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murfpersonalblog · 5 years ago

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The 7 Greatest Heroes of Greek Mythology - Mythological Curiosities - See U in History

Heracles of Thebes

Achilles of Thessaly

Odysseus of Ithaca

Theseus of Athens

Perseus of Argos

Jason of Thessaly

Bellerophon of Corinth

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Cool video, but my Heroes list is very different. They’re all amazing, or they wouldn’t be heroes, but IMO the most impressive heroes are the ones who persevered despite a series of what would otherwise be insurmountable odds. Their greatness is not just due to their general popularity, but the greatness of the obstacles they overcame. You have to beat the best to be the best.

So my TOP TEN Greek Heroes list is:

Heracles of Thebes

Odysseus of Ithaca

Jason of Thessaly

Cadmus of Thebes

Perseus of Argos

Theseus of Athens

Diomedes of Argos

Honorable Mention: Bellerophon of Corinth

Honorable Mention: Achilles of Thessaly

Honorable Mention: Atalanta of Arcadia

1) HERACLES: because obviously. Son of Zeus, strongest man alive, he bested the 10 (or 12) Labors, plus his 9 Minor Labors, his numerous feats with the Argonauts, his critical role in winning the Gigantomachia on Mt Olympus, freeing Prometheus, rescuing Theseus, fathering a effton of babies, etc etc. He was literally worshiped as a god, one of the only Greek heroes to live on Mt. Olympus after his death. Even Hera had to back down and respect his gangsta. #Iconic #Legendary #YourFaveCouldNever

Hercules sets the bar for the 4/4 main criteria for what makes MY IDEAL top-tier Greek mythological hero:

Monsters: Defeating mythic creatures/beings on epic adventures

Underworld: Going to Hades and back

God-Tier: Divine patronage/assistance, lineage, apotheosis, etc

Legacy: Founding cities, dynasties, etc

2) ODYSSEUS: smartest Greek hero EVER, and biggest liar/trickster. Odysseus’ adventures were OP. Despite not even being a demigod, just a mortal man (blessed by Athena but cursed by Poseidon), he still survived the entire Trojan War, Scylla & Charybdis, the sirens, the Lotus Eaters, Polyphemus the Cyclops, Circe, the Laestrygonians, and numerous shipwrecks & storms; went to Hades and lived; got shapeshifted into an old man; and still reclaimed his place as king of Ithaca by taking out all of Penelope's suitors cuz he’s a #BAMF archer and warrior, too. Odysseus also has the 4th highest kill count in the Iliad (after Patroclus, Diomedes, and Achilles). It took 20 years, and he lost everything but his life & his wits, but he made it home. (4/4)

3) JASON: Leader of the Argonauts, the most boss collection of heroes ever -- Hercules, the Gemini Twins, Orpheus, Nestor, Pelops, Meleager, Theseus, Autolycus, Atalanta*, Peleus, etc. -- #SquadGoals. Their adventures together are literally the stuff of legend -- the Crashing Rocks, fought harpies, sirens, giants, fire-breathing bulls, Talos the automaton, AND the Colchis Dragon guarding the Golden Fleece (and an army of Spartoi, sown dragon-teeth -- see Cadmus). Jason survived it all, and his travels and feats were effing impressive, designed explicitly cuz King Pelias KNEW finding the Golden Fleece was 100% impossible -- but Jason beat the odds and did it anyway.

Jason was a mortal man, blessed by Hera, and husband of the sorceress Medea. #JusticeForMedea, Jason did her dirty, ditching her for some rando chick (Hera’s classic trigger). Hera renounced Jason cuz he broke his wedding vows to Medea, and Hera’s sacred stern on the Argo brained him to death (AKA: Eff your heroics, if you’re a scrub). One of his & Medea’s sons, Thessalus, managed to escape Medea's carnage, and Jason’s kingdom of Thessaly gets its name from him (or one of Heracles’ sons of the same name, depending on your source) . (3/4)

4) CADMUS: the very FIRST Greek hero, founder of Thebes, brother of Europa, defeater of the Ismenian Dragon, sower of the Spartoi (dragon teeth warriors), ancestor of Dionysus. I am super biased when it comes to dragons and dragon-slayers (Hercules, Jason, Cadmus). A mortal man from Phoenicia, Cadmus was blessed by Athena, favored by the other gods, but was cursed by Ares for killing the Ismenian Dragon (Ares son), and depending on the source was killed or turned into a snake, etc.

Jason benefited entirely from knowing what Cadmus did before with the Dragon and Spartoi. But I rank Jason higher than Cadmus, because although Cadmus killed a dragon first, and adventured before ALL of the other Greek heroes (Heracles included), he did relatively less than they did. Heroes (and their storytellers) were all trying to one-up the feats of the heroes that came before them, so Cadmus’ bar naturally lowers in light of that. But IMO I still see Cadmus as a more impressive hero than some others, because Cadmus set the bar for Heracles, Jason, Odysseus, everybody. Cadmus 👏 Did 👏 It 👏 FIRST.👏 (3/4)

5) PERSEUS: Son of Zeus and a mortal woman; slayer of Medusa the Gorgon and Cetus the Sea Monster; founder of the Myceneans; ancestor (and half-brother) of Hercules. Out of the pre-Heraclidean heroes (Cadmus, Perseus, Aeacus, Bellerophon, Pelops & Oenomaus, Oedipus) Perseus’ adventures were the scariest, IMO. The Graeae, the Gorgons, AND Cetus? Yikes. However, Perseus only managed to kill Medusa cuz she was asleep the whole time. All those depictions of him facing off against her in some thrilling battle? Pop culture fabrication -- it never happened, he crept up on her like a ninja. (#JusticeForMedusa) And thanks to the frikkin Renaissance, people think Perseus tamed Pegasus, which he never did either, that was Bellerophon vs the Chimera.

Still, he’s awesome. On top of his #Iconic armor set (sword, helm of invisibility & winged sandals), Perseus has a lot of similarities with Hermes (god of, amongst other things, thieves and liars), cuz his opponents were literally impossible for mortals to face otherwise. Perseus needed all of those sneaky wiles to steal the Graeae’s eye, and sneak past the other Gorgons, and nab Medusa, run off with her head without the other Gorgons tearing him to shreds, and make it back home. But he only managed to kill Cetus & rescue Andromeda & reclaim his birthright as King of Argos because he had Medusa’s head.

So...cool adventures, great story, sweetest god-tier gear EVER (#Deus ExMachinaRealness), and really impressive monsters. (3/4) (Perseus never went to Hades & back, but some sources interpret the Cave of the Gorgons, Graeae or both as a chthonic journey, too.)

6) THESEUS: Son of Poseidon and a mortal woman (his step-father’s King Aegeus, whom the Aegean Sea’s named after -- a really sad story that’s Theseus’ fault), Theseus is the founder of Athens & the Acropolis, and slayer of the Minotaur. (3/4) But I have to explain a few things:

Monsters: IMO beating the Minotaur is Theseus’ most impressive feat. That was a legit monster. Theseus also caught & sacrificed the Cretan/Marathonian Boar (sire of the Minotaur), and killed the man-eating Crommyonian Sow. But compared to Dragons & Gorgons (asleep or not), IMO I can’t rank Theseus’ defeat of the Minotaur over heroes who killed a lot more than that. According to Ovid, Theseus also slayed the Centaur King Eurytion, who started the Centauromachia vs the Lapiths, but AFAIK he’s the only one who says so. Theseus also went on many adventures, slaying bandits and pacifying barbarians in his 6 Labors, which established Theseus as an official Athenian folk hero well before his battle in the Labyrinth. But again, I’m can’t rank bandits over an army of draconic spartoi.

