759
© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021
M. C. Tobias, J. G. Morrison, On the Nature of Ecological Paradox,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-64526-7_85
Chapter 85
The Final Hermitage of Ideals
85.1 One Night in a Pub, Nine-Hundred Years Ago
Like the word evolution, our idea of comfort with all of its trappings - agreeable
habiliments, etc. - we all know to be a short-lived flash in the psyche. The great hope
for peace and personal easement is lodged within an ecological exclusion benefiting our transient moment on earth, upon a fine mattress, swathed in clean Egyptian
cotton sheeting. Arguments against such equanimity or biosymmetry or any theoryspecific, in which biologic variables have apotheosized competition into precocious
settlement for our one species, read much like the portraitures of a sublime waterfall, or Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s splendid solitude, or the canons of the lives of
a Sir Walter Browne, or Marcus Aurelius—equanimities, from time to time, of a
Baconian universe, or the epiphanies of Epictetus and his followers.
The first folio of Shakespeare, the illuminations of the incandescent Safavid
Dynasty painter Sultan-Muhammad, also mirrors the astonished, inherently tenable
coordination that so many masterpieces have in common under the aegis of—call it
the wisdom that percolates to the core of survival and there renames it—something
that has nothing to do with survival.
Or think of it only in the tone of whispers, echoes, and some axioms that are
intimated by that which we know nothing of, like the centuries-old builders of
Chartres Cathedral, their day-in grime and dinner conversations. In other words,
immutable, humble gestures of human life that surpass those many social zones of
plus or minus in the decoding of inexplicables. Deep biography that encompasses
all those partaking on any given night in a pub 900 years ago.
By all accounts neither the Tao nor the breath, the inner vision or exquisite proof
(conventional proofs) can grasp even the elementary particles, waves, or moonlight
that has invested this perfect retreat of a concept with the ultimate hermitage of ideals, seated at Ashikaga Yoshimasa’s writing table at Ginkaku-ji in Renaissance
Kyoto, or those spellbinding moments during the finale of “The Marriage of Figaro”
when something altogether unrelated to anything else occurs at the exact instant that
we feel connected to our humanity.
© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2021
M. C. Tobias, J. G. Morrison, On the Nature of Ecological Paradox,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-64526-7_85
Chapter 85
The Final Hermitage of Ideals
85.1 One Night in a Pub, Nine-Hundred Years Ago
Like the word evolution, our idea of comfort with all of its trappings - agreeable
habiliments, etc. - we all know to be a short-lived flash in the psyche. The great hope
for peace and personal easement is lodged within an ecological exclusion benefiting our transient moment on earth, upon a fine mattress, swathed in clean Egyptian
cotton sheeting. Arguments against such equanimity or biosymmetry or any theoryspecific, in which biologic variables have apotheosized competition into precocious
settlement for our one species, read much like the portraitures of a sublime waterfall, or Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s splendid solitude, or the canons of the lives of
a Sir Walter Browne, or Marcus Aurelius—equanimities, from time to time, of a
Baconian universe, or the epiphanies of Epictetus and his followers.
The first folio of Shakespeare, the illuminations of the incandescent Safavid
Dynasty painter Sultan-Muhammad, also mirrors the astonished, inherently tenable
coordination that so many masterpieces have in common under the aegis of—call it
the wisdom that percolates to the core of survival and there renames it—something
that has nothing to do with survival.
Or think of it only in the tone of whispers, echoes, and some axioms that are
intimated by that which we know nothing of, like the centuries-old builders of
Chartres Cathedral, their day-in grime and dinner conversations. In other words,
immutable, humble gestures of human life that surpass those many social zones of
plus or minus in the decoding of inexplicables. Deep biography that encompasses
all those partaking on any given night in a pub 900 years ago.
By all accounts neither the Tao nor the breath, the inner vision or exquisite proof
(conventional proofs) can grasp even the elementary particles, waves, or moonlight
that has invested this perfect retreat of a concept with the ultimate hermitage of ideals, seated at Ashikaga Yoshimasa’s writing table at Ginkaku-ji in Renaissance
Kyoto, or those spellbinding moments during the finale of “The Marriage of Figaro”
when something altogether unrelated to anything else occurs at the exact instant that
we feel connected to our humanity.