voluntary exile

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Hogwarts Houses as Gods and Natural Elements

Rꜥ - Ra, an ancient Egyptian Sun God. In later times he was merged with Horus, son of Osiris, with the head and association of a Hawk or Falcon. Father to Shu and Tefnut. He was believed to rule in all parts of the created world: the sky, the earth, and the underworld . Represents the Sun.

Indra - In Sanskirt इन्द्र , he is a Vedic deity in Hinduism, a guardian deity in Bhuddism and the king of first heaven in Jainism. He is celebrated for his powers, and the one who kills the great symbolic evil Vitra. God of lightning, thunder, storms, and river flows. Represents the Rain.

Ὄξυλος - Oxylus, or in ancient Greek Oxulos. A one-eyed man from Aetolia exiled after voluntary manslaughter. After assisting in invading Peloponnesus, he receives the fertile land of Elis. A Dorian fought Oxylus for the land and lost. The land became prosperous. Represents the Earth.

Obatalá - Obatala, a Yoruba Orisha and the father of all Orisha’s, known as the Sky Father. He is the creator of human bodies. Authorized by Olodumare to create land over the water beneath the sky, and he is the one who founded the first Yoruba city, Ife. Represents the Sky.

Hannibal

Young Hannibal Swears Enmity To Rome, Giovanni Antonio Pellegrini

Hannibal, son of Hamilcar Barca, (248–183 or 182 BC), commonly known as Hannibal was a Carthaginian military commander and tactician who is popularly credited as one of the most talented commanders in history. His father Hamilcar Barca was the leading Carthaginian commander during the First Punic War. Hannibal lived during a period of tension in the Mediterranean, when Rome (then the Roman Republic) established its supremacy over other great powers such as Carthage, and the Hellenistic kingdoms of Macedon, Syracuse, and the Seleucid empire.

One of Hannibal’s most famous achievements was at the outbreak of the Second Punic War, when he marched an army, which included war elephants, from Iberia over the Pyrenees and the Alps into northern Italy. In his first few years in Italy, he won three dramatic victories Trebia, Trasimene and Cannae and made several Roman allies. Hannibal occupied much of Italy for 15 years, however a Roman counter-invasion of North Africa forced Hannibal to return to Carthage, where he was decisively defeated by Scipio Africanus at the Battle of Zama. Scipio studied Hannibal’s tactics and brilliantly devised some of his own, and finally defeated Rome’s nemesis at Zama having previously driven Hasdrubal, Hannibal’s brother, out of Spain.

After the war Hannibal successfully ran for the office of suffete. He enacted political and financial reforms to enable the payment of the war indemnity imposed by Rome. However, Hannibal’s reforms were unpopular with members of the Carthaginian aristocracy and Rome, and he fled into voluntary exile. During his exile, he lived at the Seleucid court, where he acted as military advisor to Antiochus III in his war against Rome. After Antiochus met defeat and was forced to accept Rome’s terms, Hannibal fled again, making a stop in Armenia. His flight ended in the court of Bithynia, where he achieved an outstanding naval victory against a fleet from Pergamum. He was afterwards betrayed to the Romans, but Hannibal was determined not to fall into his enemies’ hands. He poisoned himself at Libyssa on the eastern shore of the Sea of Marmara. Before dying, he left behind a letter declaring: “Let us relieve the Romans from the anxiety they have so long experienced, since they think it tries their patience too much to wait for an old man’s death”.

3Kingdoms Spotlight: Xun Yu

There are few people who contributed more to Wei’s foundation than Xun Yu. Because most of his work was behind the scenes, he is sometimes overlooked in favor of flashier contemporaries like Guo Jia and Jia Xu, but he did more for Cao Cao than both of them combined. He was part of the foundation upon which Wei was built, and without him the world would have been an entirely different place.

