5/22/2006

My Confession [MAY 21, 2006]

The way those large, erect cylinders draw my gaze from afar. The way they gleam in the sweaty, hot sun. The way that smooth surface, the closer you get, reveals itself to be marked with the slight imperfections inevitably associated with the passage of time... Hello, everyone. My name is GC Philo and I’m hear to admit that I have a problem. I’m a "Roman ruins" junkie.


Oh yeah, baby. Let me see those columns. You KNOW how I like it!

It all probably started back in my early teenage years, that time of constant change and self-reflection when we all try to discover who we really are. My parents flew the whole family over to Greece one summer and took us around those famed centers of Hellenic Antiquity – Athens, Corinth, Olympia and even Delphi. As we wandered the scattered stones and rubble occasionally interspersed with a pristinely preserved mosaic or engraving, I felt my imagination run wild. I was no longer in an age of video games and blue jeans, but one of Olympic olive wreaths and togas. I could see how those people – the most civilized Europe would witness until the High Renaissance some 1500 years later – lived and worked. I also saw how cruel history could be. It had the power to change a once mighty civilization, one that had dominated the known world for centuries, into a heap of marble that now only commands the attention of Japanese tourists’ cameras.



Lovely, lovely mosaics... Especially the ones that show little midgets with huge penises shooting storks.
You complete me - You had me at Hello.

Somehow, though, the Romans always interested me more than the Greeks. I mean, even though the Greeks started it all, the Romans did it more grandly, more enduringly, and more erotically. This healthy interest in Roman orgies, in fact, eventually developed into my Bachelors Degree in History. Okay, okay – I won’t lie to you. It’s even one of the main reasons why I moved to Europe in the first place. If this is going to be a true confession, I need to let it all out... I had to get my "Roman ruins" fix somehow and when the oldest thing you can find back home is a crappy Indian arrowhead from 1600, Philadelphia just doesn’t cut it anymore. Here in Spain, I’ve got enough smack to hold me over for a lifetime.


You can't find something like this back home in America.
Then again, I've never been to California.

I try to visit every Roman, or the rarer Greek and Phoenician, ruin no matter where I am and usually spend hours wandering through what was once the heart of these great towns. But, like I said, I’m a junkie and junkies don’t just look at the sights and snap a photo or two. No, they always go overboard in their strange and delusional ways and I’m no exception in the way that.... (I knew these "Roman ruins" Anonymous confessions were going to be tough, but not this tough.) I guess it’s time to come completely clean. You see, I actually adopt a Latin name for myself and those who are traveling with me each and every time I set foot on an archaeological site. Worse yet, throughout our visit, I only refer to the others in my party with these names. I know, I know... I need help. That’s why I’m here.


Sometimes I just hide in the shadows of Roman ruins and stare at tourists.
I call that my "special" time.

My Latin name is Testicles (emphasis on the last syllable just like in "Japanese"). My fiancée has grudgingly come to accept hers, Breasticlina, as well. But these are by no means the limits of what is indeed the sick and twisted reality within my head. I have wandered through Roman ruins in Morocco with Forgetfulcus. I have scaled the interior of the Colosseum with my ex-girlfriend Alcoholica Maxima only to see her change into Cunnilinga as we walked through the Pompeii city gates later on that very same week. I have witnessed the power of my old room-mate Flatullus Extremis as he expelled those famed noxious fumes within the very walls of the Athenian Acropolis itself. Even my own brother, Testicles Major, made a brief appearance in Cologne, Germany when I least expected to see him... Not to mention my father, Baldicus Maximus, and my friend from high school, Fat Fuckicus (who coincidentally happens to be a bit overweight), when they both decided to visit us here in Spain last spring.


"I assure you, Baldicus Maximus. There's no way THIS citizen
is casting his vote for Fat Fuckicus as next Roman Pro-Consul!"

However that, dearest support group, is not the extent of my dilemma. If only it were! You see, I also feel the need to speak in an antiquated fashion each and every time I visit these archaeological sites. I can almost remember the first time my lovely finacée and I stepped foot in a Roman theater together:
"What ho, Breasticlina?"
"What?"
"‘What ho?’ I say!"
"Are you calling me a ho?"
"Surely you jest. ’Tis I, Testicles. Forsooth, your heaving bosom knows no bounds. ’Tis no mere coincidence that your moniker bears witness to such a claim!"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Tut, tut. How you amuse me so! Such unfound modesty from a goddess whose brassiere can but barely contain the awesome fury within. Aphrodite herself shudders with envy!"
It kept going on like that for about ten minutes until she eventually started to ignore my crazed ramblings. Afterwards, once we stepped foot past the exit gate, I explained to her what had happened and only then did she fully understand.


So you already knew the Romans could build temples to last, but did you also know they had underground heating?

Breasticlina, though, has since learned to live with my illness. She humors me now every time we walk under an aqueduct or through a temple, and sometimes even cracks a joke. But I know that, under that smile, she’s actually crying. It is for her that I need to break this addiction and for her that I’m giving you this confession. I need to nurture the GC Philo she once fell in love with... not the Testicles I have grown to become.


"Very funny and imaginative, dear. Calling me Breasticlina because I have large breasts.
But why are we calling you Testicles, then? Those midgets in the mosaics had a bigger package!"

