i thought the “this is the face that launched a thousand ships, although now it would maybe be five-hundred.” line was just an internet joke but apparently that's a line Menelaus actually says in Nolan's Odyssey??
Not only that the language itself sounds straight out of a marvel forcibly funny haha moment, but Menelaus? The Menelaus who all thoughout human history, from Homer, to Sappho, to Euripides, to Virgil, to Shakespeare, to Brooke, to Barth; from Classical vases to Medieval poetry to Reinessance art, has been known as the man whose sword fell from his hands at the sight of his wife after 10 years apart?
"What joy for me to hold my wife" Menelaus?
"He flung the sword away, and kissed her feet" Menelaus?
"I believe all. I understand nothing. I love you" Menelaus?
"I have no fault to find; my wife, he daughter of Zeus and Leda, is mine again, she whom her brothers on their snow-white steeds, whilst torches blazed, made my happy bride, but gods removed her from my home." Menelaus?
The Menelaus who was picked out of the suitors by Helen herself? The Menelaus who couldn't kill a begging Trojan so his brother had to do it for him? The Menelaus who rescued Odysseus and got out Patroclus' body? The Menelaus who volounteered to fight Paris one on one so everybody could go home? Who kept expressing his guilt about himself being the cause of war through every assembly he spoke at in the Iliad? Who after 10 years away at Troy, took his wife through a 7-year long journey at sea back home, where he reinstated her as the queen of Sparta? Who wept like a child in front of Telemachus recalling the war and his brother and all the friends he lost and the only consolation being his wife' gentle hand on his?
You want me to believe that man scarred Helen's face and called her only worth half the ships because of it?
I'm actually physically sick just thinking about it.
CEOs such a deeply unserious concept. Hi I'm the guy whose job it is to decide how much money everyone gets and I just so happened to decide I should get two squilliam dollars and you should get a penny and a half. I know I did a good job because math please don't double check.
its fascinating how very very surface level 1920s-ish jazz age inspired aesthetics are very popular (see: hazbin hotel and electroswing and the endless wave of bowtie pinstripe character designs from the 2010s) but the vast vast majority of people who are into that seem fundamentally disinterested in actually engaging with actual jazz age art and culture because that would require engaging with black art
hello hazbin hotel fan. before you is an image of cab calloway. if you cannot correctly name at least one song of his then you will be dropped into a pool of live hammerhead sharks
Cozy game where you're a metic potter in classical athens and you can design your own silly pottery drawings by placing posable figures and other decorations on them and you sell them and meet various characters and you can date them and grow your store and level up. Like Stardew valley. But you make pots.
Imagine how fun. You reach like level 20 and now you have unlocked funerary lekythos!!!! Your chances of getting discovered by archaeologists have increased by 34%!!
I'd set in like 430 too so you have the plague to deal with.
Oh, you asked Microsoft Copilot? *I* asked all that that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies!
classicists will make the ugliest least functional website in the history of html and it will contain the entire library of fragmentary papyri of the works of aeschylus. for free
The Maker was…satisfied, with Audra’s recent results. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he was pleased, but something close.
She was always so eager to please, to have his approval. Of course, he had always engineered it that way. It had been so easy…he had slipped under her bedroom door all those years ago, offering a pearly white smile and praises. You know you’re special, don’t you? You’re more than this village, than these people. Don’t you want to use that genius, Audra? How would you like to come with me, where you can truly put that brain to good use?
She’d never misbehaved, never intentionally. Of course, there had been a few…slip-ups, in her late teens, which he had always quickly corrected. She was brilliant, of course, but controllable—the perfect assistant. So much more manageable than the “hero” she would’ve become without his intervention.
This week, she had delivered on his requests for a functional and efficient facial recognition system. She had already helped him identify and “manage” multiple targets…a fact she had been very happy about, when the Maker had told her. He had omitted the more…grisly details, of course, for her sake.
Today, however, there was a more urgent task for her.
Audra was up earlier than her written schedule dictated. She was reading one of the novels she had been given by the Maker as a reward for her hard work, deeply invested in the characters as she read from her bed. I know you have a fondness for romance stories, Audra. This is a reward for your efficiency.
The Maker stepped into her room, silent and smiling wide. She jumped on instinct, quickly putting her book away and sitting upright—nervously pushing the curl of black hair that fell over her eyes.
The Maker chuckled, approaching until he was right beside her bed. “Audra, you’re still in free time until six o’clock. You don’t have to hide your reading from me, you know.”
“…Right. O-of course, sir. What did you need?”
“Oh, it’s very simple, Audra, don’t worry,” he began, his grin tilting his words. His smile showed almost all of his teeth—far wider than a normal human could ever smile.
“You’re going to be working with Doom, for the foreseeable future.”
Audra felt her chest get tight. Doom? The man in the metal mask? She had seen him so many times on her cameras, but they’d never exchanged a word. She had always been under the impression she wasn’t allowed to, his labs were generally off-limits. He was intimidating, in her opinion…tall and silent, his mask expressionless and hidden under the shadows his cloak provided. She had been tasked with working with Howard Stark on some projects, and he had been fine…if a bit uncomfortable around her. But Doom? Him? He was new, and that was unnerving. She knew nothing about him, and she knew very well she was forbidden from asking.
Evidently, Audra had hesitated too long. The Maker tilted his head, silently demanding an answer.
“Understood, Maker,” She managed, rushing her words. “What will we be working on?”
“Nothing you can’t handle,” He answered, reaching out his arm to stretch and brush a hand over her hair. “A new re-education device. Doom is finalizing the mechanics of it, you will be looking over the code he created for it.”
“Yes, sir. I’d be honored.”
He grinned wider. “Of course you would be,” he agreed. “But I have another task for you, for your telepathic powers.”
“As you know…you are always reading the minds of your associates. Part of your responsibility is to keep watch on their thoughts, to report anyone scheming against us.”
She only nodded, knowing he had more to say.
“Keep an extra close eye on Doom’s thoughts, for me. I fear he may be unstable, and I’d love to have some reassurance from you.”
Audra swallowed, her dark eyes shooting to her blankets in her lap.
“Will he be a risk to me?”
“No, of course not. Would I send you to work with a man who posed any danger?” He asked, his voice rising slightly.
“No…but—“
“Then you already know, he poses no threat. I merely need you to keep watch on him, to look for any stray thoughts of betrayal. He isn’t as…committed, as you are, Audra.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Good. Work starts at six thirty, report to Doom’s lab. I have a meeting to attend in Brasília, but I expect to return to sufficient progress tomorrow.”
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