Someplace New
Oct 31, 2005 5:10:47 GMT
Post by Deleted on Oct 31, 2005 5:10:47 GMT
Stretching arms grasped far into the sky, reaching for the clouds. Not quite grabbing hold of one, they held their position in the air for a moment before falling slowly down to the ground. Slender, bronzen hands grasped the farthest blades of grass they could. Exhaling slowly, the owner brought her chest lower to the ground before sitting upright again. She grabbed a book that was sitting to her left and continued reading where she left off.
[glow=teal,2,300]Socrates (470 - 399 BC) is possibly the most enigmatic figure in the entire history of philosophy. He never wrote a single line. Yet he is one of the philosophers who has had the greatest influence on European thought, not least because of the dramatic manner of his death.
We know he was born in Athens, and that he spent most of his life in the city squares and marketplaces talking with the people he met there. "The trees in the countryside can teach me nothing," he said. He could also stand lost in thought for hours on end.
Even during his lifetime he was considered somewhat enigmatic, and fairly soon after his death he was held to be the founder of any number of different philisophical schools of thought. The very fact that he was so enigmatic and ambiguous made it possible for widely differing schools of thought to claim him as their own.
We know for a certainty that he was extremely ugly. He was potbellied and had bulging eyes and a snub nose. But inside he was said to be "perfectly delightful". It was also said of him that "You can seek him in the present, you can seek him in the past, but you will never find his equal." Nevertheless he was sentenced to death for his philosopical activities.
The life of Socrates is mainly known to us through the writings of Plato, who was one of his pupils and who became one of the greatest philosophers of all time. Plato wrote a number of Dialogues, or dramatized discussions on philosophy, in which he uses Socrates as his principal character and mouthpiece.
Since Plato is putting his own philosophy in Socrates' mouth, we cannot be sure that the words he speaks in the dialogues were ever actually uttered by him. So it is no easy matter to distinguish between the teachings of Socrates and the philosophy of Plato. Exactly the same problem applies to many other historical persons who left no written accounts. The classic example, of course, is Jesus. We cannot be certain that the "historical" Jesus actually spoke the words that Matthew or Luke ascribed to him. Similarly, what the "historical" Socrates actually said will always be shrouded in mystery.
But who Socrates "really" was is relatively unimportant. It is Plato's portrait of Socrates that has inspired thinkers in the Western world for nearly 2,500 years.[/glow]***((OOC Note: I take NO credit for this bit on Socrates; it is an excerpt from a book called Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder.))***
She picked a random spot to stop reading, stuck a blade of grass in as a bookmark, and shut the book. This was the third time she'd read this book; it's always good to review what you've learned.
She quickly jumped up to her feet and shook each of her legs; she'd been sitting in the splits for at least a half hour as she read and relaxed from her day's journey. She pulled out her map from her bag.
"Let's take a looksy. Where to next?"
She traced her path she'd taken since she left home. She'd traveled further inland throughout the week attempting to find a place devoid of tourists for once, a good place to learn whatever she could learn. And learn it well.
"What's next on the nearest road?" she asked aloud to nobody in particular. "This looks like a promising city," she decided after examining what was next on the map and reading the brief description of the city. "It's not so vastly far from home, but far away enough from all the honeymooners."
She put her map and book back in the duffel bag and headed back to the road, which was a few yards off to the right of where she'd been resting.
Upon arriving in the town she headed directly for the nearest sandwich shop. She looked briefly through the menu and settled on the most expensive item, not even looking at what it was. Her logic: the more expensive, the more the food, right? She had brought plenty of money with her from home: that which she earned herself and several donations from various relatives wishing her good luck in her "studies abroad." Her food arrived in timely fashion, though it's desired proportions did not. She stared down at her plate which housed half an open-face sandwich with meat of some sort and one slice of cheese. Though disappointed, her ever-increasing hunger got the better of her and she devoured the measly thing before the waiter had even walked away from her table. He stared on in amazement.
"Uh... um... can't I get you.. anything else? Miss?" he struggled to keep his eyes from traveling south.
I know what he's thinking.. hormonal male!
She furrowed her brow slightly, but smiled and responded that she'd like two of whatever the special for the day was. The waiter stared a moment longer.
"Two specials!" she snapped.
The waiter jumped slightly and stammered a quiet "sorry," wrote down her order, and scurried off.
She gave an exasperated sigh and rested her chin in her hands on the table top. Men are bizarre creatures, with or without the aid of aphrodisiacs. But she had learned many years ago how to ward them off if she wanted to; she just had a way with it.
The waiter returned with her two daily specials and an ice cream sundae.
"I didn't order this ice cream, sir."
"Shh.. it's on me. Babe."
"Aww, why thank you..."
The waiter walked away disgruntled and with a cherry between his lips and chocolte fudge and vanilla ice cream smeared across his face. Trying to keep her laughter down, she quickly ate her food in three minutes and left a large tip to make up for literally creaming her waiter's face.
"It's been fun," she winked at him as the bell on the door jingled as she walked out.
Haha, poor guy. At least he'll have a story to tell his buddies after his shift's over.
She grabbed a free city brochure from a sidewalk newspaper stand and plopped down onto a bench to examine it.
Hmm, this looks interesting. I think I'll check it out.
She crossed the city, avoiding a few grumpy taxi drivers, and stopping every once in a while to smile at a child playing. She missed her little siblings and cousins back home. She made a mental note to send them each a cool postcard or something to show off to their little friends. She continued on her way and, after asking directions from a few locals, was able to find her way to her selected destination found via brochure.
She sized up the building and its surroundings. "Toyama Ryu Dojo" the sign read.
