Nomos of War – Telegram
Nomos of War
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"They have their so-called “Free Square,” where the royal palace and other government buildings are located. The hucksters with their wares, their cries, and their vulgarities are excluded from this and relegated to another part of the city, in order that their tumult may not intrude upon the orderly life of the cultured."
~ Xenophon, Cyropaedia
"The divisions remaining at home, in their turn, pass their time shooting with the bow and hurling the spear and practising all the other arts that they learned when they were boys, and they continually engage in contests of this kind with one another. And there are also public contests of this sort, for which prizes are offered; and whatever division has the greatest number of the most expert, the most manly, and the best disciplined young men, the citizens praise and honour not only its present chief officer but also the one who trained them when they were boys. And of the youths who remain behind, the authorities employ any that they may need, whether for garrison duty or for arresting criminals or for hunting down robbers, or for any other service that demands strength or dispatch."
~ Xenophon, Cyropaedia
"Such was the education that Cyrus received until he was twelve years old or a little more; and he showed himself superior to all the other boys of his age both in mastering his tasks quickly and in doing everything in a thorough and manly fashion."
~ Xenophon, Cyropaedia
Forwarded from Union of Nazbols (Koba)
Putin is not eternal, he is just a man like us and he won't have long left In power no matter what happens in regards to the war.

As we speak the Russian Elites are turning on eachother, the people are restless, poorer and angry about the SMO even if they support it or they don't, when Putin is gone there will be another Russian power vacuum worse than the 90s, and morph into a crisis similar to 1917, be ready for it.

The economic situation globally is causing severe unrest and this should absolutely be exploited, do whatever you can to make people turn on the government and the global capitalist system, it too is not eternal.

Now is not the time for the common people to allow ourselves to be distracted or divided, this is a once in a generation opportunity to gain serious momentum, don't waste it

Best of luck to all of you, victory is there for the taking.

-Koba
Cyrus was already proven in manliness at 12 years old, and sent on for youthful education.
I can imagine studying justice and hunting would be more difficult to prove oneself than modern education.
"Such was the education that Cyrus received until he was twelve years old or a little more; and he showed himself superior to all the other boys of his age both in mastering his tasks quickly and in doing everything in a thorough and manly fashion. It was at this period of his life that Astyages sent for his daughter and her son; for he was eager to see him, as he had heard from time to time that the child was a handsome boy of rare promise."
~ Xenophon, Cyropaedia
"When Astyages dined with his daughter and Cyrus, he set before him dainty side-dishes and all sorts of sauces and meats, for he wished the boy to enjoy his dinner as much as possible, in order that he might be less likely to feel homesick. And Cyrus, they say, observed: “How much trouble you have at your dinner, grandfather, if you have to reach out your hands to all these dishes and taste of all these different kinds of food!”
“Why so?” said Astyages. “Really now, don’t you think this dinner much finer than your Persian dinners?”
“No, grandfather,” Cyrus replied to this; “but the road to satiety is much more simple and direct in our country than with you; for bread and meat take us there; but you, though you make for the same goal as we, go wandering through many a maze, up and down, and only arrive at last at the point that we long since have reached.”

“But, my boy,” said Astyages, “we do not object to this wandering about; and you also,” he added, “if you taste, will see that it is pleasant.”
“But, grandfather,” said Cyrus, “I observe that even you are disgusted with these viands.”
“And by what, pray, do you judge, my boy,” asked Astyages, “that you say this?”
“Because,” said he, “I observe that when you touch bread, you do not wipe your hand on anything; but when you touch any of these other things you at once cleanse your hand upon your napkin, as if you were exceedingly displeased that it had become soiled with them.”

“Well then, my boy,” Astyages replied to this, “if that is your judgment, at least regale yourself with meat, that you may go back home a strong young man.” And as he said this, he placed before him an abundance of meat of both wild and domestic animals.
And when Cyrus saw that there was a great quantity of meat, he said: “And do you really mean to give me all this meat, grandfather, to dispose of as I please?”
“Yes, by Zeus,” said he, “I do.”
Thereupon Cyrus took some of the meat and proceeded to distribute it among his grandfather’s servants, saying to them in turn: “I give this to you, because you take so much pains to teach me to ride; to you, because you gave me a spear, for at present this is all I have to give; to you, because you serve my grandfather so well; and to you, because you are respectful to my mother.” He kept on thus, while he was distributing all the meat that he had received."

~ Xenophon, Cyropaedia
2
“Why, pray, Cyrus, did you imitate Sacas [the cupbearer] in everything else but did not sip any of the wine?”
“Because, by Zeus,” said he, “I was afraid that poison had been mixed in the bowl. And I had reason to be afraid; for when you entertained your friends on your birthday, I discovered beyond a doubt that he had poured poison into your company’s drink.”
“And how, pray,” said he, “did you discover that, my son?”

“Because, by Zeus,” said he, “I saw that you were unsteady both in mind and in body. For in the first place you yourselves kept doing what you never allow us boys to do; for instance, you kept shouting, all at the same time, and none of you heard anything that the others were saying; and you fell to singing, and in a most ridiculous manner at that, and though you did not hear the singer, you swore that he sang most excellently; and though each one of you kept telling stories of his own strength, yet if you stood up to dance, to say nothing of dancing in time, why, you could not even stand up straight. And all of you quite forgot—you, that you were king; and the rest, that you were their sovereign. It was then that I also for my part discovered, and for the first time, that what you were practising was your boasted ‘equal freedom of speech’; at any rate, never were any of you silent.”

“But, my boy,” Astyages said, “does not your father get drunk, when he drinks?”
“No, by Zeus,” said he.
“Well, how does he manage it?”
“He just quenches his thirst and thus suffers no further harm; for he has, I trow, grandfather, no Sacas to pour wine for him.”

~ Xenophon, Cyropaedia
3
Forwarded from Lazarus Symposium
“This is the wasteland of the Western Front. It is the great putrid scar of mud and decaying, rotting flesh that's been cut across the face of Europe. This is the work of a man who was trapped inside his own recurring nightmare. Otto Dix and his generation had borne witness to these horrors, but they'd also been witness to the death of the 19th century faith in inevitable, unstoppable progress. What they'd learned in the trenches was that savagery and barbarism weren't external, to be found only in the colonies, but inside all of us. They had seen that industry and progress and the supposed triumph of Enlightenment rationalism did not guarantee the survival of civilisation. And it was them, the poets and the artists and the painters of the trenches, who best understood what Europe had been through and who best foresaw the horrors that lay ahead.”

David Olusoga, The Cult of Progress, Civilisations (BBC 2018)
Forwarded from Solitary Individual
I looked out a suitable cellar, with a deep dugout, and returned for the last time to my dwelling-place on the western edge of the village.

During the night I fancied I heard a crash now and then and shouts from my batman, but I was so dazed with sleep that I only murmured, ‘Oh, let them shoot!’ and turned over, though the whole place was thick with dust. Next morning I was awakened by little Schultz, Colonel von Oppen’s nephew, who was shouting, ‘I say—don’t you know yet that your whole house has been blown to blazes?’

When I got up and surveyed the damage, I observed that a shell of the heaviest caliber had been planted on the roof, and that the observation post, indeed the whole house, was no more.


[Ernst Jünger, Storm of Steel]
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