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Alea Iacta Story Hour: A Mythic Rome Campaign (Baby Announcement: 8/17)
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<blockquote data-quote="Orichalcum" data-source="post: 1310738" data-attributes="member: 3722"><p><strong>AI VI: When in Rome Post 9: More Philosophy</strong></p><p></p><p>While reading this, Wena has sat down on the floor in the open section of the library. Glancing up, halfway through the scroll, she notices a small girl with flaming red hair carefully dusting and stacking scrolls, about twenty feet away. As she reaches up to a higher shelf, the girl’s clean but drab tunic falls back and Wena can see what look like some sort of Celtic tattoo patterns. She gets up and quietly approaches the girl.</p><p></p><p> “Hello, I’m Wena. What’s your name?”</p><p> “Praecia. Well, that’s what my master calls me.”</p><p> “Who’s your master?”</p><p> “Fufidius Priscus, the chief librarian. I clean the scrolls by day and help my mother clean his house and serve food in the evenings.”</p><p></p><p> “What’s your mother’s name?”</p><p> “Rhysenn.”</p><p> “And what does your mother call you, young one?”</p><p> “I’m not supposed to say. It’s a secret.”</p><p> “You can tell me if you want. I’m a vates; that means that part of my job is to keep secrets. I won’t tell anyone.”</p><p></p><p> The young girl beckons Wena down to her level, and, looking first in both directions, whispers in her ear. “My mommy says my real name is Boadicea!”</p><p> “That’s a wonderful name. Do you know where it comes from?” Wena, surprised but calm, asks.</p><p> “Yes, she was a great queen and hero of my mommy’s tribe, the Icky....Icky...”</p><p> “Iceni. Your mother is of the Iceni, and so are you...and so am I. Your mom must have been captured as a slave in the Iceni rebellion 30 years ago?”</p><p> Boadicea nods in response.</p><p></p><p> “Look, Boadicea, I have Iceni tattoos, like I think you do. Will you show me your arms?” Wena lifts the sleeve of her robe briefly, to show the complex and intricate spiral patterns of woad long since inked into her skin.</p><p> Boadicea shyly pulls back her sleeve, to reveal a number of inked on designs that look like a child’s rendering of unfamiliar drawings. “Aren’t they wonderful? Mommy says these make me a real Iceni.”</p><p></p><p> “They’re very good, Boadicea, “ Wena says, trying not to laugh at them, “but I think with my help, we could make them even better. Can I come visit you and your mom sometime?”</p><p> Boadicea agrees enthusiastically and gives Wena directions to Fufidius Priscus’s house, warning her to use the servants’ entrance. She says that her mother, Rhysenn, will be very happy to meet another Iceni.</p><p> </p><p> Meanwhile, Marcus has chatted briefly with the fussy Fufidius and, by flashing around his gold ring of the equites, gotten admission to the restricted section. After searching through for some time, he comes to the interesting conclusion that most of the works on Neoplatonist philosophy and on practical applications of Plato’s ideas have been removed. In fact, only one work even by the former chief librarian, Quintus Herennius, survives, and it has had its lower half mysteriously ripped off. Marcus carefully memorizes the remaining portion in an attempt to glean what useful information he can:</p><p></p><p><strong> On the Practical Application of </strong></p><p><strong> the Concept of Platonic Forms</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong> by</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong> Quintus Herennius,</strong></p><p><strong> Chief Librarian of the Imperial Library of Trajan,</strong></p><p><strong> with reference to discussions with the most-wise</strong></p><p><strong> Lysimachus of Chaeronea</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p></p><p> Many Greeks, who never in their thousands of years of history did anything useful or productive, argue today that philosophy is merely a mental exercise, designed to enlighten and expand our thoughts. Yet we Romans have a much wiser view, using philosophy as a moral guide by which to live our lives in a more proper and just fashion. We use philosophy to improve the quality of our daily existence, having learned that its precepts may not only inspire our minds but improve our bodies and enable us to manipulate the world around us more successfully.</p><p></p><p>Even this largely wastes the value of philosophical inquiry, in my opinion. For ideally philosophy is a quest for the truth, and just as the natural philosophers have used their wisdom to tell us the paths and patterns of the stars and how the wheat contains all the building blocks of our bones and blood, so too should we use even the most recondite and abstruse of the Greek philosophies to discover solid, useful truths about our world.</p><p></p><p> I will use Plato’s theory of forms as an example in this case, though its connection to our everyday world may seem extreme. For Plato supposes a world where each object or creature has its true Form, and that our world is merely a reflection of that place, with all the distortions and dimness that one sees in a mirror. </p><p></p><p>And while the Greek philosophers deal merely with this place as an abstract concept, I believe that it must actually exist, just as though we cannot perceive directly our strength of body or speed of limbs we know that these exist and can affect them with our minds. I believe that the place of forms is bound and linked to our world although it is not part of our world, much like the pastries one may purchase at the bakers, which have many thin layers which lie over each other to form one entire sweet for children, with only a small space in between each layer for honey or figs. And there are stories that Pythagoras, after long study, was able to bring some of the Forms into our own world, and that this is where he gained his dubious obsession with legumes, after studying and observing the Ideal Bean. But this seems dubious, and more likely the only path between that realm and our own is a mental one. </p><p></p><p> I have tried to stretch out to Plato’s realm of forms with my mind, and on three occasions I believe that I have managed while in a state of quiet repose to glimpse the true realm, and it is most beautiful and sheds much light on what is mysterious in the human soul. Yet my colleagues mock me and say merely that I dozed, and indeed, none of my students have been able to find the realm of forms. And I doubt whether anyone who does not both truly believe in the place of forms and who does not have a highly trained pattern of thought would be able to send their mind out blindly and find it....