"This looks like the first decent place I've seen so far. I hope it really is better than the rest. That one guy said he'd heard it was the best he's seen. But I guess it depends on what he's seen, eh? Why do I always talk to myself like this??"
She shook her head and went up to the door. She opened it and looked around.
"Hello?"
[glow=teal,2,300]Socrates (470 - 399 BC) is possibly the most enigmatic figure in the entire history of philosophy. He never wrote a single line. Yet he is one of the philosophers who has had the greatest influence on European thought, not least because of the dramatic manner of his death.
We know he was born in Athens, and that he spent most of his life in the city squares and marketplaces talking with the people he met there. "The trees in the countryside can teach me nothing," he said. He could also stand lost in thought for hours on end.
Even during his lifetime he was considered somewhat enigmatic, and fairly soon after his death he was held to be the founder of any number of different philisophical schools of thought. The very fact that he was so enigmatic and ambiguous made it possible for widely differing schools of thought to claim him as their own.
We know for a certainty that he was extremely ugly. He was potbellied and had bulging eyes and a snub nose. But inside he was said to be "perfectly delightful". It was also said of him that "You can seek him in the present, you can seek him in the past, but you will never find his equal." Nevertheless he was sentenced to death for his philosopical activities.
The life of Socrates is mainly known to us through the writings of Plato, who was one of his pupils and who became one of the greatest philosophers of all time. Plato wrote a number of Dialogues, or dramatized discussions on philosophy, in which he uses Socrates as his principal character and mouthpiece.
Since Plato is putting his own philosophy in Socrates' mouth, we cannot be sure that the words he speaks in the dialogues were ever actually uttered by him. So it is no easy matter to distinguish between the teachings of Socrates and the philosophy of Plato. Exactly the same problem applies to many other historical persons who left no written accounts. The classic example, of course, is Jesus. We cannot be certain that the "historical" Jesus actually spoke the words that Matthew or Luke ascribed to him. Similarly, what the "historical" Socrates actually said will always be shrouded in mystery.
But who Socrates "really" was is relatively unimportant. It is Plato's portrait of Socrates that has inspired thinkers in the Western world for nearly 2,500 years.[/glow]***((OOC Note: I take NO credit for this bit on Socrates; it is an excerpt from a book called Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder.))***
She picked a random spot to stop reading, stuck a blade of grass in as a bookmark, and shut the book. This was the third time she'd read this book; it's always good to review what you've learned.
She quickly jumped up to her feet and shook each of her legs; she'd been sitting in the splits for at least a half hour as she read and relaxed from her day's journey. She pulled out her map from her bag.
"Let's take a looksy. Where to next?"
She traced her path she'd taken since she left home. She'd traveled further inland throughout the week attempting to find a place devoid of tourists for once, a good place to learn whatever she could learn. And learn it well.
"What's next on the nearest road?" she asked aloud to nobody in particular. "This looks like a promising city," she decided after examining what was next on the map and reading the brief description of the city. "It's not so vastly far from home, but far away enough from all the honeymooners."
She put her map and book back in the duffel bag and headed back to the road, which was a few yards off to the right of where she'd been resting.
Upon arriving in the town she headed directly for the nearest sandwich shop. She looked briefly through the menu and settled on the most expensive item, not even looking at what it was. Her logic: the more expensive, the more the food, right? She had brought plenty of money with her from home: that which she earned herself and several donations from various relatives wishing her good luck in her "studies abroad." Her food arrived in timely fashion, though it's desired proportions did not. She stared down at her plate which housed half an open-face sandwich with meat of some sort and one slice of cheese. Though disappointed, her ever-increasing hunger got the better of her and she devoured the measly thing before the waiter had even walked away from her table. He stared on in amazement.
"Uh... um... can't I get you.. anything else? Miss?" he struggled to keep his eyes from traveling south.
I know what he's thinking.. hormonal male!
She furrowed her brow slightly, but smiled and responded that she'd like two of whatever the special for the day was. The waiter stared a moment longer.
"Two specials!" she snapped.
The waiter jumped slightly and stammered a quiet "sorry," wrote down her order, and scurried off.
She gave an exasperated sigh and rested her chin in her hands on the table top. Men are bizarre creatures, with or without the aid of aphrodisiacs. But she had learned many years ago how to ward them off if she wanted to; she just had a way with it.
The waiter returned with her two daily specials and an ice cream sundae.
"I didn't order this ice cream, sir."
"Shh.. it's on me. Babe."
"Aww, why thank you..."
The waiter walked away disgruntled and with a cherry between his lips and chocolte fudge and vanilla ice cream smeared across his face. Trying to keep her laughter down, she quickly ate her food in three minutes and left a large tip to make up for literally creaming her waiter's face.
"It's been fun," she winked at him as the bell on the door jingled as she walked out.
Haha, poor guy. At least he'll have a story to tell his buddies after his shift's over.
She grabbed a free city brochure from a sidewalk newspaper stand and plopped down onto a bench to examine it.
Hmm, this looks interesting. I think I'll check it out.
She crossed the city, avoiding a few grumpy taxi drivers, and stopping every once in a while to smile at a child playing. She missed her little siblings and cousins back home. She made a mental note to send them each a cool postcard or something to show off to their little friends. She continued on her way and, after asking directions from a few locals, was able to find her way to her selected destination found via brochure.
She sized up the building and its surroundings. "Toyama Ryu Dojo" the sign read.
"This looks like the first decent place I've seen so far. I hope it really is better than the rest. That one guy said he'd heard it was the best he's seen. But I guess it depends on what he's seen, eh? Why do I always talk to myself like this??"
She shook her head and went up to the door. She opened it and looked around.
"Hello?"