History wants so badly for Cleopatra to be beautiful. Like they can’t conceive of Rome being intimidated by anything less
because being a linguist, fleet commander, and powerful ruler doesn’t matter, only her looks
Her Arab contemporaries raved about her being very interested and knowledgeable in the sciences.
She completely reformed the system in Alexandria, and Egypt at large; making it much more of a functional powerhouse.
She did what 300 years of her ancestors couldn’t: Managed to get the support of both the Greek AND Egyptian subjects she ruled.
There is a sculpture that has been identified as her, through comparisons to coins minted under her rule, that proves beyond a doubt that she wasn’t particularly beautiful.
It isn’t that people just happen to believe it by mistake. Rome was fucking terrified of her and painted her as a vapid, scheming, beautiful, sex obsessed queen to discredit her to their people. She was a threat, and that was how they handled it. The unfortunate thing is that that is the most surviving record of her. A smear campaign against one of the smartest, most powerful women in human history.
This is a woman who became her father’s co-ruler at nearly 14 years old in order to train for her actual ascension to the throne, who was forced to marry her own siblings in order to keep her power, and it’s widely believed that she poisoned them so she could rule alone. She’s a Pharaoh who led Egypt into a new era of wealth, who went fearlessly into war to protect her rule and Egypt’s independence from the Roman empire, a woman who took her own life rather than face being raped and tortured by her conquerors, knowing full well that she was leaving her surviving children in their uncertain mercy. Cleopatra is one of the most interesting, morally ambiguous, complexing historical figures we have and the media has turned her into a tantalizing sex object for the male gaze.
Even after Cleopatra died her influence on those around her lived on: her daughter, Cleopatra Selene, was the only child of Cleopatra’s to live to adulthood, and she became queen of Mauretania along with her husband Juba and it’s believed they married for love, which was extremely rare for that time period, especially among nobles/the upper class. Not only did she grow up in the house of her mother’s worst enemy and technical murderer, but she still went on to become a queen who possessed an equal amount of political power as her husband, even having her face minted on coins on the opposite side of his likeness, showing they were equal rulers.
Cleopatra and her influence on history, and her daughter’s legacy, have both been brushed aside in favour of the sexy Cleopatra visage. It’s bullshit. Egyptian mythology is interesting and vivid, and full of powerful women and it’s bullshit that we take some of the most powerful women in Africa’s history and try to turn them into fashion icons or sluts who only ruled through toying with men.
I’m not gonna lie, I’d want a wedding like this, I mean: Richard Armitage looking adorable as ever, the maid of honor dressed as the Doctor, and the other bridesmaids dressed as Daleks.
thevicarofdibleyquotes.co.uk
At John’s wedding Sholto asks about his therapist and John is like GREAT VERY HELPFUL GLOWING REVIEWS, John is obviously trying to convince Sholto to seek some kind of professional mental health treatment
So after John’s wedding Sholto finally does, because he almost let someone murder him at John Watson’s wedding
And after months and months of one-on-one Sholto finally joins a veteran’s support group, and that’s where he meets him, a man with quiet eyes and a prosthetic leg who insists on calling him Major out of respect
And they get to know each other and Sholto trusts him because he knows what it was like out there, and he doesn’t judge him for the bad days or the good days for that matter
And eventually Sholto works up the courage to invite him to dinner at his secluded country home and he comes and when he laughs his eyes crinkle and when it starts to get late and the fire starts to die Quiet Eyes admits that half the struggle of serving was not being able to serve openly, having to hide himself and the boyfriend back home who eventually left him because they had to keep it secret, and Sholto takes his hand and admits that there could’ve been something there, something with a captain he served with on base, but the captain was married now
And Quiet Eyes says sometimes the struggle isn’t having to lie about who you are in Afghanistan, sometimes the struggle is having to lie about who you are at home, and Sholto thinks about Sherlock Holmes and sitting there on his sofa in front of the fire he finally lets John go and leans over and kisses Quiet Eyes and doesn’t think about John while he does it at all
@watsonshoneybee
—
They both move awkwardly; a miss-match of limbs progressing, insect-like, down the hall to the meeting room; the step-step-click-step of feet and the brush and swing of three arms only.
The man with one leg holds the door for him, Sholto placing a palm on the glass above his head to hold it open while he regains his balance and moves inside. They sit next to one another by silent agreement even though at this stage they’ve exchanged nothing more than a nod.
They introduce themselves one at a time around the hub of the councillor, and they talk. Sholto doesn’t say much, though he listens, and that’s nearly as good. The man with one leg speaks only briefly, and only to offer support. He’s been here a while, Sholto thinks. Maybe he’s run out of things to say.
Afterwards, balancing coffee cups on narrow surfaces around the room, the man says, “You’re a major, aren’t you?”
Sholto, who has only introduced himself as ‘James’, feels uncomfortable. “Technically,” he admits.
“Then you are,” the man says simply, in a way that brooks no argument. It irks Sholto.
“I don’t use it anymore.”
“May I?”
Sholto touches his coffee to his lips and frowns; is this part of the group therapy? Owning your past and your identity or some such, or perhaps this is something the other man has been told to work on. He has no answers to the situation and in the end he doesn’t refuse.
“Major,” the other man says before he leaves, offering him a hand. A heartbeat later, Sholto grasps it loosely. The man’s quiet sadness feels tangible between their palms and he regrets his earlier recalcitrance.
“Next week,” he says. The man with one leg nods.
“I’ll look forward to it.”
—-
that time Andy Samberg explained that Holt being gay isn’t a joke
Andy Samberg seems like he really doesn’t follow the “PC culture is killing comedy” line of thought and I really love that
(Source: http://maplejustice.tumblr.com/)
self promo on tumblr like
Oh my fucking god
I CACKLED OHMUGID
(Source: http://nightmareloki.tumblr.com/)
How do I know I am a millennial? I require no explanation for anything entertaining. I show my folks a funny video of a cockatoo having an argument with a dude jumping on its empty cage, and they’re like, Where did you find this? Why is that happening? I don’t know. I don’t care. It was on the Internet. That’s the only context I can give you.
I’m not quite a millennial, but I feel this because I showed hubby the History of Japan video and he was just like WTF is this?
