Poirot’s chief personality characteristic was undoubtedly his overweening - but lovable - egotism. On rare occasions he would present an appearance of modesty, but it was patently so forced and false that it fooled no one. Some of his own evaluations from one story or another: “Hercule Poirot… is of a cleverness quite exceptional;” “impossible to deceive Hercule Poirot;” “me, I know everything.”
- Russell H. Fitzgibbon, The Agatha Christie Companion

*; ★.:。—  character aesthetics ;; the scripturient.

( having a consuming passion and desire to write. )

nobody hates writers more than writers do. the most vicious and contemptuous portraits of writers, both as individuals and as types, appear in books written by writers themselves. nobody loves them more, either. megalomania and paranoia share the writer’s mirror. the writer-as-faust looks into it and sees a grandiose and evil and superhuman mephistopheles, master of magic, controller of destinies, to whom other human beings are as puppets whose strings he controls, or as fools whose hearts and deepest secrets he holds in the palm of his hand; the writer-as-mephistopheles looks into the same mirror and sees a shivering and pathetic faust, longing for eternal youth and terrific sex and untold riches, and clutching desperately to the pitifully delusional belief that he can conjure up these things through the miserable scribbling, the puerile fooling around with words, that he has the overweening nerve to call “art”.

My divine Lysis: 
do forgive my daring, 
if so I address you, 
unworthy though I am to be known as yours. 

I cannot think it bold 
to call you so, well knowing 
you’ve ample thunderbolts 
to shatter any overweening of mine. 

It’s the tongue that misspeaks 
when what is called dominion– 
I mean, the master’s rule– 
is made to seem possession by the slave. 

The vassal says: my king; 
my prison, the convict says; 
and any humble slave 
will call the master his without offense. 

Thus, when I call you mine, 
it’s not that I expect 
you’ll be considered such– 
only that I hope I may be yours. 

I saw you-need more be said? 
To broadcast a fire, 
telling the cause suffices– 
no need to apportion blame for the effect. 

Seeing you so exalted 
does not prevent my daring; 
no god is ever secure 
against the lofty flight of human thought. 

There are women more deserving, 
yet in distance from heaven 
the humblest of valleys 
seems no farther than the highest peak. 

In sum, I must admit 
to the crime of adoring you; 
should you wish to punish me, 
the very punishment will be reward.

—  Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

“Nadine! You open this goddamn door right now!”

The saddest moment in game.. (Rafe’s death is the most painful) ;<

But what if Nadine was sitting behind those closed door and heard a desperate Rafe? What if she really was torn between hate and.. another feeling.. like very complicated love.. 

She hated him so much.. for what he said and did, for all of it. They were partners, but Rafe couldn’t cooperate with her. The only thing that mattered to him was goddamn treasure! His overweening ambition was destroyed him.. but she knew that would happen. Rafe was humiliated in front of her people, undermined her authority and this was too much. She had to stop this, always knew when to quit. Then was time for this. No matter what she felt, nothing didn’t matter.. She just had to do it. But.. didn’t she regret? 

The Greek notion of sin was somewhat different. The great classical works of literature tend to portray sin as ‘overstepping the prescribed limits’. For many of the great dramatists and poets sin was essentially an inordinate emphasis on the self. It consisted in self-seeking or self-assertion, accompanied by overweening arrogance and pride. The tragic theatre and its preoccupation with the patterns of human passions and fallibility became a notable medium for reflection on human guilt and responsibility.

Human existence was represented here as being easily prone to becoming trapped in the quicksand of hubris and até, that terrible and delusional cocktail of pride and power, which would seize upon individuals and eventually bring about their ruin. Their great tragedians and thinkers struggled with the ultimate problems of guilt and fate and the repercussions of mistaken and ‘sinful’ choices.

The Persae of Aeschylus for instance ascribed the failure of the Persians to become a great Western power to their ‘transgression of the bounds’, which the gods had fixed to their empire – and because of this, mastery of the sea was never to be theirs. Euripedes, in turn, perplexed before the vastness of human sin, exclaims: ‘if Zeus were to write the sins of men – the whole heaven would not suffice.’