Hades: Theseus technically gets (4/4) on my criteria, but I deducted that point cuz he only hit it just barely. By the skin of his butt-cheeks. LITERALLY. Theseus’ jaunt to Hades was one of the BALLSIEST examples of hubris and straight up idiocy in all of Greek mythology, IMO. Theseus decided that being the wingman in his BFF Pirithous’ harebrained plan to kidnap Persephone for a bride was a good idea. O_O The only reason Theseus made it out alive (spoiler: Pirithous did not) is cuz Heracles RIPPED Theseus off his seat, allowing Hades to get his literal POUND OF FLESH from Theseus’ arse in appeasement. That was not heroic on Theseus’ part at all; he was crying like a baby the entire time, TRAPPED in Hades for MONTHS until HERACLES happened to go there to collect Cerberus. POINT DEDUCTED! #sorryboutit

7) DIOMEDES: Diomedes 👏 Gets 👏 NO 👏 Respect 👏 . Omg, where is the Hollywood blockbuster featuring MY BOY? Other than Heracles, name another Greek hero who fought against not one but TWO OLYMPIAN GODS and WON? O_O Diomedes, a mortal man, King of Argos and founder of several Italian cities, was a hero of the Trojan War. After Patroclus, Diomedes has the 2nd highest kill count in the Iliad. He managed to wound Aphrodite & her son Aeneas at Troy, AND left Ares -- THE God of WAR -- screaming & hollering like a toddler with a tantrum when Diomedes & Athena wounded him, making Ares retreat from the battlefield like a wuss. Ares, y’all. ARES. Diomedes didn’t KILL any gods, no, but he’s still thebomb.com.

Blessed by Athena, Diomedes was the 2nd most clever warrior after Odysseus, and after Achilles died, together they came up with the most iconic plots against the Trojans: creating the Trojan Horse, and stealing the Palladium. In antiquity Diomedes was venerated as a god as part of his hero cult, but his fame was later supplanted by Achilles & Odysseus, to the point that in today’s pop culture Diomedes is rarely ever mentioned. #UnderratedAF (3/4)

Honorable Mentions

8) BELLEROPHON: A mortal man, grandson of Sisyphus, Bellerophon was falsely accused of rape, and as punishment the king (the lying heifer’s father) sent Bellerophon to kill The Chimera (a 3-headed FIRE BREATHING monstrosity) to clear his name (knowing full well it was impossible). Blessed by Athena, Bellerophon was able to tame Pegasus (Medusa’s son by Poseidon’s rape), and reach the Chimera’s lair. He lathered himself in fire-proof oil, and stabbed the Chimera in the frikkin throat till it choked on the melted metal from his speartip.

Unfortunately, the king didn’t believe him, and sent Bellerophon on a series of labors to kill Amazons & pirates, which Bellerophon did, with Poseidon’s help. Unfortunately, his glory went to his frikkin head, and when Bellerophon tried to fly Pegasus up Mt Olympus Zeus struck him dead with lightning bolts for his hubris. (2/4)

9) ACHILLES: Achilles is THE greatest hero of the Trojan War, leader of the Myrmidons and Greece’s best warrior EVER. He had mad skills. But by my 4 Main Criteria, I can't rank him above the other heroes. Achilles is a great icon for warriors to aspire to, and in many ways is the most realistic hero of the bunch, IMO, but that’s just it. He did a lot of incredible things. But not impossible things. He’s too normal for me, compared to the rest. :\ (2/4)

Monsters: All the other heroes on my list faced off against gods, giants, the brood of Echidna & Typhon, unnatural beasts, etc. Achilles’ greatest foe is Hector, Troy’s greatest warrior, yes, but who is another mortal man. Achilles did defeat Amazons (like Penthesilea, daughter of Ares), but so did Bellerophon, on top of the Chimera. And as far as kill count goes, Patroclus killed the most people at Troy, while Achilles pouted in his tent! Diomedes killed a effton, as did Odysseus (who earned Achilles’ armor rather than Ajax), so.... Imma need some gods & monsters, Achilles. :\

Hades: When Achilles died he went to the nicest place in Hades, in the Isles of the Blessed/Elysian Fields. Not exactly the Greek Valhalla, since the gods don’t live in Elysion, but close. But several heroes ranked higher on my list came back from the Land of the Dead (I’ve seen some Heroes Lists put Orpheus, another Argonaut, in the Top 7 cuz of the Orphic Cult & having been to Hades and back). Achilles chose to fight at Troy and die young & heroically; but when Odysseus spoke to Achilles’ ghost in Hades he told Odysseus he regretted his decision. XD

Divinity/Assistance: Achilles is the son of the water nymph Thetis -- whose wedding to Achilles’ mortal dad started the Apple of Discord & Judgement of Paris which caused to the Trojan War -- so he’s not 100% human, but he’s not the son of an Olympian, either. Thetis had Hephaestus craft god-tier armor for Achilles, and made him invulnerable to further injury (sources vary on if he was lathered in ambrosia lotion; or dunked in the River Styx; or was slow-roasted on a magical fire). But Achilles was still mortal, as seen by that little ankle problem of his. So I wonder which demigod would win in a fight, Achilles, Perseus, or Theseus? (Hercules beats everybody, duh.) But I gave Achilles 1 point here.

Politico-Religious Legacy: Achilles’ son Neoptolemus founded Epirus, and the line Alexander the Great’s mother Olympias hails from, thus making Achilles Alexander’s ancestor (depending on who you believe). That’s dope. Another point. (2/4)

10) ATALANTA: AFAIK Atalanta’s the only non-Amazonian mortal warrior woman Hero in Greek myth (Cyrene & Callisto were nymphs). A mortal woman, Atalanta was abandoned in the woods at birth for being born female, and was nursed by a she-bear. A SHE-BEAR. In the WOODS, y’all. Atalanta was found by hunters who took her in, and grew up to be a fierce huntress. She took part in the Calydonian Boar Hunt, and was THE FIRST to actually wound it, while the other heroes were busy shaking in their sandals. She got to keep the pelt as her prize. Depending on your source, she did or didn’t join the Argonauts, or was only with them briefly. She also beat Achilles’ dad Peleus (another Argonaut) in a wrestling match. She also slew two Centaurs who tried to rape her. Atalanta was NOT to be trifled with. 👸

Thanks to the impiety of her husband (from Atalanta’s famous race with the Golden Apples; his name varies depending on the sources), both he and Atalanta were cursed by the gods (precisely which one varies by sources), turned into lions and slaughtered. #SMDH. (2/4)

#Greek Mythology #videos

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loretranscripts · 5 years ago

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Lore Episode 26: Brought Back (Transcript) - 25th January 2016

tw: racism, colonialism, live burial, slavery

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

No one wants to die. If the human design was scheduled for a revision, that’s one of the features that would get an overhaul. Our mortality has been an obsession since the dawn of humanity itself – humans long for ways to avoid death, or at least make it bearable. Some cultures have practically moved heaven and earth doing so. Thousands of years ago, the Egyptians built enormous stone structures in order to house their dead and ensure them a place in the afterlife. They perfected the art of embalming so that even after death, their bodies might be ready for a new existence in a new place. Death is a reality for all of us, whether we like it or not. Young or old, rich or poor, healthy or sick, life is one long journey down a road, and we walk until its over. Some think they see the light at the end of it all while others hope for darkness, and that’s where the mystery of it all comes in: no one knows what’s on the other side. We just know that the proverbial walk ends at some point, and maybe that’s why we spend so much time guessing at it, building story and myth and belief around this thing we can’t put our finger on. What would be easier, some say, is if we just didn’t die, if we somehow went on forever. It’s impossible, but we dream of it anyway. No one returns from the grave… do they? Most sane, well-adjusted people would say no, but stories exist that say otherwise, and these stories aren’t new. They’ve been around for thousands of years and span multiple cultures, and like their subject matter these stories simply refuse to die. One reason for that, as hard as it is to believe, is because some of those stories appear to be true. Depending on where you look, and who you ask, there are whispers of those who beat the odds. Sometimes the journey doesn’t end after all. Sometimes, the dead really do walk. I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

