On January 10, 49 B.C., Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon River at the head of Legio XIII. The rest? History. I can’t help but wonder what Julius was thinking about at that moment. Anticipation? Apprehension? Whether he had remembered to pay his insurance premium? Regardless, here’s my take. Took some wrestling to get this one done, and in the end, I had two cuts I really liked, which is a good problem to have,
Something tells me this story will be revisited in our lifetimes in more detail.
Behind The Music:
All the songs so far are here (LINK).
As of today, you can buy ALL of them (except for those that just came out since Sunday, which will go live in a few days, and the parodies) anywhere you buy music by searching for “Wilder’s Hammer” or “Wilder’s Brigade”. Although buying them doesn’t support this blog, it does support the owner the LLC for the music. Who might also own the LLC for the blog.
At the Banks of the Rubicon
By John Wilder
On the banks of that river, a cold wind whispers low
Legions wait in silence, at the dawn’s early glow
Enemies in the Senate, plot my downfall
Pompey calls for surrender, I hear a higher call
Years of conquest echo, Gaul’s blood fresh on my blade
Legion’s glory forged in battle, ambitions never fade
Yet doubt creeps like shadows, civil war’s the grim price
Rome’s streets run with Roman blood, a tyrant’s sacrifice?
The gods above are watching, fate’s thread in my hand
Turn away or cross now, and claim the promised land
Betrayal stings my spirit, loyalty torn apart
The Republic’s final breath, pierces through my heart
Bank of the Rubicon awaits, treason to cross that sand
Cross into storm, create imperial command
Thoughts of ruin, emotions clash like steel
Glory or the grave, seems so unreal
The Rubicon awaits, no way from this fight
For ten thousand years, men dream about the sight
Resolve ignites soul, courage feeds flame
For eternal Rome’s throne, I make my claim
Memories of triumphs, laurels on my brow
But rivals scheme in darkness, to strike me down now
The people’s voice is calling, they crown me in their cheers
Yet crossing means rebellion, and wars will bring tears
Emotions surge like tempests, pride and wrath entwine
Caesar’s heavy burden, a man or now divine?
What if failure claims me, exiled or in chains?
Or victory’s sweet nectar, flowing through my veins?
The river’s murmur taunts me, the boundary of my fate
A single step into the current, opens the Republic’s gate
Doubt and determination wrestle in my mind
The path to god or monster, leaving all behind
Bank of the Rubicon awaits, treason to cross that sand
Cross into storm, create imperial command
Thoughts of ruin, emotions clash like steel
Glory or the grave, seems so unreal
The Rubicon awaits, no way from this fight
For ten thousand years, men dream about the sight
Resolve ignites soul, courage feeds flame
For eternal Rome’s throne, I make my claim
Visions of the Forum, crowds in raptured thrall
Or skulls displayed in silence, a Republic’s rise and fall
My heart beats like a war drum, passion overrides
No more hesitation, the river calls . . .
decide
The Rubicon awaits, cross into the fray
Legions march behind me, Republic’s last day
Thoughts collide like lightning, I see fate’s wheel
A destiny to embrace, broken final seal
The Rubicon awaits, the die is cast
Alea iacta est (“The die is cast”) is a variation of a Latin phrase (iacta alea est) attributed by Suetonius to Julius Caesar on 10 January 49 BC, as he led his army across the Rubicon river in Northern Italy, between Cesena and Rimini, in defiance of the Roman Senate and beginning a long civil war against Pompey and the Optimates.
The phrase is often used to indicate events that have passed a point of no return.
to which I would reply today – Sic transit gloria mundi
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sic_transit_gloria_mundi
refering to the possibility of open (un)civil war in the USA and the fall of a united America
This is simply another example of this blog having the best comment section on the Internet.
I mentioned this term to a young person a few weeks ago and the response was he didn’t think there were enough people doing the cube to have a convention. It is obvious the school system has met their objectives.
When there is open insurrection and there no repercussions, it means the plan is being followed.
They were going to ruin Caesar, so he thought, “What the hell, let’s throw the dice.” Many such cases.
AIdolatry says not to cross and thinking is so hard.
Hahahaha! You know, I don’t think Caesar thought too hard, and was probably more concerned about what his scouts said about the route being open to Rome.
Our time is littered with such conveniences. The cloverleafs technology offers to those who might wander from the plantation. Just as one door opens to kindle some spark of who we were and from where we have come, it is offered the wet tinder of some new iteration of the same old fallacy that we can become better humans if first we abandon some of our humanity.
Just a little bit. At first. Those things which have been determined to be vestigial, no longer needed. Like writing. Cursive. Reading the old stacks in the library. The process, the pursuit itself, is a waste of time you see. And so we keep progressing around that clover until we arrive back on the information superhighway of hubris with the carrot of all that free time still dangling from the stick. The solution? Forward!
Our guys love affair with “Elon Musk” for example. Who promises that if we lay back and think of the Constitution while the better men lay the new infrastructure of our freedom all around us, we will be free from the burdens of even having to work. The automated intelligence approximation machines will liberate us from the long approach to the summit. It will be all selfies at the top.
Unrelated. The women cheer as they burn it all down.
What is lost to that sort of Progress? Don’t be such a luddite. Certainly, when the serpent promised Eve the world beyond the mind God gave her it was for the greater good. Look how far we have come since then! My daughter is a Top Lawyer.
We cross such rivers every day. Never considering the headwaters or what gathers downstream. Just our wet socks. So unpleasant. Perhaps they will invent some boots to keep the water out. I’ll wait for that.