asterix

*Am quite aware that very important diacritics are missing. Trying to remedy that when I use Greek text. My apologies to the purists.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Whatness of Horseness and Horseness of Whatness

While teaching an in situ program in Castiglione Fiorentino, Italy, one of the "situ" that we were "in" was the Vatican City Galleries and Museum. For one of my classes, "The Truths in Painting," perhaps the single most important visual image for the class was the Pope's chambers painted by no less than Raphael, highlighted by his "Scuola di Atene (School of Athens)" mural.

The painting, along with Raphael's bored-looking cherubs at the base of his Sistine Madonna, is perhaps the most widely recognized work by the artist.

In the center stand Plato and Aristotle, apparently having a philosophical discussion. Plato is seen pointing upwards, investigating the things above the earth, while Aristotle points doggedly to the floor, symbolizing his insistence upon the material universe to be championed above the ethereal Ideals of his former teacher, Plato.

Plato and Aristotle are the direct inheritors of the "curse" of Socrates in that they have come to represent two main ways of viewing reality: either as a Platonist who believes that this world is a flawed, less-than-perfect embodiment of a divine original Ideal world; or as a Aristotlean, believing that more or less, "what you see is what you get."

On the one hand, I remember having a conversation with a friend who is a patent lawyer of bio-medical devices, and in the middle of a discussion, he declared, "I am an Aristotlean" but at the same time acknowledged that he had never read a word of Aristotle. Another friend, said something similar when he was defending his choice to eat veal without remorse, more or less condensing a Heraclitian "man as the measure of all things" and Aristotle's teleological stance of "happiness." Neither one of them is "wrong" for saying what they did, but it is curious how deep these distinctions go in our society.

On the other hand, Platonic has come to be associated with relationships, rather than if there is a God or not. What is rather ironic about this is that the description that many people give about a "Platonic Relationship" is often conflated with no less than Aristophanes' description of "soul mates" in Plato's Symposium, and is then likewise attributed to Socrates, who was ridiculed by Aristophanes in his comedy, "The Clouds". Oh, what a tangled net we weave.

To return to Raphael's painting, one way the distinction has been made is by James Joyce's Stephen Dedalus who contemplates the Ephinany and tries to explain it to his friend Cranly in Joyce's bildungsroman "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man." Is there a whatness of horseness, meaning an essence of being "a horse," or is it a horseness of whatness, in that there is a part of everything in the whole of "whatness?"

Socrates' predilection for horse analogies was not lost on Joyce. However, what happened to the "horse" of Athens, once the "gadfly" of Socrates had been swatted down once and for all?

I imagine that wannabe philosophers might have begun to think twice about such an occupation that could prove to be lethal. More than just being banned, speaking out loud your thoughts that might irk your neighbor could quite easily lead to a witch hunt and a trial for your life.

Socrates warned that the great horse of Athens was wont to be lazy, to wallow in a lethargic stupor, getting angry when stung by his stories of horses, cobblers, and incessant questioning.

Not to be so bold as to assert that the Death of Socrates was the end of Athens, but I would go so far as to say it was a pebble in the waters that began to ripple rather largely. Was the "nature" of the horse, the great city of Athens, one of inertia? Sir Isaac Newton's later works on gravity and inertia may not have been as timely as they were without the history of scientific thought initiated by Plato's student, Aristotle,  but that does not diminish there importance. Is a great force subject to die by its own inertia then? When we are not goaded and prodded and annoyed and irked into motion, would we too not more often than not, just take a metaphysical nap?

Whether pointing up or down, the question I put to my students when viewing the painting is simple, "What do you think?"

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Exercising My Daimon

The charge of heresy against Socrates was largely due to his claim that he, for lack of a better word, had a hotline to the gods. Socrates asserted that he had a voice that he heard, that he called his daimon, which is an entity similar to an angel (which originally means messenger in Greek), that is something between humans and the Gods, quite like Hermes and the hermetic messages that he brought to mortals from atop Mt. Olympus.

In Plato's Apology, Socrates refers to this daimon quite a bit, and he likewise has to calm the madding crowd with his heretical remarks that this daimon is actually relating the will of God, most probably Apollo, as it was his oracle at Delphi who made the prophecy that no man was wiser than Socrates. However, as is often with Socrates, there is an ironic twist. Irony, for Socrates was not meaning what one says, (according to most scholarship on the subject, specifically Vlastos).

His daimon did not tell him what to do, but rather only told him when not to do something. So, for Socrates, the reason that he did not pursue a public political life is because his daimon never dissuaded him from not doing soon instead of urging him on to pursue one. A bit of reverse daimonology if you will.