The quintessential zombie movie, the one that all the commentators say was responsible for putting zombies on the map nearly 50 years ago, was George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead. The creatures that Romero brought to the big screen managed to influence generations of film makers, giving us the iconic zombie that we see today in television shows like The Walking Dead. The trouble is, Romero never used the word “zombie” to describe the creatures from his landmark film. Instead, they were “ghouls”, a creature borrowed from Arabian folklore. According to the mythology, ghouls are demons who eat the dead and, because of that, are traditionally found in graveyards. But Romero’s ghouls were not the first undead creatures to hunger for the flesh and blood of the living. Some think that honour falls to the Odyssey, the epic Greek poem written by Homer nearly 3000 years ago. In the story, there’s a scene where Odysseus needs to get some information from a long-dead prophet named Tiresias. To give the spirit strength to speak, Odysseus feeds him blood. In a lot of ways, the creatures we think of today as zombies are similar to the European tales of the revenant. They’ve gone by many names – the ancient Irish called them Neamh-Mhairbh, meaning “the undead”; in Germany they are the Wiedergänger, “the ones who walk again”; and in Nordic mythology, they’re called the draugr. The name “revenant” itself is Latin and means “the returned”. The basic idea is pretty easy to guess from that – revenants were those who were once dead, but returned to haunt and terrorize their neighbours and family. It might sound like fantasy to our modern sensibilities, but some people really did think that this could happen.

Historians in the Middle Ages wrote about revenant activity as if it were fact. One man, William of Newburgh, wrote in 1190 that, and I quote, “It would not be easy to believe that the corpses of the dead should sally from their graves, and should wander about to the terror or destruction of the living, did not frequent examples, occurring in our own times, suffice to establish this fact, to the truth of which there is abundant testimony. Were I to write down all the instances of this kind which I have ascertained to have befallen in our times, the undertaking would be beyond measure, laborious, and troublesome”. Newburgh goes on to wonder why the ancient writers never mentioned events like these, but doesn’t seem to take that as proof that revenants are pure fantasy. They mentioned all sorts of boring things, mundane and unimportant, so why not the unnatural and unusual? He was, of course, wrong – the ancient Greeks did have certain beliefs surrounding the dead and their ability to return to haunt the living, but to them it was much more complicated, and each revenant came back with its own unique purpose. You see, the Greco-Roman culture believed that there was a gap between the date of someone’s actual death and their intended date of death. Remember, this was a culture that believed in the Moirai – the Fates – who had a plan for everyone. So, for example, a farmer might be destined to die in his 80s from natural causes, but he might instead die in an accident at the market or in his field. People who died early, according to the legends, were doomed to wander the land of the living as spirits until the day of their intended death arrived. Still with me? Good. So, what the Greeks believed was that it was possible to control those wandering spirits – all you needed to do was make a curse tablet, something written on clay or tin or even parchment, and then bury it in the person’s grave. Like a key in the ignition of a car, this tablet would empower someone to control the wandering dead. Now, it might sound like the world’s creepiest Martha Stewart how-to project, but to the Greeks magic like this was a powerful part of their belief system. The dead weren’t really gone, and because of that they could serve a purpose. Unfortunately, that’s not an attitude that was unique to the Greeks, and in the right culture, at the right time, under the right pressure, that idea can be devastating.

In Haiti, the vast majority of the people there are genetically connected to West Africa to some degree, up to 95% according to some studies. It’s a remnant of a darker time, when slavery was legal, and millions of Africans were pulled from their homes and transported across the Atlantic to work the sugar plantations that filled the Spanish coffers. We tend to imagine African slaves being shipped to the new world with no possessions beside the clothing on their backs, but they came with their beliefs, with their customs and traditions, and with centuries of folklore and superstition. They might not have carried luggage filled with precious heirlooms, but they held the most important pieces of their identity in their minds and hearts. No one can take that away. There are a few ideas that need to be understood about this transplanted culture. First, they believed that the soul and the body were connected, but also that death could be a moment of separation between the two. Not always, but it could be – I’ll explain more about that in a moment. Second, they lived with a hatred and fear of slavery. Slavery, of course, took away their freedom, it took away their power. They no longer had control over their lives, their dreams, or even their own bodies. Whether they liked it or not, they were doomed to endure horribly difficult labour for the rest of their lives; only death would break the chains and set them free. Third, that freedom wasn’t guaranteed. While most Africans dreamed of returning to their homeland in the afterlife, there were some who wanted to get there quicker. Suicide was common in colonial Haiti, but it was also frowned upon. In fact, it was believed that those who ended their own life wouldn’t be taken back to Africa at all. Instead, they would be punished. The penalty, it was said, was eternal imprisonment inside their own body, without control or power over themselves. It was, in a sense, just like their own life. To the slaves of Haiti, hell was just more slavery, but a slavery that went on forever. These bodies and trapped souls had a name in their culture: the zombie. It was first recorded in 1872, when a linguistic scholar recorded a zombie as, and I quote, “a phantom or ghost, not infrequently heard in the southern states in nurseries and among the servants”. The name, it turns out, has African roots as well. In the Congo they use the word nzambi, which means the spirit of a dead person. It’s related to two other words that both mean “god” and “fetish” – fetish in the sense of manufacturing a thing, a creature that has been made. The walking dead, at least according to Haitian lore, are real.

What did these zombie look like? Well, thanks to Zora Neale Hurston, we have a first-hand account. Hurston was an African American author, known for her novel Their Eyes Were Watching God, and regarded as one of the pillars of the Harlem Renaissance. And it was while researching folklore during a trip to Haiti in 1936 that she encountered one. In her book Tell my Horse, Hurston recounts what happened. “I had the rare opportunity to see and touch an authentic case”, she wrote. “I listened to the broken noises in its throat.... If I had not experienced all of this in the strong sunlight of a hospital yard, I might have come away from Haiti interested but doubtful. But I saw this case of Felicia Felix-Mentor which was vouched for by the highest authority. So I know that there are Zombies in Haiti. People have been called back from the dead. The sight was dreadful. That blank face with the dead eyes. The eyelids were white all around the eyes as if it had been burned with acid. There was nothing you could say to her or get from her except by looking at her, and the sight of this wreckage was too much to endure for long”. Wreckage. I can’t think of another word with as much beauty and horror as that, in the context. Something was happening in Haiti, and the result was wreckage, lives broken and torn apart by something – but what? The assumption might be that these people had all attempted suicide, but suicide is common in many cultures, not just in Haiti. When you dig deeper, though, it’s possible to uncover the truth, and in this case, the truth is much darker than we like to believe. Zombies, it turns out, can be created.

