This week I started thinking about Sisyphus and hedonic treadmills and such.
And then thinking about gods having the same unending chores we all do.
Even rich and powerful characters cannot opt-out of the Sisyphean work of staying alive.
Being immortal has to get a little tedious after a while, right?
Like, an unending journey to where exactly?
Think too long about this, and everyone becomes a human-version of absurdity in motion.
And the one dude who managed to hop off the hedonic treadmill and just frolic about, a merry pervert? Well, that’s one god that actually DIED.
The gods have to be gods of something—doing stupid jobs, representing brands...
And even if your dad is a SACRED COW, the nepo-baby thing was waaaaay more brutal in ancient Crete.
The chores never end for anybody. Sigh. On that note, I’ll close out with a god particle reference instead of mentioning another god.
Because it’s just been that sort of peripatetic thinking sort of a day.
Have fun with your boulders!