Category: Popculch

Six (maybe) Degrees of Separation A-Rod to rogueclassicist

~ David Meadows ~ rogueclassicist ~ Leave a comment

Okay … even though I really don’t like baseball, I did get all excited when a piece from Newsday landed in my box beginning thusly:

Alex Rodriguez made his first visit since December to new Yankee Stadium on Friday night and instantly proclaimed it the finest structure since the Roman emperor Titus opened the Colosseum in 80 A.D. with a festival that lasted 100 days.

“Those Romans,” A-Rod said. “They knew how to party.”

… but then it went on to say:

OK, so A-Rod didn’t mention Titus or the Colosseum or talk about the Romans at all. We made that up.

Dang … so to console myself, I dug up Dio’s (66.25 ff)description of the opening of the Flavian Amphitheatre (via Lacus Curtius) … enjoy:

Most that he did was not characterized by anything noteworthy, but in dedicating the hunting-theatre and the baths that bear his name he produced many remarkable spectacles. There was a battle between cranes and also between four elephants; animals both tame and wild were slain to the number of nine thousand; and women (not those of any prominence, however) took part in despatching them. As for the men, several fought in single combat and several groups contended together both in infantry and naval battles. For Titus suddenly filled this same theatre with water and brought in horses and bulls and some other domesticated animals that had been taught to behave in the liquid element just as on land. He also brought in people on ships, who engaged in a sea-fight there, impersonating the Corcyreans and Corinthians; and others gave a similar exhibition outside the city in the grove of Gaius and Lucius, a place which Augustus had once excavated for this very purpose. There, too, on the first day there was a gladiatorial exhibition and wild-beast hunt, the lake in front of the images having first been covered over with a platform of planks and wooden stands erected around it. On the second day there was a horse-race, and on the third day a naval battle between three thousand men, followed by an infantry battle. The “Athenians” conquered the “Syracusans” (these were the names the combatants used), made a landing on the islet8 and assaulted and captured a wall that had been constructed around the monument. These were the spectacles that were offered, and they continued for a hundred days; but Titus also furnished some things that were of practical use to the people. He would throw down into the theatre from aloft little wooden balls variously inscribed, one designating some article of food, another clothing, another a silver vessel or perhaps a gold one, or again horses, pack-animals, cattle or slaves. Those who seized them were to carry them to the dispensers of the bounty, from whom they would receive the article named.

After he had finished these exhibitions, and had wept so bitterly on the last day that all the people saw him, he performed no other deed of importance; but the next day, in the consulship of Flavius and Pollio, after the dedication of the buildings mentioned, he passed away at the same watering-place that had been the scene of his father’s death. The common report is that he was put out of the way by his brother, for Domitian had previously plotted against him; but some writers state that he died a natural death.

Earlier in the epitome of book 66, Dio tells of Vespasian’s passing at the Aquae Cutiliae; the frigid waters there were said by Pliny (31.6) to be good for your tummy and other assorted body parts:

sed Cutiliae in Sabinis gelidissimae suctu quodam corpora invadunt, ut prope morsus videri possit, aptissimae stomacho, nervis, universo corpori.

… and of course, your rogueclassicist is usually imbibing Fiuggi water with his espresso as he composes these squibs; the source of Fiuggi water is a bit south of that of the Aquae Cutiliae.

In any event … A-Rod > Colosseum > Dio’s Account of the opening> Titus dies at Aquae Cutiliae > the waters at AC were good for you > so is Fiuggi, which is part of the rogueclassicist’s morning ritual. That seems to be six … (too much time on my hands this a.m., obviously).

Lysistratidai

~ David Meadows ~ rogueclassicist ~ 1 Comment

Hmmm … imitations of the Lysistrata’s ‘sex strike’ seem to be happening more and more, so maybe we’ll start keeping a closer eye on them. The latest comes from Kenya, where women are “boycotting sex” (is “withholding their cervixes” offensive?) “to push for reforms and constitutional review”. Increasingly (as noted on the Classics list), there seems to be no connection made to the Classical precedent, alas. Here’s some representative coverage:

A couple weeks ago, we mentioned in passing a post at Spectre Footnotes, which also seems to be gathering these things. There’s also a nice piece at Experience A.R.T. (which does make the Lysistrata connecton) on same. Naturally there will be some duplication of items in those places and what follows, of course.