On the night of April 30th, 1962, a man walked into Albert Schweitzer Hospital in Haiti. He was sick and complained of body aches, a fever and, most recently, coughing fits that brought blood up from his lungs. Naturally, the medical staff were concerned, and they admitted him for tests and treatment. This man, Clairvius Narcisse, was seen by a number of medical doctors but his condition quickly deteriorated. One of his sisters, Angelina, was there at his bedside, and according to her his lips turned blue and he complained to her about a tingling sensation all over his body. But despite the hospital’s best efforts, Narcisse died the next day. Two doctors, one American and one American-trained, each confirmed his death. The man’s sister, Angelina, signed the death certificate after confirming the man’s identity. Because she couldn’t read or write, she did so by pressing her thumbprint onto the paper, and then his family began the painful process of burying their loved one and trying to move on. Death, as always, is a part of life; never a pleasant one, but a part nonetheless. Over 18 years later, in 1981, Angelina Narcisse was walking through the market in her village, something she did nearly every day. She knew the faces of each vendor, she knew the scents and the sounds that filled the space there, but when she looked down the dirt road toward the small crowd of people something frightened her, and she screamed. There, walking toward her, was her brother Clairvius. He was, of course, older now, but it was him. She would have recognised him anywhere, and when he finally approached her and named himself with a childhood nickname, any doubt she might have had melted away. What followed was a whirlwind of revelations as Clairvius told his sister what had happened to him, and it all started, he said, in the hospital room. According to him, his last moments in the bed there were dark, but fully aware. He could no longer see anyone, and he couldn’t move, but he remembered hearing the doctor pronounce him dead. He remembered the sound of his sister weeping. He even remembered the rough, cotton sheet being pulled up and over his face. But awareness continued on to his funeral, where he claimed to hear the procession. He even pointed to a scar on his face – he claimed that it was the result of one of the coffin nails cutting him. Later, the family brought in a psychiatrist, who performed a series of tests on Clairvius to see is he was a fraud, but the man passed with flying colours, answering questions that no one but Clairvius himself could have known. In an addition, over 200 friends and family members vouched for the man’s identity. This, all of them confirmed, was Clairvius Narcisse.

So, what happened to him? According to Clairvius himself, he was poisoned by his brother over a property dispute. How? He wasn’t sure, but shortly after his burial, a group of men dug up his coffin and pulled him free. That’s a thought worth locking away deep in the back of your brain, by the way: trapped inside a coffin beneath the earth, blind and paralysed, cold and scared. It’s a wonder the man didn’t go insane. The men who dug him up were led by a priest called a Bokor. The men chained Clairvius and then guided him away to a sugar plantation, where he was forced to work alongside others in a similar state of helplessness. Daily doses of a mysterious drug kept them all unable to resist or leave. According to his story, he managed to escape two years later, but fearing what his brother might do to him if he were to show up alive, he avoided returning home. It was only the news of his brother’s death many years later that coaxed him out of hiding. The story of Clairvius Narcisse has perplexed scientists and historians for decades. In the 1980s, Harvard sent an ethno-botanist named Wade Davis to investigate the mysterious drug, and the result of his trip was a book called The Serpent and the Rainbow, which would go on to be a New York Times bestseller as well as a Hollywood movie, but few agree on the conclusions. Samples of the drug that Wade collected have all been disproven, no illegal sugar plantations staffed by zombie slaves has ever been discovered, and the doctors have been accused of misreading the symptoms and prematurely declaring the man dead – there are so many doubts. To the people closest to him, though, the facts are solid. Clairvius Narcisse died, his family watched his burial in the cemetery, he was mourned and missed, and 18 years later he came back into their lives. The walking dead: medical mishap or the result of Haitian black magic? We may never know for sure.

Stories of the walking dead are everywhere these days. It’s as if we’ve traded in our obsession with extending our life and resigned to the fact that normal death, the kind where we die and stay dead, might be better. We fear death because it means the loss of control, the loss of purpose and freedom. Death, in the eyes of many people, robs us of our identity and replaces it with finality. It’s understandable, then, how slavery can be viewed through that same lens. It removes a person’s ability to make decisions for themselves – it turns them, in a sense, into nothing more than a machine for the benefit of another person. But what if there really are individuals out there, the Bokor and evil priests, who have discovered a way to manufacture their own walking dead, who have perfected the art of enslaving a man or women deeper than any slave owner might have managed before, to rob them of their very soul and bind them to an afterlife of tireless, ceaseless labour? In February of 1976, Francine Illeus was admitted to her local hospital in Haiti. She said she felt weak and light-headed. Her digestive system was failing, and her stomach ached. The doctors there treated her and then released her. Several days later, she passed away and was buried in the local graveyard. She had only been 30 years old. Three years later, Francine’s mother received a call from a friend a few miles away. She needed her to come to the local marketplace there, and said it was urgent. Francine’s mother didn’t know what the trouble was, but she made the journey as quickly as she could. Once there, she was told that a woman had been found in the market. She was emaciated, catatonic, and refused to move from where she was squatting in the corner, head down, hands laced over her face. The woman, it turned out, was Francine Illeus. Her mother brought her home and tried to help her, but Francine seemed to be gone. She was there in body, but there was very little spirit left. Subsequent doctors and psychiatrists have spent time with Francine, but with very little progress to show for it. On a whim, Francine’s mother had the coffin exhumed. She had to see for herself if this woman, little more than a walking corpse, truly was her daughter. Yes, the woman had the same scar on her forehead that her daughter had, yes, they looked alike, yes, others recognised her as Francine, but she needed to know for sure. When the men pulled the coffin out of the earth, it was heavy, too heavy, they murmured, to be empty. More doubtful by the minute, Francine’s mother asked them to open it, and when the last nail had been pulled free from the wood, the lid was lifted and cast aside. The coffin wasn’t empty after all – it was full of rocks.

[Closing statements]

#lore podcast #podcasts #aaron mahnke #podcast transcripts #zombie #zombies #night of the walking dead #revenant #voodoo #haiti #transcripts #26

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patienceyields · 6 years ago

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I Need A Hero: Some Last Thoughts on Shiro the Hero

Before S8’s premier, I’m sitting here like a good Shiro stan, feeling proud of my boy’s development. And feeling so grateful that we met this Shiro through Voltron, and that they had to bring him back to us — this amazing character who represents so much as a symbol on so many different levels — a gay icon; a man of color main lead; a disabled action hero; a trauma survivor who overcame so much adversity. As someone who gets up and fights and fights and fights.

It was a pleasure seeing Shiro’s arc come full circle in S7 with him returning to Earth to captain the Atlas, with Shiro getting his own mech connected to his own quintessence/heroic destiny — one that he has a mental bond with much in the same way he had with Black. It is exciting to know that he is still a paladin in his own way, that he is still able to defend the universe alongside his old and new teams. Shiro is in his element again — a leader, a source of inspiration, a teacher, a mentor, a hero — a Champion of the universe (and not just in a Galra-run gladiator fighting pit). Going into S8 I hope this is something he can continue to offer those around him — both to the Voltron paladins and to his own crew of the Atlas as they go into this last epic battle.

Shiro as Atlas, the greek mythological figure that holds up the heavens; and Shiro as an atlas — a guide, a map, a template, a source of direction. Shiro has been a supportive hand, a guide and guiding light to his teammates, and his death and survival have been a fundamental part of his team’s destinies.

“I don’t know what’s more fulfilling than being a paladin.” — Kuron’s words carry the essence of Shiro’s heart, the fact that he gets so much fulfillment from his work to save others. What would be greater than being a warrior fighting for good in every universe? Being of service to a greater power/mission, helping people, defending people? Shiro’s journey toward the Atlas is his journey back toward his inner power, strength, and heart work, allowing him to take his own advice and to “Go. Be Great.”

I think a lot about Shiro as a survivor — of illness, of torture, of enslavement, of medical experimentation, of imprisonment. There are just some characters that teach you how to survive, how to keep going in the face of the impossible. Shiro is that impossible boy. The boy who never should have survived (was never meant to), and I think he understands this. Every day is a gift, and every fight is worth having if it can bring freedom to the universe.

I think a lot about how Shiro knew from the beginning that he didn’t have long to make his dreams a reality, knowing that Kerberos would be his last chance at piloting a mission (a dream he had since reading about the Calypso mission which made him want to become a pilot) — the three-year mission to Kerberos was his last chance to see the universe and to live life on his own terms. I think a lot about what that mission ultimately meant for Shiro — capture, death, resurrection. But also a life-altering bigger destiny.

