Remember, yes -- that is the point.

Commemorate, if you prefer, though that implies some manner of ritual, or some form of public ceremony, held at a slight remove from emotion, as the crowd along a parade route is both at a remove from the parade and part of it.

But to celebrate, to call it a day of relaxation or take it as a day of revelry --

I stopped doing that after I heard a particular song, in a particular movie. The movie itself is The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. Wherein the effort to find a Union soldier's grave, supposedly full of gold, is shown to be rather petty in comparison to the war itself -- which is presented primarily as a tragedy. A useless battle over a little bridge in a bleak corner of the West; a field of shallow graves marked by crude crosses; a stockade for prisoners of war, where weeping men are made to kneel in the dirt and sing a pretty song to drown out the cries from men being tortured --

You would think that the officer who chose the song would pick something less critical of the war, but who knows what he was thinking? As for the director, one might say he chose the song to distill the movie's message. As the final verse goes:

Count all the crosses, and count all the tears -- These are the losses, and sad souvenirs. This devestation once was a nation -- So fall the dice. How high is the price we pay?

After I heard that song my Memorial Days became rather grim.

I am always a little conflicted about the song. I know the political tendency of Americans -- especially white Americans -- is to elide the cause of our civil war, and elude the full implications. The decades after the war would not be the last time that reconciling white Americans meant leaving black Americans out in the cold, open and vulnerable to the people who would never stop trying to subjugate them.

Tempting to say both sides were right, and both sides were wrong, so as to bury the hatchet --

And yet: those who would subjugate black Americans dig the hatchet up whenever they think any government is trying to stop them. Be it in the decades after our civil war, or the decades after the second World War, or the decades after the country chose a black man to lead us towards a gentler peace and greater justice -- they do not forgive any movement towards the true power and freedom of black Americans, except by the acquiscence of the country to their predation, for any move towards freedom is a move away from what they have built, and threatens their coffers. As their coffers were filled by slavery, so they seek to maintain it, in one form or another.

Thus the old song from slaves long ago remains relevant, and its hope is ever present:

Oh Mary, don't you weep, don't you mourn, Oh Mary, don't you weep, don't you mourn. Pharaoh's army got drownded. Oh, Mary, don't you weep.

Did they? 

I do not know.

So, when I hear the soldier's lament, I wonder if it was made to elude that question. Perhaps it is that the director, being Italian, at a far remove from this continent and its ways, only saw the war as it was described to him, and thus saw it as the hatchet-burying narrative would have it, and so in his movie made no judgment nor mention of why the war began, nor what cause stood at its center by the end.

Or it could be that the lyricist, being not Ennio Morricone but a white American man, may have written the lyrics to paper over that question, and the compoaser and director alike looked at it without considering it too thoroughly.

Which would assume signores Leone and Morricone would ever dare do sloppy work.

Most likely it is that, if the movie is presented as tragedy, Leone couldn't introduce any of the concepts that have led Americans to call the American Civil War a glorious struggle of freedom. No John Brown's Body nor grapes of wrath for him. In the battle for the bridge, Captain Clinton sees his job as pointless, and that's the story the movie tells. No sense muddling the message by talking about glory. Even if the southwest did have its own battles for freedom, separate from the question of slavery, which could have been shown in the background.

For, if I speak of freedom only in terms of black Americans, I forget the peoples who were also targeted for predation by white Americans, whose resistance to them began long before slavery was planted here, whose story always complicates the simple narrative of White versus Black --

And as I speak of many peoples to think of them as a whole is complicated, if not impossible, for one tribe does not speak for another nor decide the same as the other. Over the centuries of struggle each tribe had interests separate from and sometimes against their neighbors, such as the people of pale faces could exploit to divide and conquer them.

In the case of the Civil War there were more such tribes who allied with the Confederate forces than with the Union. As it was in the rebellion that established the United States, as it was in the War of 1812, which was, in North America, sought by paleface warhawks as a battle against Indians -- in each such war that threatens the existence of the Federal Government of the United States, the victory and continued survival of that government has been the loss of many tribes and the deaths of their people.

