Remove ads

Let's Read: Vox Day's Arts of Dork and Spite, and Try to Make the Resulting Hurt Stop.

Reader mode
Just want to inform you all that there might be a delay before I post the next bit, as the next chapter's a long one, and involves... poetry.



Pray for Mojo.
 
Remove ads
A Throne of Bones: Corvus. Corvus has things happen to him, and there's poetry at the end, Part one.
  • Threadmarks
    • CORVUS (PART ONE)

    This one is going to be split into three parts, because it is long, busy, and Corvus goes to a poetry reading at the end. While the poem isn't too long in one sense, in another it is interminable. What I'm saying is, this one's going to be a bitch for me.

    So--Corvus is having a bad dream, because Lord Silvertree's talk of gods and the like has scared him. It's a completely standard hack nightmare sequence. Romilia wakes him up. Corvus has to go off to the Sanctal Palace, and there's a messenger to the legion there. What follows is a good example of how this tangled, messed-up timeline fucks up Beale's storytelling. The messenger is heading towards the province bordering the goblin lands that the legions are wintering in with gold and silver, and we have no idea what the situation is where he is going. Has Saturnius been killed yet? Has Marcus pulled off the speed version of The Great Escape? It's impossible to know, because Beale has managed to utterly muck things up and clearly doesn't realize that.

    Returning to the shipment, it's going to be accompanied by the Petrines, another one of the the Church's private militias, this one made of ex-legionaries, who only wear leather armor, for some reason. The messenger and Corvus debate whether Saturnius is going to decimate the survivors of the XIVth legion when he finds them, because suddenly, this is a thing to think about. Prior to this chapter, the story treated that bunch as all gone, but now they aren't. Anyway--Saturnius will do what he has to. The Law of the Legion is Iron! Except where it isn't, but that's Amorr for you.

    Anyway, Corvus' daughter is coming over later, and we're in full creepy fundamentalist dad territory here, with talk of "giving her" to her present husband, and of course threatening said husband as he did so. We learn that Corvus was a mediocre aedile, and that he paid off his debts by ransoming a kingdom's heirs after a campaign.

    Our Corvus. A profoundly decent man.

    All this is strung through with more of Corvus and Romilia acting all... creepy and flirty, which makes it a relief when it ends. We learn that Corvus has brought gifts over for his grandkids from the campaign, a goblin war club, and a wolfskin. I suspect that if given the chance he'd be bringing severed heads and goblin slaves, but that's for when they're older...
     
  • Threadmarks
    • A Throne of Bones: Corvus. Corvus has things happen to him, and there's poetry at the end, Part two.
  • Threadmarks
    • CORVUS (PART TWO)

    They've chosen the new Pope. The Senate is meeting in the Amorran Crystal Dragon Papal Palace, because that's what they do when this happens. Magnus is chatting with former archenemy Patronus when Corvus gets in, possibly commiserating on how they're the only two men in Amorr who know how to cod Roman.

    The Senate goes through the entire ritual of accepting the new Pope. Which includes the following gem...

    "... But just as Death could not hold You, and You rose again to life eternal, so we now raise up a Man to stand in Your stead and guide Your Most Holy and Sanctified Church in, but not of, this Fallen Earth."
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    ...

    You've got armies, and the head of the Church is the titular head of state of a freaking empire! You're not just "in" things, pal.

    So, the next Pope is revealed, and it's our boy, Valens. One wonders if this will help him in dealing with Immortal(?) Bishop Larry, but then one wonders if that is still even a storyline. Corvus and Torquatus chat on this, and figure that well, at least it's not a Severan. Men of great piety, the traditionalists. The new Pope enters, with his various guards, including the the "Priest-Captain" of the Redeemed. I'd think having a bunch of ex-gladiators at your beck and call would at least rank a Bishopric, but what do I know? The pope is followed by twenty-one archbishops--archbishops of what, we have no idea, in fact, we remain completely in the dark about various aspects of the Church, because Beale can write page after page on things, and yet touch on NOTHING of what he insists is a central part of his tale...

    Deep calming breath. Right, so Corvus and Torquatus see that Patronus isn't happy, so this must be a good thing. Patronus then goes through a ritual offering of the Pope to the Senate. First off, do they want him as their king? Nope. Only Amorran Crystal Dragon Jesus' Da is king!

    This was the faith of their fathers that had made Amorr great. This was the unshakable faith in God, not Man, that had raised this city above all the other nations and cities of the world.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    That and the fucking armies genociding people.