I think about Shiro and his relationship to his body — illness, disability, visual sacrifice, as well as a place for summoning his reserves of unbelievable strength (physical and mental). Shiro’s body was/is a weapon — honed that way by the Garrison first, and then by Haggar and her Druids. Shiro’s body was always going to be something he would willingly sacrifice for the larger mission — space exploration or war. Shiro has been a clone, a double, and he’s been thousands of bodies falling through space — we may never really know what he feels when he looks at himself, knowing how his body has been used as a Galra gladiator and as a project by Haggar to infiltrate into his team. Shiro's trauma has always rumbled just below the surface but made itself visible in his physical/bodily scars (his missing arm/the stress changing his hair color) and through his mental scars — his manifestations of PTSD. And Shiro’s body has so often been out of his control — due to his illness, his enslavement, and his time in the Black Lion’s consciousness. But now having a new body (and a new arm), and having a new chance to enact his heroic calling through the mind-body-spirit connection he has to the Atlas, is so important. He can use his body to once again guide his team toward saving people.

I think about Shiro and worthiness — his childhood dreams of space, of making a difference, and then fighting to prove himself worthy in the face of his illness (to never thinking he would live long enough to follow his dreams, and to having to prove to himself and others that he could succeed despite his illness). I think later to his time as slave when he had all choice taken from him, when he was forced to hurt others to survive. I think of the moments when he doubted his worthiness as a paladin because of that time in the arena, to the moments when he thought himself broken or a monster for what happened to him (Sendak’s words echoing from S1). But now he has a chance to save, to prove his worth again.

I think about Shiro and his team — “I had help.” Those words always floor me. This show is about teamwork, found family, and the incredible bonds forged when people come together for a common goal. Shiro voicing that he couldn’t do it alone, that his team helped him to keep going despite all he went through is so important. And then we remember all the ways Shiro supported, protected, guided, and mentored his team. Shiro had to learn to forgive himself for the loss of his first team, forgive himself for any danger faced by the young paladins he’d been able to lead into battle during his time in Black. I love that moment in S7 when he’s so dang proud of the paladins after they were able to connect with their lions. And I am never not thinking about his life-changing, incredible friendship and mentorship of Keith, which set the stage for Keith as the current Black paladin. Shiro saw a leader in Keith and this, my friends, changed everything. Shiro’s belief in one boy and this one boy’s belief in him would change the universe. The interconnectedness of their leadership arcs and storylines are a core part of the overall Voltron story. Shiro’s leadership journey came full circle with the dynamic team-up between Voltron and Atlas, allowing Shiro to find his own path toward leadership again, one that mirrors his own rebirth/rebuilt nature and his own heroic destiny.

I think about Shiro’s words in S1 when Allura told him they didn’t have his Black paladin bayard — “I guess I’ll just have to make do.” I feel like this was something Shiro had probably done all his life. Figured out a way to make do, how to fight with what he had (grit, perseverance, hard work), even if he was limited in resources. For him to become one of the best pilots of his generation, breaking orbital velocity records!!!, and to become the youngest pilot ever to lead a mission into space (what could he have been: 21, 22, 23?!) — what sacrifices this must have taken, what inner strength/perseverance. The words he said to Keith in S7E1’s flashback say so much — “People can accomplish incredible things if they’re willing to put in the time and effort…” I think about how this alongside his mantra of “patience yields focus” must have fueled a teenage Shiro in his dedication to his role as a soldier, as a pilot, as a leader. To be the best he could be no matter what.

I think a lot about Shiro and family and home and what comes next — about Shiro (seemingly) not having a blood “family” to send a video back to in S7, and not having an image to focus on outside of the Kerberos mission in S1 when everyone was envisioning something in their heads when they were trying to connect as Voltron. I think for so long Shiro had his mission(s), ones he didn’t think he would live beyond. So the idea of anything or anyone to return to on Earth didn’t exist. I think a lot about what it meant for him to have found family with Keith, with the Holts, and with the rest of the paladins, and what his greater role as a Captain (or Admiral) of the Atlas will be post-war and what his role as part of the new Garrison leadership could be, teaching and mentoring future pilots and leaders.

I think a lot about Shiro and his stoicism and his vulnerability — in many ways he is your fearless, ever-steady, stoic hero figure, groomed for leadership. I have a friend who served in the military who talks about how as males in the military they are taught a certain kind of masculine buttoned-up, silent stoicism, and they are taught to regulate emotions to the back burner, not to let feelings surface, and to be in control of their emotions at all times. I see this in Shiro as he works to present a calm demeanor to the world. We don't know much about Shiro's backstory before his early mentorship of Keith, and the end of his relationship with Adam, and the impact of his illness on his chances of going on the Kerberos mission. What we can see on screen is a natural leader, but also someone who tries his best to be level-headed, and to project a cool, calm, strong, patient, and self-controlled demeanor that can help his team focus on their mission. Shiro watches, observes, and doesn’t openly show much of his own vulnerability/fragility — he’s been shown to be hyper-vigilant at times, and some of his strong professionalism and guardedness are likely forms of protection much like his uniform can be seen as his outward protective armor (whether this is a response stemming from his military training, from his PTSD/trauma, from dealing with his chronic illness, we can only guess). For his team he aims to always appear strong and reliable, which is why it’s powerful when we see him with Keith, letting go of some of the outer “always together” facade, letting his guard down, allowing himself to be vulnerable, and finally feeling a sense of trust, safety, and security with someone else.

Shiro, the impossible boy. Who never expected to survive his most famous mission, but would go on to be a major part of the story of how the universe was saved. I am excited to see him in S8, with his new lease on life, his calling in full effect once again, fighting beside so many people he himself inspired and taught — all working together as a team to defend the universe.

“We can do this. We have to believe in ourselves. We can't give up. We are the universe's only hope. Everyone is relying on us. We can't fail! We won't fail!” This speech he gave in S1E1 was probably the speech he gave to himself during his darkest hours growing up, during his time in the fighting pit, during his time in the Black Lion’s consciousness, during whatever moments he allowed himself to feel fear or doubt or any sense of insecurity. Words meant to inspire and propel into action. I am looking forward to Shiro’s inspirational words that will set his team off in S8. And I’m looking forward to him and the rest of the paladins winning this epic war.

Thank you Voltron for giving us Captain Takashi Shirogane, such a legendary defender.

#shiro #takashi shirogane #meta #a shiro stans last stand #come on S8 don't hurt us too much #i'm not ready!!!!#long post #vld: mine #this became a shiro thesis sorry not sorry #just writing my feels before S8 makes me cry

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youswiminmywater · 6 years ago

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new perspectives on loneliness

it’s important to try to stay away from your bed sometimes. i never used to be the type to spend the entire day locked away in my room, but the past few months have been exactly that. i even rearranged all of my furniture one day just to change things up, update and organize everything in a way that made more sense. pointed my bed towards the tv. put my clothes in the closet, in my bed drawers (which is astoundingly a habit i’m still keeping up!). organized, alphabetized, and filtered through all of the stuff on my bookshelf, made better use of the space in my room. there’s still some stuff to throw out. there’s still dust accumulating. but it’s a snail’s step, a healthy move inside of a swampy situation. i don’t want this room for much longer, or at least i don’t want to be trapped in it all the time, but i’m glad i fixed it.

the other day, i went down to the cafe to get a salad and try to read a little in public, which is generally my go-to outing for when i want to get out of my house. it’s important to get out of the house sometimes. i’ve been trying to slog through “the faerie queene,” which is an old renaissance epic poem about knights and chivalry and greek mythology splashed into a weird christianity-focused landscape. i’m reading it most because i can, because i know what words like “weet” used to mean, because i’m comfortable reading spenser’s intentionally bizarre spelling and letter-swaps. just for context, here’s an example:

Nathlesse the villen sped himselfe so well, Whether through swiftnesse of his speedy beast; Or knowledge of those woods, where he did dwell, That shortly he from daunger was releast, And out of sight escaped at the least; Yet not escaped from the dew reward Of his bad deeds, which dayly he increast, Ne ceased not, till him oppressed hard The heauy plague, that for such leachours is prepard.