I wish they had not sided with the British Empire, nor with the Confederate slave-holders, yet I understand why they did, for so many of the people we call American heroes were also villainous towards native tribes -- George Washington and Abraham Lincoln alike. The hope of those tribes was the scattering of the forces set against them and in the Revolutionary War, at least, it was not a hopeless effort, nor would it have looked hopeless to them in 1812 nor 1860. For the sake of those people I will not sing patriotic songs, nor wave the flag, nor call the American Revolution nor the American Civil War an untarnished good.

Nor any war. Hard to see blood spilled out on the ground, be it for the best of causes. Blood spilled and bone scattered. Young rascals and old coots alike left as shells, empty as the casings spilled about them, and these days we send mostly the bright young ones to that end. Lao Tzu said a general must mourn their victories.

And there are many of us come from overseas who have seen their loved ones die before them, seen bodies scattered amid the rubble of what they thought would stand, as so many wars these days are civil wars fought in and over civil settings, thereby to flatten those settings -- how could I celebrate any war, in the face of such people? How could I say any war was for a good cause?

And yet -- Pharaoh's army got drownded. Hard to ignore that point.

And for the folks who fought for the life of their people against the federal government, and lost, I wonder if I would dare tell them that war could have no noble cause.

So if I consider Memorial Day as anything, it is a day to mourn victory. Never to forget its price nor what it purchased. Never to speak of that purchase as if it were for the petty game of nations. It is not for for them. It is for the living and the dead. One life given for another, or for many. Perhaps given freely. Perhaps a trade made by someone else far away. Therein lies the tragedy.

For his part, Sergio Leone did not let his movie side with the Union's political cause. If he sided with anyone, it was with the soldiers. The song is called "Story of a Soldier" and it shows the battles through a soldier's eyes. Smoke, cannons, flags in the distance too ruined to read, crosses and tears counted one by one.

The movie's main battle is, as I said, useless. Not from the perspective of whoever gave the orders, but certainly from the perspective of Captain Clinton. His men have to take the Branstone Bridge. If the Confederate forces also want it, then might as well blow the damn thing and leave, and he's desperate to try. But orders are to take the bridge. Maybe as a political favor, maybe to achieve a larger strategic goal. Either way thousands of people will die. That's why Captain Clinton reeks of alcohol. He couldn't handle the job any other way. So when two scruffy and disobedient recruits go and destroy the bridge after all, though it be for a selfish and petty goal, Captain Clinton's dying words are in gratitude. Thousands of people will live. That's what he cares about.

You would think the larger scale of taking that bridge would be more important! Politically, strategically, maybe. But for the life of each man involved -- not so much. They can't see that far. To them the small scale is what they know. And maybe it's more important anyway. The song is called "The Story of a Soldier." Maybe that's what the movie is actually about. And the two bandits are just a way of bringing us to the place where we see what became of him. Which one he is among thousands, that's harder to say. There's an Arch Stanton on one grave marker and 'unknown' on the other. We don't know anything about either man. The lives of both men were on the small scale, not big enough for anyone outside their little worlds to care.

But someone living on the big scale got a lot of people into a big mess, and war means spending a lot of the small scale for the sake of the big scale. Basically shovelling your world into the furnace bit by bit to keep the engine running. Sometimes it means you lose your peach orchard; sometimes it means the army needs your 500-year-old church bell for scrap metal. Hard to tell if it's worth it at the time. Or when you're laying flowers on a grave later.

But when you lay flowers on a grave, are you saying the war was worth it? Or is it an apology for letting a bad situation get out of hand? If you're going to lay your flower on the grave and say the war was worth it you had better include an apology because that's a hell of a lot smaller price to pay than what you're looking at.

Now as for why I post this today and not the 25th -- as I said, I don't celebrate on Memorial Day, and I don't much like the fact that it was moved from the 30th of May to the last monday in May to give people a 3-day weekend. That all feels a bit crass. Seems like it made it easy to forget why this holiday exists. Everyone takes a trip to funtown for the day.

Well, fine. I can't blame people for doing that if they don't remember why the holiday exists. We don't much emphasize the Civil War part of it anyway. Easy enough to forget when you turn a day of memory into a day for parades.

I'm not trying to spoil the day for you when you were looking for a rare chance to relax. Go and have fun.

