sumerian scribe, 3000 BCE: yeah most of my day is chiseling the little arrows on the tablets. the arrows can mean grains, clay, poultices, all sortsa stuff (sighing) yeah i guess it's kind of a bullshit job
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“my ancestors worked hard to make sure I could get this tablet job and not be attacked by the Wind Demons of the Night, a risk we all know we must take if we farm”
I went to school to be a stone mason. I was pretty good, I guess. Now I do this and sell Tuh'u near the markets at night. It's enough to get by, but I'm not saving anything.
I'm developing a permanent hump on my right shoulder from how I have to scrunch up to hold the tablet, but the benefits are pretty good. They pay for 30% of my daily offerings of honey to feed my departed loved ones in the underworld, so that's pretty competitive actually.
Also, if I have to write one more tablet that's just a bitchfest about Ea-nāṣir and his shitty counterfeit copper pieces, I will consider learning to code for Hammurabi.
“Gotta chisel something about this Ea-Nasir guy….huh, someone isn’t happy about this copper…I’m sure it won’t matter in the long run. Nobody is gonna remember this…”
You know, if you look at it right “all the monks and cardinals are kinda foofy with their little jobs and organizations” is basically the point of the Reformation
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>farming my barley
>struck down by cursed bolt from demon
>catch smallpox
keep on scribing, scrivener
- Sumerian master chisler
All day, every day, it’s chisels. Except when we go to war. Then I’m making arrows too.