—  Hugh Connolly, Sin

Hide your heavens, Zeus,
in cloudy vapours
and practise your stroke, like a boy
beheading thistles,
on oaktrees and mountain summits;
still you must leave me
my steady earth,
and my hut, not built by you,
and my hearth,
whose warm glow
you envy me.

I know nothing more pitiful
under the sun than you Gods!
You feed your splendour
on expensive sacrifices
and the breath of prayers
and would starve, were not
children and beggars
fools full of hope.

When I was a child,
not knowing out from in,
I turned my bewildered gaze
to the sun, as if there might be above it
an ear to hear my sorrow,
a heart like mine
to have mercy on the afflicted.

Who helped me
against the overweening Titans?
Who rescued me from death,
from slavery?
Was it not you, my holy glowing heart,
who did it all?
and young and good, deceived,
glowed thanks for rescue
to the slumberer in the heavens?

I, worship you? What for?
Did you ever relieve
the ache of the heavy-laden?
Did you ever wipe away
the tears of the terror-stricken?
Was I not hammered into the shape of Man
by almighty Time
and eternal Destiny,
my masters, and yours?

No doubt you supposed
I should hate life,
flee to the desert,
because not every
blossom of dream became fruit?

Here I sit, make men
on my own pattern,
a breed to resemble me,
to suffer pain, to weep,
to feel pleasure and joy,
and, like me,
to pay you no attention!
Prometheus by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Goethe just like another Prometheus dares to doubt the external divine order and beg for some kind of compassion for humanity. The question remains still how can man ever reach his potential if this potential is hidden from him?…

Black figure lakonian kylix depicting the Titans Atlas and Prometheus both baring their torments, 570-560 BCE.

-A Devotional Month For Set-

The Donkey God
Meditation on Set Siccing His Donkeys on His Son

Sorry for the lateness of this, I had a lot of things to do today. The struggle against my own anger and helpless frustration in these situations has led me to contemplate the donkey form of Set. While it would be more dramatic to kill my ego in the ‘great sacrifice’ the Lord enacts and feel nothing but peace, sometimes I’m just too human for that and I have to look to Set’s humble little friend, the donkey, for inspiration on what to do with the anger eating me alive.

The Egyptians had a definite love for their donkeys, being beautifully rendered everywhere they appear and even being the subject of some ardent poetry in which their fine form and dedication are addressed– but they also recognized that donkeys were subject to intense passions with their biting, braying, kicking, overweening libido and stubbornness to balance out their incredible work ethic and loyal natures. It’s this incredible overwhelming energy combined with intense dedication that Set echoes and why these humble animals are Set’s most common face. It’s a face frequently without description as we all know who “the Ass of the Duat” is, the one bound with sacrificial cords –silently– and impaled with knives and spears in more than one papyrus and on various temple walls. The great sacrifice isn’t always feasible for a human though. It’s not for me, today. Today I would fight when I should be accepting and simply watch the knives go in and the flood of life pour out.

Since the Big Donkey is no help at the moment, and thinking about the Lord taking on the isfet of the world and submitting to sacrifice makes me sad, let’s go smaller. Set also has the 77 (seven groups of ten overseen by seven captains, the captain Donkeys have names in some of the inscriptions) overly enthusiastic Donkey Netjeri who guard his sacred well, sometimes called Des-Des. They come charging up the well (making a tremendous amount of noise) when they’re needed.

They challenge Ra every morning, braying and getting in his way, until they’re turned back by their mistress The Prow—Set’s Bride in her various forms—beaten and scolded for their naughty behavior. Here they exhibit a lot of traits—cloudiness, darkness, arrogance, excitement. They’re just balls of energy who don’t know what to do with themselves and they’re easily dispatched by The Prow with a few words and a good sound swat with her spear. I too can be that ball of unhelpful energy, that gaggle of braying Donkeys who get in the path of the very thing I’m trying to protect, even when I’m struggling to do Ma’at. The urge to be good is there—and the Donkeys, clearly, are good spirits most of the time—but like Tutu’s Seven Arrows, they are unruly. My heart is unruly and I try not to think too hard on whether or not Nebt-Het giving it a good swat and scolding would make me feel better or put me in the morgue. Sometimes it’s better not to know these things.