and i’m also reading it because the stories are fun to retell in my own words, whenever i can find an ear to gab into! a lot of old literature is like that, surprising you with a fun story. so i took my massive old book with queen victoria on the cover, got my salad, and decided to sit nearby a couple that looked like they were on a date so that i could eavesdrop on them.

boy is it easy to judge strangers! from what i could tell, he was an older guy, maybe grad student age, clad in nouveau punk garb, the band shirt with sleeves rolled up to his armpits, the rolled up jean shorts, stompy boots, thick rimmed glasses, the side shave haircut that everyone seems to be sporting these days, tattoos up his arms and half way up his neck. he was talking very adamantly about his classes, particularly with a recognizable pretension about how much of an intensely emotional and intellectual endeavor it is to both READ and WRITE in the modern age. something or other about how his professors just Don’t Understand, how they’re Taking the Magic Out of It. he was very particular about the genres he liked to read, and very particular about explaining it to her with confidence, caution, and exactness. she, meanwhile, was at least a few years younger than him (in fact, i’m pretty sure she was an acquaintance of mine, knew her tangentially through people i knew in high school), and it seemed like she hadn’t been to at least a traditional college in several years. the last i remember, she worked at this kind of odd farm-fresh fast-food joint, where they make you wear blue bandannas instead of brand hats. she looked like she went to art school maybe, studied photography. she was very supportive of his opinions on reading books, or whatever, and tried her best to come up with things to share back on the subject, but it was clear she wasn’t really That Into reading. she ran with the crowd that was used to doing, parties and skateboarding and concerts, not sitting at home over a notebook.

it just seemed like the kind of pairing that didn’t have much in common, but they were still fresh and enthusiastic and willing to blow past differences and have some fun for a while. in any case, i was in true goblin form, hunched over my salad, building stories for each of them in my head, telling myself they were communicating poorly and failing to connect with each other, telling myself they’ll be over and done within a few months, maybe more if the circumstances call for it. a stupid grin slapped across my brain while i half-read about some sinful queen named “lucifera,” who embodied Vanity itself in every way, even carrying around a hand mirror just to admire herself.

this is the cafe i used to work at, and so i knew a lot of the patrons and just about all of the employees; i spotted one person, the “new girl,” also enjoying a salad off duty a few tables away from me. she had been hired shortly after i left, though the two of us had developed a little bit of camaraderie between my frequent visits. i called her bree-bree, she called me bri-bri, it was something cute and fun between us. one of the few fond connections i have with the world outside my bedroom.

i made my way to the door, pretended to notice her, and sat down in the seat across from her, imposing in probably a very trumpian way, though she didn’t seem to mind, wasn’t nose deep in a book like i pretended to be. we got to immediately gossiping about the couple i was just eavesdropping on, my favorite hobby, talking about dating and relationships from a safe and frankly lofty position, dragging someone into my holier-than-thou mindscape to bond with them. it’s the magic of people-watching, really, and sharing that experience with someone makes you feel so much less like a wretched lonely creep. she nodded sagely when i talked about talking but not communicating, first dates in the cafe.

she told me a story about how she was on a first date with a guy and kept asking him questions expecting him to toss the ball back into her court, but at the end of his several monologues, the only thing he was able to bring back to her was “so, any more questions for me?” i told her he was probably trying very hard to impress her, and maybe felt interrogated. like it was his time to make a splash and show her how good and smart of a boy he was! and probably terrified out of his mind. you can’t chalk everything up to male vanity. she shrugged a maybe-probably. i declined to tell her a story about some of my first dates, not wishing to mirror the guy she just described to me.

i learned that she was dating one of the other guys that worked at the cafe, who was working there that day, though the whole thing was a sort of semi-hush. she said they dated but she didn’t really talk about it. she just gazed at him over my shoulder, dreamy-eyed. how do you get a girl to look at you that way? i admired it, appreciated it. i turned around and announced to the guy “i didn’t know you two were dating!” made him blush, show him that i was Aware and not threatening anything by having an intimate salad talk with his girl right in front of him. she told me she was moving to Cleveland in two weeks, and was bad with long-distance. she didn’t seem that bothered by it, though i still sympathized, knowing by now how those relationships end, the early 20s flings that always get bashed backwards by college schedules and other necessity.

her mentioning it gave me an opportunity to talk about vivien, for a moment. i told her i was a long-distance veteran. i forcibly showed off pictures of vivien, of the two of us together, because i was dying to show at least one person, even someone who could be barely considered a friend. i don’t know why i wanted to; maybe another opportunity to say “just so we’re clear, i’m not trying to come onto you, here’s a girl i already like!” or maybe it was a way to legitimize a connection in my life that seems to slip away more and more every day.

i offered to give her a ride, probably a minor misstep. she said she preferred walking, good exercise. i agreed, told her i wanted to ride my bike more often too. she insisted i make some desserts for her and the cafe before she had to leave, and i promised i would. left.

i had something of a panic attack that night. i don’t like calling it that, because the feeling wasn’t...well, maybe i’m just unfamiliar with panic. it was intangible. i was feeling manic, i could hear myself breathing, i wanted to get out of the house again (this was now around 11pm or so). i was feeling trapped, claustrophobic, lonely, forgotten. i went to a 24/7 gyro place to tap my foot, pick up dinner for me and my mom. wrote an obscure facebook status. sent a few oblique text messages. wanting attention but not wanting to attract it. wanting someone to care about me and show concern but feeling selfish and childish by offering out my hands.

i had a phone conversation with a friend of mine just before. my best friend, or at least someone i used to be really close with, now feeling more and more like a stranger, more like a burden, more like i destroyed something that was taking a painstakingly long time to fully implode. i was becoming less and less to her, and it showed in our conversation, and showed even more when she was telling me about other friends she was starting to hang out with more, or when she was having a conversation with her boyfriend that was so much more lively than the one she was having with me. it used to be the other way around. i sat on the phone and let my heart break, realized i was becoming alone again, and ended up at this gyro place an hour later.

it’s not that i’m particularly going to miss the life i’ve been living the past few years; i really hate feeling stuck, even if i had some great company while doing so, and shared a lot of myself with someone who has been very important to me. but trying to move on has blasted away a lot of stuff i took for granted, or didn’t realize i depended on so heavily. so i guess i had a panic attack, on both ends. i felt empty and heartbroken looking back on my past friendship; i felt worried and alone looking forward. i’m still not sure if i’m moving into anything real or not.

maybe i’m once again too much in my own head, but sometimes i get the feeling vivien is already done with me. we don’t really have any plans when it comes to moving closer to each other; i’m not even sure what she wants for her own life sometimes. we’ve both been through our own gauntlets, and we know long-distance isn’t really something we have the energy for anymore. all i know is that we happen to have landed in the same spot, together, right now. but i don’t know if we’re both going to leave this place together, or if we’re going to be facing the same direction when we do. we’re certainly not going to stay here for much longer. i only hope she isn’t already through with me. sometimes i feel like a needy puppy, begging for her attention, putting effort into something that i maybe shouldn’t be. i truly do adore her, and we resemble each other so much; we sometimes joke about being each other’s “twin flame,” soulmates. it still feels that way. but soulmates aren’t always lovers.

i’m just preparing myself for the worst. i don’t want it to be over yet.

today i listened to an “etiquette podcast” on the way home. it’s really hardly about etiquette most of the time; it’s just this married couple that started a podcast together, likely because the wife felt left out of her husband’s podcasting career and wanted an excuse to hang out with him. they pick random topics, the wife goes into a brief “history” of the thing, and then they talk about “the best way to blank,” “when is the right time to blank.” how do i ask for a raise without coming off as bossy? what’s the best way to end a phone call? what’s the proper thing to say when i fart on the train?

