Dialogue on Metaphysics: Pre-Socratic through Stoics

by JEANNE LEONARD

      Well here I amÑat the door, about to ring the bell. Better put my name tag on so everybody will know who I am. Crazy fool, Plato, spelled my name wrong. He wrote 'Epicetetus.' Of course, I don't care. I never expect anything of anyone, even a great mind like Plato. It's much easier not to have any expectationsÑno one can ever live up to them.
       Anyway, Plato's probably tired from planning this thing he's calling a 'Christmas Party.' He sent a little note accompanying my invitation. He confided that he feels it a moral obligation to get all of us together and reveal this place he calls the "Realm of the Forms". He says we've all got our notions of reality confused, and the only reality is in the "Realm of the Forms". All matter on earthÑall the trees, books, chairs; and even all intelligible stuff (as he calls it), like emotions or conceptsÑ things we encounter daily aren't real!!  He says that everything we see (trees, grass, chairs, sensible stuff) hear, taste, feel or think about (love, peace, rightness or wrongness) are only a copy of their perfect model. Nothing in front of us is realÑ only an imitation! The trees, bushes etc. are simply imperfect renditions of the one tree or one bush that "lives" only in the Realm of the Forms! Plato says he now lives in this Realm, and has been able to confirm his whole explanation of reality. By throwing this huge party and bringing all philosophers together he can reveal to us his Realm of the Forms simultaneously.I guess he told me all this because he knows I won't ga upset. I don't care either way.
       Heraclitus seems to have a much better handle on what reality is: constant conflict. I once heard him say that reality was like a "bow ready strung but not in use. As it leans against the wall, one sees no movement, and thinks of it as a static object, completely at rest. But in fact a continuous tug-of-war is going on within it, as will become evident if the string perishes. The bow will immediately take advantage, snap and leap to stretch itself The basis of equilibrium is struggle, which is therefore good in itself, since it is the source of life."
       What a genius Heraclitus is! I couldn't have said it better. Of course reality is simply conflict, like fire. Heraclitus always said fire was symbolic of the world: though it looks steady and unchangingÑthat it burns by "consuming, destroying and constantly changing in its material." He is rightÑthe universe is ruled by fire. And because the universe, as I see it, is a rational animal (fire causes intdligence), then human beings are rational animals like their universe. Oh, I could go on! But enough! I must enter and say my "hellos." If Heraclitus happens to be here I may talk with him, but I'm not hopeful since it may not happen.
       "Hello, Epictetus! Good to finally see you here! ~It's me, PychagorasÑI've lost my name tag already. Pardon? Oh, that one out in the snow is Thales. He's absolutely mesmerized by water in a semi-solid state! He's still trying to convince everybody who walks by that the whole world is made of water. He thinks most things are sustained by water, and since semen, too, is moist, that this is evidence enough to prove that water is the cause of all things. Helpless nut! I'm surprised he didn't corner you!       
			"I'm glad I ran into you, though. I'd like to try some ideas out on you. I know you're partial to Heraclitus and all that fire stuff, but I think you're really selling this cosmos short. What? Yes, 'cosmos' is what I said. That's what I call the universe. This cosmos we live in isn't as crazy as you think, Epictetus. There is order to it. I know you may think it's all just constant change and chaos, but you're so wrong! The chaos has a limit, and that limit causes organization and beauty. ConsiderÑnight turns into day, winter into spring. The cosmos is just like music if you impose limit on pure sound, you're able to bring beauty out of disharmony. 'Inherent order of a numerical organization exists within sound itself.' So, too, the cosmos must have limit after all, it is beautiful, whole and united, and that can only come from limit.
       "What's that you say?... Anaximander?... Well yes, he too refers to the seasons when explaining his reality. But sir, his is nothing like mine. That Anaximander, he talks of warring forces (hot and cold, wet and dry). He says that they're part of a cycle where one dement is constantly replacing the other. But that man is ignorant of the differences benveen quality and substance. He thinks that once something becomes cold, then it is cold itselfÑas if cold were a thing. (By Zeus, I sound like Plato!)
       "The worst part of Anaximander is his theory about humans evolving from fish! That the whole cosmos is made of rings with wet and cold earth at the center, surrounded by rings of mist and then of fire. The cold, wet at the center was dried by the fire and became slime. He says fish arose out of the slime, and humans came from the fish!
       "Then he says this whole cosmos sits on nothingi it doesn't fall simply because it can't make it's mind up on which way it should fall. What a bunch of nonsense!"  Well sir, I see that all of my talk is falling on deaf ears! Oh! You never react to anything, Epictetus! Here comes Parmenides. He's got a quarrel with you, maybe he can get you excited! 
			"Merry Chrisunas, dear Epictetus!"
 	 	"Excuse me, what was that you said, Parmenides?"
      "Oh, everyone's saying it. Seems 'Christmas' is a sort of holiday. Plato picked up some book called the Bible, and it had this tale of a virgin giving birth to some god or something. Anyway, everybody believed this, and now they call the birth day of this god 'Christmas.' The tree? Yeah, I thought it odd. Symbolizes something. Anyway, Socrates tracked down this virginÑher name's Mary, and he's trying to get her to explore 'What is Virginity?' with him, but Anaximenes, Empedodes and Anaxagotas won't let him get a word in edgewise. They think if she knows a god then she must have answers. Anaximenes is asking if air is truly the primary substance of the universe; Empedodes (who's mad as hell at me right now about some 'empty space' issue) insists that love and strife are the basis of all things; and Anaxagoras is off on some silly tangent about the mind ruling the world, and all that is not matter must be the mint. He's ranting on that the mind brings order out of confusion! Sounds a lot like Pythagoras to me.
