Embellishments make the movie.

May I just say that all the characters seemed just a bit off. Galileo seemed to be made out as this big robust hero who always had his opinions and wasn't ever going to back off of them, not really, whereas, truly (especially after reading Koestler's analysis of Galileo with Kepler), Galileo might have been a little more cautious. Of course for movie's sake, who wants a wishy washy hero?

Secondly, Bellarmine, AKA the writer who got the crap kicked out of him and whose wife was raped by Alex and his droogs in Clockwork Orange, was the stereotypical church head, there to lay down the law about Galileo's ideas and give him an injunction in Rome (whereas, 1. There was no injunction at least that Galileo remembers and if there was an injunction, it wasn't given by Bellarmine, 2. It wasn't in Rome, wasn't it at Galileo's house?). I saw no friendliness exchanged between Bellarmine and Galileo in the movie... that would have complicated things, right?

Thirdly, I didn't read Galileo's daughter (shame on me) but didn't you, Prof. Bary, mention that she died shortly after the 1633 trial? What was she doing still hanging around and cooking goose livers? More importantly, the bit of Galileo's daughter I did read said Virginia never married because Galileo didn't have the dowry, not because her husband to be flipped his lid about Galileo's opinions. More importantly (and this relates to Galileo more than the would be hubby), Galileo's opinions of the poor were, in real life, not very admirable... he looked down on the poor. If I remember right, in the movie, didn't he sort of sarcastically chastise Virginia's fiancé for being such a stuck up rich guy?

Anyway, bottom line is that the whole thing was super oversimplified for sake of antagonizing and protagonizing certain characters (ahemma hem) all for the story. I'd imagine the actual Galileo story on screen would be pretty confusing, disappointing and disheartening for everybody. Too many actual characters... and it would take a semester to get through. :)

Erm.

I spent quite a few hours yesterday and a bit this morning as well on this piece and I for some reason can't grasp the common thread. I feel like there are a lot of different themes going on in this piece, but they don't want to be sewn together in my head and I can't get why. What I get from this piece is merely reiteration of the fact that Pope John Paul, 350 years after the fact, says the exact things that Galileo was saying and that if the church had allowed this 'elbow room' in the first place instead of letting personalities get in the way (I got that little bit from Koestler...), the whole situation probably could have been avoided.

What little of Sharratt's assessment of Catholics I found (not that it isn't there, probably that I just missed it...) is interesting (that they are a bit embarrassed about the whole thing when they ended up quietly "overturning" the ruling)... I don't know who he's talking about though because I know when I was in Catechism School, they read the Bible pretty literally, but perhaps that speaks more to the Catholic company I kept back in the day as opposed to who's really out there on the Catholic front. I mean, how could you not be sheepish about that sort of thing?

The bit I don't get is how the Church can be embarrassed about that sort of thing without trying to avoid it in the future. The whole gay marriage thing is really going right in that direction, what with interpretation of scripture and all.

I don't know how I feel about this piece. Right now it's not settling well and I am having difficulty seeing what light he chose to portray them in post lesson learning, or what have you. I'll come back to it.

Ehh, Potayto, potahto.

I didn't actually notice the egregious miswording that had happened between Galileo's letter to Lorini's copy to the Consultant's report, but rereading what he had had trouble with, indeed I could find no similar wording whatsoever in Galileo's original text (Or was something sort of along those lines actually written and I missed it?). I think it would be interesting to see the original texts and the original wordings, not that I think it's realistic for the purposes of this class, but in the event that a miswording is said to have happened, it's always important to realize that what we are reading is indeed translated anyway. I don't think necessarily that the translator messed up in translating from, what, Italian(?) to English, but granted there are nuances in other languages that don't translate well.

I actually started, just now, to make a case for how possibly somebody miswrote/misread something, but 1) if you're copying, it's sort of hard to miscopy a whole sentence and 2) the consultant DID put it in quotes and cite the page. I'm not really sure what happened there. Where did the miscopying go wrong? Did Lorini fudge something or is Lorini merely a pawn, given a miscopy of the letter because somebody knew he'd write about it?

My big thing about the letters was that the sun was motionless. Did Galileo ever say that? He said, in regards to the Joshua piece, that the sun's motions (the turning on its own axis) controlled the planets motions and so to stop the sun's motions would have been to stop the planets. Where did this idea that the sun was motionless come up? That was my increasing frustration was that they seemed to completely ignore his attempt to reconcile the Scripture with his findings.

How was it that other than some "poor wording" (which as I've seen was not even his own), the Consultant seemed peachy with it but when it came up later, all these old charges got dredged up again? I suppose this is discussion for class.

Letter to the Big D

So, couple the actual letter to the Grand Duchess and McMullin's assessment, and you've pretty much got it all right there.

