algoretrout-blog

[algoretrout-blog]

washing machine quarters in columns on a cluttered bedstand

clothes aging on the floor, pick it up, throw it out, plastic wrappers in my hands

periodicals in plastics sleeves read in bold face aspiration

intalic font montgomery burns’s respirator persperation

toss it back and forth

long laundry cycle with a spliff on the porch

drinking some by the road when someone shouts hesitation

drives away wrangler jeans flie out with mr cleans license and registration

accompanied by earier works by tom york

everything in except paisley plaid jorts

pork quesillas laced with novelty bjork hot sauce

horton hears about a sale on filas find the store and leaf through moss

jeeps just crossed

for keeps but were lost

pages in my magazines looking slanted think the sales clerk melted the gloss

took a back from behind the counter cooking up a scheme using clearance dental floss

new car but high dental costs

no way to end i broke out some gummy worms for the cause

all the want is sour sgetti

boihood speakers playing parti

fetti on fetti on fetti

slip and slide between blades rockefeller plaza in the crowd

suit and sunglasses staring through but skaters croaking clouds

face masks student worried they’re wools getting loud

guys pushing through for who who its who knows now

dreamed of the same room as the night before.

steam and tunes these letters read like chores

better appease the moon i cleaned my room

appetizers please there coming over soon

celebrities  i don’t know say we should get some chow

tour manager from toronto saying chowder and other nouns

a while before i was sitting and kate sat down.

she had etymology dictionary she said weighed two and a half pounds.

calamari checking account low snow in june

ferrari printed decking humid air hot in his balloon

prick it with a pin

atari dolpphin fins

skipping to the bowling pins

clipping a cigarette throw it number seventeen spin

sin like it curves in the lane, back to back, no win

sipping pain how it feels to be the tin man’s twin

gutter land peeling the ghosts sun peeling skin

and he said from a hair on his chinny chin chin

mike chord twisted off of many whiskey gins

plenty of licorice braided around his shins

proper alley shoes for a little laced stint

only a few games before i start to squint

chewed on some onion rings then sucked on some mint

deliquette team etiquette irony our jerseys no lint

stared at rain dripping back towards me

standing by an led, said open but not to me

take two and make a meme

guzzle it and digest like a spleen

not just about some fiends, know what i mean?

sitting under bricks just a couple of teens

no league dreams with no team

or he said and saw grew green

forrest gump was on tv

opened a box a chocolates and saw me

keith, sweety,

beaming and all sweaty

gives me the heeby jeebies

little liege batter up types of scary

writes it down, bench warming stance hairy

slurped out out my nalgene, nine years old, fairly stoned, short stop chewing chaw on shepard fairy

stop staring at me

coach glaring at me

back seat

track meat

lunch meat

sports feats

cliche pastiche outer layer stripes nautic windbreaker

grand stand seats signs sharpie marker

pre spidey peter parker

and look meters and archer

meet the two seater prosche charger

tall blue hair buts with spray to get it more larger

another garder twisting in the seat jacket pocket

twisting while he’s driving louie got a broken socket

shoulder hurting bad so were driving to the doctor

ck getting mad in his calvin but were going like a rocket

[algoretrout-blog]

Transmortal: Euripides' Bacchae

The Prologue of The Bacchae begins unusually: “I have come to the land of Thebes as the son of Zeus, Dionysus is my name” (22). Not only is it a god speaking directly to the audience, which, from my experience reading limited classics selections of Homer, Sophocles, and others, is unusual, but it starts the play. This immediately makes me feel that Dionysus has a more human role than many of the gods, as is his birthright, “Semele… gave me birth” (22), because he is putting himself on a similar plane to the mortals in the play and the audience. As far as I can tell, many gods let the actions speak for themselves, perhaps, declaring some divine truth at the end, but Dionysus explains himself to mortals from the beginning.

The subject of the Prologue has a similar effect of making Dionysus appear to be putting himself on a mortal level because he is explaining himself to the audience, as if asking for support or help in his plight to convert Thebes to the Bacchic cult. The way in which he does this makes him seem more like a politician or conqueror than god. He explains first how he is godly, as shown in his introduction, similar to how a politician might explain his great education or experience in leadership or a conqueror might flaunt his heritage and wealth. Then, he explains how he has supporters elsewhere, “After leaving the golden rich fields… full of Greeks and barbarians mixed together” (23), as a politicians hand out bumper stickers and have campaign ads showing supporters or a conqueror would describe the lands over which he rules. Dionysus also describes his plan of gaining more support, “I will wage war on the city” (25), which is very similar to that of a warlord, but also similar to a politician describing his campaign or ability to move legislation. Politicians are constantly trying to convince through debates and ads why their party is the best, Dionysus does this, too, “This city must learn well, even if it doesn’t want to learn” (24). He does it more like a conqueror than a politician. Lastly, like an attack ad on a political opponent or a conqueror’s wartime diplomatic talks, the god explains why his opposition is misguided and weak, “Pentheus, fights against the gods by fighting against me… I shall show him I am god” (25). All of this together makes Dionysus seem more human than god in the Prologue because he is too passionate about gaining support from humans, even though, as Cadmus says in Act V, “Gods ought not be like mortals in their passions” (93).

