Socrates in September: The Entanglements of Complexity

Socrates in September: The Entanglements of Complexity

Socrates in September: The Entanglements of Complexity

Socrates in September: The Entanglements of Complexity

Synopsis

Our real world is incondensably complex: many aspects cannot be summarized or abbreviated. How can a philosopher cope with this innate and necessary richness? What types of explanations are available to him? And then, how can we humans live comfortably without always having simple and complete explanations? With the Socratic format and the Socratic times - with the direct human philosophy of Socrates, a philosophy that has not yet been separated from people by the fabricated concepts of relativity and multidimensional spaces and genomic sequences - with only his hands and his feet and with only the trees and hills and clouds about him, Socrates talks with his companions about the simplicities and the complexities of our chocolaty-thick world.

Excerpt

A leaf that's red and brown,
Cold bare branches turning down,
September grades to fall--
And all.

On clear mornings, Socrates
Checks the weather indices,
Backporch meteorograph--
Wind-staff.

The brass barometer is taut;
Last night's moisture being caught
In ombrologic pipes--
Rain stripes.

"A light warm breakfast, I'd advise,
Against these graying autumn skies
With their cirro-stratus floats,"
He notes.

"I've monitored the gentle breeze
Through ancient atmospheric seas,
Mapped the clouds adagio--
Before snow.

"Now, this wisp of old wind here,
Peeking in the window mirror,
To brush and then to disappear--
You hear?

"It came from Homer's golden tongue
One spring--The world was very young
When he gently breathed that word
We've heard. . . ."

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