Just let me stay here with the graves.

#memorial day #civil war #indian wars #sergio leone #the good the bad and the ugly #text

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thepatriotplace-blog · 4 years

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The Patriot Warrior Class

Its been awhile since I’ve posted on Tumblr. In fact I actually kind of forgot I had the account. I created this account a few years ago and I named it “the patriot place”. Pretty self explanatory.

Let me tell you about me. I am first and foremost a patriotic American. I have always called myself a patriot. I’ve been a libertarian party member for many years. I’ve voted in many POTUS general elections for the libertarian candidate (with the exception of 2x). I’ve always had a deep love for the US constitution have spoken out about the blatant corruption of the constitution that has been going on in America my whole life.

I also consider myself a warrior. Although I have never served in the military I was a police officer for 25 years and have since retired. My duties as a police officer included SWAT and emergency tactical medicine. I have been trained by the best warriors America has to offer.

Since the election of Donald Trump (who I didn’t vote for) I have seen the rapid decay of the Libertarian Party. It has become polluted with progressives, pedophiles and people suffering from Trump Derangement Syndrome. My interactions with the neo-libertarians has been sad. Justin Amash has completely flipped in my view and I align more with Rand Paul than I do with Ron Paul. Jo Jorgesen who is the Libertarian’s Party POTUS candidate is and her public support of a Marxist organization was the last straw for me. I am no longer a member of the libertarian party.

I now consider myself a member of the patriot warrior class. I am prepared to fight and die for the Republic and its constitution. I took an oath to uphold the constitution of the United States and that doesn’t end when there is (Ret.) at the end of my name. There are many like me. Men and women who served and are currently serving to protect our Republic who believe in what I believe in are what will save this country from the Marxist insurrection, which is back politically by the Democrat Party and financed by the CCP and George Soros that is taking place within the US’s borders.

The neo-libertarians wont fight for the Republic. They are feckless and nothing more than internet bottle throwers and trolls. Their mentality is the same as the progressives, ‘Burn it down at all costs to get Trump out.”

The single most important event that turned the page in this chapter in my life had to be Trump’s speech at the National Archives Museum on Constitution Day. I have never heard a politician since Reagan deliver a speech more patriotic than this speech. I’ve included the transcript of that speech. So I will end this post with this.... In 2020 I will vote Vote Trump.

THE PRESIDENT: Thank you very much. Thank you, Mike. A great Vice President. I am truly honored to be here at the very first White House Conference on American History. So important.

Our mission is to defend the legacy of America’s founding, the virtue of America’s heroes, and the nobility of the American character. We must clear away the twisted web of lies in our schools and classrooms, and teach our children the magnificent truth about our country. We want our sons and daughters to know that they are the citizens of the most exceptional nation in the history of the world. (Applause.)

To grow up in America is to live in a land where anything is possible, where anyone can rise, and where any dream can come true — all because of the immortal principles our nation’s founders inscribed nearly two and a half centuries ago.

That’s why we have come to the National Archives, the sacred home of our national memory. In this great chamber, we preserve our glorious inheritance: the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights.

On this very day in 1787, our Founding Fathers signed the Constitution at Independence Hall in Philadelphia. It was the fulfillment of a thousand years of Western civilization. Our Constitution was the product of centuries of tradition, wisdom, and experience. No political document has done more to advance the human condition or propel the engine of progress.

Yet, as we gather this afternoon, a radical movement is attempting to demolish this treasured and precious inheritance. We can’t let that happen. (Applause.) Left-wing mobs have torn down statues of our founders, desecrated our memorials, and carried out a campaign of violence and anarchy. Far-left demonstrators have chanted the words “America was never great.” The left has launched a vicious and violent assault on law enforcement — the universal symbol of the rule of law in America. These radicals have been aided and abetted by liberal politicians, establishment media, and even large corporations.

Whether it is the mob on the street, or the cancel culture in the boardroom, the goal is the same: to silence dissent, to scare you out of speaking the truth, and to bully Americans into abandoning their values, their heritage, and their very way of life.

We are here today to declare that we will never submit to tyranny. We will reclaim our history and our country for citizens of every race, color, religion, and creed.