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Ολυμπιάδα

Olympias (Greek: Ὀλυμπιάς, c. 375–316 BC) was was a Greek princess of Epirus, daughter of king Neoptolemus I of Epirus, the fourth wife of the king of Macedonia, Philip II, and mother of Alexander the Great. She was a devout member of the orgiastic snake-worshiping cult of Dionysus, and it is suggested by the 1st century AD biographer, Plutarch, that she may have slept with snakes. Her family belonged to the Aeacidae, a well-respected family of Epirus, which claimed descent from Neoptolemus, son of Achilles. Apparently, she was originally named Polyxena, as Plutarch mentions in his work Moralia, and changed her name to Myrtale prior to her marriage to Philip II of Macedon, as part of her initiation into an unknown mystery cult. The name Olympias was the third of four names by which she was known, taking it probably as a recognition of Philip’s victory in the Olympic Games of 356 BC, which coincided with Alexander’s birth.

Olympias and Philip’s marriage was very stormy, Philip’s volatility and Olympias’ jealous temper had led to a growing estrangement. Things got even worse in 337 BC, when Philip married a noble Macedonian woman Eurydice. This caused great tensions between Philip, Olympias and Alexander. Olympias went into voluntary exile in Epirus, staying at the Molossian court of her brother Alexander I who was the king at the time, along with her son Alexander who sided with her. Olympias later ordered Eurydice and her child by Philip to be murdered, in order to secure Alexander’s position as king of Macedonia. During Alexander’s campaigns, she regularly corresponded with him and may have confirmed her son’s claim in Egypt that his father was not Philip but Zeus. The relationship between Olympias and Alexander was cordial, but her son kept her away from politics. However, she wielded great influence in Macedonia and caused troubles to Antipater, the regent of the kingdom. She was put to death in 316 BC by the friends of those whom she had slain. It is said that her remains were denied the rites of burial.

Up the Red Ladder: Vadran Society

Vadran society is divided into five general orders. Four of these denote full citizenship and one denotes a form of limited quasi-citizenship, detailed below. Vadrans do not take slaves and consider any culture that does to be weak. Vadrans are major proponents of ruthlessness in war and magnanimity in peace. Much of the Vadran success in taking their kingdom from the Therin Throne can be attributed to their habit of fairly integrating rather than cruelly subjugating conquered populations. An old Vadran aphorism, loosely translated, goes: “Enemy of mine, captive of my children, friend of my grandchildren, blood of my great-grandchildren.”

A major force within the Vadran social order is the old custom of Skyrdradda, or “Red Ladder,” which developed during the raiding centuries as a codified means of moving survivors up the ranks to fill leadership holes left by deaths in battle. Skyrdradda is a covenant between the high and low ranks of Vadran society, a promise that in exchange for service in times of war, the lower classes will always be allowed to climb the red ladder into vacated positions. In this way the smallholders become greatholders and the common become noble; the red ladder signifies opportunity for anyone willing to risk the climb.

The Vadran social classes:

Ancestrals (Anvalta, “Ancient Names”) are the titled nobles, exhaustively pedigreed in their descent from the great families of the old lands and the post-Landing order of Stormfall and her dynasty. Only Ancestrals may stake a lawful and religiously appropriate claim to the throne of the Marrows.

Nameholders (Kyrvalta, “Good Names”) are the beneficiaries of a special legal status somewhat akin to knighting, though it doesn’t have the same purely military connotation. A Vadran Nameholder has the power to make legally binding contracts, in front of witnesses, with their verbal promise only. Under certain circumstances, they may also pay for goods or arrest citizens of lower standing, again with nothing (legally speaking) but their own voice. Nameholder status may be granted by an Ancestral in recognition of some great deed or service; in most cases it goes hand-in-hand with the ownership of something to live on. Vadrans are generally leery of heaping honors on those without adequate means to make a living. They do not consider the behavior of cash-poor Therin nobles a model particularly worthy of emulation.

Priests are considered to be the equivalent of Nameholders.

Greatholders (Gronkaptja) are the owners of significant property, money, or business concerns.

Smallholders (Pelkaptja) are the common adult citizens, granted this status at the Midsummer-mark after their 17th birthday. Pelkptja have the rights of free movement and free association, jobs or military service permitting. They are considered to own themselves, and may hold private goods and funds, though they generally work in the service of the higher orders in some fashion. Vadran agriculture is based on a system of smallholders sharecropping on lands controlled by higher orders.

