Monthly Archives: September 2013

A fresh look at Greek Philosophy from The Apes of Eden by Jon P. Gunn

Excerpt from The Classicist

Chapter 6 in the Book of Antiquities, The Apes of Eden by Jon P. Gunn

 

All Metaphysics and Theology

arose in Classical Antiquity.

Despite their later imitators’ claim

it was the Greeks from whom these concepts came–

specifically from Aristotle: the

most famous Founder of Philosophy.

All philosophic systems later wrought

were footnotes, nothing more, to Grecian Thought.”

 

“I think,” the ape remarked, “that kind of lore

might be the very thing we’re looking for.

I used to have a Book I tried to bring

from home, explaining just that sort of thing.

I’d have it still–except some pranksters’ tricks

did damage to it that I couldn’t fix.

If you could summarize a theme or two

from Grecian Thought, I’d be obliged to you.”

 

“I wouldn’t mind a bit,” the centaur said,

“and in your Quest you’ll come out far ahead

if you confine your search for wisdom to

the course of study I define for you.

The philosophic field has come to be

a blend of nonsense with absurdity.

Aspiring students have to pick and choose

with utmost care, lest they their minds confuse

with sterile theorizings which engage

all thinkers since the classic Golden Age.

Originators in Philosophy

gave way to those whose object seemed to be

investigating those who, earlier,

reviewed the works of some philosopher

who had composed a critical review

of someone who had written something new

about the valid  science, deep and vast,

originating in the classic past.

With critics criticizing critics, you

can see no useful  work was left to do.

Post-classical philosophy is all

a trap in which unwary students fall

to waste their lives and intellects–unless

they’re wisely warned, and level heads possess.”

“Our goal is Valid Knowledge,” said the Sage,

“and not in Speculation to engage.

If all  the valid thinking has been done

by Greeks, that’s good enough for anyone.”

He found a seat upon a root of oak,

and listened closely, as the centaur spoke.

“The Greeks were first to place the emphasis

on Observation and Analysis,”

the centaur started in.  “By this they laid

the grounds for all the progress later made.

The Greeks were also first successfully

to search for Generalized Validity.

They learned to reach beyond details of fact

and seek conclusions general and abstract.

They gave us Mathematics, as a base

for all the Sciences the biped race

in later ages managed to devise–

for which the ‘Moderns’ deemed themselves so wise.

They gave us Logical Analysis,

on which we place all present emphasis.

Among their many contributions, they

presented, in a systematic way,

their treatments of some basic questions: those

which in still-older times and cultures rose.

“The first of these they chose to emphasize

was ‘That From Which’ existent things arise:

the branch of science called Ontology–

the Basic Nature of Reality.

“In making lists, the classic custom’s been

with Thales of Miletus to begin.

He made his mark as an astronomer,

geometrician and philosopher.

Without appealing to Tradition, he

proposed that Ultimate Reality

was Water.  This he logically inferred

because this basic element occurred

in ample quantities; and, as we know,

without it, not a blade of grass could grow.

The later answers to this question ranged

from ‘Elements,’ which though themselves unchanged

produced in varied combinations those

materials from which Existence rose–

on up through concepts of ‘the Infinite,’

so called because one cannot say that it

is one thing or another.  It alone

can any substance be, from air to stone,

according to its relative degree

of rarefaction or condensity.

It was Anaximander who devised

the concept that ‘the Infinite’ comprised

the Substance of the Universe.  The mind

rejects the notion that some special kind

of matter typifies them all.  He found

it should be unrestricted, have no bound.

By saying matter has no ‘normal’ state

he managed early to anticipate

the view of ‘modern’ chemists, who agree

that ‘everything consists of Energy,’

which we’re familiar in every form

except   its typifying, standard’ norm.’

“But Anaximenes believed that Air

was typical of Substance. Though quite rare

while in its natural state, it also could

be densified to water, fire or wood;

and if compacted into solid blocks

is just as indigestible as rocks.

“He also managed to anticipate

the ‘modern’ theory that a silicate,

subjected to extremes of heat, will then

split into silicon and oxygen.

And oxygen, as surely you’re aware

is the most vital element of air!

“The most ingenious metaphysic was

the observation, by Pythagoras,

that Number must the Basic Substance be,

since every Thing has size and quantity,

and, whether it is moving or at rest,

abides by laws numerically expressed.

Pythagoras was foremost to insist

the Soul and Body separately exist,

and that one’s Soul, at death, will transmigrate

to start life over, in Some Other State.