I feel like there were more than just a couple of themes, and McMullin actually put these all out like principles that Augustine had written hundreds of years previous and that Galileo just honed in on. Did McMullin say that Galileo wrote/asserted what he did before he knew about what Augustine had written or post? I guess it doesn't matter since they ended up saying the same things anyway.

The most important themes I saw were these, and McMullin did characterize them:

(Principle of Consistency): The proper meaning of Scripture cannot be in true conflict with the findings of human sense or reason.

(Principle of Scriptural Limitation): Since the primary concern of the Scripture is with human salvation, we should not look to Scripture for knowledge of the natural world.

*These in themselves, as McMullin stated, should have been enough for Galileo to just say what he knew and observed and leave it at that. But that's not the ballgame Galileo is playing here and he needed to play by the rules. For that, he put down a couple more themes, just to play nice (I mean, he and Augustine both genuinely believed all of these principles; it's not like Galileo's lying to save himself):

(Principle of Prudence): When trying to discern the meaning of a difficult scriptural passage, one should keep in mind that different interpretations of the text may be possible and that, in consequence, one should not rush in to premature commitment to one of these, especially since further progress in the search for the truth may later undermine this interpretation.

(Principle of Priority of Demonstration): When there is a conflict between a proven truth about the physical world and a particular reading of Scripture, an alternative reading should be sought.

A couple other things to be mentioned was that Galileo didn't believe all the Fathers were in agreement on their interpretations of Scripture. I don't know exactly if that's a theme, but it's worth noting.

Is it satisfying?

So, I missed the last blog entry and I'm really sorry for that. I guess I knew what I wanted to say, but I didn't really feel like I knew how to address it. And that last question of class really threw me off, "Are you satisfied?" or "Is it satisfying?" however it was phrased. Mostly, I wasn't sure what to be satisfied about, but I've just had this clarifying moment while reading Galileo, that what you, Professor Bary, meant by the question was, "Is knowing the big picture satisfying?"

Yes, it's immensely satisfying, thank you for asking. I guess it's satisfying in the way that a mind opening experience can be... and it's been very difficult, I guess, to get to said point in this affair, what with all the reading we've had to do (I'm not complaining, just pointing out the price you must pay to be really knowledgeable).

Now that we're all teary-eyed, let's address the prompt. I'm going to go with #2, the anti-church, anti-Galilean extremes, since it seems most relevant to the mind-opening theme of my blog. I guess I'm really pleased to have been briefed on the history of the church at the time as well as Galileo's relationship to it--which was, for the most part congenial up 'til the Inquisition, etc. That in itself was interesting to read about. I guess I never really thought about Galileo being Catholic or even Christian for that matter so to find out how adamant he was about his work yet how apologetic he was for being so quick with the punches really set a different tone to the idea of the "Galileo Affair."

I never knew there was an anti-Galilean position, much less that Koestler would be profess such a position, but I guess I'm not surprised, ha ha. It's interesting to see how Galileo would be perceived to be in the wrong. Combining Galileo's snarky attitude, his semi-false reasoning on certain arguments (the most important point), and what the world could be perceived to be (IE: people flying off the earth at the equator from sheer speed), it's not a surprise to me that some people did think he was totally off.

So yes. I'm satisfied. [emphatic thumbs up]

Ultimate Mange

I think Koestler finds Kepler to be this sort of stereotypical overzealous and defensive hurt mangy dog like person, but still lovable in a pathetic sort of way nonetheless. From childhood to growing up, Koestler never really writes of Kepler in an unfavourable light exactly. He might point out his shortcomings but ultimately Koestler writes of Kepler redeeming himself in some way.

Copernicus on the other hand seemed to just be this nervous old wishy washy wet rag who never overcame his past and upbringing in the way that Kepler did. Probably I would think Koestler was pretty frustrated with Copernicus whereas you see this zeal written about Kepler that has to indicate some sort of fondness.

I swear I didn't look to the next blog entry.

So I mean last blog didn't exactly answer the blog prompt for Monday (apparently I didn't either. What's wrong with me?)

Anyway. To just sort of restate what I'd said before... or maybe I'm puttin' down the final words about it given that I really finished the chapter this time. Copernicus was not like the rest of the great philosophers (well he's a mathematician). He may rank right up there, but he's the only one who pussed out on his hypotheses and didn't put them right out there with vigor. The irony is that he had the best idea of all of his predecessors but the worst self esteem about them. He knew he was right but that his book was crap. He wanted to keep his hypotheses following Aristotelian physics when in truth that was what was wrong with his hypotheses. He worried too much about being put in a bad place or being looked down upon that he forsook his very student Rheticus, among others. As far as I could tell, he was a wet rag, not this high and mighty God-Man of philosophy.

And I sort of like that. As to why, see previous entry.

Copernicus is another iceberg!

