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asterkid-deactivated20150106

tomorrow……… is august„„„„,?????

its augu…….st?? tomorrW???????????

8th monTH???????? 4 ,more mont hs of 2013?????????????

what??????????????????????????????………………………..

radicarian

The hoax took place in Florence in about 1409... The victim was a carpenter named Manetto, known as Il Grasso, "the Fat Man." Manetto specialized in carving ebony and owned a shop in the Piazza San Giovanni, not far from Filippo [Brunelleschi]'s house. He was prosperous and good-natured, but one day had the misfortune of incurring Filippo's ire after missing a social gathering. Never one to resist retaliation, Filippo resolved to exact his revenge for this perceived slight by persuading a wide cast of characters to convince Manetto that he had metamorphosed into someone else.... As Manetto closed his shop one evening, Filippo went to his house near the cathedral, picked the lock, slipped inside, and barred the door behind him. When Manetto arrived a few minutes later, he rattled the door and then, to his alarm, heard what sounded like his own voice (in fact, Filippo doing an impersonation) ordering him to go away. This impersonation was so convincing that eh retreated in bewilderment into the Piazza San Giovanni. There he met Donatello, who inexplicably addressed him as Matteo, and shortly afterward a bailiff, who likewise hailed him as Matteo and then promptly arrested him for debt. He was taken to the Stinche prison, where his name was entered in the jail book as Matteo. Even his fellow prisoners--all of them party to Filippo's prank--addressed him by this alien name. The carpenter spent a sleepless night, fretting over events but solacing himself with the thought that he was merely a victim of mistaken identity. This comfort evaporated the next morning when two strangers--the brothers of the real Matteo--arrived at the prison and claimed him as their kin. They paid his debt and liberated him, though not before chastising him for his supposed gambling and profligate living. More bewildered now than ever, he was escorted to Matteo's home on the other side of Florence, near Santa Felìcita, where his protests that he was not Matteo, but Manetto, appeared to fall on deaf ears.... He was then put to sleep with a potion supplied by Filippo and carried, unconscious, back across the river to his own home. He was laid on his bed in a reversed position, with his head at the foot and his feet at the head. Awakening many hours later, the poor carpenter was confused not merely by his position on the bed but also by the disarray of his house, for his tools had been completely rearranged. His perplexity grew with the arrival of Matteo's brothers... greeting him as Manetto and relating the curious story of how the previous evening their brother Matteo conceived the fantastic notion that he was someone else. The story was soon confirmed by Matteo himself--the real one--who arrived at Manetto's house to describe his puzzling dream of having been a carpenter. The disarray of the house was explained by the fact that in his dream Matteo noticed how his tools were out of order and in need of rearrangement.

Source: Brunelleschi's Dome, Ross King

What the hell was going on in 15th-century Florence. You miss a party and get elaborately mindfucked by a pissed-off goldsmith and his buddy Donatello. Manetto ended up moving to Hungary over this and who can blame him

#a bit harsh

salmonella-destroyer-of-worlds

Actual roman epitaph for a dog

disgruntled-foreign-patriarch

humans are the same

mornington-the-crescent

bedlamsbard

I’ve seen this one doing the rounds a few times (and it makes me cry every time I see it), but was curious about the original Latin text, so I did some digging: it’s a shortened version of CIL 10, 00659, a tombstone from Salernum (modern Salerno, Italy). (source; CIL is the Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum).

Portaui lacrimis madidus te, nostra catella,

Quod feci lustris laetior ante tribus.

Ergo mihi, Patrice, iam non dabis oscula mille

Nec poteris collo grata cubare meo.

Tristis marmorea posui te sede merentem

Et iunxi semper manib(us) ipse meis

Morib(us) argutis hominem simulare paratam,

Perdidimus quales hei mihi delicias.