In December 2008, Neapolitan women threatened same in an attempt to prevent fireworks injuries (!):

In April 2008, an Orthodox feminist group in Israel was encouraging a somewhat indirect version … suggesting women don’t bathe until mikveh workers were paid:

Back in 2006, women in the Columbian city of Pereira staged a similar strike in an attempt to get their hubbies to not be so criminal:

In November 2003, Cameroon women brought to an end a three-month strike aimed at encouraging their hubbies to end their scrapping about grazing rights:

In 2002, Sudanese women attempted to use their strike to end the war there:

In 2001, women in the Turkish village of Sirt went on ‘strike’ in an effort to get their water supply fixed:

In 1996, women in the town of Palestina in Brazil appropriately called a sex strike until their partners were tested for HIV:

Sadly, I suspect this post will result in rogueclassicism being blocked in assorted places …

Tomb of Cicero’s Daughter?

~ David Meadows ~ rogueclassicist ~ 3 Comments

In light of all the Cleo hype (about which I’ll probably have more to add later), it’s interesting perhaps to direct the readers of rogueclassicism to an interesting section of Lanciani in which he describes an amazing discovery in Rome from 1485 (hat tip to Man of Roma for this) … here’s a useful excerpt (via Lacus Curtius):

There have been so many accounts published by modern writersin reference to this extraordinary event that it may interest my readers to learn the truth by reviewing the evidence as it stands in its original simplicity. I shall only quote such authorities as enable us to ascertain what really took place on that memorable day. The case is in itself so unique that it does not need amplification or the addition of imaginary details. Let us first consult the diary of Antonio di Vaseli:—
(f. 48.) “To‑day, April 19, 1485, the news came into Rome, that a body buried a thousand years ago had been found in a farm of Santa Maria Nova, in the Campagna, near the Casale Rotondo. . . . (f. 49.) The Conservatori of Rome despatched a coffin to Santa Maria Nova elaborately made, and a company of men for the transportation of the body into the city. The body has been placed for exhibition in the Conservatori palace, and large crown of citizens and noblemen have gone to see it. The body seems to be covered with a glutinous substance, a mixture of myrrh and other precious ointments, which attract swarms of bees. The said body is intact. The hair is long and thick; the eyelashes, eyes, nose, and ears are spotless, as well as the nails. It appears to be the body of a woman, of good size; and her head is covered with a light cap of woven gold thread, very beautiful. The teeth are white and perfect; the flesh and the tongue retain their natural color; but if the glutinous substance is washed off, the flesh blackens in less than an hour. Much care has been taken in searching the tomb in which the corpse was found, in the hope of discovering the epitaph, with her name; it must be an illustrious one, because none but a noble and wealthy person could afford to be buried in such a costly sarcophagus thus filled with precious ointments.”

Translation of a letter of messer Daniele da San Sebastiano, dated MCCCCLXXXV

“In the course of excavations which were made on the Appian Way, to find stones and marbles, three marble tombs have been discovered during these last days, sunk twelve feet below ground. One was of Terentia Tulliola, daughter of Cicero; the other had no epitaph. One of them contained a young girl, intact in all her members, covered from head to foot with a coating of aromatic paste, one inch thick. On the removal of this coating, which we believe to be composed of myrrh, frankincense, aloe, and other priceless drugs, a face appeared, so lovely, so pleasing, so attractive, that, although the girl had certainly been dead fifteen hundred years, she appeared to have been laid to rest that very day. The thick masses of hair, collected on the top of the head in the old style, seemed to have been combed then and there. The eyelids could be opened and shut; the ears and the nose were so well preserved that, after being bent to one side or the other, they instantly resumed their original shape. By pressing the flesh of cheeks the color would disappear as in a living body. The tongue could be seen through the pink lips; the articulation of the hands and feet still retained their elasticity. The whole of Rome, men and women, to the number of twenty thousand, visited the marvel of Santa Maria Nova that day. I hasten to inform you of this event, because I want you to understand how the ancients took care to prepare not only their souls but also their bodies for immortality. I am sure that if you had the privilege of beholding that lovely young face, your pleasure would have equalled your astonishment.”

Long time readers of rogueclassicism might have their memory tweaked to a post I did a few years ago on so-called Ever Burning Lamps, which cited the American Chronicle for, inter alia:

In about 1540, during the Papacy of Paul III a burning lamp was found in a tomb on the Appian Way at Rome. The tomb was believed to belong to Tulliola, the daughter of Cicero. She died in 44 B.C. The lamp that had burned in the sealed vault for 1,550 years was extinguished when exposed to the air. Interesting about this particular discovery is also the unknown transparent liquid in which the deceased was floating. By putting the body in this liquid, the ancients managed to preserve the corpse in such a good condition that it appeared as if death had occurred only a few days ago.