The Donkeys are also “the pointers” who follow Set’s son Maga (though Henadology argues this, I think there’s more than enough reason to believe Maga is a child form of Sobek the way the story reads—that he is one of the crocodiles or crocodile-headed children seen nursing at Nit’s breast in several places) around and make sure he shows up to flood the Nile and then doesn’t hang around too long afterward so the land beneath doesn’t spoil. The Donkeys are described as wagging their fingers at Maga and poking him in the eye (serious business, it’s a direct attack on his ‘wholeness’) to get him to go home when he won’t cooperate. Sobek is far too stately and adult to accuse of lingering too long unless you wanted a real fight on your hands, but young Maga just as drunk on autib as the father who released him? He could be late and need scolding— as evidenced in the Donkeys appearing in spells to poke Maga to leave justified souls be and make the Nile recede by sending him home and letting things follow Ma’at. Like Maga, my “wholeness”—the integrity of my being– has been poked and I’m upset, possibly crying, on the riverbank because I want something that has to be let go.

Set is a god who knows when to fight and when to let things go, but I don’t have the power or clarity of his sight. I’ve been poked by a donkey and now I’m left to deal with the fallout. I’m “walking home”, unsure exactly how upset this has made my “parents”. This is an odd moment, because I don’t see Set as a father figure— he’s always been my friend and Lord— but this story still resonates with me on that level because I’m dealing with the impending loss of my own father and one can be as drunk on misery and anger as they are joy. I am Maga in the Nile, whom has had his Father send the Donkeys after him. His playtime is over and now he must face the music or be lashed to his mother for the rest of his days for his misbehavior.

It’s not that I haven’t dealt with death before. In various jobs and through various events (my own coma, the passing of relatives, friends and pets) I’ve come to know that death isn’t some big scary thing to be afraid of. It’s a sweet little lady in a golden dress who calls you in and holds you when playtime is over. I’m just not anxious for my dad to be an Akhu yet. An Akhu can only hug me in my dreams or during a religious experience. We’ve had our differences. He’s always been a hard-nosed, difficult man, but he was also an extremely hard worker with a high work ethic who couldn’t figure out being a father but tried very hard. As a soldier and then a peace officer, he ruined himself in the service of people who aren’t even aware or thankful for what he’s done. Now he lies in a bed, his health slowly whittled away by conditions resulting from exposure to toxic chemical attack and sustained hard-living, waiting for death. Her approach is very slow, but every housecall from hospice services indicate she’s closer. As much as it hurts me to watch (and to watch my mother cry), I can’t let my anger over having him taken from me get in the way of their peace or mine.

He fought very hard for peace.

And once I’m done being the crocodile child, weeping the false tears more for myself than for him (because what is death for him, but a release from horrific pain?), with my angry heart dreading what I will find at home– I too will be a good little donkey at the feet of Set and do the hard work of letting him go in his own time. I will greet every interaction until then with a smile.

He deserves that and, honestly, I like joy so much better than sorrow. Joy is nicer and better for the heart. Like Yuya I’ve heard the Donkey (Set) and the Tom-Cat (Ra) speaking good things in the foyer of the house of new life, and I expect a good reception for my father.


I don’t think enough has been said about these lines.

They were important enough to survive the adaptation from manga to anime, in part because they give us a ton of information— not just about Kunzite, but about the Shitennou and what they’re doing in the Dark Kingdom.

I have no truck with the notion that the Great Four were brainwashed by Queen Beryl. They clearly suffer, on their second awakening, from a kind of partial amnesia, but it would seem that Beryl suffers along with them. The entire Dark Kingdom muddles forward in a haze of forgetfulness.

