The ‘Rise’ of Rome.
Lesson.
Modern times are exceedingly boring. Even you must know how whiny you have become, how small. As a race you’ve become your own boring relative, showing up drunk and reeking wherever you’re not welcome. It’s hard on someone like me who has to live through it over and over, you can’t blame me for finding past versions of you far more interesting.
Modern evil involves plastic, silicon, female government reps wearing suits, census takers, nursing homes and supermarkets. Modern evil is owned by giants you can never hope to defeat, Amazon, Apple, Google, Meta, and their milky white founders, buying their way to heaven. And China. The list is long and unattractive.
By all means, God, take them. It’s just too sticky for me.
I am a connoisseur of evil, of character, of beauty, of music, of words, of hate, of darkness, no, I am master of that one. Of life in its most elemental form, coming and leaving, it’s a pure vision, untainted by everything in between. A connoisseur of death, certainly. And of sin, it goes well with my good wines.
Stories. I am a master and an apprentice, always hunting for them, making them up sometimes, using my powerful tail to sweep your face clean when I want to, so I can write my own story on it. Look in the mirror, it’s already written in your skin, you were born to it, like all mortal creatures. Fear is a road that leads to me, in the end.
God, in his infinite wisdom, gives me great coverage, I get as much play time as he does, probably more. People have always been obsessed with sin; they know where to look for its master. I’m a star in the bible, evil personified, though old testament God gives me a run for my money.
The other great evil, Almighty Rome. Fabled city of Emperors and other demons sent by one of us to plague true believers. Volumes have been written for and against the Roman Empire, some of them worth reading, even.
Here’s a teaser, for those of you with low attention spans, and I recommend you read Both Pandoric sentences to cure you of that fatal flaw. A tiny esoteric bit of knowledge that will delight you, as it delighted me when I heard it.
When you own half the known world you need some interesting antecedents. Great founding stories, every significant city has one. Beat this, New York.
Starts with a King, with a name like Tarchetius, who finds favour with the gods. A miracle takes place, in his chimney appears the vision of a large penis, my source is unclear as to whether this penis is made of flames, likely, given the location, or something else. A divine manifestation of some sort, the gods give permission for his daughter to have congress with it. She refuses and is imprisoned, like many young maidens before and after her.
She is told she will be freed if she weaves a proper cloth, no reason for this task, that’s the task she and her sister are given. During the night the King’s men undo what has been woven. (Sound familiar? Read the Odyssey if it doesn’t. Story tellers are all recyclers.)
Fathers are assholes. Daughter ends up pregnant, with twins, who are sent to be destroyed, who knows who fucked her? They are saved by a loyal servant and sent downriver in a basket…
Yes, uncanny how many times things like that happen.
The baby boys are grounded, suckled by wolves and fed crumbs by tiny birds. They live to grow up unbeatable, with manly powers to equal Hercules. One of them kills the other, Romulus having robbed his brother Remus of testosterone in the womb. Thus he founds Roma, using a plow guided by his own hands to mark the boundaries.
He gathers to himself an army to defend it, they get lonely and steal some women. A story for another day, children.
“Godhead” by Cloud Boat
“Matter (Revel)” by Arcane Roots I am the best God, for your money.