It is true that the ancient gods were generally jealous and vengeful, sinking to a “passionate,” human level; the God of the Hebrew Bible is brutal and the twelve major deities of the Greek pantheon were known to have affairs and fights with mortals, for example. These gods, however, would have no mercy in their treatment of mortals that wronged them — Poseidon uses winds and waves to block Odysseus from getting home and the Hebrew God banished Adam and Eve at the first sign of rebellion. Dionysus in The Bacchae, and Prologue especially, seems to be directly appealing to the mortals. This tendency is also seen in how he attempts to gain support. While he uses his power to convince the women of Thebes he is a god, he is much more political with the men, especially Pentheus, “He [Pentheus] thrusts me away from his libations and mentions me nowhere in his prayers. For this reason I shall show him and all Thebans I am god” (25). He shall show, not make. On the other hand, it is true that other ancient Gods do attempt to garner true support first, and then make the mortals suffer their wrath, as Dionysus eventually does to Pentheus. However, as described earlier, Dionysus in the Prologue appears to be wanting to gain support on a human level, as described earlier.

Because the plot of The Bacchae is the story of Dionysus becoming an accepted Greek god, it is worth acknowledging that his bbehaviorin the Prologue isn’t very godly because it switches how one sees Pentheus and the city of Thebes. I felt initially Euripides wrote in support of Dionysus, showing the foolishness of Pentheus and Thebes, but if the god isn’t very godly, then the Theban image is changed. There is even more reason to see why Thebes may not view Dionysus as a god than the events in The Bacchae; for instance, as Shane said in class, he hasn’t done the same godly acts as the twelve original gods — namely, overthrowing the Titans, and there are other sons of Zeus who aren’t elevated to the same godly status, such as Heracles and Perseus, but have performed feats almost as impressive as Dionysus. This, combined with Dionysus’ behavior in the Prologue makes me question if the outcome of The Bacchae — Dionysus ultimately being accepted as a god — is the logical outcome.

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Is this USDA Certified Bacchic? Euripides' Bacchae

The Bacchae shows the relationship between a classical civilized culture and an uncivilized culture. This relationship is shown in many spaces. The setting shows the dichotomy. Thebes shows a civilized realm of modern society, a wall surrounds the city, “Lock every gate in the encircling rampart” (55), and more advanced warfare is often used, “Thebans, with wrath and weapons” (25). The other setting, Mt. Cithaeron, is the opposite, where people engage in wild acts, “Some [Maenads], holding in their arms a fawn or wild wolf cubs, offered them white milk — those who had just given birth and whose breasts were swollen” (56-57). The dichotomy is also shown through the differences of the two main characters, Dionysus and Pentheus. Pentheus is civilized, thinking he is part of the most civilized culture, “That’s because [foreigners are] much more foolish than Greeks” (45). Dionysus embodies the natural, less civilized world, “Appear as a bull, or a many headed snake, or a fire-blazing lion to behold” (74). The conflict that continues throughout the play, between Dionysus and Pentheus, the Bacchic cult and a more traditional Greek cult, and the settings of Mt. Cithaeron and Thebes, are then in many ways the conflict between the civilized and the natural.

This conflict is more complicated, however, for Dionysus and other embodiments of the natural theme aren’t simply “natural” or the polar opposite of Pentheus. Dionysus, while of nature and uncivilized, is also the son of the ruler of Olympus and a royal woman, “The son of Zeus… Semele, daughter of Cadmus, gave me birth” (22), making him of the highest nobility. He is a mix of society and the wild. The Chorus is similar. This group of Bacchae are from Asia, “From the Land of Asia I hasten” (26), making them, to Greek audience less civilized, but they play a traditionally Greek role in the play, at the end summing up wisely the intention of the The Bacchae, “Many are the shapes of divinity… Such was the outcome of history” (96). Dionysus and the other wild beings in the play are not truly uncivilized, but rather a blend of the powers.

In his fight against Pentheus, Dionysus is attempting to gain respect in Greece, after he has gained reverence in the more wild Asian lands, “Asia Minor… Full of Greeks and barbarians mixed together… I first came to [Thebes] only after I had roused dancing to all these Asian lands” (23). He is moving his blend of the civilized and the natural through to the more civilized areas. Euripides shows him succeed against the classic civilization, “Pentheus: ‘I command you to lock every gate in the encircling rampart.’ The Stranger: ‘But why? Don’t gods scale walls?” (55). His power comes from his blend of the natural and the unnatural, and this (along, of course, with his godly power) allows him to conquer Theban society.