(Interestingly, it’s not the same as the total amnesia of Mamoru and the Senshi, who were actually reborn. Rather, it seems more akin to the hangover suffered by Luna and Artemis, who, like the denizens of the DK, merely reawaken after spending several centuries in an extradimensional coma. And, just as the cats recall more and more of their past as their Princess grows in power, so the DKers become more lucid as Metalia claws her way back into consciousness.)

All this to say that the amnesia of the Shitennou does not seem to be wholly the product of malign intent. Indeed, the only bona fide mind control we witness is performed on Endymion (and, in the manga, Kunzite) toward the end of the arc, when Beryl is desperate to graft her will upon others. And in the case of Kunzite, the product is an automaton— markedly different from the ruminating, calculating, philosophizing creature we see a few pages earlier.

Another reason I dislike the brainwashing cop-out is that it sets up a pre-vs.-post-lapsarian schism in the Shitennou’s characterizations. It presupposes that they were their genuine, “true” selves only before they defected to Beryl, and everything following that is an aberration, unrecognizable to those who knew the Great Four before their fall. (Which in turn engenders in fandom an overweening preference for saccharine SilMil-era storylines, but that’s another discussion.)

The manga presents the Shitennou as dupes; their mistrust of the Moon Kingdom leads them to sympathize with the casuistry of Beryl and turn against their prince. At which point their “bodies are changed” — literally melted down and made anew — and this presumably seals their allegiance to Metalia. But it doesn’t say anything about their personalities changing. And indeed, I have to wonder what sort of personalities they have to begin with, if they so swiftly slip out of their roles as trusted retainers and into something so egregious, so unrecognizable.

… Unless, of course, it’s not unrecognizable. prismatic-bell and I had an interesting conversation about this not long ago. She hypothesized that what we see of the Shitennou in the Dark Kingdom is not a radical divergence from their Golden Kingdom-era selves, but rather a malignant outgrowth of things that were already there. Each of the Four retains the essential elements of his character, only with the shadow side facing forward.

This would certainly explain the rapidity of their defection to Beryl. How else could they side willingly with something so vile, if there was not already a sympathetic shadow inside of them, some small darkness whispering, recognizing affinity, tugging them down toward the fatal black lode? (Particularly when we consider that Endymion, a supremely righteous human being if there ever was one, had no trouble seeing through and resisting Beryl’s slanted talk.)

And so I return to the images at the top of this post. Of all the Shitennou — indeed, of all the creatures of the Dark Kingdom — Kunzite is the only one we see expressing a philosophical, indeed aesthetic, appreciation of darkness.* Not even Beryl, who rhapsodizes at length on the glory of her kingdom and the sweetness of its imminent triumph, tenders any sort of sentimental affinity for the defining characteristic of her realm. Kunzite, on the other hand, seems to truly admire the Kingdom qua Dark.

Which makes me wonder— did this love of darkness predate, and perhaps precipitate, his tenure as the leader of Beryl’s henchmen? Certainly it appears to be something other than the party line. It’s his own private mantra, shared by no one, spoken in solitude. Could it have been there from the beginning, a sort of chthonic yearning, an affinity for the habitat of his original, crystalline self: sealed in the earth and hidden from light? Is his love of the Earth a literal love, which extends beyond the sunlit surface right to its molten black core? Is this what makes it so easy for Beryl to bend his ear and turn him away from the light? And might the same feelings be imputed to the other three— or do they, just kids really, simply follow Kunzite’s lead?

None of this is to imply that Kunzite and the others were already, or even incipiently, evil. Merely that there may have been more happening behind the gems of their eyes than we happy-enders (or happy-beginners) would care to entertain. That the stones in their hearts might have had affinities, narratives, and allegiances that do not square neatly with concepts of good and bad, or before and after. That they, like their namesake rocks, have facets that shine and go dark, depending on how you turn them.

* In the original anime, one of Kunzite’s most frequently-used words is utsukushii (beautiful). He applies it once to Zoisite, once to the rainbow crystals, and at least three times to darkness.

anonymous asked:

Would Renly have made a good king had he taken the throne? He seemed more like a strutting peacock who believed that popularity and charisma gave him the right and ability to govern.

