Bible Study: 71 B.C.E.
By Sharon Olds
After Marcus Licinius Crassus
defeated the army of Spartacus,
he crucified 6,000 men.
That is what the records say,
as if he drove in the 18,000
nails himself. I wonder how
he felt, that day, if he went outside
among them, if he walked that human
woods. I think he stayed in his tent
and drank, and maybe copulated,
hearing the singing being done for him,
the woodwind-tuning he was doing at one
remove, to the six-thousandth power.
And maybe he looked out, sometimes,
to see the rows of instruments,
his orchard, the earth bristling with it
as if a patch in his brain had itched
and this was his way of scratching it
directly. Maybe it gave him pleasure,
and a sense of balance, as if he had suffered,
and now had found redress for it,
and voice for it. I speak as a monster,
someone who this hour has thought at length
about Crassus, his ecstasy of feeling
nothing while so much is being
felt, his hot lightness of spirit
in being free to walk around
while others are nailed above the earth.
It may have been the happiest day
of his life. If he had suddenly cut
his hand on a wineglass, I doubt he would
have woken up to what he was doing.
It is frightening to think of him suddenly
seeing what he was, to think of him running
outside, to try to take them down,
one man to save 6,000.
If he could have lowered one,
and seen the eyes when the level of pain
dropped like a sudden soaring into pleasure,
wouldn't that have opened in him
the wild terror of understanding
the other? But then he would have had
to go. Probably it almost never
happens, that a Marcus Crassus
wakes. I think he dozed, and was roused
to his living dream, lifted the flap
and slowly looked out, at the rustling, creaking
living field-his, like an external
organ, a heart.
I know, I said I had renounced Sharon Olds and then I watched Roman Vice on the History Channel tonight and was in the mood for this one. That is probably the porniest thing I have ever seen on television, even with all the dry analysts interrupting. Sometimes I forget the level of perviness that went down with Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius and Nero. It's on again at 1 a.m. EST if you're in the mood to tape/TiVo it!
In the morning I went to the dentist to be fitted for my bite guard, so tonight I get to sleep with a very sexy piece of plastic in my mouth. *g* And now we will find out if this thing will really train me not to grind my teeth during the day too, and if it will really prevent headaches! My dentist is in the mall, so I stopped at the massive Hallmark sale and got everyone in my family little devil beagle ornaments for $1 in honor of my in-laws' beagle Ginger. They also had the practically-brand-new Housewives' Tarot cheap, which thrills me because I collect Tarot decks and '50s kitsch and this is both in one!
Today's three TrekToday articles were Kate Mulgrew saying the same thing again, William Shatner proving that too much publicity is never enough and most of the cast of DS9 -- the only of the modern Trek casts that ever really seemed to internalize Roddenberry's ideals -- grouping together for an auction for charity. It's funny, I rarely read DS9 fanfic and absolutely loathe the relaunch novels and I think it's because this series feels complete to me in so many ways -- I don't want to read the stupid Pocket Books collection of Mary Sues and I haven't felt any great compulsion to read 'shipper fic because pretty much every 'ship I cared about came true on the show, or was so strongly implied (like Garak/Bashir) that I never felt deprived of it.
One son's school is having a magazine subscription drive and the other son's school is selling Sally Foster wrapping paper. Anyone need any wrapping paper or magazines? *g* I wish they'd just ask us to donate money instead of hitting us up for things we don't really want, which our kids must then also push on our relatives and friends. I didn't even buy Girl Scout Cookies from anyone we know this year so there's no one who owes us a school charity favor!
Oh, I have Snupin to pimp, because they're both a little kinky and delightful and one of them was my bunny and the other I betaed: ariestess' "Those That Can, Do" and ldybastet's "Dinner Entanglement". Read the warnings if you're easily offended by, you know, porn.
One of the belly dancers balances a sword on her head.
Sometimes, the aristocrats told us, it is necessary to put dirty peasants in their place.
And what is aristocracy without the Queen?
Here at the Dragon Orphanage one can adopt (for a small fee) baby dragons like the ones crawling on the rose in this lady's cleavage.
Although there is a great deal of vice and wickedness from the Sultry Sirens of Sin and at the Wench Auction (both adults only events), the Archbishop of Canterbury is there to attempt to save souls.
The Dutchess of Sussex has all sorts of problems and is looking for people skilled in Monastery Sacking and Advanced Looting in addition to the above.
Way way behind on other people's journals and comments. Shall attempt to catch up tomorrow.