The translator suggests The Bacchae operates as Euripides’ criticism of the Greece in which he lived. I see Euripides criticizing the hyper-pride the Greeks have for their civilization, shown through Thebes and Pentheus. In the end this leads to them killing their own ideal of civilization. This is shown when Agave kills Pentheus: “This is Pentheus’ head that I am holding… He was insulted by our insolent hybris” (89). Euripides is, perhaps, suggesting that Greece has grown too full of itself and society, and may need to reconsider their societal ideals.

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Argue, Calculate, Spin : Plato, Kaku, and Huxley's Higher Dimensional Guide

Plato often describes the relation between the body, mind, and attainment of knowledge in Phaedo. The way in which he writes of Socrates describing this intersection is quite similar to how other thinkers have written about similar matters, most notably, to me, Michio Kaku in his popular science book, Hyperspace, and Aldous Huxley in his famous psychedelic essay, The Doors of Perception.

The similarities between the thinkers come from a desire — and, perhaps, an ability — to extend beyond the limits of the human body to attain knowledge. Socrates’ description of why he isn’t afraid of dying describes this separation to attain knowledge, “If no pure knowledge is possible in the company of the body, then either it is totally impossible to acquire knowledge, or it is only possible after death, because it is only ten that the soul will be isolated and independent of the body” (Plato 128), similarly to the way in which Huxley describes mescaline allowing him to attain a different form of knowledge, “My body seemed to have dissociated itself almost completely from my mind… No longer accompanied by an awareness of my physical organism” (Huxley 15). Kaku describes a similar experience, but instead of losing a sense of one’s body, it is losing a sense of one’s spatial dimension, to transcend into a higher dimension with mathematics and physics, “Several thousand papers written by theoretical physicists in the major research laboratories around the world have been devoted to exploring the properties of hyperspace” (Kaku 9). Each is describing transcending to a higher plane to find a higher truth in very similar, but also very dissimilar, ways.

Each thinker also has parallel thoughts on what it is like to not be transcended into this space, viewing it as only a dreary representation of the true world. Plato describes the bodily world as only a certain shadow of a greater world, “The water, mist, and air are the edges of this ether, and they are continually draining into the hollow places in the earth” (Plato 189). Huxley describes objects as less “real” when not under the influence, describing a chair during his mescaline experience as “incomparably more real than the chairs of ordinary perception” (Huxley 8). Kaku describes the bodily state — in his case, the three-dimensional state — as also being only a sort of shadow of reality, as well, “Our three-dimensional laboratories are sterile zoo cages for the laws of physics” (Kaku 12). The world we see is only part of the world that is out there.

Each thinker sees the “normal” world as one which is skewed because we don’t have the faculties to see it, making it only “normal,” not necessarily reality. Socrates says this is because of the body, “Soul is a helpless prisoner, chained hand and foot in the body, compelled to view reality not directly but only through its prison bars, and wallowing in utter ignorance” (Plato 152). Huxley because our doors of perception our closed “so as to protect us from being overwhelmed and confused by this mass of largely useless and irrelevant knowledge… to make biological survival possible, Mind at Large has to be funneled through the reducing valve of the brain and nervous system” (Huxley 6). Kaku acknowledges this lack of ability, as well, “one cannot visualize a four-dimensional object in its entirety” (Kaku 69). The world is larger, but we can’t see it because the act of needing to live normally, not in a quest for truth, prohibits us. This doesn’t make our world the true world, however.

What connects each of these accounts is the Platonic concept of Forms. The Form is what one sees when they transcend. Socrates describes the Form through describing beautiful things, “The one thing that makes that object beautiful is the presence in it or association with it of that other Beauty” (Plato 176). Huxley only saw these Forms after he has taken mescaline, “A rose is a rose is a rose” (Huxley 8). The Forms of physics that Kaku describes, are the forces of nature, “forces only able to be described with advanced mathematics and physics, “the hyperspace theory  allows the possibility of explaining the four forces of nature” (Kaku IX). For each disparate thinker, the true goal is to transcend to observe the Forms.

Seeing the Forms is the only way, in the view of these thinkers, to see the true nature of things. This is to people who spend their entire lives thinking, of course, a very important task. Socrates’ says “true philosophers make dying their profession” (Plato 129) because this way they can avoid the body and even lesser mind and see only the true Forms. Huxley says it is the only through transcending to the higher state described that we don’t not only “pay serious attention to anything but words and notions” (Huxley 23), but also to see how things really are, “The fact had been manifested Suchness; this was only an emblem. Such emblems are sources of true knowledge about the Nature of Things” (Huxley 8). To scientists, like Kaku, being able to transcend and see this nature is important because it allows us to create scientific axioms. The Forms must be seen, these thinkers try to discover how to do it.