Year-Bound (Jyrhalskar) is the lowest order of Vadran society, a unique state combining elements of the indentured servant, the prisoner-of-war, and the religious penitent. This status cannot be enforced upon anyone; they must consent to it (the alternatives are generally death or exile). The Year-Bound renounce all former rights, titles, and holdings and agree to serve another Vadran citizen for the term of a year and a day, after which they are generally granted the status of smallholder or allowed a peaceful, voluntary exile from Vadran lands, as they prefer. The Year-Bound do not receive pay, but they cannot be debased or abused by whoever holds their pledge.

Year-Binding is a remedy for many sticky situations concerning outlaws, defeated enemies, or prisoners of war. The Year-Bound enters into a state of legal and religious grace and gains a year to reflect on their situation without fear for their life. It is even possible (though somewhat rare) for a Vadran lord or lady, defeated in war (or otherwise shamed), to accept Year-Binding and return to society as a smallholder, there to start again and attempt to climb the red ladder anew.

It should be noted that Year-Binding is not an impenetrable dodge for capital crimes, and just as the entrant must consent to the status, those in authority muse consent to give it to them.

A final point of trivia: The power to enforce Year-Binding and police its abuses is traditionally given to the king or queen and their agents. In a time of civil war, abuses of the system and “accidental” deaths of dangerous prisoners are, unfortunately, far from impossible.

the-polite-fan  asked:

I've been wondering for a bit, why is the original book of les mis called "the brick" by the fandom? I have my copy divided into three books with a very little font, but they seem much bigger than a brick! The barricade is made out of trash too, so??

Haha I think it comes from the French nickname for it? As a French person, I’ve always heard people calling it “a pavé” aka “a brick” because that’s how we call massive books in French. Lord of the Rings all in one book would be considered a pavé, for instance (I have an edition like that. Believe me)

In addition, I cannot help but think about the French expression “un pavé dans la mare” aka “A brick in the pond”, which defines something that troubles a usually calm situation. And… That’s pretty much what Hugo intended? He wrote les Misérables to bring awareness to the situation in France at the time, and he wanted it to be read by EVERYBODY. Sure, he wrote a story that was supposed to be set in the past, but dont be fool, he was just taking a huge dump on Napoleon III and his Empire, haha the time he was writing the book. He even went on voluntary exile because he hated the man! No wonder he wrote about a revolution…

Voluntary Exile

Carol pressed her hand to her thigh, trying to stop the bleeding. She’d managed to tear through her cargo pants and into her skin on something sharp, but she hadn’t stayed long enough to note what it had been. She’d barely made it out of the car as it was. The wound was minor, but if she didn’t get inside somewhere and cleaned up soon, she’d be dead. It was already risky being alone without leaving breadcrumbs to follow. The blood trail was too fresh, practically an invitation to ever walker out there, or worse.

The first building on the street was too open, wide glass windows that would offer little in the way of protection or privacy. The one next to it however was much more promising, brick with shaded windows. She tore up the steps, glancing around before opening the door as quietly as possible, both her knife and gun drawn. Nothing lunged forth and she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, the click echoing though the front room of the house.

anonymous asked:

Dude, Elsa is the antagonist. Jen Lee even said that she was the villain and Let It Go was originally her villain song. She then decided to redeem her at the end after writing LIG. Elsa tries to murder two men in cold blood and almost becomes a monster. "Don't be the monster they fear you are" the movie says it itself. She even strikes her own sister in the heart and send a monster to kill her because Anna wouldn't shut up about the winter. And she doesn't even care about her people. Selfish!

…anon, you have no idea how much I’m tempted to just reply in GIR gifs.  But instead, I’m gonna go debate and literary critique and analysis on this.  Because that’s my mood right now.

