Tepe Quotes

It's the idea that people living close to nature tend to be noble. It's seeing all those sunsets that does it. You can't watch a sunset and then go off and set fire to your neighbor's tepee. Living close to nature is wonderful for your mental health.

You’re awfully quiet, Princess,” Puck said as he arranged the firewood into a tepee. His slanted green eyes shot me a knowing look. “In fact, you haven’t said a word since his royal iciness left. What’s wrong?” “Oh.” I cast about for an excuse. No way was I telling Puck about my feelings for Ash. He’d probably challenge him to a duel the moment he walked through the door. “I…um…I’m just weirded out, you know, with all those wiremen bodies around. It’s kinda creepy, like they might come to life and attack us while we’re sleeping.

- Neden bu kadar kötümsersin? - Sen neden değilsin? Çevrene bakmıyor musun? En mutlu görünenlerine bile? Bütün bunlar üç oda, bir mutfak, iki çocuk ile başlıyor. Sonra? Haydi bayanlar, baylar! Bu fırsatı kaçırmayın. Siz de girin, siz de görün. Üç perdelik dram. Birinci kısım: Dağlar dümdüz. İkinci kısım: Ne çok tepe! Üçüncü kısım: Ova batak. Bugünlük bu kadar baylar. İyi geceler. Yarın gene bekleriz.

Eric followed Vlad Tepes’s stubby finger, identifying me as the future Happy Meal. Then he stared at Dracula, looking up from his kneeling position. I couldn’t read his face at all, and I felt a stirring of fear. What would Charlie Brown have done if the Great Pumpkin wanted to eat the little red-haired girl?

No, the problem at Göbekli Tepe is the pristine, sudden appearance, like Athena springing full-grown and fully armed from the brow of Zeus, of what appears to be an already seasoned civilization so accomplished that it “invents” both agriculture and monumental architecture at the apparent moment of its birth.

Dracula —” He paused. “Dracula—Vlad Tepes—is still alive.

To put Göbekli Tepe in context, its megaliths predate Stonehenge by at least six thousand years. They predate the first literate civilizations of Egypt, Sumer, India, and Crete by even more. Unearthing this kind of Stone Age sophistication so deep in our past is like finding out your great-grandparents have been secretly coding apps and trading cryptocurrency behind everyone’s back.

Me and the folks who buy my food are like the Indians -- we just want to opt out. That's all the Indians ever wanted -- to keep their tepees, to give their kids herbs instead of patent medicines and leeches. They didn't care if there was a Washington, D.C., or a Custer or a USDA; just leave us alone. But the Western mind can't bear an opt-out option. We're going to have to refight the Battle of the Little Big Horn to preserve the right to opt out, or your grandchildren and mine will have no choice but to eat amalgamated, irradiated, genetically prostituted, barcoded, adulterated fecal spam from the centralized processing conglomerate.

We have no idea what the builders of Göbekli Tepe actually called the place. With the appearance of writing, we are beginning to hear history through the ears of its protagonists. When Kushim’s neighbours called out to him, they might really have shouted ‘Kushim!’ It is telling that the first recorded name in history belongs to an accountant, rather than a prophet, a poet or a great conqueror.1

I became an historian in order to preserve my own history forever- Dracula.

Max walked back to Beeson, sidestepping a slalom path of dog turds leading into the kitchen. He’d narrowly missed standing in a tepee of turds that looked too deliberately arranged to be natural.

I walked her to her door and said good night, while Romeo waited. "I'll see you in the morning," I said, 'when the barking dogs arouse the sleeping tepee village and the smell of roasting coyote is in the air." "My sisters will prepare me," she said. "I shall come to your wickiup in my white doeskin dress and lose my innocence on your buffalo robe." "I will give you little ornaments to put in your hair, black as the crow's wing. I will give you red flannel and a looking-glass so that you may groom yourself." "I'd also like to have a little spending money and a charge account at Wormser's," she said. "Good night, Maiden Who Walks Like a Duck." "Good night, Warrior Who Chickens Out at the Least Sign of Trouble.

No one noticed Witch Baby as she went back inside the cottage, into the room she and Cherokee shared. Cherokee's side of the room was filled with feathers, crystals, butterfly wings, rocks, shells and dried flowers. there was a small tepee that Coyote had helped Cherokee make. The walls on Witch Baby's side of the room were covered with newspaper clippings - nuclear accidents, violence, poverty and disease. Every night, before she went to bed, Witch Baby cut out three articles or pictures with a pair of toenail scissors and taped them to the wall. they make Cherokee cry. "Why do you want to have those up there?" Weetzie asked. "You'll both have nightmares.

At six thousand or more years older than the stone circles of Stonehenge, the megaliths of Göbekli Tepe, like the deeply buried megaliths of Gunung Padang, mean that the timeline of history taught in our schools and universities for the best part of the last hundred years can no longer stand. It is beginning to look as though civilization, as I argued in my controversial 1995 bestseller Fingerprints of the Gods, is indeed much older and much more mysterious than we thought.

Even the highest branches cannot deny that they have roots in a common bond.

As far as Popescu was concerned, meanwhile, Dracula was simply a Romanian patriot who had resisted the Turks, a deed for which every European nation should to some degree be grateful. History is cruel, said Popescu, cruel and paradoxical: the man who halts the conquering onslaught of the Turks is transformed, thanks to a second-rate English writer, into a monster, a libertine whose sole interest is human blood, when the truth is that the only blood Tepes cared to spill was Turkish.

Larissa's father was Vlad Dracul? Vlad Tepes? Vlad the fucking Impaler?" Tepes translated meant "the Impaler," something Connor clearly knew. "Yeah." Surprising him, Connor let out a loud laugh. "Man I bet her family just loved that she mated with a shifter." A weight on Aiden's chest lifted at his Alpha's reaction. "You have no idea.

Only by binding together as a single force will we become strong and unconquerable

Göbekli Tepe.

discovering that hunter-gatherers had constructed Göbekli Tepe was like finding that someone had built a 747 in a basement with an X-Acto knife.

Vladimir Putin had once been known as Vlad Tepes, or Vlad the Impaler, the inspiration for Dracula. And that he had also, in fact, been Grigori Rasputin before the Russian Revolution of 1917.

Çiçektepede çiçekler açılınca , gün ışığında ilk önden minaresi tenekeden bir cami kuruldu. Caminin minaresini kurulduğu günün gecesinde rüzgar söküp uçurdu. Kulaktan kulağa yayılan minareyi bulup getirenin her tuttuğunun altın olacağı söylentisi yüzünden uykularından olanlar dere tepe gezenler çıktı. Tüm aramalara rağmen minare bulunamadı. Kayıp minare tartışması günlerce sürüp gitti. Çiçektepede bu tartışmaların sonucunda İslamın beş şartına Geceleri minare tutmak diye bir şart daha eklendi. Çocuklar sakatlar emzikli ve gebe kadınlar özürlü kabul edildi. Onlara minare tutmak günah sayıldı.

It may well be that foragers switched from gathering wild wheat to intense wheat cultivation, not to increase their normal food supply, but rather to support the building and running of a temple. In the conventional picture, pioneers first built a village, and when it prospered, they set up a temple in the middle. But Göbekli Tepe suggests that the temple may have been built first, and that a village later grew up around it.

İnsan tabiattan bile bıkıyor. İnanmazsın bütün manzaraları gülünç bulurum. Bize vaktiyle öğretmişler ki, dağ, dere, tepe, deniz, mehtap güzel şeylerdir. Bu telkin altında, kendimize bunları güzel göstermeye çalışıyoruz. Bana, öyle geliyor ki, güzel hakkındaki telâkkilerimiz tekâmülü muhtaçtır. Artık basma kalıp manzalardan hoşlanmıyorum. İçimde herşeye, tabiata, sanata, kadına karşı bir tiksinme var. Galiba yaşamaktan pek yorulmuşum.

Vlad Tepes era horriblemente cruel, pero no era un vampiro, por supuesto. No encontrarás ninguna mención a Vlad en el libro de Stoker, pero este reunió información util sobre leyendas relacionadas con los vampiros, y también sobre Transilvania, sin haberla pisado nunca, aunque Vlad Dracula gobernó Valaquia, que tiene frontera con Transilvania. En el siglo veinte, Hollywood toma las riendas y el mito continua viviendo, resucitando, Ahi termina mi frivolidad, por cierto.

Early ethnographers have described North American Plains Indians so hypnotically involved in gambling with buffalo rib bones that losers would often leave the tepee without clothes in the dead of winter, having wagered away their weapons, horses, and wives as well.

