“When I was sixteen, I won a great victory. I felt in that moment I would live to be a hundred. Now I know I shall not see thirty.
None of us know our end, really, or what hand will guide us there. A king may move a man, a father may claim a son, but that man can also move himself, and only then does that man truly begin his own game.
Remember that howsoever you are played or by whom, your soul is in your keeping alone, even though those who presume to play you be kings or men of power.
When you stand before God, you cannot say, “But I was told by others to do thus,” or that virtue was not convenient at the time. This will not suffice. Remember that.” – King Baldwin IV, Kingdom of Heaven.
King Baldwin suffered from leprosy, plaguing him from a young age, he would fight wars and rule Jerusalem despite this illness, and die at the age of 24.
Between 1945 and 1947, 18 people were injected with plutonium, six with uranium, five with polonium, and at least one with americium by the Manhattan Project medical team. Only one of the subjects signed a consent form. The rest had no idea what was being injected into them. Reports show that many of the low-level physicians themselves were unaware of the exact substance they were injecting into patients.
These human subjects were essentially used as guinea pigs and calibration devices.
It was very important, you see. They needed to understand the dangers facing Manhattan Project workers and how to protect them. They were, of course, developing a weapon to eviscerate over 100,000 Japanese civilians. There is even evidence that Oppenheimer himself approved shipments of plutonium and uranium to be used for medical research.
During these experiments, the follow-up research was not thorough. Samples were contaminated or destroyed in transport on multiple occasions, and the ethical issues involved were essentially ignored.
The physicians involved knew that the procedures had no therapeutic benefits and would be detrimental in the long run if the patients lived. Human experimentation was justified because it was claimed that the patients were terminally ill; however, this was not true in all cases. Repeated errors in diagnosis, procedure, documentation, and research were made.
Fun fact: This was not known to the public until 30 years ago.
The Government covered up most of these radiation mishaps until 1993, when President Bill Clinton ordered a change of policy. Federal agencies then made available records dealing with human radiation experiments.
It is important to understand the lengths your Government will go to if those in charge believe it to be within their self-interest. They will lie, cheat, deceive, and straight up harm those that get in their way (or that they need for a simple human radiation experiment), and the public won’t find out for decades, and nobody will be held accountable.
I shouldn’t have to remind you that this same Government is still in charge today. Although the Manhattan Project may have been disbanded, Government agencies just like it still exist and operate today.
Who knows what is currently in development behind closed doors, who is being experimented on, and what atrocities are being committed today? If the past is any indication of the future, we won’t know for another 50 years what is currently going on.
I think when we look back on stories like this, it becomes increasingly obvious that those in Government, especially the unelected, top-secret kind, cannot be trusted. Those who still advocate expanding, maintaining, or doing anything other than drastically dissolving the Government and its unaccountable agencies absolutely baffle me.
Transparency, consent, and accountability are tantamount to a free and flourishing society. Maintaining an incentive structure that often results in the opposite seems like a catastrophically bad idea.
Want to know the difference between the Ancient Greeks and the Ancient Romans? Just look at their statues.
Art always tells you what a society wants to believe about itself.
So, from the Soviet Union to the Marvel Cinematic Universe, here’s what art says about who we are…
We begin in Ancient Greece, with an Athenian statue from the 5th century BC.
Here is the victor of an athletic contest. What do we see?
This is not a specific individual; it is a generic, idealised face and body.
The same is true for many Greek statues from the 5th and 4th centuries BC.
Their faces and bodies are not intended to be those of real people. Rather, they represent the Greek ideal of what a human being can be, and what a human ought to aspire to become.
And even when a specific person is portrayed, and we can clearly see the features of a recognisable individual, they are still idealised.
Lysippos’ bust of Alexander was praised for how it maintained his appearance and personality while also giving it a god-like countenance.
Now, for contrast, look at statues from the Ancient Roman Republic, in this case from the 2nd and 1st centuries BC.
The difference is striking. There is no idealisation here, no attempt to portray human beauty. These are the real faces of real people, warts and wrinkles and all.
And this makes sense. For the Ancient Romans poverty was a virtue. They thought of themselves as hard-headed, honest, vigorous people.
To have a weatherbeaten face, worn with age and work, was a sign of wisdom and of virtue.
The ideal Roman was simple, not beautiful.
And so the Romans were uneasy about the Greeks.
When Ancient Greek art first arrived in Rome, along with Greek philosophy, many people called it decadent, luxurious, and corrupting.
But, in the end, Greek culture won and the Romans were thoroughly Hellenised.
It may be true that the Romans weren’t actually the sort of honest, down-to-earth people they wanted to seem like in their art.
But this makes it more interesting: these statues reflect what they wanted to be, even more than what they really were.
And this doesn’t stop with the Greeks and the Romans.
It has always been true that we can trust a society’s art more than what they said about themselves to figure out who they were and what was important to them.
First and foremost through what it depicts…
The art of Ancient Mesopotamia was filled with bulls and sheep; we may conclude that this was an agricultural society.
In Ancient Egypt, meanwhile, we find monumental statues of Pharaohs; it seems clear that these were figures who possessed almost unimaginable power.
In the lead up to the French Revolution there was a major shift in French art.
Throughout the 18th century it was rather frivolous, hedonistic depictions of the aristocracy that had dominated art, as in the work of Jean-Honoré Fragonard.