To be fair, most of who/what we've discussed in class has been relatively similar to an iceberg. We all came to class with a little bit of information on a handful of various philosophers and astronomers (well everybody else did, I didn't know much at all, haha) and we read a little and come to find out that there really was more than that.

Well, maybe not in Copernicus's case given how, as the title so appropriately asserts, timid he was.

Anyhow, I seem to be more interested in the personalities of all these various movers and shapers in the world of astronomy. Which is all fine and dandy but somewhat irrelevant nonetheless. I guess their personalities make me better understand their ideals and motivations and make them less lofty and in many ways less respectable. I mean, I'm not trying to break people down or anything, but it's always nice to be able to feel like you can disagree with somebody who was as influential as, say, Plato or Aristotle.

My biggest thing with the Copernicus section is the idea that, jeepers, would somebody else have pushed the idea of geocentrism if Giese and Rheticus hadn't been around to reassure Copernicus that his ideas were valuable? Or what if Rheticus hadn't been so devoted to write the narratio prima? I guess that's not really a good question, because the same could be said about anything in history. What if so-and-so hadn't done such-and-such?

Let me come back to reblog about it. The reading hasn't sunk in quite yet.

Meanwhile, the whole church thing reminded me of Brad Neely and his brilliance. Let me apologize for how absolutely crude he is, but you must admit, it's pretty witty:

Take... Wait, what take are we on?

In the readings (wow what a lame way to start a blog), I found it interesting not in the fact that the Church and Aristotle were challenged (or rather that somebody challenged them...) (because I mean you figure that that's going to happen anyway) but how the laws that they managed to set so nearly in stone were contradicted. From cadavers to free will, this working from the first step forward with me learning about astronomy and how things came to be is all very fascinating.

Anyway. Aristotle's ideas needed to be challenged for the simple fact that they weren't true. They weren't based on legitimate empirical evidence and I think these discoveries resulted in not just a change of ideals but a change in the way we come about these ideals. Or maybe I'm just looking too far into something that isn't really there. I don't know. This is how I see it. Every time something that we take for granted and true is broken down by legitimate evidence, it challenges us to look further into anything else that we might take for truth. And that is always a good place to be in.

As it pertains to this class, at least they're sort of trying. Or I mean. At least somebody is trying to challenge these things. I wouldn't say that Galileo was exactly inspired by the notion to challenge things because, just from the little bit I read of Galileo's daughter, he seemed always the kind of rebellious guy to go around telling people that tradition is silly, etc., and I mean maybe some of that was his background (what with his father, right, challenging Pythagoras's music theories?). Anyway, I think just the whole mentality of things needing to be challenged and being challenged and changing thus was starting to heat up, whether or not the Church liked it. So there.

This late stuff has got to stop.

In reading the excerpts, I thought at first (though not for very long) that perhaps the Philosopher was just a general term for Philosopher, but rereading, Aquinas is being more specific than that. He's definitely talking about Aristotle. The fact that he calls him "THE Philosopher" (capitalized and everything) indicates one-and-onliness.

As I'm starting to write this, I'm realizing that everything we discussed yesterday in class is coming together. For whatever reason, I don't make connections very well when I'm thinking about or discussing it but when I really start putting words down, things click. For that reason, I want to apologize for not having written this pre class and my subsequent muteness during class discussion.

Anyway.

We know that Augustine was fiercely Platonic and now we see that Aquinas is, again, chiefly Aristotelian although not as loyally as Augustine was Platonic (his bio states that, despite his Aristotelian views, his critical thinking skills did not escape those ideas of Aristotle that he disagreed with). Though Aristotle was Plato's student, they greatly differed in their philosophies mostly in that Plato was about rational thought and logic and Aristotle was about empirical evidence and observing. In that same way, Augustine differs from Aquinas. Aquinas uses the same exact Aristotelian physics to prove the existence of God where Augustine might have just said "Well, we know he exists because we have faith. If you have scientific evidence to back me up, great, but know that you're a sinner for the pleasurable acquisition of said evidence and you're going to hell."

The effect this had on the church is somewhat unclear to me. It seems that at least getting away from Platonic hypotheses and philosophies and onto Aristotelian ones would be better than what they were doing, but Koestler asserts on page 111 that, while the tone of Aristotelian physics and philosophies (empirical) was a step in the right direction, scientists and "schoolmen" of the time took it too far to start believing what Aristotle had actually written and said and "for the next three hundred years this rubbish came to be regarded as gospel truth."

I'm having another moment. I think my thesis is going to be on this very subject, specifically the argument that Aristotle wrote regarding motion. I'm not sure how broad I want to take it, but I definitely want to mention that these very physics were used by Robert Chisholm in the 60's as support for the existence of immanent vs. transient causation regarding free will. In the very same argument, Chisholm quotes Aquinas as well and his idea of God as the "Prime Mover".