“The controversy over Permanence

and Change was also much in evidence.

The Eleatic, Zeno, strove to prove

that even speeding arrows cannot move:

At each successive  instant, arrows were

at rest, therefore no motion could occur,

just as no ‘separation’ we define

between adjacent  points along a line.

An object cannot  change position.  First

one-half the distance has to be transversed.

Before that midpoint, it must first attain

one quarter of the distance–but in vain,

for eighth, sixteenth, and thirty-second parts

must first be reached.  So motion never starts–

it wastes its time at points along a line

which is divided ‘infinitely fine.’

“The difficulties in resolving these

conundrums soon engendered tendencies

toward Gnostic Relativity–the view

that nothing’s ever absolutely true.

The Truth as such  can never be removed

from what some clever Sophist claims he’s proved,

so nothing’s known  except to that extent

that we’re convinced of it, by Argument.

“But Socrates turned up in time to give

the Sophists’ view that ‘Truth is Relative’

a well-deserved critique.  The Sophists feel

that nothing much, if anything, is Real.

One aspect of the Knowledge Problem lay

(as Socrates insisted) in the way

the Sophists use the ambiguities

of words to ‘prove’ whatever ‘truths’ they please.

He thought this pointed up the urgent need

for Rules of Rhetoric that all could heed

–some formalized criteria, by which

contestants in debate could make their pitch

and yet not leave unbiased judges with

the vague impression they had proved a myth.

“A precept often stressed by Socrates

(and hardly anybody disagrees)

is Reason’s Duty to examine things,

exempting nothing from our questionings.

‘The unexamined life,’ he always said,

‘need not be lived; one might as well be dead.’

He also stipulated: ‘Questioning

must be constructive–not the sort of thing

that undermines an honest point of view

without replacing it with something new.’

“Since Reasoning Ability is viewed

as Humankind’s Distinctive Aptitude,

and since it is incumbent on a man

to make himself as human  as he can,

Morality–so Socrates opined–

is using and developing the Mind.

“This train of logic leads us to suspect

that Virtue’s locus is the Intellect.

The essence of one’s Virtue therefore lies

between the ears and just behind the eyes.

To that extent that human being lack

Sound Judgment, are their moral standards slack.

The disadvantages  of evil were

the damage done to one’s own character.

No normal person voluntarily

elects to do himself an injury–

the problem is, we don’t all realize

exactly where our best self-interest lies.

We therefore many evil choices make

despite  self-interest, simply by mistake!

If malefactors only knew  this fact

they’d have the sense to think before they act.

“No axiologist since Socrates

has solved the Values Issue with such ease;

yet ‘moderns’ now refuse to recognize

that evil deeds from Ignorance arise.

Dismissing Socrates as ‘out of date,’

they fudge, and theorize, and obfuscate,

too stubborn to admit the issue’s solved

and Error is the only thing involved.

“In Socrates and in his followers

we meet those eminent philosophers

of long-enduring, well-deserved repute

whose basic contributions constitute

the main traditions in the history

of Western science and philosophy.

In Plato’s The Republic  he relates

the salient features of Ideal States,

where measures will be taken to insure

for every citizen a lineage pure,

and equal opportunity for all

to find a social niche, then rise or fall

according to one’s own abilities–

one’s aptitudes and fallibilities.

Prospective statesmen who perform the best

on Euclid’s books (by some objective test)

advance, because this talent we equate

with that required to run Affairs of State.

By this selective process, judges find

and elevate the Philosophic Mind.

The truly qualified will never stop

advancing till they make it to the Top:

that is, the Council of the Truly Wise

who would the central government comprise.

Those few who understand the True and Good

receive the posts an Archimedes should,

and higher concepts learn of Deity

in place of popular mythology.

“In Plato’s scheme, an indolent buffoon

needs more endowments than a silver spoon.

If necessary, to eliminate

all nepotistic tendencies, the State

will overrule the Family, taking charge

of offspring, who’ll be raised as ‘kids at large,’

eliminating, to a great extent,

the Last Resort of the Incompetent–

a doting father who, besides a Name,

supplies the bribes to pave his way to fame.

Is it not strange to note, since Plato died,

not once  has his ingenious plan been tried!

“Few intellects by later ages hatched

have Aristotle’s Analytics  matched

for thoroughly-objective and exact

analysis of scientific fact.

His books were much consulted, first by peers

and then Scholastics, for two thousand years.