The radicals burning American flags want to burn down the principles enshrined in our founding documents, including the bedrock principle of equal justice under law. In order to radically transform America, they must first cause Americans to lose confidence in who we are, where we came from, and what we believe. As I said at Mount Rushmore — which they would love to rip down and it rip it down fast, and that’s never going to happen — two months ago, the left-wing cultural revolution is designed to overthrow the American Revolution.

As many of you testified today, the left-wing rioting and mayhem are the direct result of decades of left-wing indoctrination in our schools. It’s gone on far too long. Our children are instructed from propaganda tracts, like those of Howard Zinn, that try to make students ashamed of their own history.

The left has warped, distorted, and defiled the American story with deceptions, falsehoods, and lies. There is no better example than the New York Times’ totally discredited 1619 Project. This project rewrites American history to teach our children that we were founded on the principle of oppression, not freedom.

Nothing could be further from the truth. America’s founding set in motion the unstoppable chain of events that abolished slavery, secured civil rights, defeated communism and fascism, and built the most fair, equal, and prosperous nation in human history. (Applause.)

The narratives about America being pushed by the far-left and being chanted in the streets bear a striking resemblance to the anti-American propaganda of our adversaries — because both groups want to see America weakened, derided, and totally diminished.

Students in our universities are inundated with critical race theory. This is a Marxist doctrine holding that America is a wicked and racist nation, that even young children are complicit in oppression, and that our entire society must be radically transformed. Critical race theory is being forced into our children’s schools, it’s being imposed into workplace trainings, and it’s being deployed to rip apart friends, neighbors, and families.

A perfect example of critical race theory was recently published by the Smithsonian Institution. This document alleged that concepts such as hard work, rational thinking, the nuclear family, and belief in God were not values that unite all Americans, but were instead aspects of “whiteness.” This is offensive and outrageous to Americans of every ethnicity, and it is especially harmful to children of minority backgrounds who should be uplifted, not disparaged.

Teaching this horrible doctrine to our children is a form of child abuse in the truest sense of those words. For many years now, the radicals have mistaken Americans’ silence for weakness. But they’re wrong.

There is no more powerful force than a parent’s love for their children. And patriotic moms and dads are going to demand that their children are no longer fed hateful lies about this country. American parents are not going to accept indoctrination in our schools, cancel culture at our work, or the repression of traditional faith, culture, and values in the public square. Not anymore. (Applause.) Thank you. Thank you. Thank you very much.

We embrace the vision of Martin Luther King, where children are not judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

The left is attempting to destroy that beautiful vision and divide Americans by race in the service of political power. By viewing every issue through the lens of race, they want to impose a new segregation, and we must not allow that to happen.

Critical race theory, the 1619 Project, and the crusade against American history is toxic propaganda, ideological poison that, if not removed, will dissolve the civic bonds that tie us together. It will destroy our country.

That is why I recently banned trainings in this prejudiced ideology from the federal government and banned it in the strongest manner possible. (Applause.)

The only path to national unity is through our shared identity as Americans. That is why it is so urgent that we finally restore patriotic education to our schools.

Under our leadership, the National Endowment for the Humanities has awarded a grant to support the development of a pro-American curriculum that celebrates the truth about our nation’s great history. (Applause.)

We are joined by some of the respected scholars involved in this project, including Professor Wilfred McClay. Wilfred, please. Thank you very much. Welcome. (Applause.) Thank you. Dr. Peter Wood of the National Association of Scholars. Dr. Peter. (Applause.) Thank you. Thank you. And Ted Rebarber. Thank you, Ted. (Applause.) Thank you very much, Ted.

Today, I am also pleased to announce that I will soon sign an Executive Order establishing a national commission to promote patriotic education. It will be called the “1776 Commission.” (Applause.) Thank you. Thank you. It will encourage our educators to teach our children about the miracle of American history and make plans to honor the 250th anniversary of our founding. Think of that — 250 years.

Recently, I also signed an executive order to establish the National Garden of American Heroes, a vast outdoor park that will feature the statues of the greatest Americans who have ever lived.

Today, I am announcing a new name for inclusion. One of the 56 signers of the Declaration of Independence was a patriot from Delaware. In July of 1776, the Continental Congress was deadlocked during the debate over independence. The delegation from Delaware was divided. Caesar Rodney was called upon to break the tie.