Renly did have some strength in political maneuvering, far more than bellicose Robert or dour Stannis. That slight compliment doesn’t change a scathing condemnation, however. Renly was one of the worst pretenders to ever sit his eyes on the Iron Throne. The damage he could have caused to the office of King would have been great, the damage measured in the thousands of dead, had he been able to successfully sit himself on the Iron Throne. Forget Donal Noye, Renly wasn’t copper; Renly was a poisoned glass of wine. Fine to look at, but deadly when taken.

“Well, (Robert’s warhammer) is my claim, as good as Robert’s ever was.“ -A Clash of Kings, Catelyn II

Renly learned precisely the wrong lesson from Robert’s Rebellion. Robert’s Rebellion was not a war fought out of a selfish conceit for Robert to sit his posterior on the Iron Throne by virtue of Robert’s unmatched power with the warhammer, but rather a response to repeated and flagrant feudal overreach, first by Rhaegar Targaryen in the abduction of Lyanna Stark, then by Aerys II Targaryen with the execution of Lord Paramount Rickard Stark, his son and heir Brandon, and multiple nobles from the North, Riverlands, and Vale without the barest hint of trial. Robert’s popular acclaim was not because of his noble friends desiring to seat him on the Throne, but the tyrannies of House Targaryen mandating the ouster of the ruling house lest the Crown be seen as beyond the reach of Justice. As our Queen Regent helpfully pointed out, Robert’s Rebellion was a response to the tyrannies of both Aerys and Rhaegar that went so counter to the grain of the feudal and social contracts that the only just course was to rebel. Renly saw only the barest imitations without looking at the substance. His was a rebellion that had no greater purpose other than Renly’s own glorification; borne out of an overweening desire for Renly to be the glorious monarch that he thought he was. Hardly meritocratic, Renly saw the chaos as a chance to simply be king because he thought he was the best for the job (as opposed to any objective standards), and because of how awesome it would be to be king. He was, in no uncertain terms, a finely-washed thug, exerting power through force and arrogance.

Renly’s chapters with Catelyn in A Clash of Kings, and his interactions with Eddard in A Game of Thrones, reek of hypocrisy. Renly’s game to supplant Cersei with Margaery only works if he can secure the disinheritance of Cersei’s children, meaning of course, that he knew that the incest had happened before Eddard Stark set foot in King’s Landing. When confronted with Stannis’s claim, Renly says some words about being meritocratic, but is quick to acknowledge Stannis’s claims private with the caveat: “while he lives,” proving that he doesn’t even believe in the flimsy pretext he’s trying to shovel down the throats of his alliance partners and Westeros in general. Renly denies a Great Council as suggested by Catelyn, preferring instead to win through force on a wave of political outsiders and toadies. Robert, for his many, many faults, was not seeking to overthrow feudalism and succession for selfish pride.

Renly, if he succeeded, planted the notion that a king can be overthrown by a powerful, charismatic warlord, under no other philosophy than the warlord desires to be king. This means that Renly, in essence, promises a struggle for the Throne every time a king dies, or even when a king is still alive. Any king can ride in on a wave of political outsiders desiring to get their own. Renly promised near-constant strife, making the game of thrones even bloodier than it already was. He sought to undermine stable succession and replace it with war, and all for his own glory. He deserves nothing but the highest scorn for his selfishness.

After checking out Nina’s and my own writing on the Rebellion here on tumblr and what it means, here’s some further reading on Renly:

RacefortheIronThrone’s Steven Attewell wrote a great piece of the dichotomy of Stannis and Renly on Tower of the Hand. You can also see his analysis of the chapters where Renly features prominently: Eddard XIII, Catelyn II, Catelyn III, Catelyn IV.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

“hold on” brandon interrupts the other person with a single finger in the air. “are you trying to tell me that what i said was going to happen is exactly what happened?” there’s a tone of surprise in his words although if anything he’s overweening. “who could have ever imagined that?” his condescending question is followed by a grin as he crosses his arms against his chest, awaiting a response. 