“In brief, as any Sophomore can see,

the Golden Age of Greek Philosophy

had kicked all questions thoroughly around

and every possible Solution found.

No new addition to these crowded shelves

can add to what the Greeks devised themselves.

“And so,” the centaur summarized, “you see

that in the study of Philosophy,

the careful student must avoid the snares

of everything since Aristotle.  There’s

a Labyrinth awaiting, like the Pit,

and nothing gained by getting lost in it,

for those who venture past the Golden Age

of Grecian Thought, by even half a page. . .

 

“And now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe

since Dusk approaches, both of us should leave.

If we delay, we’re apt to meet with more

‘fair game’–like that atrocious minotaur.

My life’s not charmed, and I’m afraid I might

be still less fortunate, unarmed, by night.”

The centaur heaved the Carcass to his back,

and turned to face along the forest track.

With one last word of thanks for all the good

the Sage had done, he set off through the wood.

 

The Sage sat thinking, making mental note

of headings for a book he later wrote,

until he, also, apprehensive grew

at pending dusk, and prudently withdrew.

 

 

Apes of Eden – Antiquities – Preview

Click on: The Apes of Eden Preview

iCrew Digital Productions is proud to announce that it is publishing The Apes of Eden by Jon P. Gunn in October.  The  Adobe Acrobat file below contains Book 1 of The Apes of Eden Saga.  The Journey Begins will contain the first three.  It is a different type of read from what you are used to.  If you don’t catch on to it, that’s not a problem.  If you do, let me know.  I am thinking and hoping that this book is special.  I have had the manuscript for nearly thirty years.  

Let me know what you think and pass it on if you know someone interested.

The Apes of Eden Preview

Literate Louie   literatelouie@gmail.com

The Scribe of the Tribe

 

 

Antiquities – The Fall

 

 

THE FALL

 

The Tribe emerged from Eden, and progressed

the way we found our noses pointed: west.

As long as we remained within clear view

of Eden’s borders, novelties were few.

The landscape looked familiar.  The terrain

was much like Eden’s vegetated plain,

though less luxuriant.  The shrubs and trees

were less diverse in their varieties.

Though food was not abundant, it was still

sufficient.  Day by day we found our fill.

We prowled around a while, a month or so,

then asked our Sage which way we ought to go.

Of that he wasn’t certain.  When he sought

suggestions from the magic Scroll he’d brought,

he found that tribal wags, with peerless wit,

had rolled Repugnant Matter up in it.

We’d known he had a flair for words.  Now he

displayed a talent for profanity.

With grinning innocence, we heard the Sage

describe our natures, in a mighty rage.

He ruled the book a total loss, and just

discarded it in anger and disgust.

Since all he knew had come from it alone,

he found himself completely on his own.

He pondered, scratched his head, and looked depressed.

Perhaps, he thought, our Goal lay somewhere west;

because, you see, one fact was clear at least:

we’d just retrace our tracks by heading east.

The Tribe set forth, with aspirations high.

We made brave pledges: We’d succeed or die.

Progressing west, we saw the landscape change

to rolling hills, and then a mountain range.

Behind us in the distance, Eden’s wall

had disappeared, concealed by forests tall

–or so the ancient chroniclers aver.

(A statement by the Gateman, earlier,

suggests an alternate hypothesis;

so which is less unlikely–that or this?)

 

Unwelcome facts emerged, before too long:

Outside our home, the world’s constructed wrong.

The trees and berry bushes sprouted thorns,

and wildlife made good use of claws and horns.

These things perplexed us.  Inside Eden’s wall

we’d had no natural enemies at all.

The wolves and tigers there ate grass, like deer,

but predators had coarser tastes, out here:

they hunted apes.

Quick rivals grabbed the shoots

we most preferred.  We had to chew on roots

or anything we found.  We raised the question

whether roughage might upset digestion–

whether we were best advised to go

back home.  A lot of us decided so;

and then when frost appeared, one chilly day,

these malcontents rebelled, and trooped away.

Presumably the fainthearts fled back east,

on Eden’s bounty once again to feast

–to sell their souls for Luxury, and spurn

the tribal glory we would someday earn.

Our leader called the Tribe in council, then

(or what was left of it).  He spoke again

of Pithecanic Destiny and such.

Our current woes, he said, were nothing much.

“Too long in useless indolence we dwelled!

Our lives have Purpose now!  If we’re compelled

to do without without our favorite nuts and grapes,

we’ll take such things in stride! Are we not Apes?”

