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I Am Beautiful
2007-10-01 - 3:39 p.m.
before/after
strangely
non-functional guestbook
I Am Beautiful
Caligula was a
twisted fuck.
Among a litany of bizarre, debauched, comical, and incredibly cruel
acts, one has caught my attention.
And no, its not the rumor of Cal appointing his horse a consulship of
Rome. �Nor making the troops gather seashells.
Or the fact that his horse had marble stalls with a golden trough,
minstrels, and allowance, freedmen, slaves and his own apartment for
the times his horse decided he needed to receive guests.
Nor is it the cross-dressing, the filandering, stealing a bride on her
wedding day at the reception, fucking the senators wives at the
banquets he held after inspecting them like hookers, the numerous
torturings, irrational and paranoid executions, poisonings, and
humiliations of everyone he felt the slightest bit of jealousy towards,
including the public humiliation and tortuous death of a man because he
had a full head of hair, whereas Cal did not.
No, the one that caught my attention is this:
�"He often danced at night, and once, at about midnight, summoned three senators
of consular rank to the Palace; arriving half-dead with fear, they were conducted to a stage upon which, amid a tremendous racket of flutes and clogs, Gauis [ed. note Caligula]suddenly burst, dressed in cloak and ankle-length tunic, performed a
song and dance, and�disappeared again." (Suetonius, The Twelve Caesars)
I can only imagine the 'WTF' looks that passed between these three
guys. �Also consider that being a thespian back then was
nothing
like being an actor these days. �Back then it was considered
somewhere on par with being a whore in terms of social standing and
respect, two things that were the life and death of every Roman citizen.
"WTF, dude? Did I just SEE that?"
Coupled with, "Are they going to kill me now?"
Of course, Cal was sent to the afterlife shortly thereafter.
For whatever reason, it makes me think of George Bush. �Can
you
imagine being hustled to the West Wing of the White House late in the
dead of night by the FBI, sure you're going up the river on some
nebulous 'terrorism' charges, only to have good ol' crazy George jump
out from behind a curtain in full drag and makeup, belting out his
favorite scene and song from 'Miss Saigon', and then disappear again
without a word?
Or better yet, Cheney?
Yeah, we're in the shit right now with our government, but if a
peaceful transfer of power can take place then it won't be as bad as it
has been historically.
That is, until Cheney moves in on your wife. �Or husband, for
that
matter. �And then railroads you up to the capitol for a
special
one-man-show midnight performance of 'Oh Susanna'.
Then you know we're all fucked.
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