Today, racism is regarded as a crime if practiced by a majority—but as an inalienable right if practiced by a minority. The notion that one’s culture is superior to all others solely because it represents the traditions of one’s ancestors, is regarded as chauvinism if claimed by a majority—but as 'ethnic' pride if claimed by a minority. Resistance to change and progress is regarded as reactionary if demonstrated by a majority—but retrogression to a Balkan village, to an Indian tepee or to the jungle is hailed if demonstrated by a minority.

Camped somewhere deep in an impenetrable crag of the immense Powder River Country during the late autumn of 1856, more than likely in the shadow of the sacred Black Hills, one imagines the thirty-five-year-old Red Cloud stepping from his tepee to listen to the bugle of a bull elk in its seasonal rut. Around him women haul water from a crystalline stream as cottonwood smoke rises from scores of cook fires and coils toward a sky the color of brushed aluminum. The wind sighs, and a smile creases his face as he observes a pack of mounted teenagers collect wagers in preparation for the Moccasin Game, or perhaps a rough round of Shinny. His gaze follows the grace and dexterity of one boy in particular, a slender sixteen-year-old with lupine eyes. The boy is Crazy Horse, and the war leader of the Bad Faces makes a mental not to keep tabs on this one.

As a child she was always reading: Even at meals she would sit and scan the back of the juice box. She must have read it a million times: aspartame and xanthan gum and red no. 9. It wasn't a conscious thing; she just seemed to feel uncomfortable when her eyes weren't fastened to a page.

«Ascolta, so come ti senti: sei prevenuto, hai paura, ti senti insicuro, credi che la felicità per te sia irraggiungibile. Ti assicuro che non è così. Io non ti lascerò mai, sarò sempre al tuo fianco, malgrado i tuoi sbalzi d’umore e la tua stronzaggine. Ci sarò per te, ci sono sempre stata. E ti amo, Elijah, dovresti saperlo.» Annuisce, ma l’espressione combattuta non va via dal suo viso. Non crede ancora di meritare la felicità. Non può vivere così, deve lasciarsi il passato alle spalle, prendere coscienza del fatto che da ora in poi la nostra vita sarà insieme, amarmi con tutto se stesso e mettersi in gioco. «Anche io ti amo e cercherò di dimostrartelo, di essere più ottimista. Mi fido di noi e so che il nostro amore è fortissimo, che siamo un’unica cosa e niente può separarci, nemmeno le mie insicurezze del cazzo.» Mi alzo sulle punte e assaggio le sue labbra con frenesia «Così ti voglio» mormoro. Si morde il labbro, incastrandomi con uno sguardo malizioso. «Io ti voglio in qualsiasi modo» esclama.

W ere you aware,’ began Lord Ruthven, ‘that there are people in these isles whose sole objection to the marriage of our dear Queen – Victoria Regina, Empress of India, et cetera – to Vlad Dracula – known as Tepes, quondam Prince of Wallachia – is that the happy bridegroom happened once to be, in a fashion I shan’t pretend to understand, a Roman Catholic?

E' come stare a un passo dal paradiso e sentire nello stesso tempo le ultime fiamme dell'inferno.

It didn’t take long for the Assyrians to completely stamp out the Hittite culture.

One of the most popular and widely celebrated Anatolian mythological figures is Shahmaran,

for thousands of years, few people knew that the Hittites and Mitanni had ever existed.

He did not look like a man who could stomach life's indignities, whether it was a closed door or an uncomfortable, vertigo-inducing passage through a birth canal.

She laughed a lot, and easily. It wasn't until we actually became friends that I realized she was often very sad. America is like that, I must say, free and easy until you know better.

Liv sighed. “There’s plenty of oxygen going to all the logs. I used a classic tepee structure. Unless the laws of physics have changed, I don’t know why—” “Do we have to do this the Mortal way?” Ethan looked at Lena. She nodded. “More fun.” John struck another match. “For who?” Ridley held up her hand. “Hold on. That sounds like camping. Is this camping? Am I camping?

-Neden bu kadar kötümsersin? -Sen neden değilsin? Çevrene bakmıyor musun ?En mutlu görünenlerine bile? Bütün bunlar üç oda,bir mutfak,iki çocuk düşü ile başlıyor.Sonra ?Haydi bayanlar,baylar!Bu fırsatı kaçırmayın.Siz de girin,siz de görün.Üç perdelik dram.Birinci kısım:Dağlar dümdüz.İkinci kısım:Ne çok tepe! Üçüncü kısım:Ova batak.Bugünlük bu kadar baylar.İyi geceler.Yarın gene bekleriz.

Tepetaklak gidiyorsun diye söylendi kendi kendine ve güldü. Bunu söyler söylemez ırmağa ilişti gözü, ırmağın da tepetaklak yuvarlanıp gittiğini gördü, boyuna tepe üstü akıp gittiğini ve bi arada şarkılar söylediğini, neşesini elden bırakmadığını. Bu hoşuna gitti, dostça gülümsedi ırmağa. Sularında boğulmak isteği ırmak değil miydi bu, bir zamanlar, yüzyıl önce? Yoksa düşünde mi görmüştü bunu?

There were some hours to spare before his ship sailed, and having deposited his luggage, including a locked leather despatch-case, on board, he lunched at the Cafe Tewfik near the quay. There was a garden in front of it with palm trees and trellises gaily clad in bougainvillias: a low wooden rail separated it from the street, and Morris had a table close to this. As he ate he watched the polychromatic pageant of Eastern life passing by: there were Egyptian officials in broad-cloth frock coats and red fezzes; barefooted splay-toed fellahin in blue gabardines; veiled women in white making stealthy eyes at passers-by; half-naked gutter-snipe, one with a sprig of scarlet hibiscus behind his ear; travellers from India with solar tepees and an air of aloof British Superiority; dishevelled sons of the Prophet in green turbans, a stately sheik in a white burnous; French painted ladies of a professional class with lace-rimmed parasols and provocative glances; a wild-eyed dervish in an accordion-pleated skirt, chewing betel-nut and slightly foaming at the mouth. A Greek boot-black with box adorned with brass plaques tapped his brushes on it to encourage customers, an Egyptian girl squatted in the gutter beside a gramophone, steamers passing into the Canal hooted on their syrens. ("Monkeys")

This is nothing, Walks the Fire. My anger came when you would not speak of your sadness.I thought you longed for the whites,that you cared nothing for us,that you feared telling me.To have many sons would be a wonderful thing. I cannot lie about that.But if having many sons means I must take another woman, then I would choose no sons and keep Walks the Fire in my tepee.Your heart cries out for children....my heart cries out only for you,best-beloved.

We are used to things starting out small and simple and then progressing--evolving--to become ever more complex and sophisticated, so this is naturally what we expect to find on archaeological sites. It upsets our carefully structured ideas of how civilizations should behave, how they should mature and develop, when we are confronted by a case like Göbekli Tepe that starts out perfect at the beginning and then slowly devolves until it is just a pale shadow of its former self.

Again, the uncertainty in the estimate pales into insignificance when we look at the overall trend. Over the 11,000 years separating Göbekli Tepe from the International Space Station, the scale of cooperation, when measured by the labor costs of the most impressive building project, went up by four orders of magnitude—from 300 to 3,000,000. This is a huge—indeed, an astronomic—increase. And, of course, it was paralleled by an equally enormous increase in the scale of human societies. ·•·

E ora? Non mi ami più? Non senti il cuore battere come un cazzo di tamburo? Lo stomaco sottosopra e il cervello fuso? Non senti quel fuoco quando siamo così vicini, quella voglia di toccarmi, sbattermi contro un muro e baciarmi finché non abbiamo più fiato? Be’… io sì

Most of us have heard by now that the government is supposedly developing a new variety of the qiguo, superior in flavor, more stable in its effects. They say it will be sweeter, that its trees will bear fruit in all seasons. Especially as the winter sets in, we are impatient to try it.

Rides the Wind stepped outside, and she heard him say, "You saw when Walks the Fire came to the village.I brought her on my pony as a warrior brings what he takes from his enemy. I brought her to care for the son of Dancing Waters.I brought her to teach me about the God who created all things.She has done this. She has saved Hears Not.She has earned a place among the people.Today I tell you she is no longer only the woman who tends the fire in the tepee. Mitawicu. I take this woman for wife." There were murmurs of approval. Rides the Wind continued, "I will hunt for many days.There will be a feast.