This similar need to transcend and see these Forms across disciplines and time suggests to me that there is either something in us or the universe which truly is defined by Forms. This might be the Platonic Form of things, as Huxley and Plato describe, but it might also be the four forces of nature, as physicists describe. In my opinion, they are one in the same, and they seem crucial to discover to attain the most fundamental knowledge about the world.

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I Fought the Law: Apology and Crito

Martin Luther King, Jr., wrote in his letter from the Birmingham jail, "There are just laws and there are unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that an unjust law is no law at all” (http://rense.com/general32/duty.htm). In Apology and Crito, Socrates is in a similar position as King was after his arrest in that he is in jail for revolutionary ideas, “Socrates is guilty of corrupting the minds of the young, and of believing in supernatural things of his own invention instead of the gods recognized by the State” (Plato 48). In these writings, Socrates often is viewed, and seems to view himself as a revolutionary: like how Malcolm X coined Sartres famous phrase, “by any means necessary,” Socrates said, “Where a man has once taken up his hand… taking no account of death or anything else before dishonour” (Plato 54); he rejects the societal norms thrust upon him, “Wealth doesn’t bring goodness, but goodness brings wealth and every other blessing” (Plato 56), similar to the way in which Thomas Jefferson claimed to do the same, “The glow of one warm thought is to me worth more than money” (http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/t/thomas_jefferson.html); he believes and touts that his way is the best way for society, “You put me to death, you will harm yourselves more than me” (Plato 57); and he sees great flaws in politics, “If I had tried long ago to engage in politics, I should long ago have lost my life, without doing any good either to you or to myself” (Plato 58). The way in which Socrates behaves in the Apology suggests he has true revolutionary zeal — the zeal isn’t for an overthrowing of government, but for an overthrowing of illogical philosophy.

In Crito, though, Socrates’ revolutionary ideals suddenly change. This change is most evident in his discussion of the Laws of Athens, which he uses to describe why he must stay in prison. First, he says it’s impossible for a city “to exist and not be turned upside down, if the legal judgements which are pronounced are nullified” (Plato 50). He is no longer in favor of showing his ideas with all their strength because he is concerned with keeping the current institution alive. He says breaking free from prison will “destroy your country and… its Laws in turn” (Plato 91). However, Socrates seems to be forgetting his ideas suggested in Euthyphro about holiness, and this makes him lose his revolutionary fervor. In Euthyphro he describes that which governs men to be a universal conception of holiness, not ideas created by other men, like the democrats  that create the Law of Athens. He is acting as if the laws are holy, but in reality he must realize King’s ideal that “an unjust law is no law at all.” Socrates is unwilling to acknowledge the underlying factors of his imprisonment in Crito, even though in Apology he was. He is, in fact, taking a step backwards, by reinforcing totalitarianism notions of an infallible governing body.

His ideals are also changed in a separate section of Crito in which his duty as a citizen is considered. In Crito, he seems to believe that living in Athens means supporting the government, “So deliberately have you chosen us, and undertaken to observe us in all your activities as a citizen” (Plato 93). This view is similar to the view of Back-to-Africa movement, which belongs to a genre of movements which “solves” problems not by fixing them, but by eliminating those negatively affected by them. The more revolutionary Socrates of Apology has a different view, “You put me to death, you will harm yourselves more than me” (Plato 57), which shows his desire not to leave problems behind, but rather to face them and improve where he is. Socrates giving up his radical ideas in this context also contradicts his goal as a philosopher, which isn’t to abandon problems when he comes to them, but to “settle here, there, and everywhere, rousing, persuading, reproving everyone” (Plato 57). It is curious that in the context of his death, Socrates’ views have changed.

It is unclear why Socrates goes from a revolutionary thinker to a law abiding man. One explanation may come from King in the same letter from the Birmingham Jail: “I submit that an individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust, and willingly accepts the penalty by staying in jail to arouse the conscience of the community over its injustice, is in reality expressing the very highest respect for law” (http://rense.com/general32/duty.htm). This may be true because Socrates sees his imprisonment as aligning with his previous morals and allowing them to keep their validity after his death, “Patriots will eye you with suspicion [if you escape]… You will confirm the opinion of the jurors” (Plato 94). This seems only partially valid, however, because by staying in jail Socrates isn’t protesting, but protecting his own skin, “Nor will [escaping] be better for you in the next world” (Plato 95), and in this way he is promoting the very system which he was previously fighting against.

