There is nothing like a little slavery and animal cruelty to pull in the tourists. In fact, many cities survive on the exploitation of other's peril alone, but none quite like Rome, Italy. With perhaps the exception of a deep southern Civil War reenactment, no one place takes on the slavery with such indifference. Everywhere a person looks there is someone celebrating one of the blacker spots on the history of humankind.
Yes, men donned the garb of warriors to fight lions…and tigers…and bears and, oh my, that would be frightening, but not nearly as frightening as the reason these men were fighting in the first place. Remember, gladiators were Roman slaves force to fight, usually to the death, for their freedom. And if I were enslaved by a tyrannical ruler, treated as though I were less than human, I too would probably consider the near certainty of death almost as liberating as a meager chance for real freedom. Yet, here we are as a society celebrating this savage practice with costumes, souvenirs, and all things that gather dust as we age.
Ten feet from the entrance into the Coliseum stands several guides wanting to help tourists, “Walk in the footsteps of the Emperors…” while they hear, “stories of Gladiator fights, [and] blood thirsty battles”— and hippies are considered to be threats to society. I suppose I am supposed to look at these stories of valor and strength as a testament to the resiliency of man…the knights—or Romans—in shinning armor. However, I am always stuck with images of the barbaric nature of man. The people, with any hope, we—as society—are teaching our children not to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment