I will say though that critical readings work very well for answering other sorts of questions. For instance, Isaiah very likely has writing from different people, perhaps part of a single "school." Ezekiel, by contrast, is very likely the work of a single man with minimal editing.

Your erudition is impressive. Are you a priest?

My take on the Book of Revelation:

This sort of analysis of I & II Samuel has fallen into disrepute, because of both the unity of style and dramatic elements use throughout the books of Samuel and because, if these stories are supposed to be "propaganda," they are pretty terrible at that role. The entire second half of the David story is a tragedy, one where David's shortcomings play the key role. Things like the literary echo of David, as a now feeble old man being confused by the sound of conflict outside during the coup attempt at the start of I Kings, as recalling/echoing the situation of the priest Eli at the opening of I Samuel, seems hardly the incidental work of "splicing propaganda narratives." — Count Timothy von Icarus

And deservedly so. Samuel is a rich text. It was originally one book. An unflinching look at David, for sure. If I had to pick a couple texts that could be closer to "propaganda" I would maybe say Joshua and perhaps 1 & 2 Maccabees. Still I hate that label "propaganda" because these texts are more complicated than that; still, when we compare Joshua to our knowledge of that period something's gotta bend. I do tend to be more on the historical-critical side of things but I do try to remain open to other methods. Conservative Judaism is more open to modern scholarship, while Orthodox Judaism is much more skeptical of the historical-critical approach and relies more on its own tradition.

Are you assuming that God exists?
— Janus

No, I am not. Fictional entities have essences, just as much as real entities do.

Because if God is merely a human idea, something imaginary, it seems strange to say that it is impossible to understand it.
— Janus

No essence can be understood. — Arcane Sandwich

I'm confused here because you say even fictional entities have essences and then say that no essence can be understood. The first statement seems to suggest that an essence cannot be some intrinsic thing like being because fictional entities have no substantive being beyond what is said or imagined about them, and also what is said or imagined can presumably be understood.

But the idea of an essence as a set of defining or identifying characteristics would also seem to be ruled out because such sets must surely be understandable.

There's nothing incoherent about the idea of a single unique essence. It's called pantheism. Spinoza was a pantheist, unlike Descartes, for example. — Arcane Sandwich

Whether or not Spinoza was a pantheist is a matter of interpretation. An alternative would be to see him as an acosmist. Spinoza held a distinction between 'natura naturata' and 'natura naturans' with the former being the manifest nature we experience via the senses and the latter being something like creative nature or the laws of nature that give rise to manifest nature.

It's possible. Kant didn't believe in intellectual intuition, yet Meillassoux does. In After Finitude, he says: — Arcane Sandwich

Correct, and Hegel tried to reintroduce it. Yet the historicist character of Hegel's thought is not compatible with Spinoza's system of thought.

.

I'm confused here because you say even fictional entities have essences and then say that no essence can be understood. — Janus

Indeed. Not even the essences of fictional entities can be understood. The Being of Spain (Hispanidad), for example, is incomprehensible, even though it's a human construct. There's nothing divine about it. And yet there's a national holiday about it, in several countries, including Argentina. It's called Día de la Hispanidad (Spanishness Day). I don't celebrate it myself. I am not a subject of the Spanish Crown. No Argentine is. Therefore, I am under no obligation to celebrate it. I wasn't born in Spain, I've never even visited Spain. It is a foreign country, from where I'm standing. The fact that I speak the Spanish language (a construct, comparable to Esperanto in that sense, or to common German) means nothing. I speak English as well, and yet that does not make me an Anglo-Saxon.

The first statement seems to suggest that an essence cannot be some intrinsic thing like being because fictional entities have no substantive being beyond what is said or imagined about them, and also what is said or imagined can presumably be understood. — Janus

Peace be with you, friend.

But the idea of an essence as a set of defining or identifying characteristics would also seem to be ruled out because such sets must surely be understandable. — Janus

Nothing to comment here, from me. I neither agree nor disagree with those statements.