As Prairie Flower faced the rising sun and braided her hair,White Eagle strolled by. He had glanced her way many times. Today he stopped. "Howling Wolf did not come to check on his ponies this morning." "He sleeps." White Eagle smirked. He reached up to touch one of her braids. "If I had such a beautiful woman in my tepee, I would not sleep while she braids her own hair." He walked on without a backward glance. But Prairie Flower thought of him often that day.Each time his face appeared in her mind, she tried to force it away,but Howling Wolf's insolent smile was often replaced by the handsome face of White Eagle.

When Cherokee and Raphael got back to the canyon house, they set up the tepee on the grass and crept inside it. They lay on their backs, not touching, looking at the leaf shadows flickering on their canvas, and trying to identify the flowers they smelled in the warm air. "Honeysuckle." "Orange blossom." "Rose." "The Sea." "The Sea! That doesn't count!" "I smell it like it's growing in the yard." They giggled the way they used to when they were very young. Then they were quiet. Raphael sat up and took Cherokee's feet in her hands. "Do they still hurt?" he asked, stroking them tenderly. He moved his hands up over her whole body, as if he were painting her, bringing color into her white skin. As if he were playing her-his guitar. And all the hurt seemed to float out of her like music. They woke in the morning curled together. "Remember how when we were really little we used to have the same dreams?" Cherokee whispered. "It was like going on trips together." "It stopped when we started making love." "I know." "But last night..." "Orchards of hawks and apricots," Raphael said, remembering. "Sheer pink-and-gold cliffs." "The sky's wings." "The night beasts run beside us, not afraid. Dream horses carry us..." "To the sea," they said together...

Britain. Yet as they studied Göbekli Tepe, they discovered an amazing fact. Stonehenge dates to 2500 BC, and was built by a developed agricultural society. The structures at Göbekli Tepe are dated to about 9500 BC, and all available evidence indicates that they were built by hunter-gatherers. The archaeological community initially found it difficult to credit these findings, but one test after another confirmed both the early date of the structures and the pre-agricultural society of their builders. The capabilities of ancient foragers, and the complexity of their cultures, seem to be far more impressive than was previously suspected.

too is the pyramid-look, because you don’t have to think about a ceiling. You want to have a roof over your head, so why not let your walls also be your ceiling, so you have one less thing to think about—one less surface to look at, one less surface to clean, one less surface to paint. The tepee-dwelling Indians had the right idea. A cone might be nice if circles didn’t exclude the edges and if you could find the right round sink, but I prefer an equilateral-triangular pyramidal-shaped enclosure even more than a square-based pyramid shape, because with a triangular base you have one less wall to think about, and one less corner to dust.

Privindu-l pe cronicar, mila îmi creştea în suflet din nou, rămuroasă, deasă şi înfiorată ca un tufiş fabulos, înfigându-şi rădăcinile prin străfundurile întunecate ale amintirilor mele, prin acele straturi uitate, de omeneşti datorii, până în mâlurile lunecoase ale neputinţei şi resemnării, vârstate cu fluturii şi şerpii de lumină ai îndurării şi ruşinii.

to be clear that in signalling the decades around 2012 as the end of a great cycle, the Maya were not speaking of the end of the world, as such, but rather of the end of an age – ‘a time of great transformation and world rebirth’16 – that would be followed by the beginning of a new great cycle or world age. This, in the Mayan scheme of things, is the turbulent and dangerous time of transition we live in today. It is therefore strange, and indeed somewhat eerie, to find the solar and astronomical coordinates of the exact same 80-year window between 1960 and 2040 prophesied by the Maya to mark a turning point in human history, carved in high relief on a 12,000-year-old pillar in Göbekli Tepe in far-off Turkey.

Non c’è bisogno di parlare, lui mi ha detto ciò che volevo sapere, ha aperto il suo cuore, si è fidato di me. Adesso è Elijah, il mio primo e unico amore. Lo amo, il mio cuore è troppo piccolo per contenere questo sentimento che scalpita dentro di me. Mi sembra di rivivere ogni brevissimo istante di quell’estate, però ora è amplificato di dieci volte. Ci amiamo, sembra così facile, in realtà è piuttosto difficile. Ma cosa importa? Se con lui mi sento così bene da star male, se mi scoppia il cuore quando mi guarda e nel mio futuro riesco a vedere solo lui, significa che ogni cosa viene dopo. Il buon senso, la razionalità, le opinioni degli altri, Aaron. Tutto passa in secondo piano al cospetto di questo folle e deleterio sentimento. Esistiamo semplicemente noi.

Archaeologists are familiar with such monumental structures from sites around the world – the best-known example is Stonehenge in Britain. Yet as they studied Göbekli Tepe, they discovered an amazing fact. Stonehenge dates to 2500 BC, and was built by a developed agricultural society. The structures at Göbekli Tepe are dated to about 9500 BC, and all available evidence indicates that they were built by hunter-gatherers. The archaeological community initially found it difficult to credit these findings, but one test after another confirmed both the early date of the structures and the pre-agricultural society of their builders. The capabilities of ancient foragers, and the complexity of their cultures, seem to be far more impressive than was previously suspected.

What would have made [seeing Göbekli Tepe from Harran] easier, in antiquity, would have been a tall tower annexed to the temple that once stood here--a temple dedicated to Su-En (usually contracted to Sin), the Moon God of the Sabians. After telling us that there were "powerful images in this temple," the Greek Philosopher Libanius (AD 314-394), describes the tower, noting that "from its top one could overlook the entire plain of Harran." [...] A team from the Chicago Oriental Institute was about to start a major dig around the ruins of the Grand Mosque in 1986, but it seems that the Turkish authorities insisted on such restrictive practices that the project had to be abandoned. Current excavations by Harran University and the Sanliurfa Museum Directorate show little interest in recovery of substantive remains from the city's pre-Islamic period.

Returning from that task and a visit to a nearby tepee,his eyes twinkled with pride as he offered a tiny rawhide pouch full of elk's teeth to Jesse. She caught her breath.Only two teeth were saved from each elk,and to be able to decorate an entire dress with teeth would put her in a position of envy in the tribe. "How long have you been saving these?" she asked. "I am a skillful hunter...it is nothing," came the proud reply. "I only had to get them back from Running Bear. He has been keeping them for me." Jesse worked all afternoon to add the elks' teeth to her new dress.She scolded herself for her pridefulness, but when she and Rides the Wind attended the celebration,she could not contain her happiness at the admiring glances that came her way.Rides the Wind could not have said what made him prouder-the wife he believed to be beautiful or the brave son who had earned the name Soaring Eagle.

Fara indoiala, Vlad Dracul va fi purtat mereu in jurul gatului colanul de aur al ordinului cruciat de care facea parte. Dragonul de pe pieptul lui a impresionat negresit imaginatia contemporanilor, care i-au faurit supranumele ,,Draculea", intalnit intaia oara in corespondenta dusmanului sau, marele boier Albul. In orice caz, la origine, dragonului voievodului Vlad, tatal lui Tepes, nu a fost <>, cum s-a afirmat recent. Cuvantul slav ,,draku" se traduce de fapt prin : sarpe, balaur, zmeu, iar cel latin ,,draco" tot prin balaur. Era tocmai intruchiparea plastica de pe blazonul Ordinului Dragonului, asa cum o vedeau romanii. Forma romaneasca ,,Draculea" este echivalenta numai si numai in acest sens. [...] Numele ,,Dracula'' constituie aproape SINGURUL ELEMENT COMUN legendei din a doua jumatate a secolului XV si celei nascute la sfarsitul secolulu XIX, de sub pana scriitorului irlandez Bram Stoker. Acesta insa, cum se va vedea, a preferat sa-i accentueze valentele simbolice ale raului.

Az sonra bir de baktık, Oakland yakınlarındaki bayırlardayız. Ardından, bir noktada, o doyumsuz güzellikteki beyaz şehir San Francisco gözlerimizin önüne serildi: masmavi Pasifik'in kenarında onbir gizemli tepe, etrafında yama yama patates tarlalarından bir sis duvarı, akşamüstü saatlerinin dumanı ve altın rengi. "Nefes alışını duyuyorum!" diye bağırdı Dean. "Vay be! Başardık! Hem de tam benzin biterken! Su verin bana! Buradan sonra kara yok! Daha ileri gidemeyiz çünkü kara buraya kadar! Marylou, tatlım, hadi siz hemen bir otele kapağı atın. Sabah görüşürüz. Benim Camille'le konuşup birtakım şeyleri ayarlamam lazım biliyorsun, ayrıca demiryolundaki iş için şu Fransız'ı da arayacağım. Siz de Sal'la gazete alıp iş ilanlarına bakarsınız." Oakland Bay Köprüsüne varmıştık bile. Şehir merkezindeki işyerlerinin ışıkları yanıyordu, Sam Spade'i hatırladım. O'Farrell Caddesinde sendür sundur arabadan indik ve havayı koklayıp gerindik. Uzun bir deniz yolculuğundan sonra karaya ayak basmış gibiydik. Cadde altımızda sallanıyordu. Çin mahallesinden gelen yemek kokuları sarmıştı ortalığı. Arabada ne kadar eşyamız varsa çıkarıp kaldırıma yığdık.