Tu, dulcis Patrice, nostras attingere mensas

Consueras, gremio poscere blanda cibos,

Lambere tu calicem lingua rapiente solebas,

Quem tibi saepe meae sustinuere manus,

Accipere et lassum cauda gaudente frequenter

And here’s my translation:

Wet with tears I have carried you, our little (female) dog, just as I did in happier times fifteen years earlier (lit. “three periods of five years). For myself, Patrice, now you will not give me a thousand kisses nor will you be able to lie lovingly around/against my neck. I have sorrowfully placed you, merit-worthy, in a marble tomb and I have joined you always to myself in death, as by your cleverness you matched a human. Alas, we lost such pleasures for myself! You, sweet Patrice, were accustomed to join us at our table, to beg charmingly for food (while sitting in our) laps. You were in the habit of greedily licking our cups with your tongue, which my hands often held for you. Frequently and joyfully (you) receive a weary one with your (wagging) tail...

tl;dr: this dog was named Patrice and was very, very loved. (another translation with some glossing of the text.)

red-faced-wolf-deactivated20251

ospreyonthemoon

It's the fact she's joined to them in death, it's the fact that she sat in her owner's arms and ate their food. That he held the cups down for her to drink from....

Hundreds of years and we still know she was loved. We still know how she liked to sleep. All these years!! Loving dogs is the same!!!!

thaylepo

gonna point out too that 15 years is an INSANELY long lifespan for a dog in ancient Rome. This dog was both well loved and well cared for to have lived so long. Obvs there's going to be some statistical overlap with ancient dogs with loving epitaphs having longer lifespans, but in a world without modern vetrinary science or medicine, no canine vaccines, and no nutritionally formulated dog food, this Roman's beloved pooch exceeded even the average pet dog lifespan today.

#always reblog patrice

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Ahhhhhhhhhhh

Ahhhhhhhhhhh, who?

Werewolves of London

The secret of being happy consists of knowing how to enjoy yourself—enjoy being at table, in bed, enjoy standing up, sitting down, enjoy the nearest ray of sunshine, the slightest bit of landscape: in other words, love everything. Thus it follows that to be happy you must already be so there's no bread without leavening.

Gustave Flaubert, from a notebook entry written c. September 1839

jess-abides

This is it, this is the one

greek-orthodox-priest

went to miami to recover father sotirios. and made some new friends.

these animals... they are wise. I recruited them to avenge my dear brother. I was then escorted out of the sea world.

a-book-of-creatures

Better than the 1596 Marseille dolphin exorcism I suppose.

maxkowski

a-book-of-creatures

In 1596 dolphins were infesting the port of Marseille. Back in those days, y’see, dolphins didn’t have the cuddly image they enjoy today. They were pests and were causing damage.

So the cardinal of Avignon sent the bishop of Cavaillon to do something about them. In front of a huge crowd, the bishop sprinkled some holy water into the waters of the port and told the dolphins to begone. Whereupon the dolphins indeed turned tail in terror and fled, and were never seen again.

Still not as dramatic as Saint Bernard excommunicating the flies though.

melononthefloor

What happened to the flies?

a-book-of-creatures

Saint Bernard of Clairvaux built a monastery in 1124, but it was plagued by flies. So the good saint promptly excommunicated them. By the next day the flied had died in such quantities that they had to be shoveled out.

Still not as nutty as the Basel rooster trial though.

fatefulfindings

*everyone in unison* um what rooster trial?

a-book-of-creatures

In 1474, a rooster in Basel did the heinous and unspeakable act of laying an egg. As everyone knows, an egg laid by a rooster will hatch into a basilisk (or cockatrice).

So to avoid the creation of a cockatrice (or basilisk), the rooster was tried, found guilty, and burned at the stake along with its egg. A huge crowd was present.

The “rooster” in this case was likely a hen that had developed male characteristics (it happens).

Still not as properly legal as the Savigny pig trial though.

bonnettbee

Ok, clearly you want an excuse to talk about the pig thing, and I now DESPERATELY want to hear about the pig thing, so PLEASE tell us about the Pig Thing.

a-book-of-creatures

In 1457 a sow killed Jehan Martin, a five-year-old boy in Savigny. For that crime she was put on trial and judged guilty, and sentenced to be hanged from a tree.