It seems to me that Socrates wouldn’t have been so contradictory in his death, for in his life he strived for logical explanations of phenomena. It seems more likely that Crito isn’t true to the event or written by a semi-reliable source (like Plato). Other scholars agree, “There are certainly oddities about which need explaining… a lack of any obvious ‘Platonic’ metaphysical or psychological infrastructure” (Tarrant 73). It is also possible that Plato wanted to warp the events to make himself out to look better in his mentor’s death, “It will look as though we had played something like a coward’s part all through this affair of yours” (Plato 83). I’m not expert enough to know why Socrates’ view changes in Crito, but I don’t think it is necessarily because of Socrates.

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That Ain't Right: Parthenon and Apology

(This post refers to a series of slideshows detailing aspects of the Parthenon.)

Ancient Greek society is famed for creating the logical institutions upon which many modern societies lay. Famous among these are democracy and a fair trial. In the Apology, however, we see a clearly unfair trial taking place, “Their arguments were convincing. On the other hand scarcely a word of what they said was true” (Plato 39). The Court of Athens is prosecuting Socrates based upon rumor and previous prejudice against him, “I must try… To rid you minds of a false impression which is the work of many years” (Plato 41). It seems to me that the court didn’t intend for the trial to be unfair, “Matters which had taken place… Before a very large jury (traditionally said to have been 500 or 501)” (Tredennick 33), but rather that the way in which Greek society operated made it unfair. Chief among these societal factors was the piety of the court.

The trial of Socrates takes place in part because he is accused “of believing in supernatural things of his own invention instead of the gods organized by the state” (Plato 48). The trial appears to be taking place for this reason — a reason based purely on rumor, “There is nothing in any of these charges” (Plato 43). Other than this, the evidence is unsteady, “They do not want to admit their confusion, they fall back on the stock charges against any seeker after wisdom” (Plato 47), which makes it seem the trial may not have been brought up if it wasn’t about something as important as religion. He is brought to court because the Greeks are so zealous, and this zealousness shrouds their vision of justice.

The zealousness that leads to the death of Socrates is shown very clearly in the Parthenon. The Parthenon is one of the most grand structures of its time, as seen on slides three through twelve of “Architectural Views,” which show the the building to be massive and on top of a hill overlooking much of Athens, and with many columns nearly as wide as a man is tall, such as seen on twenty-two. This structure was built as a tribute to only one of the twelve of the original gods of Mount Olympus, Athena, showing how intense the religious zeal for the entire religion must have been. When there is this much reverence for the gods, it makes it nearly impossible to have a fair trial that involves issues concerning them.

Another factor related to Greek piety which affects the fairness of Socrates’ trial is the Greek notions of the ideal human, built around ideas of the the gods’ appearance. Throughout “Sculptural Views,” especially slides twenty through twenty-seven, we see the Greek ideal of beauty: straight noses, olive shaped eyes, symmetrically proportioned bodies, soft and toned muscles, and perfectly curly hair. Socrates didn’t meet this ideal, as we talked about in class; he was most likely short, had a snout-like nose, beady eyes, an oddly proportioned body with stringy muscles, and a balding head with hair dirty from infrequent bathing. The Greeks believed appearance reflected character, thus the more you looked like the gods, the more you were like the gods. Because Socrates didn’t look like the gods, he wasn’t considered to be a good man, and this would have negatively affected his trial.

The sculptures of the Parthenon, shown in “Sculptural Views,”  show the valor of the gods — Athena’s beauty on slides forty-eight through fifty-two, battle on slides twenty-five through twenty-eight, and heroic feats, such as the defeat of a centaur on slide seven — but don’t show the injustice the worship of these acts cause. It is great degree harder to have an operating democracy or fair trials when there is such worship because the religious ideals will come before logic in many cases.

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Mathemagic: Euthyphro

In Euthyphro, the way in which Socrates develops Euthyphro’s idea of holiness and piety is often mathematical. The arguments Socrates makes against Euthyphro’s claims are usually spoken renditions of mathematical ideas. The mathematical nature starts during the first major idea explored in the text, “Then it gets approved because it’s holy; it’s not holy by reason of getting approved” (Plato 21). The translators describe this mathematically: if A determines B, and B determines C, but A and C are unique constants — B doesn’t usually determine A. This statement shows the typical non-transitive nature of “If/Then” statements, used often in mathematical proofs.

At the end of the text, a similar mathematical argument against Euthyphro’s notion of why holiness isn’t concerned with looking after the gods comes from Socrates, “The cattle farmer is looking after cattle… Is holiness too, qua ‘looking after’ the gods” (Plato 26). I have a mathematical interpretation of this: first, I assign the labels X1 and X2 to that which is looked after  —  cattle and gods, respectively. Then, farmers and holiness — that which looks after — is considered to be a function, F, of either of these variables because these are the things which use the variable to create an outcome. Socrates argues that when either variable is put into the function, the same result is created, F(X1) = F(X2). In the context of his idea, the same result is the holiness and farmers “make them better” (Plato 26). He says this is illogical because gods can’t be made better, and therefore Euthyphro's notion is false. The two move on in the classic Socratic manner.

