This is NOT Over
Here is a life in desperate need of a rimshotJune 06, 2012
Wed June 6, 1990
Unmentionables
Woke up and drank coffee with
Danny. Helped him load up his car with
laundry and other shit he was taking back to Joliet. As soon as he left I called Megs.
Another great Intro to
Political Philosophy class with Frisch. We are going to spend a great deal of time on
the Apology, but Mr. Frisch is encouraging all of us to read the Clouds
first. Just knowing the critique exists
is a start, but understanding the character of this and other critiques of
Socrates helps the modern reader remove themselves from contemporary
interpretations and prejudices regarding Socrates.
I notice that Mr. Frisch and
others say “Plato’s Socrates” or “Xenohon’s Socrates” and I think I have more
of a sense of what is meant when they say that.
As far as Aristophanes’ play and its Socrates, Mr. Frisch explained that
many 19th Century philologists would have us believe that the Clouds
is a critique of the sophists and that the poet uses the name “Socrates” as the
sophist par excellence. But there is no
reason to believe that to be true at all.
Protagoras, Gorgais, and
other names I can’t remember or can’t spell were known sophists. Aristophanes did not choose their names for
this play. He chose Socrates. He chose the name of someone who, at least
according to other dialogues, seemed to be engaged in activities and a
lifestyle different from those of the sophists.
Socrates did not except pay for teaching. He was poor and walked around barefoot. The Socrates in the Clouds, in many ways,
resembles the Socrates depicted in the works of Plato and Xenophon and neither
of those authors are thought to use the name “Socrates” as a way of criticizing
the sophists. Why should we think
Aristophanes is criticizing the sophists with his Socrates?
That is a good question.
Megs met me at Founders after
class in her mom’s Town Car. I asked
her, “What’s Gina driving?”
“She has one of Grandpa’s
cars.”
Went back to Danny’s place
and found his stash…of Coco Pebbles and chocolate milk. Ok, Megs found it. Danny’s mistake. You should never leave stuff like that where
sugar junkies can get their goddamned hands on it. But eating all that chocolate made this day
so much fun for Megs and me. At one
point we were running around the apartment, chasing each other and laughing
like some old timey, penny arcade movie where boys and girls chase each other
but no one ever fucks. Megs took my
backpack and started throwing stuff around.
Then she found the Everett “Relative State” paper.
MRZ: “Do you know what this is?”
Me: “I don’t understand that much of it.”
MRZ: “Then why do you have
it?”
Me: “People can have things they don’t
understand. It’s a free country.”
MRZ: “They can have stuff
like this if they have a place to keep it.”
Me: “I have the backpack.”
Then she talked about the
equations, not so much in a way that I could understand how they represent the
realities and mysteries of the very small, but why this representation is
important, why the model they seek to correct needs correction and that both
the mysteries of the very big and very small are still only poetic descriptions
of our fate in terms of what happens to the universe as a result of gravity
either finally pulling everything back together, or gravity become so weak
everything fades into eternal emptiness (the study of all life in terms of the
very big, the universe as a whole and heavenly bodies and their motion); and
also how the specific equations in the Hugh Everett’s paper suggest the many
fates of individuals in terms of outcomes, how all matter and even beings obey
the same laws as electrons whose definite position in the universe may be
difficult not to say impossible to measure by conventional means.
Sure, a lot of what she said
may have been bullshit, but I was a willing audience and loved hearing her talk
this much.
We got so drunk at Matthew
Boone’s we forgot to order dinner. I am
so glad we came there on a night Marnie was not working. I might’ve been rude. I don’t even think I need to move back there
at this point. The Summer Conference
Center job starts Monday and housing said my room would be ready the Friday
before.
We did all sorts of stuff
back at Danny’s place and then spread out on his couch in our unmentionables. At one point I think Megs asked, “Could you
change the channel darling?”
Nobody’s ever called me
darling. I am pretty sure Megs never
used the word in her life. Maybe it was
an ironic darling.
posted by edP # 9:24 AM 
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