Humorous Wedding Speech: I Am Ales Hero !
I am Ales Hero! I know that I am the strongest and attractive man here. With a few years behind me, I have become wise and handsome. In public I must painstakingly compose myself in the certain manner that we are required to do so. Tonight is a different story! I shall show everyone who I truly am! I am a warrior, a lover, and a leader! Tonight, I will show every man and woman in this room who the real hero is, and that is Ales Hero! This symposium is the best even of the year for us men. The experiences that take place here are like no other. This event is a drinking party where we sip on wine, and do things that we could never imagine doing outside of this place. Out there, we are all so similar and perfect in the publics’ eye. Here we get to be ourselves, compete against one another, see who the real men are, all while having the ability to express love and compassion. This symposium provides liberation from our everyday restraints. The men attending the symposium loved all sorts of different aspects of it. This event allows us to do all kinds of things that we would never consider doing out there in public, unless we wanted to look like a fool that
…show more content…
is. The first thing to do was always grab your cup of delicious wine. The symposiarch, or overseer of the symposium, would decide how strong the wine would be for the evening. Mixing it with water altered the strength of the wine. The strength of the wine was decided upon whether serious discussions or sensual indulgence were taking place. The drinking of straight wine, not mixed with water, was that of uncivilized people.
One of the next best things to do here is to start off by reciting poetry, making jokes, gossiping, or playing music! This light social interaction tends to break the ice among one another. Things tend to be a very stiff and awkward here at first, as we are not used to this. Us men are not usually allowed to act out and speak out with emotion; but here we are. Once we get some wine from the first krater flowing through our blood, we begin to lighten up and let ourselves act freely. I personally am one of the best joke makers, writers, and socializers at this symposium. I have no troubles taking part in any of these aspects of the symposium.
A little further into the event, games of skill began to take place. One game to note was that of Kottabos. This was a game of skill, which is played by flinging wine lees at targets. Then the player utters the name of the object of his affection. I was one of the best players of this game! Tossing a portion of my wine from my cup, and as it passes through the air it almost always landed perfectly into the plastinx. Then knocking off the plastinx perfectly, I would make it fall to the manes, making a bell like sound. This clearly requires the upmost dexterity and focus, which I have the most of.
Once us men started into the second krater of wine, we began into the personal social aspect of the event.
Me being a bit older and wiser man, I am very interested in mentoring a younger man. Of course we have slaves and women here, but women cannot take on or pass on wisdom. They are nothing more than slaves and women. I can have sex with any woman here if I wanted to, but it doesn’t have any sort of meaning any further than that; it is just sex. I am here to have a truly beneficial relationship, with pure love, where I can better someone and myself. There are a handful of younger men who need to be watched over, learn the ways of a wise man, and become a better man. There is no other older man here that could mentor a younger man better than I can. I am the wisest, strongest, noble, and most heroic of them
all.
One thing to note is the dangerous aspect to some of the men here. I will never have a dangerous worry in mind, as I am the smartest man here, but some should worry. The symposium is the greatest event of the year, but it brings danger with the kinds of freedom it brings for one night. There are occasions where men let themselves go to far. Most of our lives we are restrained into living just like one another; quiet and hard working. But when some men come here, they turn into wild satyrs and act out too strongly. They can fully lose themselves here, and will never be able to recover from it again.
This year’s symposium had a krater sitting in the center of the room. This krater is what held all of the wine, which was mixed by the overseer as I said before. Other men and servers would frequently approach the krater to extract wine for themselves, or to fill others cups. Often times you would see someone refill the large drinking cups, as they were often times depleted from being passed around the symposium. Everyone approached the krater with caution, and in a grand gesture as they reached into the krater. This krater was the center of the symposium; it was what drove the symposium. The perfectly mixed wine is what perfected this event.
Before I knew it, people began discussing this scene depicted on the krater. Other men tried to prove their wisdom over everyone, as they told the story of how this krater was that of their aristocratic ancestry, punishing a thief or traitor. Other men tried to take the scene, and twist it into a story about them and their past family taking up a heroic and noble deed, when in reality I was smarter than them all and knew exactly what was taking part on this krater. One older man even had the nerve to grab a syrinx instrument and play a piece of music dedicated to how this krater was that of his ancestry. What a fool!