Socrates spends most of his time not explaining why his mathematical statements are true, but, through his Socratic Method, why they apply to the situation and why other contradictory ideas are false. In the first example, Socrates first shows that the gods don’t agree on what is holy, “The same things, it’s likely are both disapproved of and approved of by the gods… The same things would be both holy and unholy” (Plato 17), then continues to show why the mathematical idea (A → B and B → C, but A ≠ C) can apply in the case of holiness, “Something does not get approved because it’s being approved by those who approve it, but it’s being approved because it gets approved…  Then it gets approved because it’s holy; it’s not holy by reason of getting approved” (Plato 21). Socrates follows the same method in the second example. First he shows why other ideas aren’t true, “The cattle farmer is looking after cattle… Is holiness too, qua ‘looking after’ the gods” (Plato 26). Then, he sets up the idea showing its wrong and how it applies in the mathematical context, “Does it make them better?” (Plato 26). Both of these steps are necessary and useful in making points about real life through mathematical means, but they aren’t the only steps.

The arguments don’t cover why the mathematical concepts are necessarily true, however. In the first example, the mathematical logic is sound before applied, but Socrates doesn’t truly confront the issue of why A ≠ C in his example — though he comes close, “The same things, it’s likely are both disapproved of and approved of by the gods… The same things would be holy and unholy” (Plato 17). The gap in this argument of why A ≠ C is such: he proves A ≠ C by saying A → B and B → C, so B → A, “Then it gets approved because it’s holy; it’s not holy by reason of getting approved” (Plato 21). But this statement is reliant on A ≠ C, the very thing he is proving in the first place! His givens are unknown.

Socrates’ mathematical logic also doesn’t hold up in the second example. His premise is that F effects X1 and X2 in the same way, “The cattle farmer is looking after cattle… Is holiness too, qua ‘looking after’ the gods. Does it make them better?” (Plato 26). This shows the fallacy in Euthyphro’s logic, supposedly. However, by the very nature of the way in which functions work, what one puts into a function changes the output. For example, for the function G(y) = y2, G(4) = 16, but G(2) = 4. In the context of Socrates’ argument, this means that holiness doesn’t mean improving the gods even though it does look after them because the function of “looking after” doesn’t necessarily yield the same for the two independent variables. Potentially, the function could produce the same result; the function H(z) = 1, for example, does yield the same result for all inputs. If the looking after function is like H, the disproof of Euthyphro’s is valid, but Socrates doesn’t show this to be true, he uses semantic similarities to make it seem true. This, in mathematics, is called a mathematical fallacy, a proof that conceals a concept. If one, philosopher or mathematician, addresses this concealed concept it, is no longer a fallacy, but Socrates doesn’t address his tricky semantics. He doesn’t prove, therefore, that F(X1) = F(X2). In this way, Socrates has pushed their discussion of holiness along without reason, meaning that he may have skipped over the truth.

The Socratic Method used in Euthyphro yields interesting results, but I find errors in the logic. Socrates seems overly bold in his assumptions that what he is saying is correct and what Euthyphro is saying is wrong, and because of this doesn’t bother to explain his ideas fully. This overconfidence is shown in Socrates’ condescending nature, “It would be best for me to be your pupil” (Plato 13). Though Euthyphro is often quite obviously thinking illogically, Socrates is doing the same, but it’s not noticed because addressing his fallacies requires one to stop and think. The problem to me isn’t that Socrates is pompous — he is trying to guide Euthyphro, not create his own philosophy — but rather that through this carelessness he is going to quickly past ideas that may be true. Because of this, we may be missing the truth.

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In the past, my exposure to classics has been through male or gender neutral storytellers. Sappho’s poems show the female view of Greek Society and life. She wrote that it isn’t war that is most beautiful, but rather “she whom one loves best” (Knox 2); She prayed to the most female of goddesses, “Throned in splendor, deathless, O Aphrodite” (Knox 1); her poems suggest homoerotic relationships, “I said answer to her… The soft bed (where) you should satisfy… desire” (Knox 4) ; and each one of her poems clearly acknowledges her femininity, “To hear the soft voice” (Knox 3). Her writing evidently is about being a woman and being female.

However, this lense of the female writer is much less prominent in certain parts of West’s translations than in Knox’s. Certain elements that show the female nature of the poem in Knox’s translation are partially absent from West’s. In the West translation of what is most beautiful it isn’t “she whom he loves best” (Knox 2), but rather “who one loves” (West 2). The homoerotism isn’t as blatant in the West translation as the Knox translation. Where Knox translates, “The soft bed (where) you should satisfy… desire” (Knox 4) , West is more cryptic, “No grove… no festive dance” (West 4). While neither changes the subject of the poem, the translations change the tone and the way in which the reader reads.