So onto bibliographies!

Post Redemption, Reverse Redemption (Oh, and my thesis)

So after I totally owned the last three blogs, I got the most recent blog notification late and thus waited (I swear accidentally) til today to write yesterdays.

But enough about excuses.

This whole section about the Middle Ages really seems to me like one big chaotic mess. I'm sort of envisioning a bunch of scraggly men running around waving books and pens shouting out different things. While I can see their reasoning (really really poor reasoning but at least they tried) for all the different changes in the perception of of the universe, it doesn't answer why. The most interesting part is that all the people responsible for the absurd hypotheses put forth in the Middle Ages were philosophers. Now, I do not deny that, pre middle ages, those that truly shaped the universe as they perceived it were NOT philosophers, they most definitely were. But at least there were astronomers trying to back up what the philosophers said (ie: Ptolemy and his wondrous and deliciously impossible model). In the Middle Ages (and maybe I missed this?), it was just philosophers making stuff up with, as Koestler put it, "terrifying verbal acrobacy," which, in a sense, is all that philosophy is anyway.

From this, I want to begin to form (begin to form! Shouldn't it already be formed?) my paper's thesis. I'm not sure how yet I want to phrase it, but I want to make an argument somehow relating the nature of philosophy to the hinderance of true scientific discovery. It seems to me that all philosophy does it make very nice arguments for things that might not necessarily be true and it gets away with it by being so good at making said arguments that it's hard to point out exactly where the argument is false. In this way, it makes it very easy to simply accept what one is given in a philosophical argument as opposed to legitimately challenging it because you're not quite sure where the argument fails if it fails at all. I will continue to flesh this out, but for now, that's where it lies.

I'm Starting to Immensely Distrust Philosophy!

As a preface, let it be noted that the book preview for the Literal Meaning of Genesis specifically excluded pages 43-79 in which, I assume, chapters 9 and 10 were. Sorry. I don't really know what to do about that. It straight jumped from page 42 to 80...?

So, this is what I gathered from Augustine. (And I truly read him because I felt like I needed to redeem myself (again) in class.)

The bit of his biography that was the most relevant to the class was such: " So long, therefore, as his philosophy agrees with his religious doctrines, St. Augustine is frankly neo-Platonist; as soon as a contradiction arises, he never hesitates to subordinate his philosophy to religion, reason to faith."

A red flag if ever I saw one.

With that in mind, I continued on to his writings.
The biggest thing that Augustine asserted and reasserted was the fact that Plato is a lover of God and that all philosophies Platonic were the closest to the church's doctrines and scriptures and therefore was the most trustworthy of all the philosophers, I guess is the word I'm looking for. In this sense, he didn't really ignore philosophers so much as pick and choose which ones were legitimate according to him and thus the church. I mean, I guess he paid attention to the philosophers, or rather philosopher, in this sense. He admits: " If, then, Plato defined the wise man as one who imitates, knows, loves this God, and who is rendered blessed through fellowship with Him in His own blessedness, why discuss with the other philosophers?" At least he admits his bias or preference.

He goes on to discuss the nature of the various heavenly beings-- " In every changeable thing, the form which makes it that which it is, whatever be its mode or nature, can only be through Him who truly is, because He is unchangeable." He synonymizes 'natural' with 'physical' in the Godly sense (a very Plantinga statement, haha) which manages to full circle back to Plato being Godly, etc. ("to philosophize is to love God").

The part that really struck me was his definition of the nature of philosophy:
" He is on his guard, however, with respect to those who philosophize according to the elements of this world, not according to God, by whom the world itself was made; for he is warned by the precept of the apostle, and faithfully hears what has been said, 'Beware that no one deceive you through philosophy and vain deceit, according to the elements of the world.'"

Now, I will grant that he is a God-fearing man, but that just seems to be unreasonable. I guess that's what I get for not being a theist, but it seems awfully silly.

Augustine is relevant in that I feel like he speaks a lot for the church, not necessarily that he is the church's mouthpiece or spokesman but that, simply, he represents what the church at the time probably thought. The real zinger is that Plato is probably the least (well maybe not the least) reliable source of astronomical rules/discoveries given his disposition regarding astronomy in general, which is disdainful. Hence my title. Plato plus Plantinga today really made me distrust the art of philosophy. Plato was this heralded man in the world of science (in general, philosophy, astronomy, you name it, people usually took his word for gospel--no pun intended) but in the realm of astronomy anyway, I just imagine Plato boredly describing these elabourate plans for the universe, waving his hand about in a holier-than-thou manner, not really giving a hang about it. And Augustine trusted it because Plato was similarly a God-fearing man and therefore he was the most reliable?