</p><p></p><p>[The rest of the scroll seems to have been torn off jaggedly, and the bottom roller is missing.]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Orichalcum, post: 1310738, member: 3722"] [b]AI VI: When in Rome Post 9: More Philosophy[/b] While reading this, Wena has sat down on the floor in the open section of the library. Glancing up, halfway through the scroll, she notices a small girl with flaming red hair carefully dusting and stacking scrolls, about twenty feet away. As she reaches up to a higher shelf, the girl’s clean but drab tunic falls back and Wena can see what look like some sort of Celtic tattoo patterns. She gets up and quietly approaches the girl. “Hello, I’m Wena. What’s your name?” “Praecia. Well, that’s what my master calls me.” “Who’s your master?” “Fufidius Priscus, the chief librarian. I clean the scrolls by day and help my mother clean his house and serve food in the evenings.” “What’s your mother’s name?” “Rhysenn.” “And what does your mother call you, young one?” “I’m not supposed to say. It’s a secret.” “You can tell me if you want. I’m a vates; that means that part of my job is to keep secrets. I won’t tell anyone.” The young girl beckons Wena down to her level, and, looking first in both directions, whispers in her ear. “My mommy says my real name is Boadicea!” “That’s a wonderful name. Do you know where it comes from?” Wena, surprised but calm, asks. “Yes, she was a great queen and hero of my mommy’s tribe, the Icky....Icky...” “Iceni. Your mother is of the Iceni, and so are you...and so am I. Your mom must have been captured as a slave in the Iceni rebellion 30 years ago?” Boadicea nods in response. “Look, Boadicea, I have Iceni tattoos, like I think you do. Will you show me your arms?” Wena lifts the sleeve of her robe briefly, to show the complex and intricate spiral patterns of woad long since inked into her skin. Boadicea shyly pulls back her sleeve, to reveal a number of inked on designs that look like a child’s rendering of unfamiliar drawings. “Aren’t they wonderful? Mommy says these make me a real Iceni.” “They’re very good, Boadicea, “ Wena says, trying not to laugh at them, “but I think with my help, we could make them even better. Can I come visit you and your mom sometime?” Boadicea agrees enthusiastically and gives Wena directions to Fufidius Priscus’s house, warning her to use the servants’ entrance. She says that her mother, Rhysenn, will be very happy to meet another Iceni. Meanwhile, Marcus has chatted briefly with the fussy Fufidius and, by flashing around his gold ring of the equites, gotten admission to the restricted section. After searching through for some time, he comes to the interesting conclusion that most of the works on Neoplatonist philosophy and on practical applications of Plato’s ideas have been removed. In fact, only one work even by the former chief librarian, Quintus Herennius, survives, and it has had its lower half mysteriously ripped off. Marcus carefully memorizes the remaining portion in an attempt to glean what useful information he can: [b] On the Practical Application of the Concept of Platonic Forms by Quintus Herennius, Chief Librarian of the Imperial Library of Trajan, with reference to discussions with the most-wise Lysimachus of Chaeronea [/b] Many Greeks, who never in their thousands of years of history did anything useful or productive, argue today that philosophy is merely a mental exercise, designed to enlighten and expand our thoughts. Yet we Romans have a much wiser view, using philosophy as a moral guide by which to live our lives in a more proper and just fashion. We use philosophy to improve the quality of our daily existence, having learned that its precepts may not only inspire our minds but improve our bodies and enable us to manipulate the world around us more successfully. Even this largely wastes the value of philosophical inquiry, in my opinion. For ideally philosophy is a quest for the truth, and just as the natural philosophers have used their wisdom to tell us the paths and patterns of the stars and how the wheat contains all the building blocks of our bones and blood, so too should we use even the most recondite and abstruse of the Greek philosophies to discover solid, useful truths about our world. I will use Plato’s theory of forms as an example in this case, though its connection to our everyday world may seem extreme. For Plato supposes a world where each object or creature has its true Form, and that our world is merely a reflection of that place, with all the distortions and dimness that one sees in a mirror. And while the Greek philosophers deal merely with this place as an abstract concept, I believe that it must actually exist, just as though we cannot perceive directly our strength of body or speed of limbs we know that these exist and can affect them with our minds. I believe that the place of forms is bound and linked to our world although it is not part of our world, much like the pastries one may purchase at the bakers, which have many thin layers which lie over each other to form one entire sweet for children, with only a small space in between each layer for honey or figs. And there are stories that Pythagoras, after long study, was able to bring some of the Forms into our own world, and that this is where he gained his dubious obsession with legumes, after studying and observing the Ideal Bean. But this seems dubious, and more likely the only path between that realm and our own is a mental one. I have tried to stretch out to Plato’s realm of forms with my mind, and on three occasions I believe that I have managed while in a state of quiet repose to glimpse the true realm, and it is most beautiful and sheds much light on what is mysterious in the human soul. Yet my colleagues mock me and say merely that I dozed, and indeed, none of my students have been able to find the realm of forms. And I doubt whether anyone who does not both truly believe in the place of forms and who does not have a highly trained pattern of thought would be able to send their mind out blindly and find it.... [The rest of the scroll seems to have been torn off jaggedly, and the bottom roller is missing.] [/QUOTE]
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