There’s a literary theory called “Death of the Author”.  What that basically means is that the author’s intents don’t matter and we, as the audience, are supposed to weigh the work on what it presents.  In this case, even if Disney intended Elsa to be the villain (and primary antagonist) in the film, because they changed that and did not present it that way, as an audience, we are not supposed to see her as one.  Because she is portrayed more as the deuteragonist (which, to be fair, says nothing about her tendencies towards good or evil, but we’ll get to that in a bit), as the text of the film is all we have, her role is the deuteragonist.  Lee, et al’s intentions and personal experiences don’t matter in this brand of literary analysis; only the text itself.

But even ignoring that type of literary theory, as it has its detractors, mostly because what we write is informed by our viewpoints and experiences, and there are parts of the author that are intrinsically woven into the fabric of their works.  So, with that in mind, let me refute this arguement on those terms.

First off, Anon, I’m sorry to say, but you contradict yourself in the first three sentences.  If Jen Lee, et al decided to redeem Elsa at the end of hearing Let It Go the first time, then the original draft of the text does not matter.  It cannot matter and it has never mattered in any form of literary criticism and analysis.  Why?  Because it is not the text.  The first draft is never considered authoritative over the final draft.  To argue otherwise basically up-ends the entirety of literary thought and tradition for the entire human race.

In this case, because the subsequent drafts of the script wrote Elsa as a very redeemable anti-hero deuteragonist, that is her role in the story.  That is what the Author intended in the story.

So, now that we’ve covered the incorrect assessment of her literary role in the film, we’re going to now move onto actual moral judgements (told you we’d get to that).

Put forth to a jury of her non-peers (because Arendelle is a monarchy and based on that, Elsa pretty much is seen as having divine right to do whatever the hell she wants, so summary execution of traitors and/or assassins trying to kill the head of state wouldn’t even be seen as a crime by anyone of her social standing at the time), you still would have a hard time labeling that as “intent to murder”.  You’d have trouble probably even getting “voluntary manslaughter”.  Why?  Because it is clearly self-defense, and if we’re applying US legal code (why, I have no idea, but let’s roll with it), that is not a crime.  Morally, self-defense is not a crime.  You are basically arguing that a 21-year-old woman, in fear for her life and being attacked by men older and better armed than her, should let them do whatever the hell they want.  Are you really choosing that hill to die on, Anon?  Really?

On the striking Anna part, that is very clearly unintentional and an accident.  Everything from visual cues of the ice that we’ve been taught to look for, to Elsa’s body language, to her gasping and cringing as soon as she realizes what’s happened…that was not intentional.  Would you seriously blame a person in the midst of a panic attack, who is flailing and trying to get away from the stressor, if they accidentally up-ended a table and that table smacked someone else for hurting the other person intentionally, or would you admit that it was an accident?  Yes, actions have consequences, but because we are human, intent also matters a lot.  And in those cases, proving you are sorry plays a big role.  You’re ignoring that Elsa was so apologetic over the consequences of that one action that she was willing to die over it.  That is…rather the opposite of selfish.

Following on that thread, one can argue that Elsa’s major “selfish” act - that of running away - is in fact also quite selfless and proves that she does take her vows and duties to her people as their monarch seriously.  Why?  In her assessment of the situation, the greatest threat to Arendelle and her citizens is Elsa herself (watch how she acts around her subjects in the coronation scene; she knows she’s barely under control and is trying to keep away from hurting them as much as possible when they’re crowding around her).  Therefore, as monarch, her duty to her citizens is to remove the threat.  In this case, it means voluntary exile.  Which she does.

Was this an accurate assessment?  Not really, no.  Because we, as the audience, are privy to information Elsa does not have at the moment.  We know the winter doesn’t stop when Elsa runs away, but she doesn’t know that.  Not until Anna comes and tells her.  At which point, we see her nervous breakdown that she’s failed in the second most-important charge in her life: that of keeping Arendelle safe.  (She then fails in the first charge, that of keeping Anna safe from her, poor girl.)  That is not the reaction of a selfish monarch, or really, a selfish person at all.  Elsa’s guilt complex rivals a Catholic’s.

In conclusion, no, Anon, Elsa is not the antagonist, not in the moral connotation nor in the literary function.