For his closing statement, Socrates says that his daimon never stopped him from saying the things that he said during his trial, meaning that he had no regrets for what he said, nor that he felt he had given up his life without realizing the consequences. He needed to goad Athens and to annoy them and to irk them. For, as he correctly predicted, there would not be another one like him to follow. In fact, soon after his his sentencing was revealed and justice had been served cold to the Athenian population, they did in fact heavily regret their actions for putting him to death.

However, did his "curse" live on?

Demons have become a cliche in the past decade of self-help and recovery, and usually refer to something bad, a character defect, a fault, a sin.

A daimon was originally neither good, nor evil, but merely an intermediate essence or being that existed between the world of man and the world of the god/s. Daimons, soon to be demons started to become quite popular during King James I/VI of England/Scotland with his tome on Daemonologie around the time of Shakespeare. Now King James was a bit of a drama case, much like the current King James of basketball, and is more known for his Bible that his demons, but his legacy there is no less interesting.

Demons became quite a popular motif in the Flemish school of Painting around the same time,  most notably with Hieronymus Bosch's "Garden of Earthly Delights" where you get some pretty psychedelic rendering of demons, mostly ghastly and ghoulish, definitely not neutral.

Socrates felt compelled to listen to his daimon which helped to exorcise his demons and to help others to work on their own demons, though that work had to be done by themselves. You cannot exorcise another person's demons.

Over the years, I have been trying to take Socrates' charge to heart and to exorcise my own demons, which I have done. Many of them show up in Indra's Net, often mockingly (because nothing pisses off a demon more than being mocked) or when necessary, with all earnestness and seriousness if my demons have caused emotional duress or pain to others.

More important, for me at least, has been learning how to exercise my own daimon, and to be guided by that voice, which is beyond good and evil, and to learn to Know My-self.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Turn and Face the Strange

In both Plato and Xenophon's account of Socrates on trial, it is quite clear from the beginning where the verdict is going to go. This is not a cliff-hanger as it is no secret that Socrates is condemned to commit suicide by drinking a hemlock concoction as a death sentence to be carried out immediately, though it ultimately is postponed for a month because of a religious holiday. Normally, Socrates would have gone to his death the day following the trial, as he was prepared to do so. Fortunately for us, his brief reprieve and stay of execution resulted in Plato's Phaedo, perhaps the single most influential pre-Christian document regarding the nature of the soul.

But, before we get to the Phaedo, how did Socrates end his Apology, after the verdict had been made? Did he weep to the heavens, begging for mercy? Did he throw himself to the floor, kicking and screaming like a child, beseeching the gods for his fate? Did he faint? Did he convert to the State religion and make false amends?

Rather, he left the courtroom with Integrity, plain and simple. How did he integrate his philosophy of life and death and the nature of the soul into this parting moment, thinking for the time being that he would be dead in 24 hours, leaving the city that he loved dearly, his wife and children, his friends, and his very way of life, conversing with fellow Athenians, often irking them with his simple-minded stories about horses and cobblers, or nagging them about definitions of what is holy or justice, or whatnot? For some, supposedly asking "the wrong questions," a dubious charge for capital punishment sentencing when he was innocent of the formal charges against him.

Socrates asked the men of Athens in the courtroom to promise him one thing. One thing that would make his life justified.

He asked them to treat his sons with integrity and respect, but perhaps not quite the way one might think. He asked them to goad them and prod them if they should value money and material objects above a life of virtue and honesty, or questioning, and above all, if they should neglect the quest to live a life examined, to "Know Thyself." That was his request, his curse if you will, to the Athenians in the courtroom.

Know Thyself.

After this request, Socrates said in parting,


"Yet, for now, the hour has come to depart, for me to die, and for you, to live. Which of the two of us is going to the better affair, is unknown to all, except to God."

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

From the Cobbler's Mouth

The method of Socrates was the dialectic, a question and answer.

His interlocutors were those men, whether willing or not, who had scholia, or the leisure time to engage in philosophical discourse with Socrates.

There were several ways to go about such discourse, and amongst them, what was considered by many was to be a fee-demanding Sophist, whose art was to teach how to argue any point, both pro and con, to "make the weaker argument the stronger" and thus use speech to outwit your opponent. This is the origin of public prosecutors and defenders in western culture.

Was this a search for the "truth," or mere trickery of rhetoric and sleight of hand?

Socrates was accused then of all of the above trickery of rhetoric in the formal accusation, including make the weaker argument stronger, or in other words, being a Sophist who asked for money for his services on how to "win any argument."

