And now, my beauties, something with poison in it, I think. With poison in it, but attractive to the eye -- and soothing to the smell. Poppies... poppies... poppies...

Currently watching The Greeks - Crucible of Civilization. Netflix.

Democracy was not a sure thing. The narrator intones that, indeed, life was nasty, brutish and short before the notion of government by the people created a society in which all people could willingly invest their energies and profit communally from the increased prosperity. Law, philosophy, science, theater, literature all followed.

Looking at these incredible, wrenching pictures I try not to descend into despair as I look at the primitive-seeming existence in that bleak god-forsaken land.

I shudder at that existence, the lack of knowledge and access to the world that we take for granted.

And the fact of our refined sensibilities (a luxury) illustrated by a warning about two of the pictures that depict carnage. How different from a culture that finds entertainment in the competition for the carcass of a calf.

Contrast those scenes to the formal rituals of grief for our fallen soldiers. Measured steps. Polished wood. A general genuflects before a grieving woman.

Civilization.

Our debt to those who have died so that our freedoms may be preserved and stand watch far away over a bleakness that shrinks the heart is great.