Mythmakers Media presents Metra A Climate Revolution with Songs A serial scripted audio podcast produced and mixed by Tom Bowdy.
Just the music part two with the swing of an axe, a bleeding tree, bringing a few now on the world. Here are the facts of how we finally came to be revolutionary. Revolutionary kind of guy.
Go, corey, go, quarry, go, quarry, go. Yeah, hot. Getting hot so hot. World burning out of control.
Yeah, we've been brought where to the slaughter. By the lies those rich men told. Now they tell us not to fear. And let them save the day. Cause that's the same old shit that got us here. We gotta get them out of the way. Get the billionaires out of the way.
Take a note, but stop And who are we talking about? We're talking about you. Welcome to Baker. Welcome to Baker. Mid the baker's such a satisfied.
Tomorrow, tomorrow. Oh, but you know, before they get their stop, dropping, pop them out into the process. If we got it to the end of it, cause that'd be fine if they were suffering just a little bit. Did I really say that? No, we don't play that. Tip for tat combat. So yo, we gotta lay it down flat that get back out and put the shit away stack. Because tomorrow we win the bubble people over. Right? Now you know the hardships that have brought you here.
The loved ones, God, the famine, the thirst, the chaos, the security forces, and their guns. And the bubble people with all their food and water will be outside. I'm here to remind you of the pain in your past. It doesn't define you. We learn to be strong. We learn to be brave. We got to. There's a world to save. We're gonna change the situation. Strike a blow that's gonna lead to transformation. How do I know? Cause the answer's right before me.
And the power and the glory of you and your story. Gonna reach across the distance. Gonna break down their resistance. Come so far. Yes, who you are is gonna save us all those years, stupid numbers.
You're gonna open up their eyes and lead them to the left. Make them real life with a living lay right, make up the wide, make them stuff.
Now give yourselves a big round of applause! Let's move makers.
The myth of King Arisichthon and his daughter Metra from Ovid's metamorphoses. Here it comes. Get ready. Huh. Yeah, as written by Ovid in 8 AD, what he transcribed is what survived. Through the mist of history, King Erisigna is evil mysties. Oh, the damage that was done out of selfishness and greed. Yeah, Ovid wrote down a whole bunch of lines about the selfish king and his horrible crimes. But when it comes to Metra, we know much less. Ovid didn't think I was important, I guess.
Fucking Ovid. Fucking Ovid. Yeah. But there's somebody else who played a key role. Somebody totally left out. Who did Ovid leave in that narrative whole? Who do we know nothing about? My mother. Metra's mother, the wife of the king. Of whom I know nothing, not a goddamn thing. Ovid deemed her non-sential. My father kept her confidential. I need to know who she was. We all need to know because the revolution is conceived by Metra's mother. And uh tell us all about it.
Our lovely squaktress, yes, direct from the Greek islands. Let's give a big Cory's place. Welcome to that sultry siren, our fairy tale femme fatale, thank you.
A human being I felt sorry for. And it's a song about the man who did her wrong. So, with all due respect and deference to Aubrey, this is a little song I like to call Metro's Mother.
Goes like this: He cursed me the day you were born for not giving him a son. My body left broken and torn. No more worth on this earth or anything, or anyone. What do you at least I made it you? My beautiful daughter. That even he fell in love into me clearing. I could see it in his eyes. My body gave up. It be me, he would blame and despise my least he loves it, my beautiful daughter. And I cried as he took you away from me, and I died in a moment of clay.
Then no one knows me or my story, just like those who came before me. No, I never had a voice. If I could scream to be understood, beg forgiveness, that I made the choice for you to give birth to you into a world that crushes a girl.
I am a rustic fun king of thickly. Don't you mess with me? I take what I want, and I get what I need. I am a rustic fun and I like weed.
So everyone was like King, let the forest be!
Hmm. Let me think about it. Huh.
Now to be for you!
Had you know in there to die! Ho ho! Make you think I care to die! Well I don't! I don't care me cards! I am a person for king of the problem, I said, don't you mess with me? Do as I please fuck the cards! Those are my fucking trees.
From the axe blows, the blood flows. The people all cry, cause everybody knows residing inside those holy trees, the holy handmaidens of the goddess Ceres. A man steps forward before the neck swing and begs the king, don't do this thing, but my father cuts off that poor man's head.
Anybody else wanna wind up dead? I didn't think so.
Ovid then says I do absolutely nothing. Does Ovid mean I should have done something? What the fuck, man? I'm just a girl with a rotten fucking father in a rotten, cruel world. A nymph dies. A man dies. A forest shudders.
It's high time the people realize I am the only God.