A poem I wrote when I was feeling sensitive

I pissed on my neighbor's car
They got really angry at me
I told them it used too much gas
Then I got arrested for disorderly conduct

So I set their house on fire
And shot them in the face
With a chicken cannon
Spraying chicken and people gibs everywhere

It was horrible
I feel bad now
But now I feel better
Because I wrote a poem

- Ten Ton Mantis (PD.com forums)

The 10 Commandments of Solon

Much thanks to Richard Carrier and EvilBible.com for pointing this out to me.

Basically, this is about the 10 Commandments given by Solon the Athenian, one of the Seven Sages of Ancient Greece, the founder of Athenian democracy (and thus western democratic tradition) and a poet of some note.

I originally studied him as a poet, which is why I plead ignorance over this topic until the above two bought it to my attention. Personally, when I did Greek history I found political reform and constitutions as dull as hell. Give me a good myth, or battle, or verse over that any day (I'm very Greek in that respect, I suppose).

Anyway, his ten Ethical Dicta were as important as hell in guiding the American founding fathers in their creation of a universal democracy and thus the spread of democratic ideals in Europe and around the world, probably much more so than even mystical Judaism, (one of the few theological theories that values individuality). Unlike the claims of certain Bible thumpers, Solon has far more to do with the establishment of modern society than that near mythical figure called Moses.

The Ten Commandments of Solon ( as recorded in Diogenes Laertius' Lives of Eminent Philosophers, 1.60), runs as follows:

1. Trust good character more than promises.
2. Do not speak falsely.
3. Do good things.
4. Do not be hasty in making friends, but do not abandon them once made.
5. Learn to obey before you command.
6. When giving advice, do not recommend what is most pleasing, but what is most useful.
7. Make reason your supreme commander.
8. Do not associate with people who do bad things.
9. Honor the gods.
10. Have regard for your parents.

Obviously, nine is a bit...iffy, but if you put that aside for a moment (I will come back to it) you can see how much more these ideas have advanced civilization than the ideals of Moses and his 10 Commandments.

The problems with nine can be dealt with, if you are prepared to think of "gods" as all the gods of the people in society. The exact word used by Solon, as noted by Mr Carrier, is timaô, which means "to honor, to revere, to pay due regard". Mr Carrier correctly points out

Solon asks us to give the plethora of gods the regard that they are due, and we can say that some gods are not due much--such as the racist gods and gods of hellfire. In the end, it is good to be respectful of the gods of others, which we can do even if we are criticizing them, even if we disbelieve in them.

Solon's commands are far more fitting for that of a modern society than practically anything in the Bible. I hate to say it, but not only do the Greeks have far better literature and politics, they now also have superior moral grounds to those of ancient Israel. Is it not about time we started to recognize that our societies have more than one influence and to stop this foolish Judeo-Christian reductionism once and for all?

Richard Carrier has a far superior article where he goes into greater depth on this topic, and it can be read here.

HAIKUS FOR OPIEZ, BY CHEF

CLYDE'S RETIREMENT PLAN:
TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS WORTH OF
LOTTERY TICKETS.


NEIGHBORS OFFENDED
WHEN JAKE'S COUSINS USE HIS YARD
AS AN RV PARK.


AFTER CHILD SUPPORT,
CLETUS CAN EITHER PAY RENT
OR TRUCK PAYMENT.


PAM BLAMES PREGNANCY
ON FALLING ASLEEP BEFORE
BOYFRIEND COMES TO BED.

Ubergoth Poem

Roses are black,
Violets are dark and doom-ridden,
Sugar is a conformist thing,
And so are you.

Hymn to Eris

How Eris' deadly spear does shake!
How the whole temple shakes! Away, away with the fearful!
It must be Strife kicking at the door with her fair foot.
Do you not see? The Delian palm nods gently,
All of a sudden; the lance sweeps beautifully in the air.
Bolts of the doors, thrust yourselves back.
Keys--open the doors! For the god is no longer far away.

So, young men, prepare yourselves for fighting and death.
Eris appears not to all, only to the worthy.
He who sees her is great; who does not is lowly.
We will see you, hard-hearted Eris, and we will never be lowly.
Let the cithara not be silent.
Nor your step noiseless with Strife approaching, you children,
If you intend to complete the vows and to ward off Horkos,
And if the wall is to stand on its aging foundations.
Well done the youths; the strings are no longer at rest.

