Civilization - Tumblr Posts
I play civilization and let's just say that gandi is a problem
What she says: I’m fine What she means: Gandhi was a racist, misogynist, sexist who said that the rape of a woman was her own fault. He slept with naked underage girls to test his celibacy and degraded them to mere sex objects. He talked foul things about his own wife, said that menstruation was the manifestation of the distortion of a woman’s soul, and yet he’s praised by the world for ‘bringing peace’.
“The mayan legacy, Tikal / Guatemala .â€
Mes moments Shazam n°23: Baba Yetu - Christopher Tin
(Shazamé via l'écran titre du jeu "Civilization IV")
Временное мышление все время мечется вперед-назад над океаном воспоминаний и предчувствий, то и дело возвращаясь к призрачному острову, который мы называем «я». #тайнакоторойнет #тонипарсонс #palace #minos on #crete #island #civilization #fresco
"erm actually America shouldnt get involved in other wars"
no, really we should for the main fact that if the fascists win, they'll eventually come for America.
because America is the arms dealer, and has been for a damned long time. we are a military superpower. of course fascists want that kind of power in their hands, so eventually they will attack America. or even worse, try to manipulate us into doing their bidding.
so yeah, in my opinion, America probably should get involved.
Civilisation is only wafer-thin.
Satan more or less
Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?
Fortunately, penguins are always well-dressed, which is something you sometimes miss with idiots.
There's another cruel difference: penguins 🐧 eventually die out, idiots don't.
mod
On my own behalf, I always enjoy reading your blog @x-heesy
It might be worth considering that alcohol and drugs could also be an imaginative alternative. After all, it's not as if everyone does drugs, is it?
mod
It can be disheartening to witness the regression in which our civilization finds itself. If we take a moment to reflect, we can gain a deeper understanding of the loss of knowledge from antiquity to the Middle Ages.
We seem to be becoming more and more brutal in our dealings with each other. There seems to be a growing tendency to lie, cheat, and manipulate, and even wars are once again being used as a means of obtaining power.
It is perhaps worth reflecting on the fact that, despite the considerable length of our civilization's history, we have not yet learned all that we could from it.
It could be argued that we are perhaps not as intelligent as we could be.
It is becoming increasingly likely that the possibility of a slow decline of civilisation is a real and present danger. History shows us that civilisations come and go, but if the overall living conditions become so unpleasant, it is unlikely that a new civilisation will emerge.
mod
Never has a downfall been so colourful.
Thank you R.J. Soy
"They were just Styrofoam."
No one will say that the matrix has been broken? How many years and theories have we read or watched? In life, gigantic things that seem impossible are accomplished in the greatest simplicity.
How often are obstacles fruits in our own consciousness?
"Eram só isopores". Ninguém vai dizer que a matrix foi rompida? Quantos anos e teorias nós já lemos ou assistimos? Na vida, coisas gigantescas que parecem impossíveis, são realizadas na maior simplicidade. Quantas vezes os obstáculos são frutos na nossa propria consciência?
Não temos a resposta sobre esse evento, mas temos a certeza que gerações passarão.
Inro to Sumer 101
In, two, three, four, Out, two, three, four.
Alright. I want you to do a little thought experiment with me, if you would. I'm no good at guided meditation or making an engaging essay without tangents. What I can do is write. I can, if only for a moment, show you a different perspective.
So I want you to breathe, and I want you to feel the dust beneath your feet.
The sun is high and blazing against the dust of the road, glaring against the side of mud brick walls. The air is too dry on your tongue, but the shadows are cool, and the narrow jumble of alleys limits the reach of the sun's claws. A shoulder knocks into you, children ducking past your hips, someone's balancing a thick clay pot on their head, there are people everywhere flowing through the strangled capillaries of the city and dozens of black-haired heads bobbing past narrow doorways. The dust of the road grinds beneath your sandal. You duck past a few clusters of people and a snogging couple to take a few well-travelled haphazard alleys, and pop out on the edge of town to get your bearings as you shade your blinking eyes.
Deeper into the city rises a mountain of power, rising towards the sky like the swell of the sea. Three tiered layers of raw labor and artistic skill, several tons of brick gleaming with glaze like fine lapis-lazuli and crowned with a searingly white temple. This is the ziggurat connecting heaven and earth. It's also, conveniently, the best landmark in town. Given the angle, the temple lands given to sharecropping and pasture are probably behind you.
That business is where the money is, and you'd probably have done better for yourself if you'd taken that road. You didn't have the financial backing to try for scribal school, though your mother keeps talking about trying to marry you into a family that can afford it. It sounds easier than basket-making, anyway.
Bearings found, you make your way back into the tangle of streets again at a light jog, dust puffing over your sandals. Your purse thumps lightly against your hip, silver coils jingling a little, and you press a hand down to keep them quiet. First order of business is....