But the hawk knew the landscape; there were vast areas of it he avoided due to a scarcity of prey. Land that was overhunted—that land was the Great Sioux Reservation, bordered by the rugged Black Hills on the west, the Missouri River on the east. There, even scrawny squirrels and half-dead rabbits were precious. The smudges there were tepees, made out of fading buffalo hide, clustered together in groups, the groups too close to those from other tribes, but forced, due to the government, to live together. Misery hung over this landscape like a cloud, even on the sunniest day. So he kept to the south, swooping closer to the ground, and finally the peaceful-seeming landscape gave up some secrets. A fence post here, a clump of bushes there, an upturned wagon, haystacks. As his eyes adjusted, however, other secrets were discovered. What seemed like a line of small haystacks were, upon closer inspection as the hawk zeroed in, cows. Unmoving cows, statues; some on their sides, others standing, all frozen where they were. The hawk turned, uninterested, to investigate more dark shapes emerging from the blinding white; horses, their legs collapsed under them, eyes closed forever.

... sis daha da bastırdığı ve onun çevresini sardığı halde Fergudon o bulanıklık içinden yanıp sönen ve dur işareti anlamına gelen kırmızı trafik ışığını seçebildi, durdu ve bir arabanın geçmesini bekledi ve herkes ile hiç kimse hakkındaki düşüncelerine daldığı ve de Londra’da olduğunu, İngiliz şehirleriyle kasabalarında sola değil sağa bakılması gerektiğini unuttuğu içim ömrü boyunca karşıdan karşıya geçerken araba geliyor mu diye otomatik refleks haline gelmiş bir hareketle hep yaptığı gibi sola baktı, o yüzden de Blandford Caddesi’nin köşesini dönen kahverengi İngiliz Ford’unu göremedi, kaldırımdan indi, göremediği arabanın yolun sağından geldiğini anlayamadığı için karşıya geçmek üzere yürüdü, araba Ferguson’ın bedenine çarptığında öylesine şiddetle vurdu ki Ferguson uzaya gönderilmiş insan biçiminde bir füze gibi, aya ve ötesindeki yıldızlara yol alan genç bir adam gibi havaya fırladı, sonra yörüngesinin tepe noktasına ulaştı ve aşağı inmeye başladı, yere indiğinde başı kaldırımın kenarına çarptı, kafatası kırıldı ve o andna itibaren o kafatasının içinde doğmuş olan gelecekle ilgili her düşünce, her sözcük, her duygu silinip gitti. Tanrılar dağlarından aşağı bakıp omuz silktiler.

Yaşamayı eskitmekten Eskitmek için kullanmak gerektir bir şeyi, herhangi bir şeyi Yaşamayı tüketmekten Bu da öyle, tüketmek için başlamak gerekir Yaşama sanki hiç gelmeyecek, erişmeyecek bir bayram gibi, bir Belki, belki bu yoldan giderek Bir bayram nasıl beklenirse Belki bu yoldan giderek bir şeye varacak Bir bayrama nasıl hazırlık yapılırsa, nasıl, yaşamanın bütün kaygıları, işleri, oruçları bayrama yönelirse, o kaygılar, o işler, o oruçlar nasıl o bayramda gerekliklerinin doğrulanışını bulursa Ama bayram gelirse Burada duruyor. Bayram, gelirse... Ama bütün bir ömür bayram hazırlığıyla geçer de o bayram gelmezse...

He does not care for me. He brought me to the village to feed his child." "He gave you Red Star." Jesse denied its significance. "That was only so that I would not shame him." "He brought many skins for a new tepee. He brought you elk skins for a new dress." Jesse explained. "We needed those things because of the fire.All of the people needed new tepees, new clothing." "He sits with you every evening outside the tepee." "That is so I can read from the Book." Prairie Flower grew impatient. "Walks the Fire! I tell you truth.Rides the Wind wishes you to be his wife.You know nothing of Lakota ways.I will tell you!" Jesse started to protest, but Prairie Flower interrupted. "No! You listen! When a man wishes to show he wants a woman, he dresses in his finest clothing and comes to her outside her tepee.They sit and talk.He gives gifts to her parents. Not every custom is followed, because you are not a young Lakota woman. But I tell you, Rides the Wind cares for you. After the fire, when Medicine Hawk came-when you were as one dying-you did not see him. I saw him. Rides the Wind did not eat. He did not sleep.He thought only of Walks the Fire.He hunted healing herbs.He hunted the elk for your dress.He took Two Mothers to Yellow Bird's tepee so that his cries would not disturb your rest.He trusted no one but Old One, and himself, and me to care for you.

For many years,Rides the Wind cared only for Walks the Fire. Together they read this Book she speaks of.My daughter has told me of this.Walks the Fire would tel the words in the Book. Rides the Wind repeated them,then he would tell how the words would help him in the hunt or in the council.Walks the Fire listened as he spoke. She respected him.She did as he said." As Talks a Lot spoke,the people remembered the years since Walks the Fire had come to them.Many among them recalled kindness beyond the saving of Hears Not.Many regretted the early days, when they had laughed at the white woman.They remembered Prairie Flower and Old One teaching her,and many could recall times when some new stew was shared with their family or a deerskin brought in by Rides the Wind found its way to their tepee. Prairie Flower's voice was added to the men's. "Even when no more sons or daughters came to his tepee-even then, Rides the Wind wanted only Walks the Fire." She turned to look at Running Bear, another elder, "Even when you offered your own beautiful daugher, Rides the Wind wanted only Walks the Fire.This is true. My father told me. When he walked the earth,Rides the Wind wanted only Walks the Fire.Now that he lies upon the earth,you must know that he would say, 'Do this for her.'" Jesse had continued to dig into the earth as she listened. When Prairie Flower told of the chief's having offered his daughter,she stopped for a moment.Her hand reached out to lovingly caress the dark head that lay so still under the clear sky.Rides the Wind had never told her of this.She had been afraid that he might take another wife when it became evident they would have no children.Now she knew that he had chosen her alone-even in the face of temptation. From the women's group there was movement. Prairie Flower stepped forward, her digging tool in her hand. Defiantly she sputtered, "She is my friend..." and stalked across the short distance to the shallow grave. Dropping to her knees beside Jesse, she began attacking the earth.Ferociously she dug.Jesse followed her lead, as did Old One.They began again,three women working side by side.And then there were four women,and then five, and six, until a ring of many women dug together. The men did nothing to stop them, and Running Bear decided what was to be done. "We will camp here and wait for Walks the Fire to do what she must. Tonight we will tell the life of Rides the Wind around the fire.Tomorrow, when this is done, we will move on." And so it was.Hours later Rides the Wind, Lakota hunter, became the first of his village to be laid in a grave and mourned by a white woman. Before his body was lowered into the earth, Jesse impulsively took his hunting knife, intending to cut off the two thick, red braids that hung down her back. It seemed so long ago that Rides the Wind had braided the feathers and beads in, dusting the part.Had it really been only this morning? He had kissed her,too, grumbling about the white man's crazy ways.Jesse had laughed and returned his kiss.

Every July, when Eli was growing up, his mother would close the cabin and move the family to the Sun Dance. Eli would help the other men set up the tepee, and then he and Norma and Camelot would run with the kids in the camp. They would ride horses and chase each other across the prairies, their freedom interrupted only by the ceremonies. Best of all, Eli liked the men’s dancing. The women would dance for four days, and then there would be a day of rest and the men would begin. Each afternoon, toward evening, the men would dance, and just before the sun set, one of the dancers would pick up a rifle and lead the other men to the edge of the camp, where the children waited. Eli and the rest of the children would stand in a pack and wave pieces of scrap paper at the dancers as the men attacked and fell back, surged forward and retreated, until finally, after several of these mock forays, the lead dancer would breach the fortress of children and fire the rifle, and all the children would fall down in a heap, laughing, full of fear and pleasure, the pieces of paper scattering across the land. Then the dancers would gather up the food that was piled around the flagpole—bread, macaroni, canned soup, sardines, coffee—and pass it out to the people. Later, after the camp settled in, Eli and Norma and Camelot would lie on their backs and watch the stars as they appeared among the tepee poles through the opening in the top of the tent. And each morning, because the sun returned and the people remembered, it would begin again.