Whether or not Spinoza was a pantheist is a matter of interpretation. An alternative would be to see him as an acosmist. Spinoza held a distinction between 'natura naturata' and 'natura naturans' with the former being the manifest nature we experience via the senses and the latter being something like creative nature or the laws of nature that give rise to manifest nature. — Janus

Deleuze says he was an atheist.

It's possible. Kant didn't believe in intellectual intuition, yet Meillassoux does. In After Finitude, he says: — Arcane Sandwich


Correct, and Hegel tried to reintroduce it. Yet the historicist character of Hegel's thought is not compatible with Spinoza's system of thought. — Janus

As far as I'm concerned, Hegel's concept of the Absolute Spirit is the Ultimate Truth about Reality itself. I do not intend that as a polemic. It is simply what I believe.

Speaking of Divinity, we have it that Divine Inspiration is the source for the writing of the two foundational chapters of the Bible, Genesis 1 and Genesis 2, among other of the myriad claims layered upon the hoped-for Supernatural…

As evolution obliterates Eden's immutable human formation, 'Divine Inspiration's claim falls flat.

The Victorians and the rest of the world were shocked when the 'On the Origin of the Species' came out in 1859, quickly followed by the 'Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam'. 'Denial' was the best course of action for the wishers and the believers, as it still is today, somewhat, for church attendance is dropping, even in the once stable northeast.

The June 30, 1860 Showdown:
The Oxford Evolution Debate

The Setting

“Were we descended from some ape-like form?”
The question raised a scientific storm.
A thousand gathered in Oxford’s hall
To watch two worldviews wage their war.

The summer air hung thick with thought
As notables filled every spot,
Some seeking truth, some seeking sport,
In this debate so dearly bought.

The Opening

The Bishop of Oxford took the floor;
Samuel Wilberforce, skilled in verbal war,
His reputation built on wit
That often left opponents sore.

With eloquence he built his case
Against the notion of our race
Descending from some simian stock—
A thought he deemed a deep disgrace.

Then, turning with a practiced smile,
His rhetorical weapons honed with guile,
He fixed young Huxley in his sight
And launched his question, rank with bile:

“Pray tell us, sir, with candor true:
Which side of your family tree grew
The ape connection you so prize—
Grandmother’s branch, or grandfather’s view?”

The Response

Young Huxley, Darwin’s bulldog fierce,
Felt joy to hear attack so pierce—
To neighbor whispered, triumph-blessed,
“The Lord delivers, none can pierce!”

Then rising slow, with measured grace,
He turned to meet the Bishop’s face,
And launched a counterattack so sharp
It left eternal verbal trace:

“I’d rather claim an ape as kin,
Than one who’d use high office’s din
To mock scientific discourse thus—
Such rhetoric’s original sin!

“For truth cares not for social rank,
Nor holy office, purse or bank,
But follows evidence alone
Through paths both beautiful and frank!”

(Actually called it 'twaddle')

The Aftermath

The hall erupted, shock and rage
Competed on this Oxford stage,
As centuries of certain faith
Met Darwin’s revolutionary page.

Some ladies fainted, so they say,
While scholars shouted their dismay,
And through it all, one figure rose
To add more drama to the fray:

The Captain’s Moment

Admiral FitzRoy, who years before
Had captained Darwin ’round each shore,
Now raised his Bible overhead
And cried out from the chamber floor:

“The Book! The Book!” his voice rang clear,
As if to banish every fear
That evolution’s tide might bring—
The very tide he’d helped to steer.

Oh irony of fate’s design!
The man who’d sailed those seas so fine,
Who’d watched young Darwin gather proof,
Now stood against his grand design.

(The ship was named the Beagle)

Speaking of Divinity, we have it that Divine Inspiration is the source for the writing of the two foundational chapters of the Bible, Genesis 1 and Genesis 2, among other of the myriad claims layered upon the hoped-for Supernatural…

As evolution obliterates Eden's immutable human formation, 'Divine Inspiration's claim falls flat.

The Victorians and the rest of the world were shocked when the 'On the Origin of the Species' came out in 1859, quickly followed by the 'Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam'. 'Denial' was the best course of action for the wishers and the believers, as it still is today, somewhat, for church attendance is dropping, even in the once stable northeast. — PoeticUniverse

What happened to all of your "vibes" about the Elfin Queen and all of that "positive" stuff? You sound angry now.

(The ship was named the Beagle) — PoeticUniverse

Sure, I'm a Darwinist myself. Did you know that Gregor Mendel, the Founding Father of genetics, was religious?

You sound angry now. — Arcane Sandwich

I don't do anger; anger has no brains.

more:

The Echo

That Oxford day still echoes now,
Through halls where science makes its bow,
Reminding us how truth must fight
Through prejudice to show us how

Our origins, though humble found,
Need not our dignity confound—
For honest search for nature’s ways
Makes human wisdom more profound.

The Legacy

So let us mark that summer day
When wit met wit in verbal fray,
When Huxley faced the Bishop down
And evolution had its say.

For in that clash of old and new,
Of faith and fact, false views and true,
We see reflected still today
How progress must its path pursue.

And who stood up to wave that Book?
FitzRoy, who gave Darwin his first look
At nature’s laboratory vast—
The captain whom fate overtook.

For history’s threads weave strange designs
When paradigms cross boundary lines,
And those who help new truth emerge
May later wish for older signs.

I don't do anger; anger has no brains. — PoeticUniverse

Salam alaikum, friend.

the Elfin Queen — Arcane Sandwich

Eden's Queen?

God offered Adam a perfect version of woman,
One who would even paint ceilings, cut grass…
But this would have cost Adam an arm and a leg.
So Adam said, ‘What can I get for just a rib?’

God smiled and said, “Well, for economy class,
You’ll get someone who might occasionally pass
The remote, share some pizza, but won’t clean the cave—
And good luck getting her to mow any grass.”

“How about throwing in some basic repairs?”
Adam haggled. “Someone who at least cares
If the fig leaves need mending?” God shook his head:
“That’s the deluxe package—costs way more shares.”

“Could I perhaps get a trial period?”
Asked Adam, while God’s patience slightly showed.
“Three days to test?” “No returns,” God replied,
“And no exchanges once the rib has flowed.”

“But will she at least help tend Eden’s flowers?’
‘She’ll critique your technique for endless hours,
Then plant her own garden exactly her way.”
Adam sighed, watching his bargaining powers.

“Fine,” said Adam, ‘I’ll take what I can get.”
God grinned and said, “You won’t live to regret
This bargain basement deal—for that one rib,
You’ll get more than you know, my safe bet.”

The surgery done, Eve opened her eyes,
Looked at Adam’s bachelor paradise,
Said “This place needs a woman’s touch, my dear.”
And Paradise was never quite as nice.

A.I. art is worthless, friend.

A.I. art is worthless, friend. — Arcane Sandwich

Great AI art:

Great AI art: — PoeticUniverse

An oxymoron. Machines are incapable of creating art, because they are art themselves.

An oxymoron. Machines are incapable of creating art, because they are art themselves. — Arcane Sandwich

more great AI art:

more great AI art: — PoeticUniverse

None of that is art. It may look like art, but it isn't art. When you see a statue, do you think it's a living creature, just because it looks like one?

Nothing to comment here, from me. I neither agree nor disagree with those statements. — Arcane Sandwich

Fair enough.

Deleuze says he was an atheist. — Arcane Sandwich

Yes, and I think that's a fair reading. Spinoza's God is a deistic one. not a personal one either aware of or concerned with its creatures. Spinoza's God also lacks free will, just as we do according to Spinoza. So there is little to distinguish his God from Einstein's conception of nature.

As far as I'm concerned, Hegel's concept of the Absolute Spirit is the Ultimate Truth about Reality itself. I do not intend that as a polemic. It is simply what I believe. — Arcane Sandwich

Whereas Spinoza's God is static and eternal, Hegel's God is evolving along with its creatures. Peirce extended Hegel's idea to posit that even the laws of nature have evolved, having become crystallized due to established habit.

I can't claim to have understood the idea of Absolute Spirit. or the 'end of history'.

None of that is art. It may look like art, but it isn't art. — Arcane Sandwich

Real art:

Real art: — PoeticUniverse

Again, A.I. "art" is not art, just as a statue is not a living creature, even though it looks like one.

I can't claim to have understood the idea of Absolute Spirit. or the 'end of history'. — Janus

Neither can I. I just believe in it.

The Victorians and the rest of the world were shocked when the 'On the Origin of the Species' came out in 1859 — PoeticUniverse

If the misery of our poor be not caused by nature, but by our social institutions, then great is our sin. — Charles Darwin

21
Rescue me from the mouth of the lions;
save me from the horns of the wild oxen. — Psalm 22:1

It's talking about a memory as ancient as the Paleolithic, when everyone was a nomadic hunter-gatherer. This makes it more ancient than anything anyone else has to say. Bring your favorite poets to this discussion, quote Emily D. for all I care. I believe what Pslam 22:1, part 21 says: There was a time when lions were our natural predators, there was a time when the wild oxen could kill us when we were just minding our own business. — Arcane Sandwich


Right! I agree with this perspective. That's part of the awe. — Moliere

In that sense, Plato's cave allegory can be interpreted in a similar way. My personal interpretation is that Plato is almost literally recalling the time when the first men and women started to live like cavemen and cavewomen. Before that, men and women lived out in the open, like the rabbit, like the lion, like the wild oxen, like the fish, and so forth.

Plato's argument, then, is that cavelife corrupted men and women. It is better to live under the Sun, than to live in a cave.

This sort of analysis of I & II Samuel has fallen into disrepute, because of both the unity of style and dramatic elements use throughout the books of Samuel and because, if these stories are supposed to be "propaganda," they are pretty terrible at that role. The entire second half of the David story is a tragedy, one where David's shortcomings play the key role. Things like the literary echo of David, as a now feeble old man being confused by the sound of conflict outside during the coup attempt at the start of I Kings, as recalling/echoing the situation of the priest Eli at the opening of I Samuel, seems hardly the incidental work of "splicing propaganda narratives." — Count Timothy von Icarus


And deservedly so. Samuel is a rich text. It was originally one book. An unflinching look at David, for sure. If I had to pick a couple texts that could be closer to "propaganda" I would maybe say Joshua and perhaps 1 & 2 Maccabees. Still I hate that label "propaganda" because these texts are more complicated than that; still, when we compare Joshua to our knowledge of that period something's gotta bend. I do tend to be more on the historical-critical side of things but I do try to remain open to other methods. Conservative Judaism is more open to modern scholarship, while Orthodox Judaism is much more skeptical of the historical-critical approach and relies more on its own tradition. — BitconnectCarlos

@Count Timothy von Icarus, @BitconnectCarlos, I'm under the impression that the concept of propaganda is neither a religious nor a theological concept. Am I wrong?

Bring your favorite poets to this discussion, quote Emily D. for all I care. — Moliere

Emily is my third cousin, twice removed, but she kept coming back.

Greatest part from the series:

Plato's cave allegory — Arcane Sandwich

More like that we are 3D shadows of the 4D Block universe.

Plato's cave allegory — Arcane Sandwich


More like that we are 3D shadows of the 4D Block universe. — PoeticUniverse

That sounds like nonsense.

That sounds like nonsense. — Arcane Sandwich

But it is analogous nonsense. Plato had 2D and 3D going on.


Back to the Biblical, which I like to write about, for it is epic:

NEWS FLASH - Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory have been found!

Original:

“Where in the Woe is Purgatory’s bane?”
Purgatory’s on Venus, where sulfurs rain.
“Where in the Heck is that deep Hell of pain?”
Hell’s found in the sun’s heart, oh hot burning pain!

“Where in the name of Heaven is Paradisea?”
 Of Heaven’s site no one has any idea—
“Really now, where’s Heaven, one and the same?”
It’s the world’s best kept secret: Earth is its name!

“Yes, that’s said, but truly, where is the stead…”
I must tell of them that they’re only read;
“…Of those places spent after we are dead?”
It’s written of words that language bred.

“‘Twas hope-word that invented All that was said?”
‘Twas these that were signed for anything Divine ‘said’.

Expanded:

The Word—The Leanings and The Gleanings

“Where in the Woe is Purgatory’s bane?”
Through stellar depths where ancient questions reign?
Purgatory’s found on Venus’ shore,
Where sulfuric clouds weep acid rain.

“Where in the Heck burns Hell’s eternal flame?”
What cosmic forge could bear that fearsome name?
Hell blazes in the Sun’s consuming heart,
Where plasma storms put demons to shame.

“Where floats fair Heaven in the cosmic sea?”
Where might that blessed realm of promise be?
Of Heaven’s true location in the stars,
No sage or saint has found the master key.

“But surely Paradise must have its place?”
Some garden hanging in ethereal space?
The answer lies beneath your weary feet:
Earth cradles Heaven in its green embrace.

“These mapped-out realms of blessing and of curse,
These spheres divine that prophets did rehearse—
Are they but metaphors in sacred text?”
They’re word-built worlds within our universe.

“When ancient eyes gazed at the starry night,
Did they see paths to realms of dark and light?”
They read the Cosmos like a sacred scroll,
Where human hopes could take celestial flight.

“The worlds above of torment and of grace,
Each carefully assigned its proper place—
Were these but dreams of what comes after death?”
They’re stories writ on Time’s eternal face.

“What power then invented Hell below
And Heaven’s heights where blessed souls might go?”
’Twas language spun these realms of aftermath,
These destinations every heart would know.

“Was hope the author of these Cosmic spheres,
These destinations for our joys and fears?”
The human word gave birth to divine worlds,
To chart the path beyond our mortal years.

“Do modern eyes, which map the cosmic deep,
Still find these realms where souls their vigil keep?”
We’ve found no golden gates or fiery pits,
But mystery still makes the Cosmos weep.

“Then what remains of all these ancient signs,
These carefully drawn theological lines?”
They live within the metaphors we speak,
Where human truth with cosmic truth combines.

“So are they real, these places of the soul?”
These destinations, are they true and whole?
They’re real as love, as hope, as human dreams—
In hearts they live, though space-time takes its toll.

“What final wisdom can these words impart
About the realms that tear the world apart?”
The universe within the human mind
May prove more vast than any stellar chart.

But it is analogous nonsense. Plato had 2D and 3D going on. — PoeticUniverse

Not really. Plato is 4D, through and through.

Not really. Plato is 4D, through and through. — Arcane Sandwich

Yes, you're right; I goofed.

From my 'Now Here; No-Where':

…but where did this block come from? From what quarry was it excavated?”

“It was built in what to us would be all at once in the 5th dimension, lest it take forever to be completed, again, just to us.”

“Well, even just building a never-ending determinate block that only has a specific past and a certain future is a tremendous accomplishment, what with the foreseeing of every eventuality on forward from the Big Bang unto forever, especially the finishing of it in time, which was done even in our shortest time.”

“I told you it was fantastic.”

“But all its paths are fixed—pre-determined.”

“What matters where, what, when, or even who? In life’s fill, any narrative will do.”

“Well, true, but we’ve only just seen the near future and the near past; can you zoom out into the next dimension and show me a larger view.”

“Sure.”

She enlarged our view point, which was really a kind of condensing. I felt an uneasy shift.

“Ugh, Holy Cripes, I see things like tube-worms that begin with a fetus and end with a corpse. Oh, horrors!”

“Those are the world lines of you and everyone.”

“Quick, get rid of it; take me through my own world line, such as like a home movie run on fast forward.”

“OK, here we go. It will be such as just before you die when your whole life flashes before you just ahead of your merging into the timelessness of the great block externe. It’s the 5th dimensional wonder of the Universe.”

“Wait; there’s life after death in this block?”

“Everything in it exists forever. Rejoice, but your goose was cooked long ago, your future eggs laid ‘fore you were aglow.”

And so I saw myself being conceived—yuck, and then as a baby, a toddler, a young boy, an adolescent, and so forth, unto laying on a beach in Tahiti, then the djinni appearing…”

“Wait, stop it; I don’t want to know my future that is carved as dogma into this gargantuan tablet, upon which I’ve already had a glimpse of my cadaver.”

Yes, you're right; I goofed. — PoeticUniverse

You always do.