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, that fifth chapter of Sleepwalkers really helped wrap up the early theories of astronomy quite nicely. The succinct timeline/rundown of astronomers ending with the Ptolemaic [and perfected] model for the universe really ended that first bit well in that there is still a big chunk of the book left dedicated to completely destroying this "perfected" system. I mean, and for the time it was pretty perfected (well, I mean excluding the differences in brightness and size, but everybody at the time was pretty much trying to ignore that). It explained the speed ups, slow downs, retrograde motions, and it included the beloved circles. See my post before last for my Eureka moment.

How 'bout them apples?

RE: Alvin Plantinga (AKA modern day Plato)

A true philosopher. He plays with words without any sort of scientific backup. I can respect a good philosopher, but truly he is a modern day Plato. He could make a good case but when it came to legitimate scientific evidence, he refused to back up his claims, even admitting he knew nothing about the actual subject, that he was only a philosopher. The stalactite/stalagmite mixup was questionable to me but even if I let that slide, the one stumper of a question that (and godblessit I wish I knew his name) the kid with the Japanese Nikes on had (I think) everybody (including me) in the FSEM grinning:

(And I paraphrase...): "So, are we the end of evolution? God guided evolution to us since we are in his image, I mean, are we going to sprout wings or something? If not, why would God send his only son to die for us if we're only going to evolve to something greater?"

To which Plantinga replied something along the lines of, I don't know, "I don't have an opinion on that."

What good is a philosopher if you only want to give valid arguments that aren't necessarily sound? (For those non philosophers out there, a valid argument works within itself, that is Premise A and B do add up to the conclusion, but a valid argument requires true statements.) Isn't philosophy more than word play? It's about reality, existence, knowledge. You can't just make shit up, it doesn't work that way. (Excuse me, that was rude.)

Eureka! ...!?

I just wanted to blog (legitimately blog in that a blog is supposed to be something you truly want to express rather than a means of conversing with classmates--No offense, Professor Bary) that I had a Eureka moment just now, reading Koestler. A couple weeks ago, we had mini group discussions about the failure of nerve. I didn't see an example of "failure of nerve" in the chapter assigned. To me, a failure of nerve is one's personal holding back of ideas because one thinks they're not true or one thinks probably that the argument is weak. All I saw in the chapter were people trying to give evidence to a hypothesis that was set in stone as opposed to finding evidence and modifying the hypothesis as such.

In reading Koestler today, however, I got my Eureka moment. The top of page 81 wraps up a discussion on the continued myths of circles vs. ellipses, which was the discussion of the "failure of nerve" section as well. The very last sentence in the whole thing lays out failure of nerve right there!:

We shall see that, two thousand years later, Johannes Kepler, who cured astronomy of the circular obsession, still hesitated to adopt elliptical orbits, because, he wrote, if the answer were as simple as that, "then the problem would already have been solved by Archimedes and Apollonius."

I reread the sentence, underlined it, circled it, wrote next to it "failure of nerve" and then promptly got up to write this blog. It's too perfect! The reason why people hesitated to put out new ideas wasn't for fear of church persecution but for simple self doubt. The whole idea was that it would have been too easy to be right and by the same token that all the great philosophers and astronomers past hadn't put it out there first.

This is by no means the assigned blog for Friday, but I just thought I'd redeem myself a little bit. And by God, I hope I'm not wrong.

Oh, God, how did I not realize we had to blog today?

After making it through the jargon of the nature of persons (right? I read that two days ago so it's a little foggy), I made it to the physics/astronomy parts of Aristotle's writings. The parallels between the two were all about the five elements (fire, earth, water, air, ether) and, essentially, a person's character can be shaped by his intentions and actions from said intentions. That led into the science part with his:

"The natural way of doing this is to start from the things which are more knowable and obvious to us and proceed towards those which are clearer and more knowable by nature; for the same things are not 'knowable relatively to us' and 'knowable' without qualification. So in the present inquiry we must follow this method and advance from what is more obscure by nature, but clearer to us, towards what is more clear and more knowable by nature."

Okay, right, great.

He goes on to expound on the nature of motion saying, "But all movement that is in place, all locomotion, as we term it, is either straight or circular or a combination of these two, which are the only simple movements," another granted thought from the time although, to be sure, it is without legitimate evidence.

The basic gist was that there is only one Earth and because the universe is without beginning, it is also without end and therefore indestructible.

Memo to self: What constitutes the heavens? And why are they necessarily spherical? Is 'heavens' synonymous with 'universe'? "That there is one heaven, then, only, and that it is ungenerated and eternal, and further that its movement is regular, has now been sufficiently explained."

Okay, so now that I've completely worn out my ctrl+c, ctrl+v keys, let's discuss a little Plato vs. Aristotle.

