Tag Archives: grasshopper

Five common realities – facts en logic 15


“I think that we have finished our conversation about the paradox within the mind of the warrior in ourselves too abruptly. Although at an earlier age and in another way, I have known the euphoria of the conqueror. As young girl, I had caught a grasshopper in a matchbox. I felt an unknown joy; I would never be lonely any-more, because I would always have a companion in my life. When I had shaken the box, I could hear my grasshopper. The next morning the grasshopper was death. This was my first real loss in my life; herewith I lost my innocence: this started my decay. When I look at the Palace of the Medici, I am reminded of my matchbox”, says Carla.

Feiten en logica 15a.jpg[1]

“I had read somewhere that the family of de Medici – after a short exile from Florence – had wished to use its influence behind the scenes in the 15e centurary and purposely had wished to have a low profile to the outside world. The outside of this palace – build in commission of Cosimo de Medice – shows this strive [2]”, says Man

Carla, Man and Narrator enter the palace.

“In the 15th century the well-off in Florence were aware of the periodic floods of the Arno River, therefore they had their living areas on the first floor. This palace resembles the Ark of Noah [3] from the book Genesis in the Old Testament. In this palace an image was available of all wealth and of everything of value within the de Medici family. Everything in this Palace is a miniature reflection and a reminder of the conquests of the family in the outside world. When the tide goes well, then the reflection and the memory will be brought back into reality. This Palace shows the inner world of the family in all its wishes and with all its expectations”, says Narrator.

feiten en logica 15b.[4]

“In this hall Luca Giordano [5], the aspiration of the familiy – displayed within this palace – shows God-like traits. The paintings on the ceiling of this hall resemble the ceiling paintings in the churches of this city.

feiten en logica 15c.[6]

The second dynasty of the Medici family is depicted by the painter Luca Giordano as a mirror image of the heaven wherein Cosimo de Medici – as the Central father-god – enthrones above his two sons and his brother. Here shows the inner of the prevailing “warrior” the ambition to at least match the Christian Divine Trinity, if not to take the place of God”, says Man.

feiten en logica 15d.[7]

“That is evident. At the height of his power, a warrior feels invincible and supreme: the warrior evades the world of mortals; the warrior can conquer the whole world. At the same time, the world of the warrior is dehumanised; care for the environment and the empathy for living beings and humans disappears. A state of euphoria – a perception of uniqueness and omnipotence, self-centredly focused on the warrior, his compagnons and the world for which they exist – arises. This state of euphoria can be recognised within Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa when they shot arrows with joy at everything that tried to escape from the fire in the Khandava forest, within you Narrator when you as a young warrior with a militia in Central Africa shot at everyone who tried to escape from a burning village, and within Karl Marlantes [8] when he – as lieutenant at the American Marines during the Vietnam war – let the air forces drop napalm on the jungle with Vietcong fighters [9]. ” says Carla.

feiten en logica 15e.[10]

“”The hel are the others” [11], had Jean-Paul Sartre written in one of his plays, maybe also because the others limit the warrior in his omnipotence – and thereby in his freedom”, says Man.

“You explain my feelings of joy and exhileration during the shooting at all and everyone who tried to escape from the burning village very well. But after this euphoria I felt shame and fathomless emptiness. In the first part of our Odyssee to “Who are you” [12] – at the description of the Peloponnesische war – we noticed on on-going cycle of honour/power – pride – wrath – revenge [13] among the parties concerned. In my experience we must add to this cycle “shame and emptiness” that simultaneously is an antipode to honour and power. In the time of my forefathers, the combatants in the old India took their spoils of conquest – usually stolen cattle within the cattle cycle – to their home village. There the loot was shared with everyone during a big feast. Showing the victory to the world was more important for the warriors than the victory itself [15]. After the feast an emptiness began to arise together with an emerging shame about aimlessness. With honour/power as antipode to this emptiness/shame, an urge arose for new conquests to confirm and maintain the inner and outer ego of the warriors. The conquest – or wealth in our time – creates at the same time an emptiness and a lack of something. Wealth creates a lack of richness that is not yet conquered. This hall reminds the living warriors within the family de Medici to the worldly riches which they must defend and expand, and to the richness of the Godlike Kingdom of Heaven that they still do not possess”, says Narrator.