Even though he was suffering from very advanced cancer — he was deathly ill — Rodney rode 80 miles through the night, through a severe thunderstorm, from Dover to Philadelphia to cast his vote for independence.

For nearly a century, a statue of one of Delaware’s most beloved citizens stood in Rodney Square, right in the heart of Wilmington.

But this past June, Caesar Rodney’s statue was ordered removed by the mayor and local politicians as part of a radical purge of America’s founding generation.

Today, because of an order I signed, if you demolish a statue without permission, you immediately get 10 years in prison. (Applause.) And there have been no statues demolished for the last four months, incredibly, since the time I signed that act.

Joe Biden said nothing as to his home state’s history and the fact that it was dismantled and dismembered. And a Founding Father’s statue was removed.

Today, America will give this Founding Father, this very brave man, who was so horribly treated, the place of honor he deserves. I am announcing that a statue of Caesar Rodney will be added to the National Garden of American Heroes. (Applause.)

From Washington to Lincoln, from Jefferson to King, America has been home to some of the most incredible people who have ever lived. With the help of everyone here today, the legacy of 1776 will never be erased. Our heroes will never be forgotten. Our youth will be taught to love America with all of their heart and all of their soul.

We will save this cherished inheritance for our children, for their children, and for every generation to come. This is a very important day.

Thank you all once again for being here. Now I will sign the Constitution Day Proclamation. God Bless You. And God Bless America. Thank you very much.

#trump #nationalarchives #libertarian #liberty #freedom #trump2020 #potus45 #potustrump

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theladylovingcrow · 4 years

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My Love, My Darling (Jimbert Fluff)

Author (As known on Various sites): Lady Lover- Rockfic, Luluthechoosingcrow - AO3, theladylovingcrow - Deviantart and Wattpad, @sammy_bluebells - Instagram, @imacrowcawcaw - main Tumblr, @theladylovingcrow - writing/art Tumblr, @insannywestan - Sanny shipping Tumblr

Fandom: Led Zeppelin

Pairing: Jimmy Page/Robert Plant (Jimbert)

Length: about 1k

Warnings/tags: extreme fluff, winter themed cuteness, cuddling, overuse of endearments, established relationship, kissing, one slightly dirty joke, early led zep, anon request

Author's Notes: I am SO sorry, anon, that I didn't get to this in time for the holidays. I hope you'll accept a soft, fluffy, right after Christmas, winter-themed Jimbert fic instead.

@satans-helper idk who else wants to be tagged in LZ stuff but let me know

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"Darling, I'm home!"

Robert lowered his book and raised his eyebrows, expression faintly amused as his dearly beloved called out to him; his excited, erratic movements downstairs were practically audible in his voice.

"Upstairs, dear, reading."

Jimmy's heels could be heard steadily click-clacking up the stairway, and then he appeared in the doorway, looking on Robert with a childlike grin that changed to a more soft, affectionate smile. He stepped inside, corderoy flares blooming like spring tulips with each step as he approached his partner and obviously hid something behind his back, thin torso sheathed in Argyll wool barely concealing the width of the package.

"What are you reading, love? Is it warm enough in here for you?"

Robert smiled back at Jimmy, setting the book aside and rising from the armchair to stand level with him. He took a step forward and clasped a warm, large hand onto either of his partner's hips, dipping his head for a chaste but loving kiss in greeting.

"One of your books, darling, about the Glorious Revolution, I believe. And I am quite toasty, thank you for asking. I lit the fire earlier so the house should be heating up by now."

"Mmm, you're right, it is warm," Jimmy murmered, fisting the hem of his sweater in one hand while he kept the other hidden behind his back. "And I am glad to see you're enjoying my library."

"It's so extensive - I'm still astounded, sometimes, Jimmy dear, that you've managed to collect so many fascinating books already in your life."

Robert was palpably excited, turning around and walking with quick steps to a loaded bookshelf, running his fingers over the spines of his love's philosophy section.

"There is so much knowledge here, so much beauty. I am so happy to have come here with you, love."