I now had my chance to speak out, to show how wise I really am. Other older man never recognized me as a powerful and smart man, but I am, and now is my chance. I grabbed a forminx instrument, and began strumming a dark and grim piece of music. I began telling the true and threatening story of how a women, Clytemnestra, rose in power over her husband, Agamemnon. The husband, Agamemnon, was returning home from the Trojan War. He was looking forward to stepping foot back into his home to see his beautiful wife and son. Little did he know, Clytemnestra had been planning for years to avenge the death of their daughter Iphigeneia. When Agamemnon was away at war, Clytemnestra had taken a new lover, Aegisthus. He as well had his own reasons to kill Agamemnon, so it was a perfect match.
On the one side of this krater, it shows Clytemnestra standing behind an older man. She had the long draper to her ankles of a woman, the tie to hold her long hair up, and the gracious stance of a woman. The older man in front of her was slightly older, with a long thick beard, and a short draper down to his upper thighs. It depicts him grasping the head of a worn, older man, clearly weak as he was just returning from war. This weak, tired man, about to be murdered, was Agamemnon. On the other side of the krater, it shows Orestes, a young man. He had no beard, his skin was tight, body was muscular, and he wore the armor of a young warrior. It depicts him grasping the old and weaker Aegisthus by his head, as he is about to plunge his sword into his gut; avenging the murder of his father. As I slowly lower the tone of the forminx strums, the men around me are astonished and disgusted. How could a woman take upon the power and deceit to plot an entire revenge murder, as soon as her warrior husband returns from the Trojan War? How could a woman take upon such a cunning thing, and do such as thing to her husband? Each and every one of our stomachs was twisting, as was mine. The thought of this story brought great anxiety among us all. Us men are the wise, the powerful, and the leaders. Could a woman be smart and strong enough to do such a thing?
This struck all of us men, and we started discussing into the matters of our power and how no woman could ever do such a thing to us. We were wiser and more powerful than any woman in the world. We were mentored as young men, taught to be wise, and we now were here to take a younger man in and mentor him. We discussed some serious matters on the future of our status and our families. The biggest worry of us all was how we were going to continue living in security and power. I truly believe that the best thing we could do is to make myself the leader of us all, to ensure us older men stay in power. As the wine was thickly flowing through our blood, I had my eye on a younger man whom had his eye on me. I was ready to enjoy my peaceful night, as I pass my wisdom upon another person. It was time for me to create a loving relationship. It was time for me to better this young man.
is. The first thing to do was always grab your cup of delicious wine. The symposiarch, or overseer of the symposium, would decide how strong the wine would be for the evening. Mixing it with water altered the strength of the wine. The strength of the wine was decided upon whether serious discussions or sensual indulgence were taking place. The drinking of straight wine, not mixed with water, was that of uncivilized people.
One of the next best things to do here is to start off by reciting poetry, making jokes, gossiping, or playing music! This light social interaction tends to break the ice among one another. Things tend to be a very stiff and awkward here at first, as we are not used to this. Us men are not usually allowed to act out and speak out with emotion; but here we are. Once we get some wine from the first krater flowing through our blood, we begin to lighten up and let ourselves act freely. I personally am one of the best joke makers, writers, and socializers at this symposium. I have no troubles taking part in any of these aspects of the symposium.
A little further into the event, games of skill began to take place. One game to note was that of Kottabos. This was a game of skill, which is played by flinging wine lees at targets. Then the player utters the name of the object of his affection. I was one of the best players of this game! Tossing a portion of my wine from my cup, and as it passes through the air it almost always landed perfectly into the plastinx. Then knocking off the plastinx perfectly, I would make it fall to the manes, making a bell like sound. This clearly requires the upmost dexterity and focus, which I have the most of.
Once us men started into the second krater of wine, we began into the personal social aspect of the event.