    Patronus asks them if they'll have Valens as their prince, but only Amorran Crystal Dragon Jesus is their prince. (As I understand it, Beale's a non-Trinitarian.) But they will have him as guide and advocate, which is somehow different from those things, somehow. Anyway, the band starts up, the cardinals follow in line, and we move on.

    Corvus is back home, playing with his granddaughter, having cut out from the rest of the whole new pope ceremony to see her, which reminds him holding her mother in his arms. To be fair, it's almost humanizing. But then you get sentences like this...

    There were times in the past when he'd thought he might have sold his soul to again experience one of those precious moments seared into his mind for all time.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    And yeah, all Corvus' going gooey just falls flat. We get it Corvus. It's all really about you. This segues into his daughter dissing the late Fortex, as part of the ongoing effort to make sure the audience knows it was A Good Thing Corvus Did, A Good Thing. Fortex should have KNOWN he would get axed for doing what he did! He was a spoiled entitled brat! And that was all Magnus' fault! A Good Thing!

    And that's when we learn that a poet is reading the last twelve stanzas of... the Amorriad. Which involves one of Corvus' valiant ancestors, and his conquest of someone who dared be in the way of the Amorrans. Corvus, after some prompting by his wife and daughter, decides, sure, he'll go. To listen to the epic verse.

     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • A Throne of Bones: Corvus. Corvus has things happen to him, and there's poetry at the end, Part three.
  • Threadmarks
    • CORVUS (PART THREE)

    So, Corvus arrives for the poetry reading. We are told that he is beloved by the people, because while the dirty liberals auctares may be more powerful (somehow, as their signature issue was easily defeated by Corvus making a shitty speech) the common v... folk understand that the Right clausores are their real friends, by maintaining the unsustainable status quo! Yes, it was A Good Thing Corvus Did, A Good Thing!

    The poet shows up and gives us some background. The... Marmori got war declared on them when the Amorran ambassador got killed by their king when he tried to negotiate an alliance with them. Why did the king do that? Well, given this is Beale, I expect the canon answer is because he was a non-Amorran, and therefore evil. Given that meta-text exists, I suspect he was telling the emerging hegemons to piss off, because look at how the Amorrans treat the effing "Allies".

    And so we are treated to this deathless verse...

    The Senate spoke, and in one voice acclaimed
    Quinus Accius of silvered tongue enfamed.
    "Go you, now, to the land of Marmorus,
    And eternal friendship with their folk discuss."
    Willing, Plautus obeyed; and hither bound
    To Marmorus, its king at length he found..."
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    ...And yes, when I said it was "deathless" I meant it was a horrifying monstrosity. How astute of you to notice.

    Thankfully, we get a break at this point, as Corvus doses off, but rather than being a sign that Beale MIGHT just realize his skills aren't up to it, he's moving ahead to the part he wants to write, the epic battle.

    And, oh is it epic. In a way. By which I mean, it is a pastiche/ripoff of the conclusion of Aeneid, specifically Dryden's translation. Only... done all wrong.

    Titus Valerius brandished his long spear
    Against the foe, and so inflamed his fear:
    "What further course can you hope to find?
    What empty hopes are hidden in your mind?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    To which the audience declares "That this will be over soon!"

    Alas, we are destined to be disappointed.

    There is no swiftness to secure your flight;
    Not with their feet, but arms, the valiant fight!
    Vary your shape in many forms and run
    All across the world under the scornful sun;
    Pray for wings or winds to mount the sky;
    It will avail you naught for today you die!"
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    ...

    ...

    He actually wrote this people--or more exactly tore bits of it out of Dryden and did this to them. And then published it.

    Tiranus shook his head, and uttered reply:
    "No threats of yours could ever give me pause;
    For mine the right and the gods' own cause!"
    The king fled not, but firmly stood his ground
    Before the man that him had hunted down.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    ...Yeah. Yeah.

    The Marmori king was sworn never to yield
    And as he cast about the bloody field
    A javelin lay, broken, but free to wield;
    He drew it from the earth, and, poised on high,
    Charged toward his foe with a loud war cry,
    But so shattered in spirit he scarcely knew
    His way, or what unweildly spear he threw.
    He hurled it forth but it fell well short
    And want of vigor, mocked his vain effort.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...




