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Hoe vs. Plow

Aug 28, 2023, 2:34 PM

In the distant past, writing was the stuff of kings. Only a few were even trained in how to do it, and it was essential to any lasting form of governance. Codified laws to keep the peace internally…

The Code of Lipit-Ishtar

Peace treaties to keep the peace externally…

The oldest treaty in the world, between the Egyptians and the Hittites, after the Battle of Kadesh, 1274 BCE

And writing was as a record to preserve the cumulative knowledge of man and his place in the universe.

But the ancients didn’t just waste their time on trivial stuff like holding civilization together, the nature of God, the possibility of an afterlife, and the mysteries of the universe. They also used writing for important stuff.

Like fights between farm implements.

And so I bring you, LIVE, from ancient Sumeria and the very earliest known writings of man,

The Debate Between the Hoe and the Plow.

I want both of our participants to respect this venue and fight a fair fight. No cheap shots, no hitting below the belt, and no ear biting!

Alright, to your corners and when the bell rings, come out swinging!

The Hoe charges the center of the ring and starts throwing punches:

"Plow, you draw furrows -- what does your furrowing matter to me?
You break clods -- what does your clod-breaking matter to me?
When water overflows you cannot da m it up. You cannot fill baskets with earth. You cannot press clay to make bricks.”

“You cannot lay foundations or build a house. You cannot strengthen a wall's base. You cannot put a roof on a good man's house. Plough, you cannot straighten the town squares.”

Vicious. A strong opening flurry from the Hoe. No doubt followed by strong mocking…

But then the comes Plow’s counter blow…

"I am the Plough, fashioned by great strength, assembled by great hands, the mighty tool of [the god] Enlil. I am mankind's faithful farmer.”

“[During] my work in the fields, the king slaughters cattle and sacrifices sheep, and he pours beer into a bowl.”

“The king offers the beer, and the drums resound. The king takes hold of my handles, and harnesses my oxen to the yoke. All the great high-ranking persons walk at my side. All the lands gaze at me in great admiration. The people watch me in joy."

Well now. Beer has been invoked, and so the stakes are raised. Pass the straw. We got ourselves an old fashioned throw-down.

Do you have more to add, Mr. Plow?

"The furrow tilled by me adorns the plain. In performing my labor amid the ripened barley, I vie with the mighty scythe. With my sheaves spread over the meadows, the sheep of [the god] Dumuzid are improved."”

In other words,

Oh my! The Plow brings sheep into the scrum. And he name-checks the mighty scythe, everyone’s favorite and the nearly undisputed champion of farm implements.

Hoe has got to be intimidated by that.

I think Plow just insinuated that Hoe is a “lesser tier” tool. Ouch. This thing is turning ugly, and getting out of control fast.

Break ‘em up! Break ‘em up! Somebody get these two back in their corners!

For the safety of the observers, this thing probably should have been a Cage Match.

Hoe shakes off Plows blows, regains his composure, and hits back hard.

“I pile up stacks and mounds for [the god] Enlil. The orphans, the widows and the destitute take their reed baskets and glean my scattered ears. People come to drag away my straw, piled up in the fields.”

Aw man. Binging orphans and old widows into it? That’s low class, Hoe. Low class.

Sensing a weak spot, Plow delivers a vicious upper cut…

"Hoe, digging miserably, weeding miserably with your teeth; Hoe, burrowing in the mud; Hoe, putting its head in the mud of the fields, spending your days with the brick yards in mud with nobody cleaning you.

Digging wells, digging ditches, digging, digging, digging ……!"

Somebody call a referee! This Plow is going savage on Hoe! He’s cut! He’s cut!

"Wood of the poor man's hand, not fit for the hands of high-ranking persons, the hand of a slave is [your master]. When I go out to the plain, everyone looks on me with awe, but you insult me saying "Plough, the digger of ditches"."

FU you skanky Hoe!” (Ok, I added that last part in for dramatic effect. But you know Plow was thinking about saying it.)

Alright, we’re gonna separate these two since the sparks are flying. Just to let everyone cool down a bit. After a short intermission, we’ll resume the debate.

Hold him back…

Take a deep breath…

Hoe jumps right back in on Plow!

"Plough, what does my being small matter to me, at Enlil's palace I take precedence over you, in Enlil's temple I stand ahead of you."

"I build the embankments, I dig the ditches. I fill all the meadows with water. When a canal is cut, or when water rushes out of a mighty river, creating lagoons on all sides, I, the Hoe, da m it.” "The fowler gathers eggs. The fisherman catches fish. People empty bird-traps. The abundance I create spreads over all the lands."

So take that. You punk-azz plow.

“Plough, I come down to the fields before you. I open up of the field for you. I remove the weeds in the field for you. [I work alone, but] your oxen are six. And you want to compare yourself with me?"

"When you come out to the field …after my work is done…, you get entangled in roots and thorns, and your tooth breaks. Your farmer calls "This Plough is done for".

Body blow after body blow. Someone call a doctor! Hoe will simply not let up!

“Carpenters have to be hired for you. A whole workshop of artisans surrounds you. Your work is slight but your maintenance is grand.