Berossos compiled his History from the temple archives of Babylon (reputed to have contained "public records" that had been preserved for "over 150,000 years"). He has passed on to us a description of Oannes as a "monster," or a "creature." However, what Berossos has to say is surely more suggestive of a man wearing some sort of fish-costume--in short, some sort of disguise. The monster, Berossos tells us: "had the whole body of a fish, but underneath and attached to the head of the fish there was another head, human, and joined to the tail of the fish, feet like those of a man, and it had a human voice ... At the end of the day, this monster, Oannes, went back to the sea and spent the night. It was amphibious, able to live both on land and in the sea ... Later, other monsters similar to Oannes appeared." Bearing in mind that the curious containers carried by Oannes and the Apkallu sages are also depicted on one of the megalithic pillars at Göbekli Tepe (and [...] as far afield as ancient Mexico as well), what are we to make of all this? The mystery deepends when we follow the Mesopotamian traditions further. In summary, Oannes and the brotherhood of Apkallu sages are depicted as tutoring mankind for many thousands of years. It is during this long passage of time that the five antediluvian cities arise, the centers of a great civilization, and that kingship is "lowered from heaven." Prior to the first appearance of Oannes, Berossos says, the people of Mesopotamia 'lived in a lawless manner, like the beasts of a field.

She looked at him defiantly, "I know I am not beautiful.I laughed at myself for thinking such impossible things." Rides the Wind was quiet for so long that she wondered if her rush of words had overreached his abilities in English. But just when she started to question him,he turned his own face to the horizon so that she could view only his profile. "When Rides the Wind was young, he danced about the fire like no other brave.It was then that Dancing Waters came to be his woman.She would watch, and her eyes danced with the flames. But one day Rides the Wind went to hunt.His pony fell and crushed his leg. Marcus Whitman fixed the leg, but it would not grow straight.Rides the Wind could dance no more. The fire died in the eyes of Dancing Waters." He encircled her with his arms before continuing. "Walks the Fire sees Rides the Wind when he walks like the wounded buffalo.She sees, but the fire does not die in her eyes.Beautiful is in here," he placed his hand over her heart. "So do not laugh when you think you are beautiful.Rides the Wind sees the fire in your eyes.And to him,you are beautiful." Jesse reached for his hand,and, holding it palm up,she kissed it. He growled, "...and so you give me more of the white man's ways." In a moment of uncharacteristic abandon, Jesse stood on tip-toe and placed a less-than-chaste kiss upon the mouth of her husband.She smiled in spite of the resulting blush on her cheek, reaching up to tug childishly on his flowing hair. Then,to his delight and amazement she spoke the Lakota words: "Mihigna-my husband-Walks the Fire is an obedient wife.If he wishes her to stop this strange touch,he must tell her.Walks the Fire will obey." Rides the Wind took her hand, and they started back to the tepee.As they climbed the hill together he replied, "Many of the white man's ways must be forgotten to live among my people...but not all.

So what did you and Landon do this afternoon?” Minka asked, her soft voice dragging him back to the present. Angelo looked up to see that Minka had already polished off two fajitas. Damn, the girl could eat. “Landon gave me a tour of the DCO complex. I did some target shooting and blew up a few things. He even let me play with the expensive surveillance toys. I swear, it felt more like a recruiting pitch to get me to work there than anything.” Minka’s eyes flashed green, her full lips curving slightly. Damn, why the hell had he said it like that? Now she probably thought he was going to come work for the DCO. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t, not after just reenlisting for another five years. The army wasn’t the kind of job where you could walk into the boss’s office and say, “I quit.” Thinking it would be a good idea to steer the conversation back to safer ground, he reached for another fajita and asked Minka a question instead. “What do you think you’ll work on next with Ivy and Tanner? You going to practice with the claws for a while or move on to something else?” Angelo felt a little crappy about changing the subject, but if Minka noticed, she didn’t seem to mind. And it wasn’t like he had to fake interest in what she was saying. Anything that involved Minka was important to him. Besides, he didn’t know much about shifters or hybrids, so the whole thing was pretty damn fascinating. “What do you visualize when you see the beast in your mind?” he asked. “Before today, I thought of it as a giant, blurry monster. But after learning that the beast is a cat, that’s how I picture it now.” She smiled. “Not a little house cat, of course. They aren’t scary enough. More like a big cat that roams the mountains.” “Makes sense,” he said. Minka set the other half of her fourth fajita on her plate and gave him a curious look. “Would you mind if I ask you a personal question?” His mouth twitched as he prepared another fajita. He wasn’t used to Minka being so reserved. She usually said whatever was on her mind, regardless of whether it was personal or not. “Go ahead,” he said. “The first time we met, I had claws, fangs, glowing red eyes, and I tried to kill you. Since then, I’ve spent most of the time telling you about an imaginary creature that lives inside my head and makes me act like a monster. How are you so calm about that? Most people would have run away already.” Angelo chuckled. Not exactly the personal question he’d expected, but then again Minka rarely did the expected. “Well, my mom was full-blooded Cherokee, and I grew up around all kinds of Indian folktales and legends. My dad was in the army, and whenever he was deployed, Mom would take my sisters and me back to the reservation where she grew up in Oklahoma. I’d stay up half the night listening to the old men tell stories about shape-shifters, animal spirits, skin-walkers, and trickster spirits.” He grinned. “I’m not saying I necessarily believed in all that stuff back then, but after meeting Ivy, Tanner, and the other shifters at the DCO, it just didn’t faze me that much.” Minka looked at him with wide eyes. “You’re a real American Indian? Like in the movies? With horses and everything?” He laughed again. The expression of wonder on her face was adorable. “First, I’m only half-Indian. My dad is Mexican, so there’s that. And second, Native Americans are almost nothing like you see in the movies. We don’t all live in tepees and ride horses. In fact, I don’t even own a horse.” Minka was a little disappointed about the no-horse thing, but she was fascinated with what it was like growing up on an Indian reservation and being surrounded by all those legends. She immediately asked him to tell her some Indian stories. It had been a long time since he’d thought about them, but to make her happy, he dug through his head and tried to remember every tale he’d heard as a kid.

