Ralph and I finally make it into the label pictures. We dressed up in gaudy bedsheets and then I photoshoped the results into the reproduction of the painting.
Here's the scoop:
The Death of Socrates
It is said that history belongs to the victorious. That may be true in most instances but there are also times when history is just plain wrong. Sometimes history is a lie, written down by people too ashamed to admit there had been a goof. Facts are distorted, asses covered.
This is certainly the case about the supposed trial and death of the ancient Greek philosopher and teacher Socrates.
In actual fact it was two brothers, Ralphades and Cloinimicus, who were brought up on corruption charges for a whole series of moral and immoral abuses. Socrates, other civic representatives and civil authorities were sitting on the tribunal to judge the crimes of the brothers, sentence them, and mete out immediate justice. The infamous cup containing the poison hemlock was sitting on a table nearby, next to a bottle of the brother’s attic brewed bounty being submitted as evidence.
In one of those classic mix-ups that the brothers are so infamous for Ralphades, somewhat dehydrated from the previous evening’s debacle, absentmindedly (his normal waking state) drank some of the potion of hemlock – to no apparent effect. He did comment to his brother Cloinimicus, as he passed the cup over to his sibling for sampling, that the stuff had quite a nice resin flavour. He then suggested they use it in their next batch of wine, if there ever was a next batch – ‘but not so much rat this time’. Thus ‘Ratsina’ was born.
This wine is like that, only no evergreens were killed in the making of it. Don’t ask about the rats.
Socrates was giving his lengthy speech of condemnation, already in excess of an hour. Mid rant he reached for something to help moisten his dry throat. Cloinimicus, being the helpful kind of reprobate he is, saw him motioning, thought he wanted the evidence bottle, and handed it to the poor guy.
He drank, he died, justice served.
The rest is history, of a sort.
The back of the card featured our motto and looked like this:
3 comments:
I'm hurt by the lack of a photo credit on this one! There I was, innocently visiting you at the Queen St. apartment, and you and Ralph come out from the back draped in patterned sheets and demand that I photograph you - what's a Muskoka boy to think? In fact, there's a good chance that's the first time I met Ralph, and subsequent meetings just don't equal that first exposure, and I use the term deliberately (perhaps bigger sheets would have lessened the impact).
The bad news is that I miscalculated the bounce flash off the ceiling and your lower halves are darker in the resulting photos. The good news is that it works in nicely with the chiaroscuro (or whatever) lighting in the painting - sometimes you get lucky.
I shall indeed give you credit for the photography and this is it.
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