OFFICIAL FIRST MARY RANT.!.!.!.!. THE HELL WITH EVERYTHING EVER FOREVER!
Specifically, Aeneas. Seriously, fuck that guy. Lameass Prince of Troy, whose mom is that slut Aphrodite. He accomplishes nothing during the entire 10 years of the Trojan War except escape, and he even manages to fuck that up by carrying his father out, who is old as fuck and about to die anyway, and leaving his wife behind. Who is totally fertile and still useful, unlike the literal dead weight of Dad. A dad who, according to this painting, wears Santa hats, even though it will be many hundreds of years before the first Christmas.
So he does escape the flames of his former city by running away like a stinking coward, and immediately sets out on an epic quest of failure. The first thing he does after he gets the hell away from those angry scary Greeks is bury his stupid dead dad and cry a lot.
The next thing he does is wander aimlessly around for a while, because he is too lazy and cowardly to do as his mom says even though she's a goddess and he really has no choice. The terrible fate she intends for him? Marrying a beautiful, rich, young princess and founding a family line that will eventually lead to Romulus. Literally the only thing he has to do to fulfill his "glorious" destiny is fuck his future wife. That's it. And he doesn't want to, because he's a total weakling.
There are more reasons why I hate him, but they can wait for another day. All this rage has made me sleepy.
There are so many reasons to hate Aeneas. When I was in seventh grade, my parents made me take Latin instead of French or Spanish. While all my friends got to eat French food or watch telenovelas in class, I got to sit in an overheated room translating the Aeneid. When Aeneas finally, at long, long, loooooong last died, we had a party. When I came to class the next day, my long-suffering classmates and I realized that the "action" of the story had moved to the underworld. Sob!
ReplyDeleteI spent a large portion of my teenage years wishing that Aeneas had died early in the middle of the desert and not received a proper burial, thus leading his soul to be devoured by the 3-headed dog Cerberus. It would have made my childhood happier.