Both approaches to interpreting Sappho have their merits. Of what I know of Sappho, she was very much involved in exploring the feminine, and it is therefore important to show this clearly in her work. In the poem, “Honest I want to die” (Knox 4), it is important to include the blatant notion of lesbian sex and lesbian relationships because this poem may have been written about the the lesbian women of Greek society becoming married not for love, but out of cultural tradition or necessity, “It’s not by choice; I don’t want to leave you here” (Knox 4). Similarly, it may have been Sappho’s intention to highlight the feminine beauty of the world compared to the masculine when writing about the fairest things, “Some would say ships; but I say she whom one loves best is the loveliest” (Knox 2). Through Knox’s interpretations, therefore, we are seeing Sappho’s role as a female poet very clearly, allowing us to explore these issues with ease.

However, the poems of Sappho have layers, layers that go deeper than sex or gender. For instance, when writing about what is fairest, Sappho may have been writing partially about gender, but more broadly about that which is most beautiful being what one personally finds joy in. In this case, the West translation is more apt, allowing us to see the poem with its layers more clearly, “But I say, what one loves” (West 2). Sappho may have been writing about women, but have intended for the audience to also explore a different emotion or meaning. By translating the act of homosex less blatantly, similarly, West is allowing the reader to see the poem “Honest I Want To Die” (Knox 4) to be about the changes that come through life, “Let me remind all the lovely and beautiful times we had” (West 4), not purely a homosexual relationship. This allows the poem to breathe because the reader can’t view it from only one side.

Of course, neither translator, clearly takes a side on this issue. In “Honest I Want To Die” (Knox 4), for instance, West translates “On soft couches… tender… you assuaged your longing” (West 4), a clear translation of the lesbian sex about which Sappho was writing. That is to say, I’m not curious about which translator leans towards Sappho’s feminine side and which to her gender-neutral side, but rather the importance of making this decision as the translator. The act of the translator is difficult because he or she (ironically, in this case, both he’s) must twist out the meaning that seems most fit.

Reading both translations, it is apparent that a female lens and gender-neutral poetic lens must be used by the audience. The translator must translate in one way or another, but the audience must do the work of interpreting both possible outlooks and contemplating the issue on their own. For this reason, it is important to read multiple texts to observe what may have been originally “meant.” In Sappho’s writing, it’s obviously important, but it is also important across all writing because there is no telling what the author intended. As is the view of many current critics, all I can do as the reader is look at both texts and make up my mind on what I will take away from them.

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Holy Holy Holy Power: Genesis

God takes two roles in Genesis: He who promotes humankind and He who protects Himself. Beginning in the Garden of Eden and continuing through the Flood and the Tower of Babel, God diminishes human strength sometimes, while other times -- during the act of creation or in His treatment of Abraham -- He strengthens humans. The dichotomy between the two characters on is created by His deep narcissism and His fear of human knowledge, which brings into question His power, suggesting humans can overcome God.

God promotes humankind first by the act of creating Adam and giving Him all He can desire, “The Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east and placed there the man whom He had formed” (JPS 2.8). However, this act is motivated by narcissism, “God created man in His image” (JPS 1.27). The only being in the Universe which God desires to bestow with success is His likeness, “God said to them, ‘Be fertile and increase, fill the earth and master it’” (JPS 1.28). Later, He is motivated similarly when He is benevolent in His treatment of mankind. Abraham experiences God’s benevolence often, “Your very own issue shall be your heir” (JPS 15.4), not because God doles out favors often, but because Abraham is abiding to the image that God desires, obeying as God wishes. Therefore, from the beginning God doesn’t truly want to see any success in another being, but rather to create success through which He can live vicariously.

God, however, doesn’t love His image as much as Himself. This can be seen through the way in which He breaks down humanity when they begin to approach a greater level. Eve begins this ascent when she eats the forbidden fruit, forbidden because “as soon as you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like divine beings who know good and bad” (JPS 3.4). Consequently, God sees Eve reaching for a more divine state and punishes her, “God banished Him from the garden of Eden” (JPS 3.23), because He doesn’t want His likeness as beautiful as Himself. The ascent of man to higher knowledge continues at the Tower of Babel, “a tower with its top in the sky” (JPS 11.4), built because humans have achieved a new collective knowledge, “Everyone on earth had the same language” (JPS 11.4). God punishes humanity for their leap because He is afraid of them attaining a strength nearer to His own, “If, as one people with one language for all, this is how they have begun to act, then nothing that they may propose to do will be out of their reach” (JPS 11.6).