My time of duty is twelve months, but your effective time is four months and your time of absence is eight months -- you are gone for twice as long as you are present. Anyone who drops you smashes you, making you a completely destroyed tool."

Oh sh**. Hoe just called Plow a tool. And a fragile, high maintenance, lazy tool at that. That’s just inhumane, even for inanimate objects.

"I am the Hoe and I live in the city. No one is more honored than I am.”

“I am one who builds a house for his master. I am one who broadens the cattle-stalls, who expands the sheepfolds. I press the clay and make bricks. I lay foundations and build a house. I strengthen a wall's base. I put a roof on a good man's house.”

“I am the Hoe, I straighten the town-squares."

He’s got a point.

"I have made the temples of the great gods splendid and embellished them with brown, yellow and decorative clay, I build in the city of the palace where the overseers live."

"When the weakened clay has been built up and buttressed, the [overseers live] in houses I have built. [Then] they rest on their sides by a fire which stirred up.”

“They feed the laborer, and give him drink and pay him his wages: thus I have enabled [men] to support [their] wives and children. I enable the boatman to support his wife and children. I plant a garden for the householder.”

“When the garden [plot has been laid out] people again take up a hoe. When a well has been dug, I am the one who puts water in the plots. After I have made the apple-tree grow, it is I who bring forth its fruits. These fruits adorn the temples of the great gods: thus I enable the gardener to support his wife and children. I put life into their hearts again."

So BOOM! I’m the GD HOE!

What a devastating barrage. This brutality can’t go on. One of these guys has got to dig deep inside himself and find the strength the finish this! (Lol. Dig deep)

Plow pulls himself out of the dirt for one last shot!

"Insultingly you call me "Plough, the digger of ditches". But when I have dug out the fresh water for the plain and dry land, those who have thirst refresh themselves at my well-head."

"What then does one person say to another? What does one tell another?

[And what did you do, hoe?] As houses were overwhelmed by the rivers, and Enlil frowned in anger upon the land, and Enlil had flooded the harvest, after Enlil had acted mightily [against us], the single-toothed Hoe was struck against the dry earth."

So I got your Hoe right here.

Alright, alright, this has gotten way, way out of hand. We have to shut this down. God is going to have to call this…

Enlil addressed the Hoe: "Hoe, do not start getting so mightily angry! Do not be so mightily scornful! Is not [the goddess of writing and grain,] Nisaba [your] inspector? Is not Nisaba your overseer?

The scribe will register your work, he will register your work.” (ie, you’ll get full credit for what you have done. So let’s ask Nisaba to settle this)

Well, Nisaba?

“Hoe, like a maid-servant, always ready, you always fulfil your task."

“[And so], The Hoe having engaged in a dispute with the Plough, the Hoe triumphed over the Plough -- praise be to Nisaba!”

So there you have it folks. It was a real back and forth grudge match. A titanic clash of tools. A throw (or hoe) down for the ages. But the Sumerian Gods have spoken.

HOE TOPS PLOW! HOE TOPS PLOW! HOE TOPS PLOW!

Your Undisputed Champion

From The Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature (ox.ac.uk)
The ETCSL project, Faculty of Oriental Studies, University of Oxford
The debate between Hoe and Plough

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All this perhaps comes from the writer's adage that there are only two stories (something weird happens or somebody comes for a visit), and only 7 plots. Millennia later we're reading about the tortoise and the hare.

Decades ago I would buy a friend beer and tacos about once a month just to hear stories. He was an officer with the Greenville Police Dept, and it's the stuff you don't hear about that is interesting and funny. They had just finished a periodic crackdown on prostitution - he said, "We can't really do much about it, but once in a while it gets out of hand and you just have to round them all up and get it back down to a quieter level" - the main sting being answering escort ads, meeting them in a hotel, and arresting them. The previous night a rookie cop was the bait, waiting in the room for the escort to arrive, with the mic on, officers in cars outside listening for the cue to make the arrest.

This particular hoe was pretty savvy. Knew what to say and what not to say, and the bait couldn't get her to make the magic agreement (name a price). On the other hand, he couldn't figure out how to manage the situation, so it continued to progress as he continued to try to produce an arrestable offense. Don said, "After a while the radios went silent, and one of us radioed, 'Is his mic still working?'. A few seconds later we hear moaning, and the captain shouted, 'Get him out of there, get him out of there!' So we bust in and there's Josh in the chair, pants down, she's fully clothed doing a blow job. We yanked him up, told her to get out of there. She gave us a wave as she exited the door. Josh never did live that down."

So, yeah, win or lose, the hoe is going to win. The plow isn't in it to win. It just has to be done.

Hoe vs. Plow

Re: Hoe vs. Plow

I RAed and TDed the post for leading putting plow and hoe...

Re: I RAed and TDed the post for leading putting plow and hoe...

Re: I RAed and TDed the post for leading putting plow and hoe...

Re: I RAed and TDed the post for leading putting plow and hoe...

Re: I RAed and TDed the post for leading putting plow and hoe...

Re: I RAed and TDed the post for leading putting plow and hoe...

I can't imagine why he didn't.

Re: I can't imagine why he didn't.

Tell me this wasn't your PHD dissertation!

Re: Tell me this wasn't your PHD dissertation!

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