Let's go back in time for a pair of curious tales. Enjoy the tour!
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Welcome to Aaron Manke's Cabinet of Curiosities, a production of iHeartRadio and Grimm and Mild.
Our world is full of the unexplainable, and if history is an open book, all of these amazing tales are right there on display, just waiting for us to explore. Welcome to the Cabinet of Curiosities. Let's talk taxes now. Of course, you note the gist right. The government collects taxes so that it can provide services to its citizens. That's the idea, at least, But we all know that it's not that simple. Taxes cause a lot of disgruntlement. People can't agree on what tax money should go toward. What they can agree that filing taxes is a pain. And we also know that the founding of the United States had a lot to do with tax But what about before all of this, how did the concept of taxation even come about? Well, as with most topics we discuss on this show, we've got to go back to ancient Egypt. Taxation in Egypt was as ingrained in the fabric of society as the Nile itself, shaping the course of its civilization. At the heart of Egypt's tax system was a levee on goods and services, in which officials collected dues in the form of grain, textiles, cattle, or labor. The amount someone owed was tied to their agricultural output. Successful harvests were subjected to higher percentages. In other words, a person's wealth determined their tax burden, just like today now, this harvest based tax served as a vital revenue stream. A portion of each harvest went to state granaries or storage centers. And yet the Egyptian state demanded more than just goods. It required labor too, which further bolstered the state's resources.
Some citizens might be required to do field work, quarrying, or construction. The evolution of tax collection methods mirrored the nation's governance structure too. Initially, during the Old Kingdom, taxes were levied on communities collectively, and as the government became more centralized, the pharaoh assumed a more direct role. He would tour the kingdom to collect taxes himself and insure accurate reporting. And then with the Middle Kingdom came a shift to individual taxation. This period marked a departure from those royal tours, replaced by bureaucratic oversights. This was caused by a rise in literacy. As people's ability to read and write increased, the government began employing scribes who meticulously recorded tax obligations. Now, the zenith of Egypt's tax system coincided with the new kingdom. At this point, tax collectors and scribes shrewdly managed the royal treasury. In fact, we know this today because the new kingdom also ushered in a wealth of record keeping. But what's more important to this story is the fact that taxes levied during this era funded grandiose monuments and celebrations showcasing the way, health and power of the Pharaohs. And for that reason, it's no surprise that alongside these advancements arose familiar pitfalls of governance, tax fraud, tax evasion, and corruption. Scribes and local officials colluded to under report taxes. Meanwhile, taxpayers devised inventive methods to avoid payment. State officials used scales to collect grain from farmers, so some farmers would add small stones to their grain to tamper with its weight. Outside forces further complicated matters. Persian and Macedonian occupiers introduced metal coinage, then imposed taxes on them, and this sparked discontent among the native population. Complaints about corruption and unfair taxation fueled rebellions against Macedonian rule. In particular, in a bid to placate influential groups such as high priests, Macedonian king Ptolemy the Fifth exempted certain temples from taxation. As a result, these temples became lucrative enterprises. But this only made things worse. But here's the truly wild part. You see, the dubious nature of this ancient tax system goes back to the start of our story. It was influenced by a force more powerful than any pharaoh or king. Because the true roots of Egypt's taxation can be traced back to the Nile River itself, where mechanisms known as nilometers were used to gauge flood levels, which in turn signaled the success or failure of the harvests. Nilometers were massive columns with marked lines chiseled all up and down it. They were surrounded by sprawling staircases so that rulers could identify water levels, which they used to predict harvest conditions. If the water rose above a certain point, that indicated flooding, If it was below a certain point that meant drought. Studying ancient civilizations always reveals enduring patterns. The world might have evolved and grown, but some things never go away. The tax man cometh, he always has and he always will. Everyone has to start somewhere. Before he was Han Solo, Harrison Ford was a carpenter working on film sets. Katy Perry was a gospel singer before she ever recorded a pop album. It may feel like some artists were born to do what they do, but the truth is it often takes a lot of trial and error before someone gets their big break. And on top of that, many artists draw from their experience working odd jobs before fame, and in the case of Piero, being a jack of all trades kind of became his calling card. From his earliest days, Piero learned that he had to make his own opportunities. He was born in fourteen fifty two, the product of an affair between his father, a wealthy notary, and his mother, a poor woman from town. Although his father took him in to raise him, he wasn't treated the same as other sons of nobles in Tuscany. They were tutored in Greek and Latin and read the Great thinkers of the ancient world and learned complex equations. Piero was lucky to learn to read and do basic math. He was a smart kid, though, with a talent for fine arts and figures, but he quickly saw that without the resources other wealthy boys had, he to have to think outside the box if he wanted to get by. So by the age of fourteen in fourteen sixty six, Piero had become an artist's apprentice. This gave him the opportunity to learn many skills, from painting and sculpting to carpentry and metal work. Over the years, he used those skills to fully embrace the Renaissance system of patrons and commissions. It was a medieval gig economy, and Piero was king of the side hustles. Like many aspiring artists, Piero got a job at a restaurant to make ends meet. In fourteen seventy two, at the age of twenty, he worked at a tavern called the Three Snails. His time in the kitchen inspired him to sketch fantastical kitchen gadgets, from giant whisks to a horsepowered nutcracker, and later on, when he redid the kitchen, menu. It was something out of a modern fine dining dream, with delicate card figures made of polenta and fresh vegetables. But the patrons at these Three Snails weren't exactly the Michelin Star type. They wanted big, hearty meals, not delicate portions, and soon the Three Snails went under. Piero continued with his art career into his twenties, painting things like an altar for a chapel or frescoes for a church, but his brain was always buzzing for new side hustles. Instead of painting what he'd been commissioned for, he kept spending time designing fantastical inventions and architecture. He would make engineering sketches of war machines, which he sold to the many powerful city states that made up Italy. He was so into his passion projects that he often had trouble focusing on one project at a time. That altar and fresco he never finished them. Rather than doing his actual job, he was building up yet another side business, master of feasts and banquets for Milan, and here Piero let his talent for extravagance really shine. One wedding he planned involved a humongous diorama of the planets, in the middle of which stood the happy couple. As the bride and groom walked by, each planet opened to reveal an actor dressed as the planet's namesake, delivering a poem. Other events didn't go so swimmingly, though. In one Piero created a two hundred foot long edible altar made of cake and polenta. On the morning of the wedding, he discovered that rats had already had their own wedding feast. Over the years, Piero wore a lot of hats. When he wasn't planning weddings and running restaurants into the ground, he was cutting up cadavers to study anatomy I hope he washed his hands in between, though, He designed machines far ahead of their time, and he even found time to finish a painting or two. One of them took direct inspiration from his time as a wedding planner. For example, when he was asked to paint a scene of Jesus and his disciples during their final passover Satyr, he remembered a reception that he had planned for the Duke of Milan back then to make guests feel like equals. He had put out one incredibly long table with all of the guests seated on the same side, and so he decided to do the same with this painting. Today you can see the products of his brilliant, scattered mind in some of the finest art institutions in the world. Just be sure to look under his full name, Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Mankey in partnership with how Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show, and you can learn all about it over at the Worldolore dot com. And until next time, stay curious.