And all the Tribe in answer bravely roared,

“We’ll be an indefatigable horde,

who’ll march forever, if we must, in quest

of Values of the noblest and the best!”

 

The Tribe thrust deeper into wilderness.

The bounty of the land grew less and less.

Each day we barely found enough, and then

sheer lack of forage drove us on again.

We weren’t impelled by lack of food alone;

our curiosity to see the world had grown.

Astonished by the landscape’s sheer extent,

we wanted, now, to see how far it went.

We learned to cope with Predators in ways

unknown before.  We found that Teamwork pays.

An ape who went to forage on his own,

could not contend with hungry of wolves alone;

but if we stuck together, five or six

of us could fight them off, by swinging sticks.

We forged ahead, to search the rocky holes

of some great Canyon, for our formless goals,

till real scarcities had changed our mood.

Thereafter, all  our searching was for food.

The hardships of our Quest were hard to know

ahead of time.  We next encountered Snow.

Our teeth began to chatter–then our bones.

Our feet and fingers grew as numb as stones.

As life’s necessities concerned us more

we gave less thought to what we’d come here foe

—whatever that was.

Many drifted back

in hopes repatriation rules were slack.

It’s doubtful that they got to Eden, though.

The archives say they would have had to go

past restless Glaciers which had blocked our way

back east.  We evidently had to stay.

We tried to reach the canyons further end,

but first we had the winter months to spend:

The Avalanches, crashing from on high

impressed us as a chilly way to die.

With both the exits choked with snow and ice,

we tried to scale the ridges, once or twice.

Our mountain climbers started through the snow.

An icy canyon wind began to blow.

Acclimatized, throughout recorded time

to Eden’s kindly, undemanding clime,

they weren’t conditioned to that sort of thing.

We found their frozen corpses in the spring.

We spent that winter in the canyon’s end,

and hoped spring thaws our confines would extend.

 

Since all of us were hungry as a shark,

we crunched on seeds, and gnawed on strips of bark

and other things we never would have known

were food for any race, much less our own.

We’ve always been a fast-adapting breed,

especially in times of pressing need.

Since herbivores must bear the famine’s brunt,

we modified our tastes, and learned to hunt,

and changed our diet readily enough–

although our first techniques were rude and rough.

We hounded game till it was out of breath,

then inhumanely cudgeled it to death.

We seldom caught enough.  An “‘om.ni.vore”

is “one who eats all foods” –then looks for more.

The tripe and gristle, giblets, fat and brain

were chewed on for the protein they contain.

Nor did we give up hunting in the spring;

we went on eating nearly everything.

The only difference was, when famine ceased,

our appetites accordingly increased.

Necessity had taught us first the way

–and then the attitudes–of beasts of prey.

We weren’t unique.  Voracious beasts would lurk,

all fur and fangs, in snowbound woodland murk;

and often some enormous, hairy shape

could with a single bite behead an ape

clear to his waist.  Mere sticks did not suffice,

rebounding from a skull as hard as ice.

We met some predatory breeds of Men

who stalked in frozen gully, glade and glen

and seemed to think they had a better right

to use these hunting grounds.  We had to fight

not only for the privilege to compete

for food, but lest we, too, be killed for meat.

These humans weren’t the Basic Species.  There

were shaggy Bigfoots, who could crush a bear

with grim embrace; and crossbow-shooting Gnomes

whose whiskers brushed their boots, who made their homes

in excavated mountain caves.  One more

part-human species was the Minotaur:

the stupidest of human breeds, but quite

impractical to hunt.  In hulk and height

they were a match for Bigfoots.  Basically

they had the figures of humanity,

except that to their shoulders was attached

a longhorn cattle head, which hardly matched.

Despite their bovine teeth, they didn’t eat

the pasturage, but lived on fresh-killed meat.

One scribe’s description, which survives till now,

says minotaurs had tails, just like a cow.

 

Since competition was ferocious, we

were forced to use our ingenuity;

and new inventions started to appear:

the Axe, the Tomahawk, the stone-tipped Spear.

With better tools, we dealt more deadly blows.

We blared on sheep horns, to out-roar our foes.

Inventors may take credit, if they please,

but no invention brought us lives of ease.

When better weapons made the sport too tame,

we found excuse to tackle bigger game.

By promptly rising to emergencies

was Ape emancipated from the trees.