Plato, not being astronomically inclined and in fact being disdainful of it, has opinions simpler from that of Aristotle. Aristotle, I think, expounds on a lot of Plato's different thoughts but where Plato tries to use a lot of numbers, Aristotle uses only reasons and empirical observations. This makes perfect sense given the two philosophies on astronomy they have (well, duh).

Anyway, I've completely outdone myself stating the obvious today. Great job!

Revelations from the Phillistine

I thought I'd start the blog off with a little pop news humour. The God reference is sort of relevant to class!

Anyway, so, I guess I've always had a hard time with that very first diagram on the path of the sun. I think that was one of those diagrams I always briefly nodded at in grade school before quickly turning the page to hide my obvious incomprehension. Call it a "Eureka!" moment for me, having reread it just a couple days ago (I know, yikes, right?). Anyway, that was my first little glimmer of fascination. It had never really occurred to me why everyone complained about winter being sort of sunless, why the skies were usually gray. I just usually blamed it on being overcast (Yeah, but that often? Come on, Conklin). Well whatever my self prescribed answers were, I've got the real ones here. Boy howdy. Along the same line (oh, no, I'm about to make a really bad pun...), the concept of the ecliptic plus the earth's tilt never really made sense or at least that I never comprehended it until rereading it here.

I guess this whole little reading session really was just a big fun facts session for me. The concept behind the Zodiac and why each month long section got its own sign was interesting. I mean, I knew it had to do with stars, but what exactly or rather how was never clear to me. I just never thought about it.

I will say, though, that the concept of the sundial didn't really impress me though it seemed to be everyone else's source of excitement. Not that I didn't enjoy the concept, it was just sort of old news.

[at left, scene from Hercules: "Hey mack, you wanna buy a sun dial?"]

The technicalities of the solar/lunar eclipse were clarifying. I always sort of knew the basic gist, but the different positions of the earth along the ecliptic and the distance of the moon to the earth affecting the totality of an eclipse never really occurred to me.

So that's that. See you all in the vis lab!

Dense: hard to understand because of complexity of ideas

[For title sentence, see above.]

The density of an article or passage is directly proportionate to the amount of time I may spend dilly-dallying.

But, seriously, to be fair, being in my Intro to Philosophical Problems class and having to read Plato in this class (who is indeed a philosopher) makes me at least a little more patient than I normally would be whilst reading something so dense.

The first bit, The Allegory of the Cave wasn't so bad to read. I am rather fond of allegories and analogies (analogies more so because they're less subject to interpretation). The thing about allegories or analogies is that they’re never quite flawless because they are a comparison of sorts to the original situation, NOT the original situation. That aside, the Cave was pretty solid.

For sake of not summarizing, let me just point out some key points I saw. The comparison between the illusory shadows and the real deal being confusing to those prisoners who saw only illusions was a pretty interesting way of comparing the observations we make without evidence to the real scientific explanations. Plato uses a comparison of adjusting eyesight to adjusting perception of the world and the universe as well as comparing the “journey upwards to… the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world;” all of this he states in his final paragraph.

Now, maybe this is a cop out of interpretation, but he straight says his opinion is that, “in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right.” Why should I try to restate what he already says?

As for The Universe, the main points he makes as I see it are these:
1. God made order of disorder and made the world “a living creature truly endowed with soul and intelligence”
2. “In order then that the world might be solitary, like the perfect animal, the creator made not two worlds or an infinite number of them; but there is and ever will be one only-begotten and created heaven.” That is to say that there is only one world.
3. “That which is created is of necessity corporeal, and also visible and tangible.”
4. “The Creator compounded the world out of all the fire and all the water and all the air and all the earth, leaving no part of any of them nor any power of them outside.”
5. The world was created perfect and even and has a soul in the middle.
6. “The inner motion he divided in six places and made seven unequal circles having their intervals in ratios of two-and three, three of each, and bade the orbits proceed in a direction opposite to one another; and three [Sun, Mercury, Venus] he made to move with equal swiftness, and the remaining four [Moon, Saturn, Mars, Jupiter] to move with unequal swiftness to the three and to one another, but in due proportion.”
7. “The sun and moon and five other stars, which are called the planets, were created by him in order to distinguish and preserve the numbers of time.”
8. The sun was created to light the heavens and from that is night and day.
9. There are stars that behave in two manners: “the first, a movement on the same spot after the same manner, whereby they ever continue to think consistently the same thoughts about the same things; the second, a forward movement, in which they are controlled by the revolution of the same and the like
10. Everything is made of fire, air, water and earth (because they all make each other and come from each other)

Post, he goes to discuss the nature of humans. Let it be noted that our own very noggins are compared to the perfection of a sphere. I can’t tell if I think that’s funny or not.