He turned back to Jimmy, smiling and beckoning him with opened arms. Jimmy returned to his embrace, setting a paperbound parcel on his desk before wrapping himself around Robert's torso and resting his scruffed chin on his shoulder.

"Not as happy as I am to have you; it really means the world to me, Percy, that you agreed to come live with me," he murmered, pressing a few gentle kisses into Robert's neck where it was exposed by his white robe.

"It was more than an agreement, Jim. I love you, darling, forever, and I want to be with you until that golden sun sets for the last time upon our Earth, and then we will leave it together, too."

"Poetic, aren't you?" Jimmy laughed softly, pulling back to stare at Robert's kind blue eyes and smooth a hand over the lapel of his fluffy robe. "And well into a lazy day, I see."

"A cosy day, one I've prepared to share with my sweetheart," he corrected, guiding Jimmy to the arm chair and the steaming tea set resting upon its adjacent side table.

"Oh, yes, I do see," Jimmy grinned, taking the offered seat on Robert's lap, as well as the antique china teacup he had found at a small shop some months ago.

He let Robert pour them both a cup of golden brown tea and add a lump of sugar, and a splash of milk for Percy. They quietly sipped their drinks and openly gazed at each other, enjoying the quiet, intimate moment after a rather busy December spent performing, shopping, and celebrating with family and friends alike.

"Oh, you have jam tarts! Where did you get these, dear?" Jimmy asked, delighted, as he took a bite out of the offered pastry in between Robert's fingertips.

Robert chuckled at his enjoyment and brushed a few crumbs from Jimmy's lips, popping the rest of the treat into his own mouth. "I stopped by the bakery on my way back from Bonzo's a few days ago. They had just baked a whole heaping batch of these, and, since I know you love them, I bought a box."

"Mm, I do love them," Jimmy mumbled, half inaudible through the new pastry he had stuffed in his mouth. "Almost as much as I love you."

Robert cooed and blushed, giving Jimmy a long, jam flavored kiss. "You're in a delightful mood today! Would you care to tell me what's in that package of yours?"

"Why, dear, you are already very well acquainted with my package."

Robert rolled his eyes and squeezed Jimmy's arm, but they both laughed. After leaning against his golden, curly head for a minute, Jimmy sighed and got off of his perch, retrieving the wrapped bundle from his desk.

He brought it over to Robert and sat back down on his left knee, reclining against his chest to watch him open it.

"I thought Christmas was already passed, darling? You've gotten me plenty," Robert said, tearing open the paper, but then his breath caught in his throat.

A scarf woven from rich reds and vibrant purples started unfurling on his lap, no longer being held into a tight ball by the twine it had been wrapped in. Soft black fringe tickled Robert's fingers as he unfolded the garment, and shimmering lines of embroidered flowers and Celtic designs caught his eyes along one edge.

"Oh, Jimmy, this is beautiful! Wherever did you find it?" He gasped, stroking the silk with appreciative fingers.

"At a boutique along the docks. But, that's not all, keep unwrapping it."

Robert gave him an inquisitive look, but did as instructed and continued to peal open the fabric. He found a lightweight, yet sturdy object wrapped within the scarf, gleaming at him in all of its golden, carved, musical glory.

"A harp?"

"Mm, a lyre. You've been trying to learn guitar, and I'm not going to discourage you, but I think this might actually suit you better. We could figure out how to play it together, if you like, or you could ask Jonesy. He would be able to master it in minutes, I'm sure."

Robert grasped Jimmy's face in both of his hands, bestowing upon him a deep, loving kiss. Jimmy returned it with as much enthusiasm, running their lips and tongues together in an age-old dance that needed no musical accompaniment.

"I love it! This is perfect, sweetheart, absolutely perfect. I am so happy to have you."

"As am I," Jimmy sighed, setting the presents on the table next to the cooling teapot and settling back into Robert's body.

They watched the light snowfall out of the window. It was unusual for London to get much snow, but, that afternoon, it felt as if it fell just for them; a blanket of hopes, dreams, and endearments as pure as their love surrounding them in its wintery warmth.

#led zeppelin #jimmy page #robert plant #jimbert #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #lulucrowproductions #fluff #winter #kissing #cuddling #lz #led zeppelin fanfic

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