Is Ares a Jerk, or Just Misguided? A Deep Dive into the God of War
Once upon a time, on Mount Olympus, where the gods scrolled through ambrosia-filtered selfies, resided Ares, the celestial equivalent of a malfunctioning Wi-Fi router — annoying, disruptive, and guaranteed to spark a fight.
Now, picture a divine family gathering.
Think golden goblets overflowing with rainbow-colored cocktails, everyone sporting laurel wreaths that look suspiciously like last season’s holiday decorations, and Zeus trying to remember which influencer he’d recently turned into a houseplant.
In storms Ares, rocking his signature battle helmet (which he loses with the regularity of a toddler dropping a pacifier) and a permanent scowl that would make a bulldog blush.
He elbows his way through the crowd, knocking over minor deities like bowling pins, and declares, “Yo, fam! Who’s down for some war? Just dropped the DLC for ‘Siege of Sparta’ and it’s LIT!”
The other gods exchange exasperated glances, like parents watching their kid live-stream their bath time. Ares, oblivious, whips out his celestial sword, lovingly nicknamed “Stabby McStabface,” and starts swinging it around with the grace of a drunken windmill.
“War is my jam!” he proclaims, fist-pumping the air like he just discovered fire (which, ironically, he probably did at some point). “Let’s, like, totally conquer Athens! Or maybe throw a surprise raid party on Troy! What could possibly go wrong?”
The answer, as always, was everything.
Ares was the reason ancient Greece had more wars than a reality TV show had dramatic breakdowns.
He’d show up uninvited, the divine equivalent of a social media influencer crashing a wedding for some “content.”
And let’s not forget his love life — it was more chaotic than a comment section under a celebrity’s post. Ares hit on everyone: Aphrodite, obviously, and maybe the occasional dryad. His go-to pickup line? “Hey, baby, wanna see my chariot? It, uh, comes with complimentary emotional baggage.”
And there’s more! Ares wasn’t just a walking war crime; he was also the god of courage.
Yes, you read that right. Like saying King Kong moonlights as a ballerina.
Ares would charge into battle, yelling, “Fear not, mortals! I, the great Ares, am here!” only to promptly trip over his own toga and land face-first in a mud puddle.
The other gods would facepalm in unison, wondering if they could trade him in for a more competent deity, like Hermes or a particularly eloquent potted fern.
So, was Ares evil?
Well, it depends on your definition.
If evil means “constantly stirring the pot of drama and then blaming it on the burnt toast,” then yeah, Ares was the poster child. But if evil means “intentionally causing suffering,” then perhaps not. He was more like a cosmic toddler with a glitter bomb — messy, annoying, but ultimately harmless.
The Romans, in their infinite wisdom, decided to adopt Ares and rebrand him as Mars, the god of war.
They gave him a makeover: a snazzy new toga, a LinkedIn profile filled with military endorsements, and a catchphrase that would make any social media manager cringe: “When in Rome, conquer something!”
Suddenly, Mars became the ultimate career counselor for aspiring gladiators. “Listen up, centurions,” he’d say, leaning on his celestial spear. “Networking is key. And always carry a spare gladius — you never know when you’ll need to duel someone at a coliseum networking event.”
So, was Ares evil?
Maybe not evil, but definitely misguided.
Like that neighbor who insists on blasting heavy metal music at 3 am — loud, but not necessarily malicious. And as for his legacy, well, let’s just say Ares is the reason Greek mythology has more cautionary tales than a “How Not to Be a Demigod” handbook.
P.S. Ares is totally reading this right now. And he’s probably eating popcorn, because even gods need a good laugh (especially at their own expense).
Disclaimer: No celestial deities were harmed in the making of this answer. Any resemblance to actual gods, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Please consult your local oracle before attempting any divine shenanigans. I take no responsibility for any laughter-induced injuries. Seriously, consult a physician if you experience uncontrollable snorting.🌟🔥🍌