			 "Anyway, Epictetus, that's not what I want to talk to you about.
       "As you know, I'm quite certain that this universe is one mass of solid, unmoving matter. Nothing changes; there is no motion. ConsiderÑif something changes, it becomes what it is not. You see, Epictetus, I've always said that 'what is is and what is not is not.' My whole concept of the universe is based on the idea that something cannot become what it is notÑit either is or it isn't. I know that I don't need to explain this to you, thoughÑyou've incorporated it beautifully into your own moral life. You say you make 'judgements.' You attest that you can't control specific situations, but can control your attitudes over the situations. Sir, what you're really saying what is not, is not. You say you're not unhappy or frustrated over accidents 
because you're notÑright?"
      "No, dear Parmenides, you are a silly fool. You must wear a dunce cap and sit in the corner. Your logic is flawed. You say 'is' is synonymous with 'exists.' If this were the case, it would render the following 'frustration exists because it exists; frustration does not exist because frustration does not exist'. This is nonsense. If I denied my frustration based on this argument, I would sound like a liar. I would virtually be saying to myself that the feeling I'm having (frustration) does not exist because it does not exist. By saying it didn't exist, I would be recognizing the 'non-existing' feeling. Feelings can't come out of nowhere. If I'm suddenly overcome with frustratdon and say the frustration is not really in existence because the frustratdon is not, I would be like a child holding my breath to avoid the conflict of dealing with the matter at hand (my frustration). Parmenides, I must leave you, you are irritating me!"
       If only I could find decent conversadon. You'd think it would be possible in a room full of philosophers, but it seems everyone is so angry at each other. My good friend Heraclitus is off randng about how Plato's party offends him because there is a mini-nativity scene (some freeze-dried reenactment of that virgin story) that hints at a bigger, actual nativity scene somewhere else which, for Heraclitus, is too suggestive of the Realm of the Forms. He even thinks that the mini-lights on the tree insinuate that there are bigger, more perfect lights. Heraclitus thinks Plato made the whole 'Christmas' concept up for his own benefit.
       Ah, there's just the person I was looking for! Aristotle. He's with Democritus. This ought to be good. It appears to be an argument.
       "...dear Democritus, if what you say is true, how is it that we can say what an acorn will become? To rely on mere chance of atoms colliding, is to never say with certainty what anything will become." 
      "Aristode, I'm saying you cannot deny the existence of tiny litde particles floating in the air. They are atoms: solid, and unseen be seen by the human eye. When many of them collide they form what we know to be matter. They take on many different patterns: hard matter has its atoms closely packed; soft matter loosdy packed. Because these atoms move about, this proves there must be empty space (proving Parmenides wrong for the fifth time!)." So, Aristotle, you can have your oak trees. I don't say that they cannot come from acorns, I..."
       "Wait a minute! If matter is the result of the chance collision of atoms, you most certainly are saying dhat the acorn doesn't have the potentiality of the oak tree already in it. Democritus, there must be more order! All things have their purpose within them: the acorn already has the 'blueprints' of an oak tree widhin it. Everything has a formal cause, the thing 'into which' it will become. Even artificial objects have a formal cause, although the potentiality usually is not within the artificial matter. Artificial matter, like steel, doesn't 'know' it is going to become a sword. It could just as easily become a shield. But acorns, poppy seeds... All natural things have their potential within them. The acorn 'knows' it will be an oak tree; the poppy seed 'knows' it will be a poppy. The poppy and the oak tree already exist within those seeds because the oak tree and the poppy came before the seeds. While these seeds grow, thq are becoming what they are [actually] going to be.
       "You see, Democritus, I don't believe that things are the product of chance. Everything, whether it be artificial or natural, has an efflcient cause: it comes from something or someone. Acorns come from oak trees The sword is made in a black smith's shop.
       "Besides having an efficient cause, all natural and artificial things have material causes tooÑor the stuff that they're made of (the oak tree, wood; the sword, steel). And all things have a final cause, or a purpose. The acorn's purpose is to be an oak tree; the sword's purpose is to cut and chop. Democritus, the universe is very orderlyÑnot just happenstance."
       "Oh, by Zeus, Aristotle, you're impossible. I'm not entirely against you. How I wish dear Epicurus would have shown up. He could've expounded on my theory. He, too, is an atomist. Of oourse, he would probably harp on all that silliness about the very first atoms swerving to form matter instead of moving straight downward. He refuses to go out in public any more, lest his tranquility be jeopardized."
       Plato is interrupting, saying that it's time for the imperfect turkey dinner. Pythagoras is shouting that he only eats meat substitutes; Thales says he needs to go to the hospital for possible frost bite; Heraditus is staring at the Christmas tree lights because every time one goes out another lights upÑconvinced his strife argument is confirmed. Someone told Anaximander about Santa Claus, so he's dumping water into the already damp fireplace, convinced that soon the wetness would've turned to heat and then possibly fire. it's got him very worried.
       Such chaos as this is a convincing argument for my point!