this week’s episode was about naps. the wife went into a personal yarn about how she had postpartum depression and took frequent naps that just felt Very Bad. like gigantic naps that felt too good, wasted the whole day. the husband likened it to eating ice cream when you’re starving. just the wrong medicine for the occasion.

when i got home, i took a 6-hour nap. i was still riding the wave of sadness from the day before, though without the manic energy. just the overwhelming feeling of aloneness, having no one to share anything with anymore. being alone really makes a lot of things feel pointless, when you’re in the headspace of, i want to do things so i have something to share with people. suddenly reading feels stupid. endeavors to work out feel pointless. long naps are a brief fast-forward through something that feels like it ought to blow away at some point. and it really doesn’t, at least, not in the way you expect it to.

i woke up and checked my e-mails, my school e-mail in particular, to remind myself that i was still a student and had responsibilities beyond trying to find love and companionship to enrich my future (snort!). cracked open my textbook, a chapter about plate presentation, and got quite lost flipping between dessert possibilities. really inspiring stuff, even though the book is a little outdated:

i’m sure this is somewhat a product of my mood...but looking at these foods made me really want to dive into my work as a pastry chef. become good at something, make all these sauces and coulis and collect a bunch of chocolate shavings and such and try out some plate designs for myself, likely in very bizarre, personal ways. “here you go mom, i made dessert, and i bought a special plate to put it on!” i mean, how else is a boy to practice? it’s a relief seeing stuff like this, because the class i’m taking right now makes me believe cake decorating is the alpha and the omega of pastry learning. and i just hate cake decorating! my boss told me that some people are decorators and some people are producers, and that i’m a producer. i feel good about that role. it’s encouraging.

i’ve written pretty freely and frequently about this belief i have, that people have a built in “fail-safe” system that keeps them from tolerating a bad feeling for too long. some motivation inside of them that keeps them from stewing in depression until they disintegrate. in the past, i’ve taken opportunities like this one i’m in to go on impulsive bike rides, usually in the dead of the night. i felt the same impulse washing over me today; however, i knew that my bike tires were flat and needed a pump. this is essentially the extent of my bike-repair expertise, so if they didn’t stay inflated, i was probably done for without a real concentrated effort to fix the damn thing.

i went outside to our backyard shed to try and find the bicycle pump. no luck. and our backyard was starting to look and feel overgrown, plants poking through fences and coming up to the windows. my mom says she likes the overgrown because it grants privacy, but i hated it in that moment. i wanted to clear everything away. in lieu of finding my bike pump, i grabbed some forgotten rusty shears instead, and just started going to town on these masses of towering plants. snipping bit by bit, shoving them into mossy old yard bags, grabbing thorns and twigs barehanded in my sleepwear and clogs. just fed up, burying my feelings in the impulse.

i started to imagine, maybe this is what i need to do from now on. just focus on cleaning the house, yard work. eventually move on to working out, getting stronger arms, losing weight, eating healthier. if i’m going to be a shut-in for the rest of my life, maybe this is the secret to accepting it. just obsessing over some kind of work and never thinking about loneliness ever again, except maybe by accident late at night, in moments of stillness. it made me feel kind of like boo radley. it was a familiar place, like one that i had recognized in writers and poets, or any other person that was considered isolated, in solitude. like a retired old dad, feverishly picking up hobbies to keep himself busy. emily dickinson with her botany and gardening (did you know she had a 66-page leather-bound book of pressed plants? it’s called an herbarium). or like a robert frost type, hauling wood to a cabin, reveling in the simplicity of it. after all, it’s easier to tear weeds out of the ground than it is to make friends. maybe it’s the kind of life i need to embrace, constantly becoming better and healthier, more useful, stronger, but for nobody. building a nice home and a nice life and only sharing it with someone if i get really lucky.

i didn’t really hang out with my dad much after my parents were divorced, and now that i’m older, and i’m realizing how badly i wanted someone to teach me how to be a guy. all the things i remember doing with him when i was younger, fishing, flying kites, swimming, are distant memories. i’m rusty. i’m gonna take my kids to do these things with nostalgia and fumble at it, because it fell out of my life a long time ago. i feel like being outside again, getting bug bites, tearing up the yard and putting it back together again...it’s a way of being a dad to myself. or i feel like my dad was supposed to teach me this stuff, like it’s a old secret, “now son, when you grow up and your life isn’t what you wanted it to be, just build a birdhouse. it’s the best remedy for depression!”

or maybe it was just a manic episode, me out there chopping away at the bushes. a cathartic release that’ll sink back into its deep slumber again come tomorrow. it was a shift in perspective, another way of making loneliness OK, a different kind of ocean to drown in. i wouldn’t mind if it stuck around.

i know i really don’t deserve much, i’m not exactly a very good person. but if i can find a way to turn all these feelings back in on themselves, and just focus on something...manual and productive, i think it’s a life i’d take. just needs some motivation.

#personal #blog

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communistastrobabe-blog · 7 years ago

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My Thoughts on Lilith, and rebuttal to @littledoomwitch

Through my extensive research on Lilith it’s been very difficult to find solid sources regarding her history. It’s only recently I’ve come across the Lilith discourse on tumblr, particularly that of @littledoomwitch. Although I respect what they have to say on the little-discussed niche topic of Lilith, there are certain points I fundamentally disagree with them about. Prior to finding their blog, what little I found regarding Lilith worship was always pro-Lilith in that they viewed her as a feminist demon open for anyone to worship. As I try to be as aware as possible of not accidentally appropriating a closed culture or religion in my witchcraft, i was very surprised yet interested in hearing the viewpoints voiced by tumblr user littledoomwitch which (in more or less terms) view Lilith as an entity that is inappropriate to worship, especially from gentiles. After going through about 10 pages of the #lilithdefensesquad tag, I think I got the general gist and have a couple takes. However I am very open-minded and am still actively engaging in Lilith research, so please feel free to engage or correct me on any of this.

- Firstly, I’d like to clarify how I view Lilith. I strongly disagree with the Dianic Wiccan nonsense that Lilith is synonymous with the mother-goddess, or that she is anyway associated with love, fertility, motherhood, positivity, healing, etc. Wiccans who conflate Lilith with the "Mother" or goddesses from the Greek/Roman pantheon fundamentally misconstrue what little we do know about Lilith, and I believe are very disrespectful. If you are going to worship Lilith, do not try to paint her as some sweet Benevolent Mother-figure. Take her for who she is, and do not simply discount the beliefs of an ancient religion.

- Lilith, to me, is a powerful goddess (I use 'goddess' loosely - you could say demon, or otherworldly creature - that's pretty much just semantics) who represents wild, repressed, destructive feminine energy. I do not believe she is "evil", because I do not believe in the good/evil binary. She is chaotic, amoral, vengeful, assertive, beautiful, powerful, angry, promiscuous, and defiant. She is associated with infertility and miscarriage, as well as succubi, or demons who would steal men's semen in the middle of the night and cause premature ejaculation.

I do not worship Lilith on a daily basis. I don't feel comfortable praying to her or talking to her like I would other more approachable entities. Still, I do make offerings to her, in exchange for keeping me from getting pregnant. I also call on her in cursework and she is a very powerful and destructive force to deal with. I call on her in times where I need her destructive anger and strength backing me. But I am always aware of the price she exacts.

