Christ Crowned with Thorns, sometimes known as Christ Mocked, is an oil-on-panel painting by Hieronymus Bosch. It is held in the National Gallery in London, which dates it to around 1510, though some art historians prefer earlier dates. The painting combines two events from the biblical account of the Passion: the mocking of Jesus and the crowning with thorns. A serene Jesus, dressed in white at the centre of the busy scene, gazes calmly out of the picture, in contrast with the violent intent of the four men around him. Two armoured soldiers stand above and behind him, with two other spectators kneeling below and in front. The soldier to the right, with oak leaves in his hat and a spiked collar, grasps Jesus's shoulder, while the other soldier to the left, dressed in green with a broad-headed hunting crossbow bolt through his headdress, holds the crown of thorns in a mailed hand, about to thrust it onto Jesus's head. The position of the crown of thorns creates a halo above the head of Jesus. In front, the man to the left has a blue robe and red head covering, and the man to the right in a light red robe is grasping Christ's cloak to strip it off. The figures are crowded together in a small space in a single plane, in a manner reminiscent of Flemish devotional art of the type popularized by Hans Memling and Hugo van der Goes.Painting credit: Hieronymus Bosch
This Wikipedia page is considered semi-tractor-trailer-policy. Semi-tractor-trailer-policy pages are an attempt to jack-knife any real policies and present herculean efforts in codification to questionable purpose. These long-standing unwritten unapproved unthought unrules have widespread support since no actual vote ever becomes real. They should be treated as law, unless they do not support your flame war.
It is so terribly sad that I have to explain that the above is a JOKE
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
For unique design and interesting content, I present you with this Excellent User Page Award. –Frater5(talk/con) 16:12, 29 May 2006 (UTC)
_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg)