Now let me say that the extent to which Plato described the process of #5 (the making of the Earth’s Soul) got pretty technical. It’s pretty impressive how technical you can get about something that doesn’t exist, I’d say. That’s probably the most interesting thing I read. It just never occurred to me that, while I may nod to their belief that the world is alive, I would never have thought to give it a soul.

#3 also struck me. It’s the whole concept of “If I can see it, it’s not there” sort of thing.

Maybe I missed something, but it seems to me that all of these points that I pulled are all things that we no longer regard as truth.

[Insert Lame Spherical Joke]

From what I can tell, the chapter isn't so much about failed nerves as much as various astronomers and scientists desperately trying to find explanations for piss poor hypotheses and/or statements by great philosophers taken for truth.

The little section about Plato in chapter four compared with the diagrams on page 49 (see left) really made me, perhaps wrongly, giggle. It was just too perfect. Plato, this great know-diddly about astronomy making great claims about things needing to be perfect and in the end these astronomers were only trying to figure out logical explanations for the movements of these planets (bottom left of picture at right was quite ingenious, even if erroneous) while still maintaining this "natural perfection" of spheres and circles. The Plato vs. Aristotle section was interesting, too (starting page 53), including the section comparing Plato's Utopia to Orwell's 1984. Not having read 1984 (I know, right, what high school did I come from?), I guess I sort of miss much of the point, but I get the gist of it and it is indeed interesting.

As for the Greeks and their linear knowledge, I agree that knowledge progresses. I mean, we may agree that sometimes we may backtrack to old abandoned ideas and try to make them work again in new ways, but I wouldn't necessarily write that off as anti-progressive. I would not agree however, given the definition of linear (in a line or nearly straight line; or progressing from one stage to another in a single series of steps), that the pursuit of knowledge is linear. It may have the same sort of form as linear (an upward movement of more and more knowledge) but I see it more as a bunch of different lines instead of one single line-- and what is the line moving towards anyway? Is the upward movement signifying the volume of knowledge, per say? Imagine a tower of babel that keeps building upwards anyway despite the language/culture barrier and perhaps, expounding on this analogy, the tower is built in many a fashion and many a method, but continues to be build nonetheless.

Yeah, that just got a little out of hand.

Pythagorean Iceberg

So, I'm not going to lie. Before I began the reading on Pythagoras, I said to myself, "Okay, the only thing I know about Pythagoras is his theorem, A^2+B^2=C^2... So what does that have to do with anything?" Post reading, obviously, it all makes sense.

That the Pythagorean Theorem is merely the tip of the Pythagorean iceberg is the perfect analogy. As we all read, Pythagoras was "an ancient radical," but huge nonetheless, achieving "semi-divine status." He developed these simple yet well thought out formulas and means of making these numbers work beautifully together. He even developed a means of tuning lutes and other stringed instruments, notably means that sounded poorly, "like a drunkard up and down the scale," not that it mattered, it was all about the numbers. Numbers were the root of everything.

When things like zeros and irrationals came into play, the whole system went kaput. The section "Zero" from Nothing Comes of Nothing mentions that the Greeks refused to acknowledge such numbers and kept the whole hole in their system under wraps. This is the parallel I saw between the truth of numbers and the truth of the universe (it should be noted that Pythagoras supported the idea of a geocentric solar system). Hippasus was thrown overboard for revealing the truth about irrational numbers, "for ruining a beautiful theory with harsh facts." I think that quote right there sums up the motivation. "Zero" ends its passage by saying "...it was not ignorance that led the Greeks to reject zero, nor was it the restrictive Greek number-shape system. It was philosophy. Zero conflicted with the fundamental philosophical beliefs of the West, for contained within zero are two ideas that were poisonous to Western doctrine."

More about this is sure to come in class.

FSEM 131 Takes on Philly

The collection at the Franklin Institute was, to say the least, impressive. A lot of different people other than Galileo helped to shape Galileo's findings and therefore the Galileo exhibit and it sort of helped me to find my bearings on the whole subject. Specifically, the name Medicea or Medici had been floating around class for awhile without me having any sort of clue as to what was going on and the exhibit really helped me identify the major players of astronomy back in the 1600's. Other names like Cosimo I and Archimendes not so prominent in class as well helped to point me in the right direction to discovering the setting that was Galileo's time. I haven't yet properly researched the names, but the museum display at least identified them.

The first thing I noticed was the hundreds (hundreds?) of different artifacts I guess I could say that were used to help navigate the seas (the discrepancy in country sized between the various maps were super cool). As Prof. Bary himself said, "I don't even know how to use half of these things." Imagine how I felt, haha.

The most striking to me however was, obviously, Galileo's telescope, the reason we traveled 10 hours (I say that very lovingly as that was some mad FSEM bonding). It just struck me as ingenious (again, thank you Captain Obvious) that Galileo could take a lead pipe with two plates of glass and completely verify the rewriting of the universe. It looked so simple, almost impossibly so and Galileo managed to observe the most fantastic of things.