    He sought to stand, but destitute of force,
    His sinking limbs failed him amidst the course:
    In vain he heaved, in vain he cursed;
    His last strength failed, by his wounds dispersed;
    On royal tongue the futile curses died.
    Tiranus failed; whatever means he tried,
    All force of arms and artful skill employed,
    They went for naught and the endeavor void    .
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    The funny thing this is shorter than Virgil and Dryden's version. And yet somehow, also longer.

    Well, I've given you a taste, for which you are doubtless cursing me, so I'll do the short version--they replay the scene where Turnus takes a death wound from Aeneas and then begs for mercy, Aeneas is about to give him it, then sees Pallas' medallion and decides, "nope", only with Tiranus, Plautus and Valerius Victus standing in, and the poetry all much worse because Beale just yanks bits out and then mutilates it. Because that is what he does with words.

    Back in the ampitheatre, Corvus thinks that his ancestor had a cool name, and wishes he had one like that. Because it's all about him. But he thinks there are things more precious, like his wife and daughter.

    Though clearly nephews better watch themselves.
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • krinsbez said:
    What, is he one of those Christian Identity nutters?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    No, he's just... him.

    Yeangst said:
    Actually, can you point to somewhere where he implies he's non-Trinitarian?

    I think it's hilarious that professed Augustine and Aquinas fanboi doesn't believe in the Trinity.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    From his blog, a portion of the post "The False Doctrine of the Trinity." (I'm not going to link to it, though a simple Google search will have it pop up.)

    The eighth point in Jamsco's attempted summary of my doctrinal beliefs is a succinct one. "8. The Trinity is obvious BS. It's easily proved. [Direct quote from a comment here]." As it happens, he got that one entirely correct, which is not the case in two of the other ten points.

    Now, the falsity of the doctrine can be proved in a variety of ways, but since we're dealing with mainstream Churchianity here, I'll utilize the easiest and most obvious because those who subscribe to the doctrine of the Trinity also subscribe to the doctrine of divine omniscience. Note that since I am skeptical of both doctrines, this argument obviously does not reflect my own theological beliefs. Let's follow the logic:

    1. The Trinity is God as three divine persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. These three persons are distinct yet coexist in unity, and are co-equal, co-eternal and consubstantial. These three divine persons are combined in one being we call God.

    2. This one being is omniscient, and therefore knows everything.

    3. It is written, in Matthew 24:36: "But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." Therefore, the Son and the Holy Spirit are not omniscient, and furthermore, do not possess the same knowledge as the Father.

    4. Therefore, the Son and the Holy Spirit are not co-equal and consubstantial with the Father. They may or may not be co-eternal.

    5. Being neither co-equal nor consubstantial, the Son and the Holy Spirit are not one being with the Father.

    6. Therefore, God is one person, the Father. The doctrine of the Trinity is a false one.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    So, yeah.
     
    Last edited:
    You could have just had him attend the reading (shouldn't he already know the "Aeneid" if it's a classic, given his upbringing?), but nooo, Beale had to prove he could cargo cult write epic poetry with the best of them!
     
    Holy hell, cringe-worthy poetry? This really is turning out to be like Eragon, if Christopher Paolini were a reactionary knobhead.
     
    I distinctly remember a poetry assignment in my high school creative writing course and not wanting to just use basic bitch AABB.

    I don't remember if I grasped the concept of rhythm and meter, but I can't imagine that you can get much worse than Beale.
     
    krinsbez said:
    How else does a Christian incorporate White Supremacism into their religion, since Jesus and the Apostles weren't white?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    By calling everyone who says that to him kucks followers of Churchianity, that's how.

    Really. That's all he's got.

    Coiler said:
    You could have just had him attend the reading (shouldn't he already know the "Aeneid" if it's a classic, given his upbringing?), but nooo, Beale had to prove he could cargo cult write epic poetry with the best of them!
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    The Amorread is just being written, because again, in Amorr, all of Roman history is happening out of order and at once.

    Reveen said:
    I distinctly remember a poetry assignment in my high school creative writing course and not wanting to just use basic bitch AABB.

    I don't remember if I grasped the concept of rhythm and meter, but I can't imagine that you can get much worse than Beale.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    To be fair to Beale, he inherited that rhyme scheme from Dryden.

    To be even fairer, he then mutilated Dryden's verse well beyond its ability to stand. (I really feel I should put that portion of the Aeneid up, just to demonstrate.)

    POSTSCRIPT--

    And here it is...