Mythology Meme - Nymphs - Felicity Jones as Minthe

Naiad nymph of Cocytus

“Mint (Mintha), men say, was once a maid beneath the earth, a Nymph of Kokytos, and she lay in the bed of Aidoneus; but when he raped the maid Persephone from the Aitnaian hill, then she complained loudly with overweening words and raved foolishly for jealousy, and Demeter in anger trampled upon her with her feet and destroyed her. For she had said that she was nobler of form and more excellent in beauty than dark-eyed Persephone and she boasted that Aidoneus would return to her and banish the other from his halls: such infatuation leapt upon her tongue. And from the earth spray the weak herb that bears her name.”

I keep thinking about what a great character it would’ve been if Moana and Maui fused. Dang, she would’ve been PERFECT. Super beautiful, strong and independent, great ruler, also superior, overweening, but still kind and very funny.
And the reason she doesn’t exist is because she is too great.
Too great for this world.
(But in my opinion Moana herself is a really good character, so she doesn’t even need to be fused with Maui)

904: Werewolf

Whatever else you’re going to say about Track of the Moon Beast, it did try to stand out from the pack.  You don’t see a lot of werecreature movies with meteors, dinosaurs, or archery-induced nuclear meltdowns.  Then at the other end of the cliché scale there’s Werewolf, a movie that tells the audience that this will not be ‘the traditional white man’s movie monster’, but then gives us exactly that.

Keep reading

Enticement ft. Sardonyx and Amethyst
Enticement ft. Sardonyx and Amethyst

Written and Sung by: Perfectlyvindictive

Instrumental by: Aivi & Surasshu


One could describe me to be, flawless
Kind, elegant, charming  
(Overweening, kind of clumsy, not with that hair )
I’ve come to save the day
For my show
will bestow
A gift of beauty
She’s so snooty
So sit back and watch the show
(I can’t just watch you steal my glow)

  • Aries: Deflagrate - to burn rapidly with intense sparks and heat being given off; Smashmouth - characterized by brute force; Neonate - a newborn child or other mammal
  • Taurus: Case-harden - to harden so that the surface layer is harder than the interior; Propaedeutic - preparatory study or instruction; Brackish - somewhat salty
  • Gemini: Vulpine - of, relating to, or resembling a fox; Spume - frothy matter on liquids, foam or scum; Grift - to obtain money or property illicitly
  • Cancer: Preterit - past tense; Imperturbable - marked by extreme calm, impassivity, and steadiness, serene; Mollycoddle - to treat with an absurd degree of indulgence or attention
  • Leo: Overweening - arrogant, presumptuous, immoderate, or exaggerated; Diadem - something that adorns like a crown; Argosy - a large ship or rich supply
  • Virgo: Fastidious - having a meticulous, demanding attitude; Cubit - any of various units of length based on the arm; Bombast - pretentious, inflated speech or writing
  • Libra: Antipode - exact opposite; Quincunx - an arrangement of five things in a rectangle with one at each corner and one in the middle; Acephalous - having a small head or lack thereof
  • Scorpio: Wushu - a term for various Chinese martial arts; Intestine - of or relating to the internal affairs of a state or country; Skidoo - a type of snowmobile
  • Sagittarius: Eventuate - to come out finally, to result in; Louche - not reputable or decent; Toxophilite - a person fond of or expert in the field of archery
  • Capricorn: Plenipotentiary - invested with full power or to one's financial extent; Manque - frustrated in the fulfilment of one's aspirations; Hawkshaw - detective
  • Aquarius: Coalesce - to unite into a whole, to fuse, to grow together; Rapporteur - a person who gives reports; Hobbledehoy - a clumsy or awkward youth
  • Pisces: Snivel - to cry or whine with snuffling; Schlemiel - a gullible, awkward, or unlucky person; Swarga - a heaven where virtuous souls reside before re-incarnation