“In this reasoning lies a truth. The decline begins after a conquest, because there is something to defend; the imperator must always conquer more for safeguard what he already owns. From the possession of wealth arises the need for more lasting wealth; also the imperator is subject to the law of nature called “greedy little pig”. Is there a difference between men and women?”, says Man.

“There is a study on the role of women in Mahābhārata. In the Mahābhārata a warrior only acquires immortal fame when fallen on the battlefield at the time women mourn him in shrill cries and weep over his life boasting his former beautiful appearance [16]. The women of the warrior caste put their men into action; the warriors are monomaniacal executors of the wishes of their women. When all warriors are deceased within the Kshatriya caste, the women go to the Brahmins to procreate new warriors. Women have their own role in the mind of the warrior”, says Narrator.

“Don’t we all have a role within the mind of the warrior? What do you think of the Gods and the Bodhisattvas?”, asks Carla.

“Also they, also we”, says Man.

“That is true. Shall we tomorrow – on our last day in Florence – visit Palazzo Pitti where the family of de Medici showed its splendour and magnificence to the outside world”, says Narrator.


[1] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palazzo_Medici_Riccardi

[2] Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palazzo_Medici_Riccardi

[3] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noah%27s_Ark

[4] Source image: http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palazzo_Medici_Riccardi

[5] See also: http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galleria_di_Luca_Giordano

[6] Source image: http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palazzo_Medici_Riccardi

[7] The Apotheosis of the Medici: Cosimo III sat central between his two sons and his brother below him, Palazzo Medici-Riccardi. Source image: http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galleria_di_Luca_Giordano

[8] Source: Marlantes, Karl, What it is like to go to war. London: Corvus, 2012 p. 40 – 41

[9] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viet_Cong

[10] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Napalm

[11] In the play “Huis clos”. See also: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean-Paul_Sartre

[12] See also: Origo, Jan van, Who are you – a survey into our existence – part 1. Amsterdam: Omnia – Amsterdam Publisher, 2012, p. 200 – 209

[13] See: Lendon, J.E., Song of Wrath – the Peloponnesian war begins. New York: Basic Books, 2010 p. 9

[14] See cattle-cycle in: Origo, Jan van, Who are you – a survey into our existence – part 1. Amsterdam: Omnia – Amsterdam Publisher, 2012

[15] See also a contemporary observation by Hannah Ahrendt in: Keen, David, Useful Enemies – When waging wars is more important than winning them. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, p. 9

[16] Source: McGrath, Kevin, STR Women in Epic Mahābhārata. Cambridge: Ilex Foundation, 2009, p 25

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Carla Drift – Looking back at my innocence


Before we started the quest for “Who are you”, I told Narrator in a few words about my youth – the years of my innocence.

“There was once a girl that was so clever that everywhere she was an outlier. She surpassed all the knowledge of her environment. This girl was so wise to show this special gift to nobody. Very soon she discovered that this gift completely confused her environment. Now and then she showed a glimpse whereof she thought.

In elementary school children learned to add, multiply and divide. This girl already calculated in the infinite or in the uncountable as she called it. Countable was all that fitted within a box of the “knowable”. Hereby she thought about the matchbox in which she formerly had caught a grasshopper.

[1]

When the class learned to count until ten, the content of the Matchbox was ten for her. For the class innumerable was at that time “ten plus one”. When the class learned to count until one hundred, from then on countable was one hundred; “hundred and one” was innumerable and so on as far as the classmates could count.

