Thurzó or Turzo (German; Hungarian: Thurzó; Slovak: Turzo; Polish: Turzonowie) was a Hungarian noble family from the 15th century to the first half of the 17th century. It was in Kraków (Cracow) that the rise of the Thurzó family began, and the family in turn boosted that city into an important center of business, science, and Renaissance high culture. The family's long-term involvement in capitalist enterprises, high-level politics, the affairs of the Church, and its patronage of the arts made the family rich, famous and powerful well beyond the city. Its achievements resembled the Medici family in Italy and France, perhaps the Fugger family in Germany. Key family patriarchs were Johann Thurzó (1437-1508) and his sons Johann (1466-1520), bishop of Breslau/Wroclaw, and Stanislaus (1471-1540), bishop of Olmütz/Olomouc. Karen Lambrecht argues that the family's most important role was in facilitating "intercultural communications." That is they used their vast network of friends, clients and allies to introduce new concepts in the arts, facilitate the exchange of ideas among scientists, and open contacts among different high status social groups.
Your traps are all baited
your scales are all weighted
but not resisting you would surely drive me insane
so im caught and convicted,
my rights are restricted
the imbecile dynasty continues to reign
your apathy of thought
has lead you to believe
that things are what they're not
my friend you've been decieved
the easiest route rarely leads to the truth
i see the self approval glaze your eyes
you know you're right
no need to worry why
a thousand stones remain unturned
in the wake of your unquestioned answers
and truth covered lies
traditions some bear
idly without out a care
but are determined that they stand unchanged
and those who choose to rebel
just to raise up some hell
tell me what are you hoping to gain
i cant reason with you
i speak words you can't hear
social conditioning left you with deafened ears
so i take your face in hand
see that look in your eyes
that rigormortis stare,
that look that i despise
and so i turn from you
i walk these streets alone
alone i search for truth
ideal that you've disowned
and wait with fingers crossed
and pray you'll someday find