Me being a bit older and wiser man, I am very interested in mentoring a younger man. Of course we have slaves and women here, but women cannot take on or pass on wisdom. They are nothing more than slaves and women. I can have sex with any woman here if I wanted to, but it doesn’t have any sort of meaning any further than that; it is just sex. I am here to have a truly beneficial relationship, with pure love, where I can better someone and myself. There are a handful of younger men who need to be watched over, learn the ways of a wise man, and become a better man. There is no other older man here that could mentor a younger man better than I can. I am the wisest, strongest, noble, and most heroic of them
all.
One thing to note is the dangerous aspect to some of the men here. I will never have a dangerous worry in mind, as I am the smartest man here, but some should worry. The symposium is the greatest event of the year, but it brings danger with the kinds of freedom it brings for one night. There are occasions where men let themselves go to far. Most of our lives we are restrained into living just like one another; quiet and hard working. But when some men come here, they turn into wild satyrs and act out too strongly. They can fully lose themselves here, and will never be able to recover from it again.
This year’s symposium had a krater sitting in the center of the room. This krater is what held all of the wine, which was mixed by the overseer as I said before. Other men and servers would frequently approach the krater to extract wine for themselves, or to fill others cups. Often times you would see someone refill the large drinking cups, as they were often times depleted from being passed around the symposium. Everyone approached the krater with caution, and in a grand gesture as they reached into the krater. This krater was the center of the symposium; it was what drove the symposium. The perfectly mixed wine is what perfected this event.
Before I knew it, people began discussing this scene depicted on the krater. Other men tried to prove their wisdom over everyone, as they told the story of how this krater was that of their aristocratic ancestry, punishing a thief or traitor. Other men tried to take the scene, and twist it into a story about them and their past family taking up a heroic and noble deed, when in reality I was smarter than them all and knew exactly what was taking part on this krater. One older man even had the nerve to grab a syrinx instrument and play a piece of music dedicated to how this krater was that of his ancestry. What a fool!
I now had my chance to speak out, to show how wise I really am. Other older man never recognized me as a powerful and smart man, but I am, and now is my chance. I grabbed a forminx instrument, and began strumming a dark and grim piece of music. I began telling the true and threatening story of how a women, Clytemnestra, rose in power over her husband, Agamemnon. The husband, Agamemnon, was returning home from the Trojan War. He was looking forward to stepping foot back into his home to see his beautiful wife and son. Little did he know, Clytemnestra had been planning for years to avenge the death of their daughter Iphigeneia. When Agamemnon was away at war, Clytemnestra had taken a new lover, Aegisthus. He as well had his own reasons to kill Agamemnon, so it was a perfect match.
On the one side of this krater, it shows Clytemnestra standing behind an older man. She had the long draper to her ankles of a woman, the tie to hold her long hair up, and the gracious stance of a woman. The older man in front of her was slightly older, with a long thick beard, and a short draper down to his upper thighs. It depicts him grasping the head of a worn, older man, clearly weak as he was just returning from war. This weak, tired man, about to be murdered, was Agamemnon. On the other side of the krater, it shows Orestes, a young man. He had no beard, his skin was tight, body was muscular, and he wore the armor of a young warrior. It depicts him grasping the old and weaker Aegisthus by his head, as he is about to plunge his sword into his gut; avenging the murder of his father. As I slowly lower the tone of the forminx strums, the men around me are astonished and disgusted. How could a woman take upon the power and deceit to plot an entire revenge murder, as soon as her warrior husband returns from the Trojan War? How could a woman take upon such a cunning thing, and do such as thing to her husband? Each and every one of our stomachs was twisting, as was mine. The thought of this story brought great anxiety among us all. Us men are the wise, the powerful, and the leaders. Could a woman be smart and strong enough to do such a thing?
This struck all of us men, and we started discussing into the matters of our power and how no woman could ever do such a thing to us. We were wiser and more powerful than any woman in the world. We were mentored as young men, taught to be wise, and we now were here to take a younger man in and mentor him. We discussed some serious matters on the future of our status and our families. The biggest worry of us all was how we were going to continue living in security and power. I truly believe that the best thing we could do is to make myself the leader of us all, to ensure us older men stay in power. As the wine was thickly flowing through our blood, I had my eye on a younger man whom had his eye on me. I was ready to enjoy my peaceful night, as I pass my wisdom upon another person. It was time for me to create a loving relationship. It was time for me to better this young man.