Thursday, 12 February 2015

Mini-Post: Allegory for a Long Week

Sometimes, you just feel tired and worn out.  Like the universe has given you as much as you can handle, and then some.

Source: David Castor
Take Mary here.  She's like, "I didn't ask for a baby.  I didn't even do anything to warrant a baby coming to be.  And now I have this baby and it has strained my marriage, complicated my sexuality, and caused me to flee to another country.  But he will not take my last solace.  HE CANNOT HAVE MY LAST DRUMSTICK."

Tuesday, 3 February 2015

Stop! In the Name of Love (and a Horse)

Some time ago, this image on Ugly Renaissance Babies caught my eye:

 I love this picture.  These are the most epic babies I have ever seen.  The one in the middle will claw out your liver without a second thought.  His friend on the right is pleading with his eyes that you’ll just drop it so Baby 1 doesn’t lose it again, because he is sick of cleaning up the blood.  Baby 3 is seeing his life flash before his eyes, right before his intestines do in a Mortal Kombat-esque finishing move.

But I wondered: what IS this painting?  What is happening in the rest of it?  Does it all ooze as much drama as these little guys?

It turns out this snippet is a part of “The Intervention of the Sabine Women,” and it is every bit as action-packed.

The Intervention of the Sabine Women – Jacques-Louis David, 1799 (Source 1 2)
The story goes that the Romans went and abducted some Sabine women, so the Sabines went and tried to get them back, and here the Sabine women are trying to stop the violence.  This lady is either trying to intervene, or finish her yoga session.

I think this lady is welcoming the opportunity to be invaded.

Fortunately for her, the warriors came with the latest in practical battlewear.

Of course, some people seem less interested in the warriors than they are in absconding naked with a horse.

It is perhaps worth noting that this painting is apparently intended to reflect the artist’s hope for the people of France to reconcile after the Revolution.  Which I think speaks volumes: nothing says post-revolution France like well-oiled nude men with spears, ravaged women, and a deep affection for Mister Ed.