Being as I am, satisfied with inadequacy – or, shall I say less poignantly, satisfied with meagreness – the lapse today into seeming irregularities or patchiness was the repeated production of my ambling directions and purpose. While reading the Essays of Michel de Montaigne I struck upon one who, much to my complete surprise, was reportedly quoted by the Greek biographer and philosopher Plutarch (c.46 – c.120).
Chrysippus (c.279 – c.206 BC) sought to prove the existence of God, making use of a teleological argument:
If there is anything that humanity cannot produce, the being who produces it is better than humanity. But humanity cannot produce the things that are in the universe – the heavenly bodies, etc. The being, therefore, who produces them is superior to humanity. But who is there that is superior to humanity, except God? Therefore, God exists.
Honestly I cannot say that I am convinced. Without becoming tiresome, allow me to observe only that the existence confounds the production. For example, a seed in the ground produces a flower; but this doesn’t mean one is superior to the other – only that the universe grows out of itself just as each of us navigates from comparative obscurity. Then, as my father was wont to say, “into space”.
Pierre Eyquem (seigneur de Montaigne et de Montravel, né le et mort le , est maire de Bordeaux de 1554 à 1556. Il est le père de Michel de Montaigne) bestowed great care on the education of his children, especially on the practical side of it. To associate closely his son Michel with the people, and attach him to those who stand in need of assistance, he caused him to be held at the font by persons of meanest position; subsequently he put him out to nurse with a poor villager, and then, at a later period, made him accustom himself to the most common sort of living, taking care, nevertheless, to cultivate his mind, and superintend its development without the exercise of undue rigour or constraint.
Excerpt From
Michel de Montaigne, “The Essays of Montaigne — Complete”
Somewhere in this mix I cottoned onto Poseidon, the god of the sea, water, earthquakes, and horses, son of Cronus and Rhea and brother of Zeus.
He is often depicted with a trident in his hand. Roman equivalent Neptune. Once again the Greeks and the Romans compete. For me it is all the same, just more mythical production without the need or accomplishment of superiority – perhaps, dare I say, yet another exemplification of the repeated evolution of thought from identical ingredients (a summary which, though limited, calls upon the limitless boundaries of the universe). Only yesterday while chatting with JS over coffee and cocoa he abruptly asserted with equal aridness that, whether BC or AD, we’re talking about the same thing, based upon identical capital.
This dawdling began early this morning not long after I slipped my socked feet into my shoes. Don’t ask me how, but upon opening my MacBook Pro computer I inadvertently stumbled upon Aeon Essays, in particular an article about a more current competition; namely, that of artificial intelligence and the medical profession. Though I don’t intend to insult the medical profession by equating the strategic competition with that threatened to exist between AI and the legal profession, I can only suggest the two have similarities.
My interest in AI is not contaminated by threat or destruction; nor, to be clear, do I estimate the effect of an alliance between the two differently. I have previously admitted to ignorance in the determination of this issue as it surrounds the encroachment of artificial intelligence upon our lives. So far however my acquaintance with AI has been a welcome and inviting one. In brief, I envision AI as being a ready source of materiality for the often incoherent thoughts of mankind. I won’t say I like all that is offered, for it is still but a dictionary for me, an improvement of scope but nonetheless one requiring examination and critical assessment.
Upon returning home from my little drive I unwittingly submerged within the more expedient issue of our HVAC system. There was no heat. The local mechanical agent materialized and quietly manipulated the complicated device to its intended scope. I was impressed by his mellifluous voice and patient manner. Our thanks too are due to Matt who supervises the entire building and who quietly oversaw the prompt correction.