Socrates, in his defense, appeals to the jury of peers to bear with him and not make a fuss. When reading the Apology of Plato, Socrates makes this appeal several times in the course of his defense, indicating that he was causing a major uproar in the courtroom. If you have ever been to Greece, it is not really in their nature to talk one at a time, quietly and politely waiting their turn. It is pandemonium and rather animated and passionate. I remember once being in Greece and thought two people were literally about to kill each other with gesticulations, supplications, appeals to the gods, promises of sacrificing first-born children, oaths of allegiance, etc. and pretty sure it was more like, "did you see the game on t.v. last night?"

One of Socrates' many appeals then is that he go about his defense by talking in the manner that is accustomed to him. Which means?

He starts talking about cobblers and horses. I am guessing that there was a collective groan in the courtroom when he brought this up again, thinking in unison, "If he goes off on those goddamn horses again, I'm going to kill him..." (which they did), but he goes off on those horses.

Cobblers were a popular source of inspiration for Socrates and often used to make a point about episteme. Episteme is, loosely translated, "knowledge." For Socrates, the cobblers were genius in their trade because they used an episteme, a form of knowledge, to make something, to have an end product. But, that is were it ends. Once a cobbler starts talking about horses, for example, he is out of his league of episteme and into the realm of doxia, or opinion.

That is what got to Socrates, opinions, or "it seems to me that ..." meaning, you don't know, so don't say that you do. For him, that was the true meaning of ignorance, to assert that you know something that you do not.

I was at the cobblers yesterday here in Amarillo to get my walking boots fixed because I walk a lot, and I will be walking a great deal in India. We chatted up for a bit, then it came to what I do and why I am in Amarillo. So, I explained, "I live in Belgium and am a translator and educator..." and so on.

Soon, we talked politics. I told him about the situation in Belgium without a formal government for over a year and how the country still runs, the ineffective king, the language battle, and so on. He expressed his malcontent of the state of a affairs in America, and so we had a conversation.

However, did it ever go out of the realm of doxia, or opinion? For my part, no. I began to think about the blogs I have posted on politics and they are merely opinions. I don't know. It is not my realm of "episteme" to talk about it, so I usually use satire or irony.

In the end, I don't really care if my cobbler is right or wrong about the Congress and President of America, but I do care quite a bit if my boots fall apart when walking through the caves of Ajanta, which I plan to be doing in a couple of months.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Head Up in the Clouds

Yesterday, on one our three flights from Brussels to Amarillo, my daughter was looking out the window and remarked as we passed through a large cloud, "Whoaah! That was a big cloud! Papa, look, there must be billions of clouds out there." Billions being the latest unit of measurement that she has latched on to.

But, there I was, with my head in the clouds, thinking about things like, "How will I feel when I return to Amarillo with my daughter this time as so much in my life has changed?" Or, "Will I be ready for the major heat shock, much less culture shock, going from nearly 50 degrees Fahrenheit to about 100..." "Will it be a good preparation for India?" "What will I blog about...? and so on.

Socrates brings up a well-known satire of himself, penned by Aristophanes in his comedy, "The Clouds" and says to the jury, that he is a busy-body, ζητων τα τε υπο γησ και ουρανα, investigating the things under the earth and heaven, depicted as an aloof and aloft fool, being carried about by the clouds, not walking the earth. Further perhaps, could not be from the truth.

When Socrates heard the oracle's prophetic announcement that none were wiser than Socrates, he set out on foot, as he was wont to walk barefoot through the streets of Athens, to talk with the man on the streets. Most of his philosophy deals with talking about cobblers and horses, much to the disdain of "true philosophers," who talk about much loftier thoughts, such as ethics and whatnot. Though, ethics is simply, that which we do on a daily basis, and who does that more than then next person? We all have our own ethics.

Socrates, as portrayed in the dialogs of Plato, at least, would often begin his discourses by asking his interlocutor whether he had the time, or scholia, to talk. Scholia originately meant leisure time, as who had time to sit around and talk about such head-in-the-clouds things? Places to go, people to see. Except Socrates, because his scholia, or scholarship, was to talk to people, asking them questions, irking them.

Before Socrates enters the law courts, he is hanging out on the steps of the court and along comes Euthyphro, a man of high repute for things religious and pious amongst his fellow Athenians. Euthyphro is in a hurry, he is the prosecutor for a high-profile law case. As we soon find out, he is taking his aged father to court on the charge of murder by neglect of a slave, who died under the custody of his father, and who had in turn had murdered another one of his slaves in a drunken argument.