Her piglets, however, were judged to have been innocent of the murder, and so were returned to the owner, with the caveat that he had to surrender them to the law if they were later found to have eaten any of the boy.

Not to be confused with a whole bunch of other, similar porcine trials.

I won’t mention the 1454 excommunication of eels in Lake Geneva then.

hemipelagicdredger

OK what did the eels do, and more pressingly why were they in communion with the church in the first place

a-book-of-creatures

Animals are expected to be part of the Church by default, that’s why they take excommunication so badly.

Felix Hemmerlin’s treatise on exorcism, cited by e.g. Wagner’s Historia Naturalis Helvetiae (1680), informs us that around 1221-1229, eels once infested Lake Geneva in huge numbers. So Saint William, bishop of Lausanne, excommunicated them and banned them from the lake, forcing them to live in only one part of it.

Plot twist: as far as we know, Saint William was never bishop of Lausanne.

redheadedhypocrite

There’s no way you have historical Christianity nonsense more silly than this to share

a-book-of-creatures

I’ve been trying to stay on brand and talk about animals only, but sure, few intersections of Christianity and the legal system get sillier than…

… the Cadaver Synod.

Pope Formosus (“Good-looking”) was pope from 891 to 896, and apparently accumulated a few enemies. After his successor Boniface VI enjoyed all of a 15-day papacy, the next pope elected was Stephen VI.

And he hated Formosus.

How much? He had the corpse of Formosus exhumed, dressed up in papal vestments, and put on trial for his failings as a pope.

End result? Formosus was found guilty of papal fail. The corpse was stripped of its clothes, three fingers on its right hand were severed (no blessings for u), and it was tied to weights and dumped in the Tiber.

Needless to say Stephen VI came to a sticky end. An angry mob deposed him, he was strangled in prison, and Formosus’s corpse was fished up and reburied with honors. And the later popes passed edicts ensuring this kind of silliness would not happen again.

Tune in next time when I tell you about how a lawyer defended a city’s entire rat population.

strawberriandromeda

Please, the rats, give us the rats, i beg....

a-book-of-creatures

The story of the rats of Autun is also the story of Barthelémy de Chasseneuz (or Chassenée, etc.), a highly original and highly talented defense lawyer. That’s him here.

When the town of Autun was infested by rats in the early 1500s, they were accused of eating the province’s barley crop and were duly summoned to be judged in an ecclesiastical court of law. Chasseneuz was the defense attorney.

How do you defend an entire swarm of rats? You don’t, is the answer. You delay. Chasseneuz’s original defense was “my clients live all over the place, one summons won’t be enough”. So he got a court summons to be posted in all the infested parishes.

When the rats didn’t show up after the elapsed time delay, Chasseneuz proceeded to explain at length why. The rats didn’t come to court, he said, because of their enemies the cats, which are everywhere and always vigilant and hungry. “You cannot expect my clients to undertake a journey which would put them in mortal danger”, he argued in complete seriousness. “Thus they have the legal right to turn down a summons that endangers them”.

As far as we know, the rats never did appear in court, and remained unprosecuted.

Chasseneuz went on to have a distinguished career as a lawyer and was allegedly killed by a poisoned bouquet of flowers.

#always reblog

homophobla

Twice a year in Hawaii the sun passes directly overhead and objects cast no shadow. It’s a phenomenon called “Lahaina Noon”

phoenix-theurge

You're full of shit, Hawaiians are just able to levitate coconut milk.

dirty-noona

As a Native Hawaiian, 1) I thought this happened everywhere, 2) ofc we can levitate coconut milk

gpuzzle

official-kircheis

@ancient-rome-au

wyrmicelli

me tongue-deep in a sandalwood candle: 🤤

the tjmaxx employee loading a fourth tranquilizer dart into their blowgun: i need backup

snowown

jncos

vengaboys haiku

We like to party.

We like, we like to party.

We like to party.

kaity--did

Do you know how hard it is to live with a cat that has the intelligence level of literally like a 3 year old but the pure chaos of a high ranking demon?

He’s learned to open the lazy Susan and won’t stop clawing open the flour and rolling in it like a little chinchilla

kaity--did