The countable and therefore the knowable grew along with the knowledge of the classroom and the innumerable became bigger and bigger. This girl learned that the countable – so the content of the matchbox “L” – changed along the changes of the environment. The uncountable was then still “L+1”. This girl started to add the countable, so when for the class L was equal to ten, the girl decided to place ten matchboxes in a row: for her “10 times L” was equal to one hundred; infinite was then ten matchboxes plus 1. She placed hundred matchboxes in a row and “hundred times 10” or “1000” was countable and infinite was “hundred boxes plus 1”. She did the same with boxes that were getting smaller like Russian dolls. Infinitesimal was one size smaller than the smallest knowable.

[2]

And zero was an empty table without any box or doll. She wrote this as “O”. This was very easy for her.

For simplicity, this girl decided to write the infinite as “L + 1”; This was equal to the largest box plus one or the greatest number of knowable boxes plus 1.

Now this girl was so far that she saw infinitely – or L + 1 – as a matchbox of all knowable plus one. She began in the first class of primary school to calculate with the infinite, which was also an outlier that fell outside the knowable. For infinite the same rules applied, but it the infinite was still outside the knowable of the others: in this way she remained in touch with arithmetic lessons of her classmates. The ordinary multiplication tables were applicable for the infinite and normal division rules applied to the division of the infinite – a piece of cake. Increases the knowable and the infinite is just slightly larger; decrease the smallest knowable and the infinitesimal small is just slightly smaller.

According to her the infinite or L + 1 was the evidence for the existence of God on the Catholic primary school. God could adopt all dimensions depending on the circumstances required, but God himself was larger than the knowable so he remained all encompassing. If the changes increased rapidly, God also increased quickly and vice versa. And because God was all encompassing or L + 1, God took the required form immediately. In this way the girl derived and integrated in the second class of elementary school. The most beautiful thing was that God was no foreigner, he was also an outlier just like her. God made woman and man (as knowable) like his image – also the outliers like her were created like his image. She made the knowable slightly larger because she was an outlier. Later she adjusted her view on God.

In the second class of elementary school she read in a book from the library – that was smuggled through her father – about primes. she decided to look at primes as matchboxes for calculation purposes. According to her new calculation method the core numbers were L, 2L, 3l, 5l, 7l, 11l, 13L, 17L, 19L and so on as primes. With these primes all known matchboxes could be created [3].

In the fourth grade of elementary school she saw in the library at the Department of mathematics a book on Gödel. In this book she read Gödel’s two incompleteness theorems [4]. She borrowed this book via her father. By naming L + 1 she already knew the first incompleteness theorem and with her new calculation method – whereby she used the core numbers L, 2 L, 3 l, 5 l, 7 l, 17 l, 11L, 13L, 19L according to the sequence of primes – she saw immediately the second incompleteness theorem; we can never prove the whole arithmetic L because there will be always a L + 1. This evidence is a piece of cake.

She purposely made a few mistakes in long divisions [5] in order to appear normal.

In the fifth and sixth class of primary school a new schoolmaster let her read the book “Cosmic View, The Universe in 40 Jumps” by Kees Boeke. With her father she studied astronomy and microscopy. She calculated the Kepler orbits on her own. In a course mechanics within theoretical physics [6] at the University of Technology in Delft, she saw these calculations again. One of the two authors was an outlier [7] in the field of mathematics and physics.”

[8]

After this brief description of my years of innocence in elementary school, Narrator and I decided to start the quest “Who are you” together. During the preparations we invited Man Leben – after the death of his second life companion – to go along. He accepted the invitation “With hope and consolation”.


[1] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Match

[2] Source image: http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fichier:Floral_matryoshka_set_1.JPG

[3] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prime_number

[4] See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G%C3%B6del%27s_incompleteness_theorems

[5] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Long_division

[6] See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Course_of_Theoretical_Physics

[7] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lev_Landau

[8] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Course_of_Theoretical_Physics

Carla Drift – Early Years


The history of my ancestors is shrouded in mystery. My uncle made the pedigree of my mother’s family until the time of Napoleon, before that date nothing can be found on paper. My father’s family made no effort for a pedigree, because his family is closely linked with the three families that have lived for more than 1000 years in our village. The village exists more than a thousand years, but some 1000 years ago the village is mentioned in a deed. And if it is officially stated on paper, than it exists according to the people in my village.