Hz. Yuşâ (A.S.) öğrenmek istedi: "Seninle ilk tanıştığımız zaman, burasına bir yerden bahsetmiştin. Orası neresidir?" Adam düşündü. Hz. Yuşâ (A.S.) sorduğuna pişman oldu. Teklif etti: "Eğer yaranı, sıla hasretini deşeceksem, sus." "Hayır. O yara kabuk bağladı artık. Sana nasıl anlatacağımı düşünüyordum." "İyi öyleyse." Adam şöyle başladı: "Önümüzdeki vadi içinde akan Erden Nehridir değil mi?" "Evet." "Güneydeki Lût Denizine dökülür." "Öyle." "Nehir kuzeyde Taberiye gölünden su alır." "Doğru." "O halde Erden nehri, bu iki deniz arasında akan bir boğazdır." "Belki." "Ey Yuşâ! Yurdunun sınırı Toroslara dayanıyor. Diyelim ki onu aştın. Hep kuzeybatıya doğru git. Birçok dağlar ve ovalar, dereler, nehirler geç. Nihayet bir gün şu vadinin daha derin ve genişine ulaşacaksın. Kuzey ile güneyinde de Taberiye gölü ile Lût denizinden büyüğü var. Bunun doğusunda, kuzey denizine yakın tepe benim bir zaman yurdumdu. Orasına Dev Dağı derdim. Şurada oturduğumuz gibi oturur, engin güzellikleri seyrederdim. Hile, fesat, kötülük yoktu. İnsanlardan uzaktım. Mavi ile yeşil dostlarımdı sadece. Huzurumu bulmuştum. Ama olan oldu nihayet. İçimdeki sese uydum. Kaya gibi koptum dağımdan. Şükür ki küçük bir örneğiyle avunuyorum." Adamın anlatttığı yer İstanbul Boğazı'ydı. Kuzeyde Karadeniz, güneyde Marmara vardı. Boğaz, Erden vadisi gibiydi. Karadeniz Lût denizi yerine geçerdi. Marmara da Taberiye gölü yerine. Adamın Dev Dağı dediği tepe, Boğazın Anadolu kıyısında Karadeniz yakınındaydı. . . . Hz. Yuşâ (A.S.) tekrar tenhaya çekildi. İlhamları gibi oldu. O yıl vefat etti. İsrailoğullarını onu nereye gömeceklerini pek düşündürmedi. Mademki Efrayim Dağlığı'nda Gaaş Dağı'nın Timatsarah Tepesi'ni pek seviyordu, oraya defnettiler. Bu olay üzerinden üç bin seneye yakın zaman geçti. İstanbul Boğazı'nın doğu kıyısında Karadeniz'e yakın bir tepe var. Adı Yuşâ Tepesi'dir. Karşısında da Telli Baba var. Nasıl ki bir zamanlar Anadolu Hisarı ile Rumeli Hisarı Boğaz'ın emniyetini madde bakımından sağlamış ve sağlıyorlarsa, bu iki tepede yatanların da Boğaz'ın emniyetini mânen sağladıkları, ebediyen Müslümanlara kalacağı anlatılır. Telli baba kimdir. Onun Fatih Sultan Mehmet ordusunda bir asker olduğu, erdiği ve tel çekerken şehit düştüğü rivayeti yaygındır. Ya Yuşâ Tepesi'ndeki, acaba Hz. Yuşâ (A.S.) mıdır? Yoksa başka bu adda bir veli midir? Çeşitli söylentiler anlatılır. Umumi fikir onun Hz. Yuşâ (A.S.) olduğu merkezindedir. Eskiden adı Dev Dağı olan o yerde savaşırken, gövdesi ikiye ayrıldığı halde, tepenin en üstüne çıkmış ve ruhunu teslim etmiştir. Ona onyedi metre boyunda, dört metre eninde bir mezar yapılmıştır. Baş ve ucunda iki küçük taş vardır. Elbet Hz. Yuşâ (A.S.) bu kadar büyük değildi. Mezarının geniş ve uzun tutulması, rütbesinin enginliğindendir. Yuşâ Tepesi'ni asırlık kavaklar süsler. Doğrusunu şüphesiz ancak Hazreti Allah (C.C.) bilir.

You are my friend, Prairie Flower. If I tell you what is in my heart, will you promise never to tell?" Prairie Flower laid a hand on Jesse's shoulder, pulling it away quickly when her friend flinched in pain. "I will not betray my friend." Taking a deep breath, Jesse lifted her head. "When Rides the Wing comes near to me, my heart sings.But I do not believe that he cares for me.I am clumsy in all of the things a Lakota woman must know.I cannot speak his language without many childish mistakes. And..." Jesse reached up to lay her hand on her short hair, "I am nothing to look at.I am not..." Prairie Flower grew angry. "I have told you he cares for you.Can you not see it?" Jesse shook her head. Prairie Flower spoke the unspeakable. "Then,if you cannot see that he cares for you in what he does,you must see it in what he has not done. You have been in his tepee. Dancing Waters has been gone many moons." "Stop!" Jesse demanded. "Stop it! I..just don't say any more!" She leaped up and ran out of the tepee-and into Rides the Wind, who was returning from the river where he had gone to draw water. Jesse knocked the water skins from both of his hands. Water spilled out and she fumbled an apology then bent stiffly to pick up the skins, wincing with the effort. "I will do it, Walks the Fire." His voice was tender as he bent and took the skins from her. Jesse protested, "It is the wife's job." She blushed, realizing that she had used a wrong word-the word for wife, instead of the word for woman. Rides the Wind interrupted before she could correct herself. "Walks the Fire is not the wife of Rides the Wind." Jesse blushed and remained quiet. A hand reached for hers and Rides the Wind said, "Come, sit." He helped her sit down just outside the door of the tepee. The village women took note as he went inside and brought out a buffalo robe. Sitting by Jesse,he placed the robe on the ground and began to talk. "I will tell you how it is with the Lakota. When a man wishes to take a wife..." he described Lakota courtship. As he talked, Jesse realiced that all that Prairie Flower had said seemed to be true.He had,indeed, done nearly everything involved in the courtship ritual. Still, she told herself, there is a perfectly good explanation for everything he has done. Rides the Wind continued describing the wedding feast. Jesse continued to reason with herself as he spoke. Then she realized the voice had stopped and he had repeated a question. "How is it among the whites?How does a man gain a wife?" Embarrassed,Jesse described the sparsest of courtships, the simplest wedding.Rides the Wind listened attentively. When she had finished, he said, "There is one thing the Lakota brave who wishes a wife does that I have not described." Pulling Jesse to her feet, he continued, "One evening, as he walks with his woman..." He reached out to pick up the buffalo robe.He was aware that the village women were watching carefully. "He spreads out his arms..." Rides the Wind spread his arms,opening the buffalo robe to its full length, "and wraps it about his woman," Rides the Wind turned toward Jesse and reached around her, "so that they are both inside the buffalo robe." He looked down at Jesse, trying to read her expression.When he saw nothing in the gray eyes, he abruptly dropped his arms. "But it is hot today and your wounds have not healed.I have said enough.You see how it is with the Lakota." When Jesse still said nothing, he continued, "You spoke of a celebration with a min-is-ter.It is a word I do not know.What is this min-is-ter?" "A man who belives in the Bible and teaches his people about God from the Bible." "What if there is no minister and a man and a woman wish to be married?" Jesse grew more uncomfortable. "I suppose they would wait until a minister came.

As to a night visit, and my plan to see the stars with the megaliths around me … What a joke! The roof has cut Göbekli Tepe off entirely from the cosmos. It feels almost like a deliberate, calculated act of disempowerment – as though someone amongst the powers that be suddenly woke up and realised how dangerous this ancient place has become to the established order of things and how subversive it potentially is to the system of mind control, very much including control of the past, that keeps modern society in order.

When the buffalo are gone, then the Indian will have nothing, no food, no clothing, no tepee. Nada. Those rich folks don’t realize that they’re paying to play their part in the big plan.

We see the Tsaatan encampment of tepees in the far distance, sitting in a vast treeless plain surrounded by rolling hills and backdropped by high snow-capped mountains. We pause for a while to take in this spectacle. It took my breath away, and for a moment, everything was gone except the here and now.

Yet even before agriculture was fully organized, people across the world – from Japan to Finland and the Americas – were raising monumental structures that were both sacred and social. The temples acted as calendars linked to celestial bodies, and people possibly just gathered there to celebrate successful harvests, then returned to their hunting-foraging life. In south-east Türkiye, at Göbekli Tepe, structures that looked like temples, pillars topped with sculpted foxes, snakes and scorpions, were built by hunter-gatherers who did not yet farm yet already shared religious rites.

Even the most accurate information in the world changes with time, just as the recipes of the food we eat over the centuries have been revised, the cheesecake we ate in this century was not the same as the certainty it was 2000 years ago. While the oldest place in the world was Stonehange, today Göbekli Tepe took the throne. '' it's hard to say. If nothing is true, then why would you believe something? And if everything is permissible, why not pursue every desire'' life is short eat something, love someone, travel the world

There is nothing more to tell of my tricks, of my danger deeds. All these are now behind me. It is not as a warrior that I now talk. I was riding alone, knowing what was ahead of me. Then the places through which I was riding came to my heart. It drew memories of old times, of my friends, when they were living on this river. My friends, my brothers, my sisters! All were gone! No tepees anywhere along the river. I was alone. No difference if I was hanged. I did not think I would die by the gun. The only way I could be killed was by hanging. That church Agent! That brave General Howard! They would see how I could die! I, a warrior, who knew the fighting! Keeping the religion of my ancestors, I knew not to fear.

One Saturday six weeks later we spent the afternoon in my bedroom, naked in the bright sunlight, inspecting each other curiously, without desire, as though we were museum curators cataloging idiosyncrasies: the raised mole here, a pale depression of stretch marks there.

Al igual que las cervezas de belladona en España, y quizás incluso las cervezas de cementerio prehistóricas de la cueva Raqefet y de Göbekli Tepe, el vino del ayer ha resultado ser una bebida mucho más compleja y misteriosa de lo que se pensaba. Una vez más, la estrella del show

Todo esto plantea la fascinante posibilidad de que la cerveza de cementerio de la cueva Raqefet y Göbekli Tepe fuera una especie de precursora de la Edad de Piedra del ciceón a base de cebada.