He then, with no external change of shape,

evolved from Happy Dunce to

Killer Ape,

with spring-steel sinews, tiger-throttling paws,

and fangs to match his famine-toughened jaws;

with twice the courage of a bear, and wile

surpassing that of snake and crocodile;

with eyes as keen in darkness as in light,

and ears that plucked a whisper from the night:

a match for any predator alive–

a winner in the Struggle to Survive!

Our lives were full of hunger, strife and grime,

and Eden buried in the trash of time.

 

Excerpt – Prologue and Invocation

 

My present goal is briefly to describe

the mighty deeds of Eden’s famous Tribe

from high antiquity to modern times

in lucid, readable Heroic Rhymes

that nearly any member of our band

with brains between his ears, can understand.

 

Permit me, first, a word on scribal Style:

Traditions have been fixed for quite a while;

and I shall follow them, however it

displeases readers lacking taste and wit.

I write as Eden’s classic authors wrote.

Wherever possible, I try to quote

their golden iambs.  Thus should every  scribe

of Eden keep the records of the Tribe.

All tastes are not alike, I realize.

I nonetheless decline to compromise!

What compromise is possible?  One type

of reader savors Art, the other, tripe.

There is no tepid “Middle Way” to go.

Like death, or pregnancy, it’s Yes or No–

You’ll either be enraptured by the terse,

majestic cadence of Heroic Verse

or else it drives you screaming up the wall.

There seems to be no neutral  ground at all.

I don’t expect my work to go to waste.

We have, among us, apes of cultured taste:

the Literate Elite.  I write for those.

Let lowbrows read some Scribbler’s dreary prose.

 

This book will fill some long-felt needs.  For one,

our present tribal Archives weigh a ton.

The custom of inscribing all our lore

on chiseled slabs of stone, as heretofore,

has meant that history has put on weight

beyond my competence to estimate–

much less to carry.  Nor have volunteers

come forth to share this load I’ve borne for years

through prairies, mountains, deserts, swamps and sloughs

as Eden’s Tribe it’s holy Quest pursues.

A sedentary race of stay-at-homes

is justified in storing weighty tomes,

but apes who have our quest-pursuing bent

with lighter reading ought to be content.

 

The land through which we travel now is rife

with deadly hazards to one’s health and life:

explosive gas from smoking fumeroles,

and dragons darting out of clefts and holes,

and winged snakes, concealed in clouds of gray

volcano smoke, to pounce upon their prey.

It’s difficult for someone to compete

unless he’s quick and agile on his feet,

and not encumbered by a heavy sack

of Literary Treasures on his back.

And if the harsh, relentless truth be told,

I’m past  my prime of life: I’m getting old.

A lighter load would be a boon to me.

I’m not as nimble as I used to be.

Besides, too many “documents” we keep

are uninformative–a cumbrous heap

of sherds and fragments which cannot be read;

or commentaries, made by scribes long dead,

on writings which were subsequently lost

among the swamps and deserts we have crossed;

or whopping tales the ancient used to weave,

which now not even gaffers can believe

or myths our Senior Tribesmen have themselves

devised–of goblins, pixies, spooks and elves–

which scribes with little talent of their own

as chroniclers, immortalized in stone.

We have some archives which exist in three

or four editions, none of which agree.

Least valuable of all our books are those

in cryptic tongues no living tribesman knows.

Be sensible: Do antiquaries need

archaic texts which none of us can read?

There’s too much trash  the Tribe of Eden owns

of which in vain we ask: What Mean These Stones?

 

The monsters we contend with, day by day,

have proven helpful, in a passive way.

The fuming pits abounding in this land

provide the chemicals with which I’ve tanned

the dragon-leather which, if bleached, makes quite

a choice material on which to write.

One modest credit more: I’m first to think

of using dragons’ soot-black blood for ink.

If all goes well, I shall present the whole

of Eden’s history on one small scroll,

in style and portability improved,

with errors and obscurities removed–

a text which may an inspiration be

to apes, throughout our future destiny,

instead of merely stirring up dissent

by giving quibblers grounds for argument.

In place of many clashing texts, I give

you one, coherent and definitive!

No “food for thought” is lost.  I promise that.

I save the meat, although I trim the fat.

 

For this first time in many days, the view

is relatively peaceful–with a few

small winged serpents soaring in the night;

but not a single Dragon is in sight.

I’ll seize this priceless opportunity

to finish editing my History

before another troupe of monsters choose

to interrupt me.  Let’s get started, Muse!

 

Literate Louie

Scribe of the Tribe

December, 19067

 

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