(November 16, 2014 at 10:39 pm)Brian37 Wrote:(November 16, 2014 at 10:08 pm)Lemonvariable72 Wrote: Let me ask this. Have you seen 2 people read a monopoly manual and come up with entirely contradictory ways to play monopoly?No? Me neither.
But then we have holy books. Namely the qur'an and the bible. How come two people can read the qur'an and one turns to be a peaceful and accepting person that thinks his favorite book promotes love and another is making bombs to fulfill gods will? I man god is supposed to be all-knowing, and this was his crucial message to humanity right? Then come a monopoly manual has more clarity?
PS Plato is clearer too, made more complex then the bible.
. But this works to explain the absurdity too. Seems a bit convoluted and inefficient and cruel to write something people argue over and murder over.
Funny you should mention Plato. He used to be my hero until I read the preface to Dawkins "Greatest Show on Earth". Dawkins blames him for how screwed up logic is today and all the political and religious utopia idealism that followed since Plato.
Plato got the "question everything" idea right. But he also postulated the idea of through that mere questioning you could come up with the "essence" of something. He had no way of understanding the importance of control groups and testing and falsification. Religious and political philosophies took that idea of "essence" and ran with it.
Plato i think intended for his ideas to be questioned and remade and advanced and debated by others. Not tuaght as absolute authority like the church did.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