Breaking this bad habit, though, isn’t going to be easy here in Spain. The land of Hispania, as most of modern day Spain and Portugal were known to the Latins, contained some of the most peaceful and prosperous provinces in the entire Roman Empire. For this reason, Spain (along with Italy) is home to some of the best preserved two thousand year old sites the Western World has to offer. In the south of Spain alone, there are the extensive ruins of Italica (a few kilometers outside Seville) which was the birthplace of both Emperor Trajan and Emperor Hadrian and is home to the third largest amphitheater in the Roman Empire with a seating capacity of 25,000. There is also Mérida, once known as the "Rome of Iberia" and current capital of the Spanish region of Extremadura, which was more populated two thousand years ago with over 100,000 Latin-speakers than it is today with a bit under 50,000 Spanish-speakers. In fact my current home, the port of Cádiz, claims to be the oldest city in Europe having been founded by the Phoenicians, who named it Gadir, some three thousand years ago. A couple of the sights in Cádiz include a Roman theater nestled between a few modern apartment buildings and a Roman military wall that runs through the city center and fuses with whichever random building that happens to cross its path. How am I supposed to kick this nasty habit when the ghost of Testicles haunts me from every corner and I know that, no matter where I step, there are countless layers of un-excavated artefacts below my feet?


"Where do you live in Cádiz?"
"Go past the supermarket and, across from the basketball courts, make a left at the Roman theater. You can't miss it!"

That’s why I’ve come here today to this "Roman ruins" Anonymous meeting and decided to give this confession. I know that I need help and I also know that, by letting my addiction be known and admitting it to myself, I’m one step closer to finding a cure. It may not be easy and the journey will most likely be long and arduous, but it’s one that I’m willing to take in order to stop the suffering that I’m putting my loved ones through. They deserve better, especially my lovely Breasticl – I mean, fiancée. Just as importantly, I deserve better than to live life from one fix to another. That’s why I’ve decided to give it all up. Cold turkey. Come July, I’m saying my farewells to this land of unending Latin temptations and dashed orgiastic dreams. The only way to put that final nail in the coffin of Testicles and silence him, once and for all, is to deny the filthy beast the one thing he craves. In two months time, I’m off to ruin-less Prague and leaving this Spanish whore behind... You see, the Romans never made it as far north as the Czech Republic. I hope that it’ll work.

14 comments:

ViVi said...

Well, that was a bit of a shock, at the end. Happy travels, then!

My father suffers from a similar affliction. When he comes to France, does he want to see the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame? Oh no, it's Roman ruins all the way, baby! You crazy men, you!

Chirius said...

Great read, loads of laughs, but ultimately - sad news.
Testicles, old chap, I'll be in my native Calpe in late June, July and August, so if you and Breasticlina wish to explore the Roman ruins at Carteia (the bits that Franco left uncovered when they built the oil refinery) or Bolonia, give us a shout.

matt said...

I'm sure you could find some gnarly nuts swinging in the breeze by the stately palms. ha

ramblingwoman said...

LUCIUS says:

Now I would be REALLY impressed if you broke into Latin when you entered the Roman ruins!

You are truly afflicted...but are you moving to Prague or just visiting it?

I have an affliction - I have to visit menhirs, and other Celtic vestiges wherever I go! (No, I can't speak Celtic!)

Margaret said...

The Roman ruins in France are quite something. I didn't realize that you were in Spain; I loved it there when I visited several decades ago. (tapas--yum) You see that I'm much more about the entertainment than the history. And you haven't missed much by not getting to California. There are many beautiful spots in CA--but you are in one with much more to offer!

The Expatriator said...

Hey dude, you're leaving us? Is this permanent? WTF?

I got some info for ya when you get a chance... catch me on MSN.

Last night I went to a party with an American friend of mine and we were telling his wife about bigtitsandpussy... first, of course, explaining the title, and then onto explain the flatulus biggus brought on by the Moroccan coffee... and other stories. He's a journalist and looking for writers... don't know if you'd be interested ;). He still has to read the Bohemian, but I have a feeling he'll be on it soon.

Oh yeah, and good entry, lots of laughs!

Ms Bees Knees said...

an addiction like yours is never sated. persevere my sweet testicul.. oh lord. i can't even say it. hahaha.

GC PHILO said...

Unfortunately, yes everyone. The news is true. Come July, España and Cádiz are old news. Breasticlina and Testicles sat down last week over a warm cup of cocoa, had a long hard (sometimes a bit too hard and often sweaty at times)look at each other, and decided to make the leap together. Starting next school year, we will both be corrupting the minds of impressionable youths in Praha and the Česká Republika. This is all for the best as far as my addiction is concerend and, just as importantly, is where we want to get married. It'll be easier to make all the arrangements from Prague and, besides, Czech beer is leagues ahead of Spanish brew and only one-third the price. But do not fret faithful readers, I'll keep writing about all the crazy quirks those Czechs have (and trust me, there are A LOT!) between each of my 5 euro pilsner-drinking binges!

J.Doe said...

I loved those Latin names and the dialogs. HA HA HA.
You should write a book.

lettuce said...

Very entertaining - I look forward to reading your musings about Prague and all things Czech.

Love the names. My daugher regularly calls her father Gluteous Maximus... and after watching Life of Brian with her again last night, no doubt it will be Incontinentia Buttocks for a while.

The Expatriator said...

Hey j.doe. He did write a book. And it's good.

Go read it.

Brendan said...

Anytime you want to come and check out the Roman ruins in Rome, let me know.

Anonymous said...

We brought our video cameras to Spain and posted our collection of big huge tits for your enjoyment.
Big Huge Tits

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