Tag: ancient

thoodleoo:

thoodleoo:

thoodleoo:

i really want a rom com featuring catullus, propertius, and ovid

i am thinking about this way too much but

ovid’s always raving about his girlfriend corinna so catullus and propertius ask him for help with their relationships with clodia and cynthia. he proceeds to give them a bunch of terrible dating advice and shenanigans ensue. everyone finds out that corinna doesn’t actually exist and ovid was just making her up, clodia and cynthia end up together, and the three boys end up crying together over their love lifes

my boyfriend and i were talking about this sitcom idea i had like a year ago and i still love it so i’m gonna expand on it some more

  • ovid’s love advice is really clearly terrible but catullus and propertius are idiots so they still follow it even when he’s obviously talking out his ass
  • tibullus is their weird neighbor who occasionally comes over and inevitably ends up talking about his weird kinks
  • ovid has gotten sexiled on multiple occasions when clodia and cynthia come over, and once when catullus and propertius had just gotten broken up with and got a little drunk
  • half of the humor is ovid coming up with increasingly complex reasons why corinna never comes over until she eventually becomes a sort of mythological figure in the household

ishtargates:

xuchilpaba:

Happy International Women’s day! 

In celebration let’s talk about Enheduanna, an ancient Sumerian high priestess of the goddess of fertility and war; Inanna.

What makes Enheduanna unique is the fact that she is the earliest known [non-anonymous] poet and author in the entire world. (That’s right, the earliest known poet/author is a woman!) Her mother was most likely Sumerian, her father was Sargon of Akkad. However, she is sometimes also listed as the wife of the moon god Nanna. (Father of Inanna)

Excerpt from the Exaltation of Inanna:

At your battle-cry, my lady, the foreign lands bow low. When humanity comes before you in awed silence at the terrifying radiance and tempest, you grasp the most terrible of all the divine powers. Because of you, the threshold of tears is opened, and people walk along the path of the house of great lamentations. In the van of battle, all is struck down before you. With your strength, my lady, teeth can crush flint. You charge forward like a charging storm. You roar with the roaring storm, you continually thunder with Ickur. You spread exhaustion with the stormwinds, while your own feet remain tireless. With the lamenting balaj drum a lament is struck up.

The poetry of Enheduanna, such as the Exaltation of Inanna, are older than the Egyptian book of the dead, the IChing, and the Hebrew bible. Her writings, mostly about the goddess Inanna, helped shape the culture and language of the time period. Being highly influential, she assisted in uniting north and south Mesopotamia with her authorship by trying to unify the city states through worship. The goddess Inanna, one of the more complex and important of Mesopotamian gods, arose to great prominence because of Enheduanna’s writings. She even called upon the goddess against a male usurper!

You can read more about Enheduanna by following this link.

I meant to post this here.

-X

inkskinned:

the gods are not dead. when men speak to me like i can’t read, i feel athena awaken somewhere in my bone structure. her mouth spits words i had forgotten i memorized, facts from the deep pockets of libraries. she revels in the way they stutter at the quickness of my tongue, whispers, here’s what it feels to be above the cities. i know demeter for the way i feel in dirt, i catch sunlight in my palms and beg people to be disgusted at girl unhaunted by pretty, my hair a mess and my legs hairy and my body thick. i’ve kissed aphrodite, i’ve met her not in lust only but in the girl who listens like she is tied to your soul. she comes out and we go dancing, unashamed of our sexuality. i have even been her, once or twice, on rare moons where the stars aligned. i know the rage of artemis. i hunt those who hurt my sisters, i slay demons, i run in night with red lips. and i am persephone, always, goddess of the spring, goddess of the pomegranate, of wanting, of riding her own horse to hades, of being two queens. when men take power from me, i hear her whispering. take it back, she says, tongue sweet, ambrosia in the blood stream, take back your city.

the gods are not dead. they live in women. they live in me.

honorthegods:

“Helen is not of Troy
and not of Sparta.
She does not live in the towers of burning Ilium,
or the ruined palaces of once-great Greece–
No, she is found between the folds of history over and over and over again. Blamed and de-famed and cruelly scorned,
She is every woman who bears the burden
of the faults of men and gods. She is all of us–
History repeating itself,
maybe to punish
maybe to teach
maybe to remind
But it does not matter–
Whatever might be the ill-taught lesson,
the shouts of the imprisoned and deprived
are forever lost in the clanging of weapons,
false pride
and forgotten women. Sing, o goddess, the rage of Helen
–which launched not a thousand ships
but was stifled and silenced by a war fought wrongly in her honour.”

— sing, o goddess, the rage of helen | by prithvi. p (via ode-to-the-written-world)