MINDLESS MUSINGS

It is a scathing paradox that the rise of ‘civilisation’ would coincide with such unbridled subjugation. Once the numbers start to swell it becomes almost as inevitable as it is dreadful. The only way to avoid it is to put as much distance between your ‘primitive’ people and ‘civilisation’ as possible.

The quest for power, wealth and subjects was growing right alongside the population. More people equals more labour – more labour, more stuff. Why not get those people living in overcrowded ramshackle shelters to build massive structures of stone and marble? What better way to display just how important you are?

Once it’s built, those unwashed scumbags better not defile the place with their presence. I’m sure there’s some way we can exploit them somewhere else.

The longer it went on the more entrenched the nepotism would become; the concept of aristocratic lineage and entitlement. As soon as they could write it down it would have been the record – the family tree. “This privilege is our birthright because of great, great, great grandfather Scrooge…”

Probably best to leave out the stuff about the treachery and the arbitrary nature of his taking the Top Dog title. After a couple hundred years who can tell what fact is anyway and that is before you factor in the colossal amounts of bullshit most of these bloodline records must be full of.

“This noble status is our legacy!”

It would most often stop right there. If anyone was foolish enough to protest, they could be secretly dispatched or publicly tried as a traitor. Most people in this era were illiterate and could be very easily bluffed by an impressively dressed person holding out a book.

“It’s all written down right here”

If you hold the reigns, you control the narrative. Fear, ignorance and apathy will take care of the rest. Wrangling and muscling into the top spot was somewhat more difficult once the Dynasty had been created by the ones who inherited it from their ancestors who scammed and bullied their way to the top spot.

Impossible from the bottom, but the upper echelons could conspire against you, so you had to look strong and or smart. A great way to do this is by conquering territories and expanding the empire.

“Look how great WE are!” would be the exclamation.

Peasants working the fields, labourers building ludicrous structures wondering how this ‘greatness’ improves their lot. A good way to make them feel special is to instil the old superiority complex.

“We’re the original plebs. You Johnny come lateleys are beneath us”.

And slaves! Everyone gets to look down on slaves. There’s nothing like a pecking order to keep the riffraff distracted. No conquering without division. Keep them bickering amongst themselves over the few measly rungs at the bottom and they’ll never realise how high the ladder actually goes.

Then we have those shady middlemen: the guards or whatever name was given to the ones who ‘kept the peace’. Becoming a soldier and going off to fight would have been seen as an opportunity to rise from the rabble and find adventure; maybe even improve your social rank a little. Much like today most volunteers did so because their other options sucked major ass. A guard though? I’m not taking about a proper bodyguard or member of the security team for the honchos. I mean the hired goons responsible for keeping law and order.

Someone who walks the streets and breaks heads in the name of the king/ queen or whatever. A member of the lower class who now has authority over his former peers and a lot of discretion with how to use it. These guys weren’t detectives solving crimes, they weren’t even cops. They were riot police at best. Thugs employed to prevent the unwashed masses from rising up.

“The peasants are revolting!”

“Revolting” said the king, “They’re disgusting.”

And so, on it goes throughout history. Empires rise and fall; Family dynasties dominate and then topple. The masses do what they must to survive. A new face on the throne, a new flag perhaps. Take what you can get if they’re generous and watch your ass if they’re tyrannical.

Genealogy is written and re-written, updated and revised; history is written by the victorious after all. Nations form and dissolve. Our land becomes their land. You wanna keep it, you better fight for it. Alliances are formed, exploited and abandoned or betrayed.

This whole time it is only a small percentage of the population consciously attempting to orchestrate these events while the overwhelming majority are swept up and spat out with little idea of the grand scheme; and even less ability to control the fortunes of war and peace.

Somewhere between then and now the ledgers were stamped and generational wealth and power became accepted. People were born into a social class or station, and nobody questioned the legitimacy of the whole thing. That girl is an heiress and my dad shovels horse shit; guess it’s on me to try and climb out of this hole.

Lines were drawn on maps. This is our nation and it will remain that way until the outcome of the next war; then we shall see. This is my land, my property. No, I didn’t buy it. As a matter of fact, it goes so far back in my ancestry, I couldn’t even tell you who bought it.

Hmmmmm???

ROLAND: You’re not of noble birth!

WILLIAM: So we lie! How did the nobles become nobles in the first place? They took it. At the point of a sword.

A Knights Tale (2001)