But soon it was scenes from Ancient Roman history that became popular, as in the work of Jacques-Louis David.
Notice too the stylistic shift: from bright colours and loose brushwork to harsh lines and more severity.
Times were clearly changing — revolution followed.
It’s no coincidence that Horatio Greenough’s statue of George Washington, made in 1832, portrays America’s first President as a Classical hero.
The Founding Fathers saw themselves as the inheritors of Greece and Rome.
Art, once again, expressing self-perception.
In the 19th century it was normal to make statues of politicians and generals — consider Nelson’s Column in London, built in honour of Admiral Nelson.
This might either tell us politicians and generals were held in higher regard back then, or simply indicate who held most power.
In the 21st century? Statues of sporting stars are far more common than statues of politicians or generals.
Perhaps it indicates how much more democratic we have become, when the real heroes of the people — rather than those who simply hold power — are revered the most.
What did Soviet art depict? One of two things: either the political leaders, as in this colossal and now-demolished statue of Stalin.
Or the workers, as in the huge Worker and Kolkhoz Woman statue.
Art and artists in service of the state.
The portrayal of working people in art was nothing new — the difference came in how they were depicted.
Jean-François Millet’s The Gleaners, an early example of Realism, portrays workers in a wholly unidealised way.
As opposed to Soviet art, in which workers were heroised.
Throughout the Middle Ages and the Renaissance there were endless paintings of Mary and Jesus.
That these were deeply religious societies is clear, but look at how much these paintings differ stylistically.
Art also tells us how a society sees and understands the world.
Medieval art was much less “realistic”, but this changed during the Renaissance.
One style represents a more distant and symbolic understanding of the world, while the other suggests a proto-scientific one, in which the world exists to be investigated and understood.
Much Western art of the 20th century, from Surrealism to Abstract Expressionism, seems to indicate an uncertainty about the world, about reality, and even about humankind.
Strange, incomprehensible, discomforting.
An accurate reflection of how many feel about modern life?
Of course, the most popular art forms of the 21st century are cinema and television, and most popular of all are superheroes.
Is it a form of honest escapism? Or do we want to believe that, like our superheroes, we are in some way special and different from everybody else?
And so art also expresses social anxieties.
19th century Romanticism was a reaction against the Enlightenment and the Industrial Revolution.
The Romantics preferred mystery, emotion, and nature to science, reason, and industry — they feared the effects of the latter.
Whether a renewed focus on the beauty of the natural world itself or a fascination with its cataclysmic power — which we, however clever we think ourselves, are helpless to resist — the message is clear.
Horror at the ongoing destruction of nature, literally and spiritually.
Actions speak louder than words, because actions result from choices, and choices are a consequence of priorities and intentions.
Art — making it and consuming it — is action. And so through art we can read into those choices, priorities, and intentions.
What a society believes in, how it sees itself, what it wants to be — art tells us all of this.
What a society feared, how it worked, who held power — art also tells us this.
And so, if we want to understand the 21st century, art might be the best way to do so…
Five signers were captured by the British as traitors, and tortured before they died. Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned. Two lost their sons in the revolutionary army, another had two sons captured. Nine of the 56 fought and died from wounds or hardships of the revolutionary war. They signed and they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.
What kind of men were they? Twenty-four were lawyers and jurists. Eleven were merchants, nine were farmers and large plantation owners, men of means, well educated. But they signed the Declaration of Independence knowing full well that the penalty would be death if they were captured. Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships swept from the seas by the British Navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts, and died in rags.
Thomas McKeam was so hounded by the British that he was forced to move his family almost constantly. He served in the Congress without pay, and his family was kept in hiding. His possessions were taken from him, and poverty was his reward. Vandals or soldiers or both, looted the properties of Ellery, Clymer, Hall, Walton, Gwinnett, Heyward, Ruttledge, and Middleton.
At the battle of Yorktown, Thomas Nelson Jr., noted that the British General Cornwallis had taken over the Nelson home for his headquarters. The owner quietly urged General George Washington to open fire. The home was destroyed, and Nelson died bankrupt.
Francis Lewis had his home and properties destroyed. The enemy jailed his wife, and she died within a few months.
John Hart was driven from his wife’s bedside as she was dying. Their 13 children fled for their lives. His fields and his gristmill were laid to waste. For more than a year he lived in forests and caves, returning home to find his wife dead and his children vanished. A few weeks later he died from exhaustion and a broken heart. Norris and Livingston suffered similar fates.
Such were the stories and sacrifices of the American Revolution. These were not wild eyed, rabble-rousing ruffians. They were soft-spoken men of means and education. They had security, but they valued liberty more. Standing tall, straight, and unwavering, they pledged: ‘For the support of this declaration, with firm reliance on the protection of the divine providence, we mutually pledge to each other, our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.’
In ancient Egyptian times, women were seen and honored as higher and holier than a man.
The woman is the mother of all, giving life and teaching.
The ancients believed that when a man achieves a great deal of knowledge, spirituality and power, he would be allowed to wear a long hair wig to symbolize that he had reached a certain level equal to a woman.
As the two come together she holds her man, giving him strength and protection.
There is a saying that continues to float today: “Behind every successful man there is a strong woman.” ❤️❤️
opensenseme 