God wants success in His image, but too much success leads to His wrath. He is enraged by the hubris that comes with the attainment of knowledge, “Now that man has become like one of us, knowing good and bad, what if He should stretch out His hand and take also from the tree of life” (JPS 3.22). God sees hubris unyoked as dangerous to His sovereignty: Eve could reach for the tree of life, like a divine being; the people of Babel can attain anything. God rewards humans, who act to strengthen Him, like Abraham, and He contemplates often before punishing sinners, “‘What if ten should be found [in Sodom]?’ And He answered, ‘I will not destroy, for the sake of ten.’” (JPS 18.32), but He is less lenient with the acquisition of knowledge because it endangers Him. His cruelty towards those who learn comes from His realization of the power of knowledge. God realizes He can, in His complete power, create something that can paradoxically destroy His complete power.

In modern times, it appears God has lost this battle seen in the beginning of genesis. As humankind has gained more knowledge in science, mathematics, and philosophy, it has gradually lost its religious roots. With knowledge, the inherent nature of God is seen, making humankind powerful enough to defeat God, a defeat achieved through questioning His existence. The dichotomy of God comes from His desire to see Himself and foster growth in His likeness, humans, but His foresight to see that their instinct to learn will kill him. God is dead in the twenty-first century  because He allowed His love for Himself to distract from His upkeep of human ignorance.

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Protagoplot and the Epic of Gilgamesh

The Epic of Gilgamesh is the story of the eponymous demigod’s transformation from a haughty, strong, and foolish king, “In the enclosure of Uruk… This was the people’s shepard” (Foster 5), to a sage and revered leader, who understands the value of a life well lived, “Go up, Ur-Shanabi… Three and a half square miles is the measure of Uruk!” (Foster 95). All aspects of the story, especially characters, are based around this transformation, which shows the power of Gilgamesh’s kingdom. The epic also praises Gilgamesh’s great feats and seems to autobiographical or semi-autobiographical. These aspects of Gilgamesh show the strength and power of the hero and his empire above much else. For this reason, Gilgamesh was likely not just an epic, but a piece of propaganda used by his empire in Uruk, Mesopotamia, to instil fear and reverence in the people.

In many stories, characters and events have their own roles that intersect with that of the protagonist, together creating one plotline. In Gilgamesh, characters don’t merely intersect with the hero, their entire purpose is to promote his transformation to a mighty king. The supporting characters’ lives are nonexistent outside of this role. Enkidu, for instance, isn’t a character unto himself, he is an aid to Gilgamesh: his creation was to change Gilgamesh, “When Aruru heard [of Gilgamesh’s wild ways]… She created valiant Enkidu” (Foster 6); he assists Gilgamesh in his deeds, such as the killing of Humbaba, “Strike him again, then kill his retinue [Enkidu said to Gilgamesh]” (Foster 45); and in he is sentenced to death by the gods to make Gilgamesh wander the steppe in fear of the same fate, “Am I not like Enkidu… I have grown afraid of death, so I wander the steppe… Towards Utnapishtim” (Foster 66). The same point is true for all other characters, as well: Shamhat’s purpose is to transform Enkidu for Gilgamesh, “When he sees her, he will approach her. His beasts that grew up with him on the steppe will deny him” (Foster 7); Utnapishtim’s role is to teach Gilgamesh sage ways, “I will reveal to you, O Gilgamesh, a secret matter” (Foster 85); and the gods bend events to create Gilgamesh’s journey, such as Shamash helping Gilgamesh in his fight against Humbaba, “Shamash raised the great winds against Humbaba” (Foster 40). The characters of Gilgamesh, most notably Enkidu, have the sole purpose as tools in promoting Gilgamesh's transformation, suggesting that the transformation of the leader has such importance that all other lives, even those of gods, are dedicated solely to him.

The epic begins by reminding the audience why Gilgamesh matters, “He who saw the wellspring… The God of Wisdom brought his stature to perfection” (Foster 3-5), showing how Gilgamesh transformed Mesopotamian history for the better. Immediately, Gilgamesh sets itself up as a historical document. However, it’s not an impartial document. Tablet I shows Gilgamesh, or the writers whom he commanded as king, may have written the epic themselves after his quest, “From a distant journey came home… Engraved all his hardships on a monument of stone… Take up and read the lapis tablet” (Foster 3). They would have told this story not truthfully, but in the way which benefitted their goal of attaining a strong, ramparted empire.

Gilgamesh is a document that commands respect to a king in the moment and throughout all of time to come, written by a king who is known to be power hungry and obsessed with immortality. It is also written only with regards only to Gilgamesh himself, all other characters, even gods, are merely pawns in his great transformation. These things together suggest that Gilgamesh wasn’t meant as a story to entertain the elite with quaint anecdotes including fancy mathematics, “His stride was six times twelve cubits” (Foster 5), but rather as a piece of propaganda to keep the elite in reverence to their empire and afraid of rebelling against it. Though Gilgamesh deserves its place in literary history, its place in political history must be acknowledged, as well.