    Now stern Aeneas his weighty spear
    Against his foe, and thus upbraids his fear:
    "What farther subterfuge can Turnus find?
    What empty hopes are harbor'd in his mind?
    'Tis not thy swiftness can secure thy flight;
    Not with their feet, but hands, the valiant fight.
    Vary thy shape in thousand forms, and dare
    What skill and courage can attempt in war;
    Wish for the wings of winds, to mount the sky;
    Or hid, within the hollow earth to lie!"
    The champion shook his head, and made this short reply:
    "No threats of thine my manly mind can move;
    'Tis hostile heav'n I dread, and partial Jove."
    He said no more, but, with a sigh, repress'd
    The mighty sorrow in his swelling breast.

    Then, as he roll'd his troubled eyes around,
    An antique stone he saw, the common bound
    Of neighb'ring fields, and barrier of the ground;
    So vast, that twelve strong men of modern days
    Th' enormous weight from earth could hardly raise.
    He heav'd it at a lift, and, pois'd on high,
    Ran stagg'ring on against his enemy,
    But so disorder'd, that he scarcely knew
    His way, or what unwieldly weight he threw.
    His knocking knees are bent beneath the load,
    And shiv'ring cold congeals his vital blood.
    The stone drops from his arms, and, falling short
    For want of vigor, mocks his vain effort.
    And as, when heavy sleep has clos'd the sight,
    The sickly fancy labors in the night;
    We seem to run; and, destitute of force,
    Our sinking limbs forsake us in the course:
    In vain we heave for breath; in vain we cry;
    The nerves, unbrac'd, their usual strength deny;
    And on the tongue the falt'ring accents die:
    So Turnus far'd; whatever means he tried,
    All force of arms and points of art employ'd,
    The Fury flew athwart, and made th' endeavor void.

    A thousand various thoughts his soul confound;
    He star'd about, nor aid nor issue found;
    His own men stop the pass, and his own walls surround.
    Once more he pauses, and looks out again,
    And seeks the goddess charioteer in vain.
    Trembling he views the thund'ring chief advance,
    And brandishing aloft the deadly lance:
    Amaz'd he cow'rs beneath his conqu'ring foe,
    Forgets to ward, and waits the coming blow.
    Astonish'd while he stands, and fix'd with fear,
    Aim'd at his shield he sees th' impending spear.

    The hero measur'd first, with narrow view,
    The destin'd mark; and, rising as he threw,
    With its full swing the fatal weapon flew.
    Not with less rage the rattling thunder falls,
    Or stones from batt'ring-engines break the walls:
    Swift as a whirlwind, from an arm so strong,
    The lance drove on, and bore the death along.
    Naught could his sev'nfold shield the prince avail,
    Nor aught, beneath his arms, the coat of mail:
    It pierc'd thro' all, and with a grisly wound
    Transfix'd his thigh, and doubled him to ground.
    With groans the Latins rend the vaulted sky:
    Woods, hills, and valleys, to the voice reply.

    Now low on earth the lofty chief is laid,
    With eyes cast upward, and with arms display'd,
    And, recreant, thus to the proud victor pray'd:
    "I know my death deserv'd, nor hope to live:
    Use what the gods and thy good fortune give.
    Yet think, O think, if mercy may be shown—
    Thou hadst a father once, and hast a son—
    Pity my sire, now sinking to the grave;
    And for Anchises' sake old Daunus save!
    Or, if thy vow'd revenge pursue my death,
    Give to my friends my body void of breath!
    The Latian chiefs have seen me beg my life;
    Thine is the conquest, thine the royal wife:
    Against a yielded man, 'tis mean ignoble strife."

    In deep suspense the Trojan seem'd to stand,
    And, just prepar'd to strike, repress'd his hand.
    He roll'd his eyes, and ev'ry moment felt
    His manly soul with more compassion melt;
    When, casting down a casual glance, he spied
    The golden belt that glitter'd on his side,
    The fatal spoils which haughty Turnus tore
    From dying Pallas, and in triumph wore.
    Then, rous'd anew to wrath, he loudly cries
    (Flames, while he spoke, came flashing from his eyes)
    "Traitor, dost thou, dost thou to grace pretend,
    Clad, as thou art, in trophies of my friend?
    To his sad soul a grateful off'ring go!
    'Tis Pallas, Pallas gives this deadly blow."
    He rais'd his arm aloft, and, at the word,
    Deep in his bosom drove the shining sword.
    The streaming blood distain'd his arms around,
    And the disdainful soul came rushing thro' the wound.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    The difference in quality is... quite stark, even with Beale cannibalizing a lot, as you can clearly see.
     