The crush of people thickens, thickens, and then relaxes as the space widens. The market is a clutter of pots, goats, people, and shouting, sweat and hot dust thick on the air. Bright textiles glare brilliantly from two or three stalls, a pile of clucking cages a few feet from where you're standing. Determined, you duck into the throng. Pottery stall, carpenter's stall, foreign spices, baskets of fish glittering in the afternoon sun. Finally, you spot the mason's shop and struggle past a knot of unmarried girls eyeing the fisher's boy. This stall isn't as claustrophobic, but there are one or two people lingering. The mason with worn hands and deeply wrinkled eyes looks up and smiles. Most of what's on display are little statues. People, animals, even a beautiful flat carving of a reed boat. You explain what you need, and he produces a tiny basalt dog the size of your fist from a basket. You bring out the coil of metal, break off a few rings, and hand them over. He weighs them, nods, and pulls out a few tools to write "For the life of Eman" on the base. That done, you take your purchase with gratitude and start the long jog to the temple gates.
Eman has been sick for a week or so, sweating and coughing until she choked, but the demon had finally left her and you know exactly who to thank for her survival.
Winding alleys, dust, chatter, dogs and children getting underfoot, and your thighs burn a little from the uphill work but you finally make it. The temple grounds are busy too, but there's more order to it. It's also a lot... cleaner than what you're used to.
A priest spots you lingering hesitantly at the gates of the temple district and comes to meet you. You explain that this dog statue is an offering to the goddess Gula, pass over a few rings of silver, and the priest takes it with a small smile and well-wishes for your family. You watch him go, the swish of his robes disappearing through a doorway, and breathe a long sigh.
It's done. Better get moving if you want to stop by the baker's before the dinner rush.
Separation of church and state is a relatively modern thing, and the temple in ancient Sumer was also heavily involved in local business. The most wealthy businessmen? Ranchers and farmers. Lahar and Ashnan, the goddesses of livestock and grain respectively, were very minor but very essential to Sumerian life. You can read about them in the Debate between Sheep and Grain. For more about ranchers and farmers, see Inanna Chooses the Farmer. As for illness, that was usually either demons/ghosts/spirits acting out, or acting in line with a decree from the gods. Here we have someone thanking the healing goddess. Most people never actually entered a temple beyond the courtyard, and definitely not if they were ill. The logic is probably to keep the demon from latching on to anyone else, spreading the virus or what have you.
We know very little of how home shrines functioned, so most modern Sumerian Polytheists downsize the formal temple rituals we have record of. Again, most people weren't actually priests, so we can't exactly put a cycling shifts on our altars or sing praises every hour on the hour. Temples had staff for a reason, and we're only a scattered few. But Mesopotamia was the root of civilization, and the gods govern the gears that keep progress going. From the most essential basics of grain and livestock, to the costly luxury of schooling, the gods have a presence in our lives. We are our own, but we also belong to the gods, and what they ask in return for their sponsorship is service. You can read more about it in Enki and Ninmah, and Enki and the World Order. Do the gods absolutely require our service, are they dependent on us? No. But just like we prefer grocery shopping to hunting and gathering, the gods like offerings. Our personal gods look over our shoulders, our city gods look over our community. Sometimes demons muck things up. Sometimes we muck things up, and that gives demons all the excuse they need to remind us that we're only human. And we are only human. We struggle, we spit, we steal, we tangle in the nets and drown.
But the world order still remains. It's existed for centuries in many forms, beneath all of the bells and whistles we've embroidered it with. Through respect and basic human decency you can earn quite a bit more than you might think. Sumerian Polytheism is about the little links that tie us together. Even I, a jobless urban hermit, have a toe in the water, and my actions ripple outward through the sea of civilization, no matter how small.
Take a look at who you are, your talents, your potential, and chase everything you could be with everything that you are. Be the best you. You've heard it in a thousand platitudes, in a thousand Hallmark cards, probably from your parents at some point. There's a reason for that. Carpe diem. Do the thing, because the worst sort of disappointment is letting yourself down. Don't take yourself for granted, and I have a hunch that the gods won't either.
That's my introduction to Sumerian Polytheism.
»Shimla, also known as Simla, is the capital and the largest city of the Indian state of Himachal Pradesh. In 1864, Shimla was declared as the summer capital of British India. After independence, the city became the capital of Punjab and was later made the capital of Himachal Pradesh. It is the principal commercial, cultural and educational centre of the state. It was the capital city of British Burma (present-day Myanmar) from 1942 to 1945. . . . #shimla #himachalpradesh #india #travel #city #sky #vrvkrm #color #clouds #vibrant #himachal #world #journey #beautiful #colors #colorful #place #destination #scenic #culture #civilization #population #people #crowd #house #house #architecture (at Shimla) https://www.instagram.com/p/CF2p9nFhYDW/?igshid=1b7h1u3hfkogh
Civilization 6 - Reinforcements
Civilization 6 - Four Horsemen of Hypocrisy
Civilization 6 - Disloyalty
Civilization 6 - Warmonger