[1]

My mother does not come from our village. She will never fully belong in our village, although she lives here more than 50 years. She will always remain Belgium – or “Belsh” as they say in our village. Due to this, we – my two sisters and I – also remain mavericks in our village. At our home everything is little different; by my mother, we have many Belgian habits in our family. In the beginning I had trouble to understand my mother’s family: they speak a Flemish dialect between each other. Even if they speak a kind of Dutch to me, I could I not follow them. Now I’m older and I have no trouble with their tongue; by many travel Flemish became very familiar. Now I know their way of living; it has a certain charm – closed to the outside and warm inside.

My father and mother got to know each other in the 1950s by chance. Two normal, young and kind people have met and started to love each other – and they still do. After a few year courtship, they married and soon we – the three sisters – were born. My first memory is the birth of my oldest sister. I was almost 2 years old. Suddenly everything was strange in our house and that night when I called for my mother, she did not come. Then many, many other memories arose. At the birth of my second sister when I was three years old, I felt a real mother for her. I was well able to take care for my youngest sister; my mother thought otherwise. Our first generation conflict had arisen.

In the kindergarten it soon became clear that I was different: I could learn far too well. I soon noticed that it was not wise to show it. Reading was still nothing for normal girls in the kindergarten. Unnoticed I read old children’s books of my mother at home.

In that time I had caught a grasshopper. That evening it sat in a matchbox on the night-stand next to my bed. As I shook the box, I heard it jumping. For always I would have company of my grasshopper. The next morning it was dead. My father and I burried it officially in the garden. This was my first real farewell.

In elementary school I played hide and seek with the teachers. I did not think it wise to show how easy I could learn. The master in the second class had a magnificent collection of butterflies from Indonesia. He was drafted there as soldier: about the fights he told nothing. Later, much later I understood that there were about 95,000 Dutch soldiers in Indonesia: 2500 soldiers have not survived this conflict [2]. This number corresponds to almost a third of the graves at the military war cemetery in Margraten. It was no police action, but a real war. The number of victims among the inhabitants of Indonesia is many times higher. After the second world war, Holland wished to retain this colony for its prosperity; the joy of life of my schoolmaster was sacrificed for this aim. As a girl of 7 years old, I saw that razor sharp.

[3]

I also played hide and seek with my mother. I could count very quickly. Counting is addition and subtraction of numbers. I never had to learn the multiplication tables: I could add 9 times 8 in a flash. When shopping with my mother, I could add the final amount at once. As a girl of 6 years old I saw at once when my mother received the incorrect exchange money. A discussion about a difference of a few pennies with the shopkeeper and my mother is not wise for a child of 6 years old. Since that time I only intervened when the differences were large.

I was the oldest of three sisters. I thought it was natural that I had a better overview about everything and I could be their second mother. At that time I did not notice that I could learn so much easier than my two younger sisters. My sisters are normal happy people who married in our village. They still live there with their families.

Every Saturday I went with my father to the library in a larger town. The librarian chose for me small book to read and my father chose the books to read to me. He chose in the second class of elementary school “Letter for the King” written by Tonke Dragt. I did not look at the books selected by the librarian for me. The books to be read to me, I read myself – Tiuri the page in Letter for the King was my hero. My father was asked why he read so much to me. My father said that he only read out the first pages. That was absolutely right: I read the rest on my own. Hide-and-seek again.


[1] Picture of a village in South-Limburg. Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vijlen_(Limburg)

[2] Source: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Politionele_acties

[3] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bestand:Greta_oto.jpg