Today, Poverty Point is a National Park and Monument and UNESCO World Heritage Site. Despite these designations of international importance, its implications for world history have hardly begun to be explored. A hunter-gatherer metropolis the size of a Mesopotamian city-state, Poverty Point makes the Anatolian complex of Göbekli Tepe look like little more than a ‘potbelly hill’ (which is, in fact, what ‘Göbekli Tepe’ means in Turkish). Yet outside a small community of academic specialists, and of course local residents and visitors, very few people have heard of it.

Alfonzo paused before he finally said the words she knew he dreaded to utter. “The King of Vampires. Vlad Tepes Dracula.

Bir gün Başvekil İsmet Paşa Çankaya’dan dairesine gelirken, yanında bulunan valiye Hacettepe’yi gösterir: - Neden burasını ağaçlamıyorsunuz? diye sorar. Biraz sinirlice sorduğu için tepe hemen o mevsim park olmuştur. Akköprü’den gelen yol ile Meclis önünden istasyona inen yolun kesiştiği yerde: - Yeni şeyler yapmak için paraya ihtiyacınız var, bu iki yolu birbirinin altından üstünden geçirmek için şimdilik masraf etmeyiniz, diyerek, şehir mütehassısı tarafından bugünkü yuvarlak projesi yapılmıştı. Belediye Reisi bunu tatbik ettirmeyi âdeta bir şeref meselesi hâline soktu. Otomobiller yavaşlıyarak geçmek zorunda oldukları için Atatürk’e burada suikast yapmak kolay olacağı ve mesuliyeti üstüne almıyacağı iddiasına kadar gitti. Atatürk bizzat geldi, meseleyi tetkik etti: - Yuvarlağı belki biraz daha daraltmak lâzım, ama fikir doğrudur, yaptırınız, dedi. Belediye Yansen plânının kavşak prensiplerini nerede tatbik etmemişse, orada kazalar olmuştur ve senelerden beri seyrüsefer memuru beklemektedir. Yalnız bu yuvarlağın olduğu yerde hiçbir kaza olmamıştır ve hiçbir seyrüsefer memuru beklememiştir.

The following morning there was a bugle call,” said Wasumaza, one of Big Foot’s warriors who years afterward was to change his name to Dewey Beard. “Then I saw the soldiers mounting their horses and surrounding us. It was announced that all men should come to the center for a talk and that after the talk they were to move on to Pine Ridge agency. Big Foot was brought out of his tepee and sat in front of his tent and the older men were gathered around him and sitting right near him in the center.

Göbekli Tepe is one such place where we can see the ancient influence of animism. Located in present day eastern Turkey, Göbekli Tepe was, as best as we can discern, an ancient ceremonial site, indeed one of the oldest ever discovered.2 It’s filled with towering statues of animals and is constructed in alignment with certain stellar markers indicating a culture that in all likelihood was transitioning from hunter/gatherer toward urbanization, bringing the spirits of animals, the land, and the sky with them.

And this friend and I talked and talked, in the tepee in the backyard and on the porch in the front yard, and with every time I told the story about how I’d grown up and how it had sometimes hurt, with every time we went for just one more smoke and one more conversation, I felt myself coming back to myself, ever closer to the person I had always wanted to be.

Discoverer of Göbekli Tepe and its chief excavator, Dr Klaus Schmidt, famously warned against what he called ‘Holy Land Syndrome,’ which is the propensity for archaeologists to head out into the field with a spade in one hand and a Bible in the other. Holy Land Syndrome precludes the finding of something you didn’t already expect to find.

This Blue Coat’s woman?” he demanded, gesturing toward Lily. Caleb shook his head. “She’s her own woman. Just ask her.” Lily’s heart was jammed into her throat. She had an urge to go for the rifle again, but this time it was Caleb she wanted to shoot. “He lies,” she said quickly, trying to make sign language. “I am too his woman!” The Indian looked back at his followers, and they all laughed. Lily thought she saw a hint of a grin curve Caleb’s lips as well but decided she must have imagined it. “You trade woman for two horses?” Caleb lifted one hand to his chin, considering. “Maybe. I’ve got to be honest with you. She’s a lot of trouble, this woman.” Lily’s terror was exceeded only by her wrath. “Caleb!” The Indian squinted at Lily and then made an abrupt, peevish gesture with the fingers of one hand. “He wants you to get down from the buggy so he can have a good look at you,” Caleb said quietly. “I don’t care what he wants,” Lily replied, folding her trembling hands in her lap and squaring her shoulders. The Indian shouted something. “He’s losing his patience,” Caleb warned, quite unnecessarily. Lily scrambled down from the buggy and stood a few feet from it while the Indian rode around her several times on his pony, making thoughtful grunting noises. Annoyance was beginning to overrule Lily’s better judgment. “This is my land,” she blurted out all of a sudden, “and I’m inviting you and your friends to get off it! Right now!” The Indian reined in his pony, staring at Lily in amazement. “You heard me!” she said, advancing on him, her hands poised on her hips. At that, Caleb came up behind her, and his arms closed around her like the sides of a giant manacle. His breath rushed past her ear. “Shut up!” Lily subsided, watching rage gather in the Indians’ faces like clouds in a stormy sky. “Caleb,” she said, “you’ve got to save me.” “Save you? If they raise their offer to three horses, you’ll be braiding your hair and wearing buckskin by nightfall.” The Indians were consulting with one another, casting occasional measuring glances in Lily’s direction. She was feeling desperate again. “All right, then, but remember, if I go, your child goes with me.” “You said you were bleeding.” Lily’s face colored. “You needn’t be so explicit. And I lied.” “Two horses,” Caleb bid in a cheerful, ringing voice. The Indians looked interested. “I’ll marry you!” Lily added breathlessly. “Promise?” “I promise.” “When?” “At Christmas.” “Not good enough.” “Next month, then.” “Today.” Lily assessed the Indians again, imagined herself carrying firewood for miles, doing wash in a stream, battling fleas in a tepee, being dragged to a pallet by a brave. “Today,” Lily conceded. The man in the best calico shirt rode forward again. “No trade,” he said angrily. “Blue Coat right—woman much trouble!” Caleb laughed. “Much, much trouble,” he agreed. “This Indian land,” the savage further insisted. With that, he gave a blood-curdling shriek, and he and his friends bolted off toward the hillside again. Lily turned to face Caleb. “I lied,” she said bluntly. “I have no intention of marrying you.” He brought his nose within an inch of hers. “You’re going back on your word?” “Yes,” Lily answered, turning away to climb back into the buggy. “I was trying to save myself. I would have said anything.” Caleb caught her by the arm and wrenched her around to face him. “And there’s no baby?” Lily lowered her eyes. “There’s no baby.” “I should have taken the two horses when they were offered to me,” Caleb grumbled, practically hurling her into the buggy. Lily

The ancient einkorn wheat, found in the hills surrounding Göbekli Tepe, just happens to be the single genetic ancestor of every strain of wheat grown and eaten across the earth. People gathering at a temple on a hill to worship ‘heavenly beings’ were like passengers in an airport during a pandemic. Wheat, and what to do with it, spread to every corner of the land. Mankind

If I’d knowed we’d be a-finding gold, I’d a stayed down in the tepee, because there ain’t much worse can happen to a body

call this the “bottom-up” theory of the evolution of social complexity, because it treats social complexity as a sort of “superstructure” on the material resource base. In other words, if you stir enough resources into your evolutionary pot, social complexity will inevitably bubble up. The problem with the bottom-up theory is that in several places where we can date the key stages in this process, we see a different sequence of events. The two sites with early monumental architecture that we discussed in Chapter 1, Göbekli Tepe and Poverty Point, arose before agriculture. So here we have an inverted sequence of events. First, a fairly large-scale society arises, with quite sophisticated ritual activities and buildings requiring the mobilization of large numbers of workers. Only later comes agriculture. Has the standard theory reversed cause and effect? Second, hunter-gatherer societies share food.

Merdivensiz, tepesiz ve dağsız bir yaşam dilemek, kendi çabalarımızla yükselme keyfinin olmadığı sönük bir yaşam dilemektir!

İnce bir vızıltı var havada, çok uzakta. Ölen çocuğunun başında ağıtları art arda dizen, uzun bir ağıt zincirinin boğumlarını halkalayan, halkalarını boğumlayan bir kadının sesi gibi. Yel estikçe yükselen, sonra belirsizleşen bir ince vızıltı. Sazlardan, sazlığın dibindeki sivrisineklerden geliyor olsa gerek. Bu geniş bataklığın, bu at adımına göre tutulmuş ölçülerin doğurduğu, iki tepe arasında kalmaklığın emzirdiği bataklığın karşı kıyısında, örenin dibindeki kulübelerde yaşayanların sarı benizli, şiş karınlı çocuklarını düşünüyor. Ama bu ağıt, çocukların analarından değil, sivrisineklerden geliyor.