Socrates asks Euthyphro if he indeed has the scholia, or free time to chat about the nature of Peity and Holiness. Euthyphro is annoyed because he is late for his case. Socrates, however, is asking him about what then is Holy? Euthyphro says that he does not have the time to educate Socrates on such matters, because the are too complicated.

Soctates leads the questions towards whether Euthyphro feels quite confident to condemn a man, his own father, to death, based on what he, Euthyphro thinks is the will of the Gods, but as is clear, he can't even answer the simplest questions about what he indeed thinks is "holy" or "pious" or "loved by the gods." Euthyphro, who doesn't have time for such questions, leaves in a huff, irked and annoyed by Socrates and goes into the court to carry out the prosecution, which will soon be followed by Socrates' own trial, which presumably is next on the docket.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Γνωθι Σεαυτον, Know Thyself

Socrates was sentenced to death for being accused of: 1) Corrupting the youth; 2) profiting monetarily for his teaching; and 3) not believing in the gods of the State.

In his apo-logos, his defense, he clearly shows that not one of these accusations is true. However, he receives the death penalty, something he does not dispute, but embraces. Why then was he convicted?

Reading the Apology, it is also patently clear why. In short, because he irked people.

Should we then condemn a man to death because he irks us by asking us one seemingly (operative word, seemingly) simple task: Γνωθι Σεαυτον, to Know Thyself.

Socrates claims that his mission began when a friend asked the Oracle at Delphi as to who was the wisest man, to which the answer was that no-one was wiser than Socrates. Socrates then set out to disprove this, not believing the prophecy. He began to question people who claimed to know something that would appear that they did not. He then proceeded to irk people with his goading.

He concluded in his search that he, himself, knew "nothing," but that is what made him wiser, the fact that he knew that the one thing that he did know, was that he knew nothing. 

When my students first read the Apology in the eponymous course that I taught ten years ago, upon which this blog is based, we took a vote as to whether or not to likewise condemn Socrates to death. I believe there was only one “no” in the group. Along with the disgruntled and irked Athenians, Socrates was put to death, on the spot, no questions asked.

I asked them, “was he then guilty of the charges?” To that, there was not a single confident “yes,” though five minutes ago, they were quite certain that, there will be blood.

They just didn’t like him, and that was enough to condemn him to death. They didn’t like the questions he asked, so he must die.

Defenses and apologies are often made because of a reason. Socrates had a reason. He was brought to the high court of Athens to defend his life.

How did he defend it?

Not by weeping. Not by beseeching. Not by suddenly finding God and converting to an established religion.

He defended it because he believed that, to borrow a Sanskrit term, it was his dharma, his duty, to ask these questions. Right or wrong, he had heard a supernatural voice, a daimon, all his life that guided him away from doing certain things. It was literally, the voice of his conscience. Agenbite of inwit.

Was he hallucinating? Was he mad, or manic? Or, was he mantic. In the Phaedrus, that one, seemingly innocent “t” between manic or man(t)ic that is the distinction between a madman or a genius, is the focus.

So, maybe he did ask the “wrong” questions.

The question that thus begins the Curse of Socrates, however, is rather, “Did Athens sentence a man to death because he was guilty of the charges, or because he irked them because he asked the "wrong" questions?”

Friday, July 15, 2011

'ο δε ανεξεταστοσ βιοσ

In his seventieth year, Socrates was brought to trial with the accusation that he was corrupting the youth, taking money for his services as a teacher, and that he did not believe in the gods (or any, for that matter) of Athens.

He was a scourge upon society according to his accusers. He must be dealt with, and soon.

The "Apology" of Plato recounts the trial of Socrates. An apo-logos means, "a defense," rather than what we know the word to mean today. Socrates was his own lawyer, though what he did with that power of attorney has perhaps not been repeated since.

Socrates not only incensed the jury of peers (501 of them), he suggested that the city of Athens should be grateful to have such a nuisance like Socrates around, for none to soon would another come around to, like a gadfly, sting the sleeping horse of Athens awake from her slumber. This slumber, according to Socrates, was an illness of the psyche, the soul.

Within the course of the trial, Socrates asks the jury, what he should do if he were to be acquitted, just sit down, shut up, and be a good boy? To this, Socrates reputedly responded,

ο δε ανεξεταστοσ βιοσ ου βιοωτοσ ανθρωπω

The life unexamined is no life of a human.

And, he would not shut up, sit down and be a good boy. It was his nature to question, to frustrate and to goad.

And, his fate was sealed with a verdict of death.