    Last edited:
    WAIT

    Is he a goddamn Arianist?

    *froths at the mouth*
     
    Space Oddity said:
    Look, "when in doubt, yank a neologism out of your ass" is one of Beale's primary forms of argument. It helps that he mostly performs before his dedicated audience, who applaud and agree when he declares himself the victor.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Yes, but what is this particular neologism supposed to mean?

    AKuz said:
    WAIT

    Is he a goddamn Arianist?

    *froths at the mouth*
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    I am not in any way, shape, or form an expert on Christian theology, but I thought the Arian heresy was about the nature of the Trinity, rather than denying it exists altogether?

    That said, I'm now imagining him being punched by Santa Claus.
     
    krinsbez said:
    Yes, but what is this particular neologism supposed to mean?


    I am not in any way, shape, or form an expert on Christian theology, but I thought the Arian heresy was about the nature of the Trinity, rather than denying it exists altogether?

    That said, I'm now imagining him being punched by Santa Claus.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Arianist also expanded to refer to non-trinitarian heresies in the 4th century
     
    krinsbez said:
    Yes, but what is this particular neologism supposed to mean?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Much like Beale's neologism "scientistry"--which by the way he has matched with another positive neologism "scientody"--it generally means people practicing Christianity in ways Beale doesn't like. Still, he has gone off on it at length...

    Many churches have reduced Christianity to the parable of the Good Samaritan, to such an extent that their religion could be more reasonably described as Good Samaritanism than Christianity. And while they subscribe chiefly to salvation through works and societally-approved attitudes rather than faith, they nevertheless possess complete and utter faith in the intrinsic goodness of foreigners.

    Churchians (for it would not be strictly accurate to describe them as Christians) are liars and deceivers. They worship the god of Babel, not the Christian God. They serve the world, not Jesus Christ.

    But where does this religious obsession with improving the world through works come from, when it has been absent from Christian theology for the greater part of two thousand years? Indeed, the entire conceptual core of Christianity is fundamentally based on the nature of the world not only being fallen and imperfect and ruled by an immortal spirit of evil, but remaining that way until the Son returns, the Prince of the World is cast down, and the Kingdom of Heaven is established.

    Justice, in both Greek philosophy and proper Christian theology, is "rectitude of the will", as can be seen in Aquinas's Summa Theologica, specifically Secunda Secundæ Partis, Question 58, Article 1. And in the Christian sense, rectitude of the will is defined by conformity with God's will, which can be debated, but being immutable, is assuredly not defined by the ever-mutating social justice narrative.

    So social justice Christianity, or Good Samaritanism, or Churchianity, all amount to the same thing: a false form of Christianity that cloaks itself in Christian rhetoric while denying both the conceptual core of Christianity and the fundamental nature of the justice to which it nominally dedicates itself. And these false forms all flow from a concept that is considerably newer than Christianity, although it is related to an older religion.

    The term tikkun olam is from the rabbinic literature known as the Mishnah, which dates back to 1492 and is believed to come from an oral tradition that may be as much as a thousand years older. It appears in the phrase mip'nei tikkun ha-olam "to indicate that a practice should be followed not because it is required by Biblical law, but because it helps avoid social disharmony."

    The phrase is often translated as "for the sake of the healing of the world", which is why the expression appears in English as a directive to "heal the world" or "fix the world", but a better translation is "for the sake of the perfection of the world".

    In other words, the cuckservatives and other Churchians have elevated a literally extra-Biblical post-Christian concept that flies directly in the face of genuine Christian theology to a super-Scriptural level, then used it as the basis to judge both members of the Church and the Bible itself!
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Like most of Beale's arguments it is pathetic, stupid and evil, while imagining it is strong, smart and good, based on cherry-picking of the texts involved and leaps of logic so immense that if said argument were a person, they would be in orbit right now.

    krinsbez said:
    I am not in any way, shape, or form an expert on Christian theology, but I thought the Arian heresy was about the nature of the Trinity, rather than denying it exists altogether?

    That said, I'm now imagining him being punched by Santa Claus.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    *deep breath*

    Arian, so far as we know--remember, we have NONE of his writings--taught that Jesus the Son was distinct from the Father, and also subordinate to and created by the Father.
     
    Reader mode
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Remove ads
    Back
    Top