The One Where We Learn Not To Pee Towards The Sun

To be frank, I found most of the content about Pythagoras to be exceptionally ho-hum. Something something numbers something something transitive souls. However, I did find something supremely thought provoking in the fact that Pythagoras wrote basically nothing himself and almost everything we know about what he said and believed is second-hand.

This got me thinking about historical narratives of figures whose legacies were made by others. Pythagoras’ teachings were largely spread by the groups, the mathematikoi and akousmatikoi, that came together after his death and then other philosophers after that, like Aristotle and Plato. This seems like a game of telephone, in which one’s original message gets lost and morphed in translation, except over generations and distances. So in reality it seems widely accepted that there are a great deal of things attributed to Pythagoras that are actually just a product of misattribution and projection. As the Stanford web article points out, the fact that none of these sources are contemporary and most contradict each other doesn’t help matters either. In the study of ancient and classical history, this is so very confounding. This is a case study in how unreliable sources can be. One must take classical sources, even champs like Herodotus or Aristotle, with a healthy dose of incredulity. Writers using the unreliable narrator trope before it was even cool.

The One With “The Fiction of Our Fathers”

I like Xenophanes. I like a guy that can boldly question the established religious systems of his time. I myself, having transitioned throughout my life from Christian, to agnostic, to atheist, identify with this. Sure we didn’t end up at the same thought, but Xenophanes suggests an alternative to what he had, presumably, learned growing up regarding the gods and the cosmos. One can imagine little Xenophanes with his parents in the temple learning about Zeus and his adventures and one might wonder what led him to question the theological facts of his time. Was his theological journey of belief similar to mine? How much of a difference does two thousand years make to the mind of a curious, questioning child?

One bit of the reading that stuck out to me was the point that if other animals like horses or oxen had the means to do so, they would draw and imagine a god that was a horse/ox in their image (Curd 34). This is something that has bothered me for a long time. The anthropocentric view imposed upon gods by most religions is nonsensical. The Greeks imagined and depicted Zeus as humanoid (when he isn’t otherwise occupied turning into an eagle and raping women). Many modern Christian depictions of God are of a humanoid guy with a robe, flowing white beard, and a fierce browline. The Bible says that God created man in his image. But why? Why do humans consider themselves so special? With every other form of life known to man, humans still have a complex with being unique and chosen. The fact that a random philosopher from thousands of years ago was asking the same questions is curious. The fact that it is still an issue is curiouser still.

The One Where Sappho Subverts The Patriarchy: You Go Girl

Sappho seems to have been an intriguing figure. Early into her bio the author mentions that she was of significant wealth, which led to leisure time, which led to her poetry. This is a common theme throughout history. The leading thinkers, writers, and historians were often fairly well off. This makes a certain amount of sense as one might not expect the common Joe Schmoe laborer to have the means, free time, and education to produce such a magnum opus. From this, one would expect that this prejudice in who is writing would influence the narrative of history, producing gaps and “silences” of the “others”. While the sampling of Sappho’s poetry which we read was lovely, it is equally intriguing to me what another woman of lower status would have written about the nature of love and beauty and how it might differ from a woman of leisure’s perspective.

Homosexuality in Ancient Greece isn’t an alien concept, however I almost exclusively think of male homosexuality in the Greek context. The presence of female homosexuality is intriguing. How socially acceptable was female homosexuality in the context of the time and place. Did it have the same basic fundamentals as male homosexuality with an older, experienced individual along with a younger individual assuming a more passive role? Was this limited to Lesbos or was female homosexuality more widely prevalent? Did this affect Sappho’s reception as a poet, whether positively or negatively? It brings up a lot of interesting questions.

The One Where No One Should Ever Say "Moist Things"

These philosophers were an interesting read. When they discuss things that would now be considered more in the realm of a natural science like physics, they often sound primitive. But that’s a simple judgement to make when speaking as a modern, educated individual two-thousand plus years later. One can only imagine what those who come thousands of years after us may think of our “modern science”. With this in mind, placing oneself in the mindset and time of these philosophers, the conclusions that they come to are actually very impressive. If I was starting from scratch with little to no prior knowledge of the natural world, I would like to think that I’m clever enough to think of theories like the aer which “gives rise to the other things in the cosmos” (Curd 19) or the foundational nature of water in regards to "moist things" (Curd 15), but in actuality those fundamental questions would not even come to my mind. The inquisitive nature of these early philosophers is, to me, their most interesting quality. Looking past their answers to the questions they pose, the very fact that they think to ask them is astounding.

The most interesting facet of the reading, which spoke to the historian in me, was the fact that the pseudo-historian (and I say that with love) of the time/region, Apollodorus, calculated a man’s date of birth from his “acme”, or greatest achievement, assuming he was forty at that time (Curd 13). As with most sources, particularly those coming from the classical period and before, one must be wary of their reliability in dating, but this in particular struck me as so odd. Not only does Apollodorus’ method seem to be not in the least bit sensible or scientific, but it also seems utterly random. Why would one assume that forty was the ripe age for achieving great things? Does this reflect something about the region/time, when individuals generally became active in public life, etc.? Or perhaps it just reflects a certain laziness or attempt at uniformity? Whatever the reason it kind of makes me twitch.

The One Where Zach Starts A Blog

Hello interwebs, this is your captain speaking.

This is a blog concerning the topics presented in my Classical Philosophy class at Baylor University. As such it will be responses to the material as prescribed by Dr. Anne-Marie Schultz. My majors are history and anthropology so I don't consider myself very well versed in the technicalities of philosophy and all that. I do however look forward to the content of the course and the opportunity to engage in a more interactive, less traditional style class structure.

Why the repulsively odd and vaguely presumptuous title you ask? Because I think I'm far more clever and witty than I actually am. And what's a blog about ancient thinkers without a dash of irony, right? Right.

A bit about me: I’ll be graduating in December so the real world is getting a bit too close for comfort. I’m in Sing Alliance at Baylor, which is one of the best things I’ve done, despite my terrible lack of coordination and dance ability. In addition to school and everything else I have a full time job. As a result, my philosophizing will undoubtedly be more last minute and redbull-induced than I would like. But one does what one must.

Unfortunately, I am unable to properly engage with the material as my books are currently in the mail (thanks, Amazon). So I’ll keep this entry woefully inadequate and make up for it later.

Looking forward to a wonderful semester of blogging for all the world (hey, Mom), but mostly just my professor and TA, to see.