- As for her history, I don't really buy that she doesn't show up in other religions apart from ancient Judaism. 600 bc where she's first mentioned in Judaism she is also briefly described in the Epic of Gilgamesh, and the jury is out about which drew from the other. Mythological figures THAT far back tend to appear in altered forms cross-culturally. So does it really matter whether or not Lilith came exclusively from the Sumerian 'lilitu' or Jewish rabbinical literature? Probably it was a combination of both, due to the intermingling of different cultures from war, trade, conquest, etc. We don't have definitive sources because now we're getting further and further into BC years where there are fewer and fewer written sources. Personally, I'd like to think that Lilith is an archetype that has been passed down orally since almost the beginning of civilization, existing in one demonic form or another. This isn't to discount her role in Jewish mythology, but you really can't make the claim that she is closed to worship by modern gentile practitioners of witchcraft, given that a) Lilith was never worshipped by Jews in the first place, and b) she wasn't a figure exclusively known to the Jews, as the Epic of Gilgamesh also mentions her c) she's also mentioned in Isaiah later on. You make the claim that gentiles aren't allowed to worship a Jewish demoness because she's been historically feared by the Jews in ancient times; but ask any Jew (or anyone, for that matter) who Lilith is today and I'd say 9 out of 10 do not know who she is. Furthermore, I really don't think this argument stands when you look at all the other biblical villains who are being worshipped in neo-wicca, the most obvious being SATAN himself. Is worshipping Satan/Samael/Lucifer culturally appropriative or antisemitic, as you claim worshipping Lilith is? I'd be skeptical if you said it was, given that so many of us within neo-paganism worship Satan.

- I completely disagree with your point that Lilith cannot be worshipped by Gentiles. Yes, Judaism is a PARTIALLY closed religion. It is not completely closed given the fact that gentiles have been allowed to ritually convert to judaism. Similar to how Christianity is not closed but you still need to go through a ritual baptism in order to be a full-fledged member. This differentiates them from closed religions like most native american, indigenous, and african tribal religions where outsiders are completely banned. In those cases it would be inappropriate for outsiders to worship Native American deities for example and claim their mythology as their own. But Judaism, along with Christianity and Islam, are NOT closed religions. We should respect other cultures' beliefs and mythologies, but the Abrahamic religions are not closed from outsider worship of deities/demons/what have you.

- Regardless about whether you personally think the First Wife story is true or not based on the validity of the Ben Sira text, you yourself have admitted that many rabbinical scholars were influenced by this text and it had a profound effect on how Jews viewed Lilith for centuries. Lilith has been taught even in Hebrew school as being Adam's first wife, to quote yourself. So why are you so pissed that jews AND gentile witches are believing the same thing? Also consider that the first wife tale may not have begun with the ben sira text, since most myths tend to be past down orally for centuries before it is eventually written down. I doubt the author of ben sira made it up out of nowhere - everything originates from somewhere. I really don't think it's that far of a stretch, and given that it's one of the only sources we have on lilith and Jews have been believing and teaching their children that Lilith was Adam's first wife for centuries, you really don't have room to shit on believers of the first wife story. You can be skeptical of the text itself and the intentions of the anonymous author, as we should be of ALL ancient documents, but you shouldn't discount it simply because there's no other sources backing it up yet to be uncovered. While I personally do believe the alphabet of sirach was a satirical text, I don't necessarily believe the lilith story was pulled out of thin air. It was also written in 2 parts; the first part being older and largely thought of as the most satirical, and the second part written by a different author containing the lilith story.

- You claim that people shouldn't worship lilith because that would imply jewish religion is misogynistic because adam tried to dominate her and god took his side and she left…. But really, come on now, MOST if not all major world religions particularly the abrahamic ones are inherently misogynistic. To claim that not even SOME ancient jewish texts / practices do not contain misogynistic elements would kinda be purposefully ignoring a lot of problems with organized religion in general which tends to be inherently misogynistic?? I don't think it's a stretch to claim that organized religion in GENERAL is misogynistic and I'm mainly talking about Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. This is just a fact and it's not antisemitism but rather being critical of misogyny present in organized religion.

- I think I'm done but one last thought- I've heard time and time again that Lilith is viewed as either trans or intersex in some circles but I can't find any sources. If anyone knows anything about it and can point me in the right direction that would be lovely.

- Again, feel free to dispute any of this, I'm here to learn more.

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roseandmae · 7 years ago

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Wonder Woman Review

So I FINALLY saw Wonder Woman, but then saw it again with in a week. Hopefully obvious, but spoilers below. First off, I LOVED IT. Like okay, not a perfect movie but pretty fucking bad ass. I liked the way they introduced the Greek Mythology. I like that this has the young Diana being one who is smart and sassy. Definitely closer to the newer origin stories for Diana. Themyscira seemed amazing and I loved the power in those scenes. Hippolyta and Antiope's sisterly bond is well played as they both want what's best for Diana and think they know how to protect her.

One of the things that really stood out to me is Director Patty Jenkins decision to have Wonder Woman come to the land of man during World War I instead of World War II and to me it makes such sense. That was the first war that seemed like the end of the world was quite possible, that it may never end. If the Amazons were waiting for Ares to attack again it seems like it'd be hard for him not to show up until WWII. Also, for a woman driven movie it was great to have the timing being during the suffragette movement in London. That was the other noticeable difference from the comics and TV series is that she wasn't fighting for America, hence losing the stars on her garments.

Her outfit seemed quite practical especially in line with what an Amazonian Warrior would wear. They didn't have guns so leather would seem sufficient protection and on a perfect island there isn't the same drive to advance war technologies like the rest of the world was doing. Also her critiques on women's fashion was so great and I loved watching her try on things and see if she could fight in them. Also anyone who claims it's skimpy...have you never seen a Wonder Woman anything before?

Gal Gadot did an amazing job as Wonder Woman. She looked toned and strong and confident. Her delivery of lines didn't seem overly done or campy but true. You could feel the confusion and injustice she felt. The desperation that she had failed the village and the rage towards Steve that he stopped her. The defeat when she thought she killed Ares but the war continued on. I'm so excited to see her continue in this role and onto others. Also that she did re-shoots while 5 months pregnant is mind blowing.

I really liked that Steve was a sub-plot and a lot of her affection for him came from the bond they formed. It didn't seem to draw focus from the overall story arc and was more intriguing and seemed to be so the audience would care what happened to him. His wry and charm seemed to compliment her seriousness and awkwardness being in a new land. Their whole rag-tag family into the war zone is unique in the commentary. Chief however wins as my favorite. Also, a reminder that who you consider to be the good guys can depend on the time and place.

Wonder Woman gives a lot of the moments many origin stories for other worldly (okay she's from earth but is an Amazon from a hidden island so I'm counting it) beings. She's able to point out the flaws in human kind. She has this ideal of how to save everyone if only they would get out of her way. Commentary on fashion and roles in society. One of my favorite lines was her talking to the general about how he sits behind a desk while his men fight and die.

Sometimes the action scenes went a bit long for me but that's pretty much my critique of every superhero movie. Also BIG SPOILER AHEAD the twist that she was the actual god killer and not the sword seemed predictable. Then again I love procedural shows and have a tendency to sputter out in a joke what ends up to be the twist so maybe I'm not the best judge. Other times the CGI just seemed a little to much but I'm sure many of those moments were made for the 3D and I can't do 3D movies so it just seemed a lot in 2D.

I was bummed that Steve's epic move of taking the bombs up into the atmosphere didn't have a Tony Stark Avengers moment where some how he fell back down and was safe but this is a superhero universe so death doesn't mean anyone is off the table. I do hope they bring him back because I felt like Chris Pine's performance was awesome and he had great timing.

Now, although I think this is one of the best superhero movies out there, my hope is it's the start of something new. I hope it means we can have more diverse superheros going forward. Until there can be as many big budget bad female superhero movies as there are male without the stakes riding on it things will not be even. (George Clooney as Batman anyone?) If Ryan Reynolds can go from the Green Lantern to Deadpool and Ben Affleck can do his flop of a Daredevil (which the character also got a second chance on Netflix) to being Batman (even if people don't love him as it); then why can't we have another Catwoman (although thankfully Halle Berry got a chance kicked butt as Storm) or Electra. What superhero will Jenifer Garner get to play at her second shot.

Definitely buying this as soon as it comes out on DVD/Blu Ray and will probably be a regular watch.

#Review #movie #wonder woman

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