There were several methods by which the Indians obtained eagle feathers. Some tribes dug a pit in the ground in the areas known to have eagles. These pits were large enough to conceal a brave. The trap was baited with a live rabbit or pieces of buffalo meat, and the opening was covered with a buffalo hide or brush. A large enough opening was left so that the Indian crouching in the pit could grab the tail feathers of the bird alighting to take the bait. The bird would lose its feathers, but could escape unharmed to grow new tail feathers by its next moulting period. This method was very dangerous. Often bears, attracted by the bait, would discover and kill the Indian. Sometimes eagles were caught and killed for their feathers. There also were tribes who captured young eagles while they were still in the nest. These birds were tethered by a leather thong around their leg and were kept solely for their feathers; they were plucked regularly. These birds seldom became tame and never lost their desire for freedom. They continually would fly into the air as far as the leather thong would allow, screaming their defiance at their captor. Regardless of where or how an Indian brave accumulated feathers, he was not allowed, according to tribal law, to wear them until he won them by a brave deed. He had to appear before the council and tell or re-enact his exploit. Witnesses were examined and if in the eyes of the council the deed was thought to be worthy, the brave was authorized to wear the feather or feathers in his hair or war bonnet. These honors were called “counting coup” (pronounced “coo”). Deeds of exceptional valor (such as to touch the enemy without killing him and escape) were called “grand coup” and were rated more than one feather. Sometimes a tuft of horsehair or down was added to the tip of a feather to designate additional honor. Some tribes designated special deeds by special marking on “coup” feathers, such as cutting notches or adding paint spots. The coup feathers of the American Indian can be compared to the campaign ribbons and medals awarded to our modern soldier. An Indian would rather part with his horse, his tepee, or even his wife, than to lose his eagle feathers. To do so would be to be dishonored in the eyes of the tribe. Many old Indian chiefs, such as Many Coup of the Crow tribe, had won enough honors to wear a double-tailed bonnet that dragged on the ground and to carry a feathered lance to display the additional feathers.

When a warrior had enough feathers to make a war bonnet, he invited a few of his friends to his tepee. After enjoying a meal and smoking the pipe, they ceremoniously laid out the feathers and sorted them according to size. As each feather was being prepared, the story of the deed performed by the warrior in earning it was retold. Then the feather was fastened in its place on the war bonnet.

Originally the Indians made their tepees of buffalo hides, but since the destruction of the buffalo herds by the white man, domestic cow hides have been used, as well as canvas. New buffalo-hide tepee covers were made every spring. The size of the tepee depended somewhat on the number of horses the tribe or family had, because it required several horses to transport a large tepee. The poles were made of lodgepole pine, cedar, spruce, or any other straight tree. Flexible poles were not used. The poles averaged about 25 feet in length and tapered from 4 to 1 inch in diameter. In warm weather the lower part of the tepee was raised up on the poles to allow the breeze to blow through. In cold weather the space around the bottom between the stakes and the ground was packed with sod to hold it down tightly and to keep out the snow and drafts. When the tepee was new it was nearly white. But by spring, the smoke and the weather had darkened it at the top and the skins became quite transparent. At night the campfires made the tepees look like large Japanese lanterns. On the Great Plains the wind is usually from the west and for that reason the tepees were set up with the smoke hole facing the east. The flaps, or smoke hole ears, as they are called, were used to control the drafts and to keep the wind from blowing down the smoke hole. In case of a storm they could be lapped over to close the smoke hole completely.

Many Horses was putting the finishing touches on a bow he had been making when Hunter entered the tepee. Setting the weapon aside, he fastened his wizened old eyes on his eldest son and pursed his crinkled lips. “You look like you’ve been eating She Who Shakes’s plum pudding and bit into a plum pit.” Hunter was in no mood for jokes. “My woman has my hackles raised.” Sitting cross-legged, he picked up the iron poker next to him and began prodding the charred wood and ashes in his father’s firepit. “One unto the other, with no horizon, that is what she wants! Imagine her setting up a lodge, tanning hides, sewing, cooking, gathering wood, all by herself. And what if she became ill while I was away? Who would tend her? Who would keep her company? The way she believes, if I was gone for a long while, she couldn’t even go to Warrior to seek solace.” “Would you wish for her to?” Hunter gave the ashes a vicious poke, sending up a cloud of gray that made Many Horses cough. The truth was, he couldn’t bear the thought of Loretta with another man. “Right now, I’d give her away to the first man stupid enough to take her.” Many Horses kept silent. “All my children would be--” Hunter rolled his eyes. “Can you see me, surrounded by White Eyes?” “Ah, that is the trouble. She is a White Eyes.” Many Horses nodded and, in a teasing voice, said, “I don’t blame you there. No man could be proud of a son with white blood. He’d be weak and cowardly, a shame to any who claimed him.” Hunter froze and glanced up. The white blood in his own veins was an unspoken truth between him and his father. Never before had Many Horses alluded to it. Many Horses sniffed and rubbed the ash from his nose. “Of course, there are the rare exceptions. I suppose a man could raise a child of mixed blood and teach him to be one of the true People. It would take work, though.

The only way to build Göbekli Tepe was for thousands of foragers belonging to different bands and tribes to cooperate over an extended period of time.

At Göbekli Tepe there is a creature, sculted in high-relief, identified by Klaus Schmidt as a beast of prey with splayed claws and powerful shoulders, its tail bent to its left over its body. A very similar animal is seen at Cutimbo [in Peru] with the same splayed claws and the same powerful shoulders, while the tail instead of being bent to its left is bent to its right. At both Göbekli Tepe and Cutimbo, reliefs of salamanders and of serpents are found. The style of execution in all cases is very similar. At about the level of the genitals of the so-called "Totem Pole" of Göbekli Tepe, a small head and two arms protrude. The head has a determined look, with prominent brows. The long fingers of the hands almost meet. The posture is that of a man leaning down through the stone and playing a drum. This is also the posture of two figures at Cutimbo, who emerge from a large convex block on one of the circular towers. They have the same determined features and prominent brow ridges as the figure on the "Totem Pole." The two serpents on the side of the "Totem Pole" have peculiarly large heads, making them look almost like sperm. So, too, does the serpent that emerges from the dark narrow entrance of the Temple of the Moon above Cuzco. Lions feature in the reliefs at Göbekli Tepe, pumas feature in the reliefs at Cutimbo and again the manner of representation is similar.

Then there's the pillar statue in the semi-subterranean temple at Tiahuanaco [Bolivia]. Like the Totem Pole of Göbekli Tepe, it is anthropomorphic. Like the Totem Pole at Göbekli Tepe, it has serpents writhing up its side. Like the Totem Pole at Göbekli Tepe, the long fingers of its hands almost meet in front of its body. The face is human not animal, however, and it's heavily bearded. Nonetheless, the figure of an animal is carved on the side of its head and this animal resembles no known species more closely than it does Toxodon, a sort of New World rhino that went extinct during the cataclysms at the end of the Ice Age around 12,000 years ago. This isn't pareidolia--the figure is definitely there. So there's only one question--and it's difficult to answer: is this a depiction of Toxodon, or is it some creature of the artist's imagination?

Late in November, he suddenly appeared at Fort Lyon with the 3rd Colorado and other units and announced his intention to attack Black Kettle. Several officers remonstrated, declaring that the Cheyennes had been led to understand that they were prisoners of war. Chivington responded, as one of the protesters recalled, that “he believed it to be right and honorable to use any means under God’s heaven to kill Indians that would kill women and children, and ‘damn any man that was in sympathy with Indians.’“ On November 29, 1864, Chivington methodically deployed his command, about 700 strong with four howitzers, around Black Kettle’s village. The chief, shouting reassurances to his alarmed people, ran up an American flag and a white flag over his tepee. Then the troops opened fire and charged. The Indians fled in panic in all directions. Only one pocket of resistance formed, and that was speedily eliminated. Chivington had made clear his wish that prisoners not be taken, and a massacre followed as the soldiers indiscriminately shot down men, women, and children. Interpreter John Smith later testified: “They were scalped, their brains knocked out; the men used their knives, ripped open women, clubbed little children, knocked them in the head with their guns, beat their brains out, mutilated their bodies in every sense of the word.” Two hundred Cheyennes, two-thirds of them women and children, perished. Nine chiefs died, but Black Kettle made good his escape. As