By an interesting bit of synchonicity, t’other day I also came across a suitable skeptical article on these ‘perpetual’ lamps in an issue of Saturday Magazine from 1842 … the ‘tomb of Tulliola’ is al mentioned in a couple of clippings:

Text not available
The Saturday magazine

Text not available
The Saturday magazine

I’m sure I could crawl the web and find zillions of other examples; the sad thing to note, though, is that despite skepticism in regards to identities of folks in tombs and the like, and despite obvious chronological difficulties with discovery of evidence and the like, folks will still believe occupants are whoever they want them to be … alas.

The Spartafication Continues

~ David Meadows ~ rogueclassicist ~ Leave a comment

Hmmm …  first we had the 300 workout, designed to get our abs (etc.) looking like some guys hanging out at Thermopylae, now we hear (via amicus noster John McChesney-Young) that there’s an actual Spartan Diet program … although the rogueclassicist could stand to embark on both of these, I suspect he won’t in the very near future (although he does take grapeseed extract for allergy reasons and has already recognized the importance of coffee for the Spartans) …

Performing Thucydides

~ David Meadows ~ rogueclassicist ~ Leave a comment

This one was mentioned on the Classics list last week but I didn’t note by whom (apologies) … Some excerpts from a lengthy piece in the San Antonio Current:

Our cities grow in size, our awareness of the world around us increases, technology steadily advances, but some things remain immutable, chief among them human nature. The cliché says those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it, but perhaps it’s less a problem of knowledge than our own inherent failings and short-sightedness. Though airwaves abound with cop reality shows and courtroom dramas, crime abides. Ancient religious teachings continue to be used as justifications for violence. And, despite the many fruitless wars revisited in texts dating back thousands of years, we still plunge into quagmires with logic-defying frequency, suggesting rationality has nothing to do with it at all.

These are a few of the insights gleaned from Athens v. Sparta, a fascinating 15-track musical condensation of the Peloponnesian War based on Thucydides and Xenophon’s recounting of the conflict. A combination pop-opera, Greek drama, modern allegory, and historical CliffsNotes created by Trinity University history grad and musician Charlie Roadman, the album resonates on several levels and is likely unlike anything you’ve ever heard. It details how Athens’ cultural hubris, faltering democracy, self-serving oligarchs, indifference to its allies, and ill-considered military adventurism resulted in a war doomed by poor prosecution and overextended forces.

[…]

The album intersperses narration from Thucydides’ text, read by Ken Webster, creative director of Austin’s Hyde Park Theatre, with singing by Kevin Higginbotham and atmospheric backdrops painted with guitar strums, effervescing loops, skittering beats, and shimmery washes of melody that melt easily into the woodwork. Roadman fashioned the music from the contributions of 19 musicians who call either Austin or San Antonio home. He describes it as “downtempo pop,” and it isn’t far removed for electronic chill-out music, giving the 2,400-year-old history lesson a ghostly futuristic sheen.
[…]

The album’s genesis goes back to 1991, when Roadman and Buttercup singer Erik Sanden were assigned Thucydides and Xenophon’s couple-thousand-page tome, and blew off reading it until three days before the final. Justifiably concerned, they crammed by reading alternate chapters then recounting the events to each other, effectively halving the assignment. The story stuck with them, and eight years ago Sanden bought Roadman the definitive edition of the text, The Landmark Thucydides, edited by Robert Strassler.

This encouraged Roadman to write a song about Pericles’ funeral oration, a rabble-rousing rant that provoked the Athenians into war, reminding them of their glorious history and suggesting that “judging happiness to be the fruit of freedom, and freedom of valor, never decline the dangers of war.” It was still more a lark than obsession at this point. “I was just writing songs about whatever amused me, history, news, or National Geographic,” Roadman says.

A few years later, he wrote another song based on the Peloponnesian War, “Life in the Spartan Army,” and then another, and decided to dedicate an entire album to the war. Comparing it to Christo wrapping the Reichstag, he admits that, “I pretty much knew it was an absurd thing, and that’s what attracted me to it. Just the absurdity of doing something I was laughing about the second I thought about it.”
[…]

The finished product impressed everyone involved, many of whom had only played on part of the album, and hence couldn’t see the big picture. Roadman held an initial CD release in Austin, which sold out and concluded with a standing ovation. Webster echoes many of the participants when he says, “I didn’t know there would be that kind of an audience for it.”
[…]
This is Roadman’s hope as well. He’s already booked to play the Texas Classical Association Conference in Austin in October, and is considering putting together a study guide to go with the disc. He’s hoping that it will engender more conference invitations. “That sort of appeals to me, because, after playing, instead of sleeping in a van we get to stay in a nice hotel,” he says.[…]