What really struck me was that, however simple and ingenious the design, Galileo managed to perfect it in many a shorter time than anybody else possibly could (if I read right, right?). I don't really know where I was going with that other than that I thought it was interesting.

I love museums!

Click on this for your life's purpose!

I am terribly fascinated by the Babylonian creation story. It basically explains the creation story of the Earth to be but an after effect of this great battle between Gods. The creation of the Earth was not something that these Gods had planned all along but was just a sort of victory show off thing that this Marduk did with Tiamat's corpse to prove what a badass he was:

"He turned back to where Tiamat lay bound, he straddled the legs and smashed her skull ( for the mace was merciless), he severed the arteries and the blood streamed down the north wind to the unknown ends of the world.

When the gods saw all this they laughed out loud, and they sent him presents. They sent him their thankful tributes.

The lord rested; he gazed at the huge body, pondering how to use it, what to create from the dead carcass. He split it apart like a cockle-shell; with the upper half he constructed the arc of sky, he pulled down the bar and set a watch on the waters, so they should never escape.

He crossed the sky to survey the infinite distance; he station himself above apsu, that apsu built by Nudimmud over the old abyss which now he surveyed, measuring out and marking in.

He stretched the immensity of the firmament, he made Esharra, the Great Palace, to be its earthly image, and Anu and Enlil and Ea had each their right stations."

...What a maniac! Of course, after all this blood shed, he went on to take credit for the stars, the moon, the sun, the calendar, etc., and of course he could not be finished without making servants for the gods:

"'Blood to blood
I join,
blood to bone
I form
an original thing,
its name is MAN,
aboriginal man
is mine in making.

'All his occupations
are faithful service,
the gods that fell
have rest,
I will subtly alter
their operations,
divided companies
equally blest.'"

And so on and so forth.

As we all know, the contemporary Judeo-Christian tale of creation is a lot less fantastic and simpler. Everything was created in peace and harmony and in God's image as a sort of whimsical (perhaps whimsical is not the right adjective but that's what comes to my mind) thing that God wanted to do.

The only similarity I see involves the role of man vs. God(s) in which we were put on Earth as tools of God. The Babylonian myth describes us as servants, flat out, and while the Christian version (God forbid I say 'myth') doesn't exactly say we are God's servants in Genesis1, many Christians believe we are put on this Earth to do God's will and in that way so we are servants.

How fascinating! That was fun.

Galileo=True Old School Baller

Let me start by saying I feel like Galileo was one of those hard core geniuses who knew he was right but had to put his findings in ways that were hard to argue with in a way to sound logical and not just arrogant. That being said, I want to say that I think Galileo did know how big his observations were. He knew that they were important even if small. They began to break down the old Copernicus way of thought with just the simplest of observations--observations that would not, however, be possible without his ingenious telescope. For instance, the moon's changing appearance is due to illumination from the sun, a simple observation but an observation nonetheless. The way to make a scientific discovery is never with bells and whistles and radical ideas because most of the time, one will be written off as loony. I don't think exactly Galileo was subtle by any means (why should he have been?) but at least he worked his way into saying "Hey, guys, the sun's the center," with smaller observations as different pieces of information.

I cannot say that I have personally observed any of these things that he notes, neither our moon nor Jupiter and its moons. I once looked through a telescope long ago at a wedding reception but not since and regret to say that I have never even taken an astronomy course. I'm not sure how far back that puts me in terms of everyone else's experience, but I'll do my best to keep up, I guess. As for my perspective, I, for the most part, take Galileo's observations as truths (keeping in mind that I as well read the footnotes that corrected his few errors). Observing for myself what he saw would only serve as reinforcement or verification.

Now, poetry is very much my Achilles heel and probably my least favorite form of writing, so I will try to do my best with our pal Lucretius. This poem was long and drawn out and at times didn't seem to relate at all to Galileo or the church or even astronomy, however I will admit that my ineptitude with poetry perhaps might contribute to this deduction. I will note what it appears everyone else has noted in their blogs (as it seems the most relevant, although I swear I saw it in the text as well) the lines about the "Bodiless and Invisible," as it seems most relevant to our class. I'm an aficionado of making sound arguments based on comparisons and analogies and that he relates the planets and what we cannot see to tiny particles, organs and microscopic objects too small for the eyes. In essence, he writes that it's senseless to talk down hypotheses regarding the existence of objects (planets) just because you can't see them. What he says about human nature relates to the idea that the same piece of information can be taken in different ways and some people may just flat out refuse to see it.

At this point, I feel like a total shmuck because the common cold is at its peak with me right now and the various liquids pouring from my face and eyes restrict me from doing anything involving having to read or even have my eyes open. I hope I do better next time... Jeepers.