Be silent and hear the song of Eris's glory.
Even the sea is silent, for bards celebrate
The two edged blade or spear, weapons of immortal Strife.
Neither does mother Thetis dare to lament for her Achilles
If she hears, the Lady of Sorrow walk.
Even the weeping rock forgets its griefs--
The sobbing stone forever fixed in Phrygia,
Marble where once a woman gaped sorrowfully.
Cry, "Hie, Hie" it is a poor thing to contest the blessed.
May he who fights with the blessed fight my king,
And may he who fights my king also fight with Eris.
The chorus which sings to Eris with its heart
She will honor. She has the power; even Zeus will not challenge her.
Neither will the chorus sing of Eris for only one day;
She is worthy of many hymns. The brave readily sing of Strife.

Golden is Eris' apple and yet she threw its gold away,
As are her eyes and two bladed sword and sheath of gold;
Golden is her hair, for Eris is rich in gold.
Rich in possessions; for competition brings it own reward.
Always fair, always terrible! Never does
the blood of slain touch her weapons of choice.
Her hair drips the sweat of toil to the ground,
But streaming from the locks of Eris is not fat.
But victory. In the city where these dew drops
Fall to earth all things are secure.

None is so versatile in battle as Eris.
She watches over the cunning; she watches over the bard;
Eris' are both the dagger and song.
Hers are the prophets and prophetesses; from Enyo
Soldiers learn the skill of hastening death.

We call her the goddess of apples since that time
When by the fault of Kheiron she was not invited to honour Peleus
And with burning anger did take the golden apples of the Hesperides.
With ease she did carve the words “to the Prettiest”
And then rolled it into the wedding hall
Where the three goddesses fought for
Their own vanity and so bought about the,
destruction of the fairest city of Troy.

Men who take cities are followers of
Enyo, for she rejoices in the
art of war and cunning, and Eris herself lays the plans of attack.
At the start of creation Eris fought the Olympians
Acting as escort for the infernal dragon
Strife was Typhon’s escort in the mellay
While the thunderbolts with booming shots reveled
like dancers in the sky, she took no side
Seeking to stop the rulership of either side
Thus did Eris find wisdom inbetween opposing forces

Eris also showed Medea how to aid Jason,
And so defeat the harvested men of Drakon,
Blessing the crested helm with death-bringing hand.
To grant them the fleece. Eris' favour is forever valued.
Oh Eris! Many call you Discordia,
Many Strife. Everywhere he has many a name
But I call her Enyo, as did my ancestors.
Sparta, was among your most loyal.
Scythia second, and third the towns of Thrace.
From the sacking of fairest Ilium by the Achaens
Travelled you to the strife of Thebes. And from Thebes
the battles of Dionysos brought you to the Indian fight,
And he made you there a fine fight. In the city
He prescribed a continuing ritual, Enyo, in which
Many bulls fall to their haunches and die.

Hie, hie, Strife, rarely invoked! Your altars
flow in the blood of all the tyrants and defilers
who would nurture our foes and do us harm,
As well as the destroyers of good. For you the eternal fire,
And never does the ash feed on the coals of yesterday.
Enyo rejoiced greatly when the girded men of Athens
Danced with death and slew the Persians
When the awaited war season came round.
But the Hellens were not yet able to reach
Xerxes' might. They still lived in divided and fractured cities.
The Lady saw these herself and showed them how to fight
As she stood on the jagged hills of Thermopylae, where
Leonidas' men slew the lions of Persia, the Immortals in battle.
Eris has seen no other dance more divine,
Nor, mindful of the previous crimes, had she granted such benefits
To any people as to the doomed. Nor have the children of freedom
Honored any god more than Strife.

"Hie hie Discordia" resounds because her people
Of Thrace first established this refrain
When with your two-edged blade you gave proof of your skill.
A fantastic beast faced you as you descended to nether pits,
A horrible beast. You slew him with one swift blow,
One swift strike after another. The people cried
"Hie hie Enyo! Slew the beast!" Your mother surely
Begat you as a helper, and since then you live in song.

Envy spoke secretly into the ear of Eris,
"I do not honor the singer who does not sing so great as is the sea."
Eris kicked Envy with her foot and spoke thus:
"The stream of the Assyrian river is great, but it bears
In its water much waste from the earth and much refuse.
The bees do not carry to Deo just any water
But what was pure and unsullied, a small, trickling stream
From a sacred spring, its finest product."
Hail, Lord. Ridicule and Envy away!

----------------------------------

My own minor homage to the master poet Callimachus. Admittedly, this is more the old Eris than the modern one the Discordians like (all the events bar one can be found in Greek myth, if you're willing to spend the time searching) and a vast amount of Callimachus' Hymn to Apollo was stolen for the structure of this, but I still like it. So there.