Hypatia of Alexandria and NASA

Originally posted on materialism, mysticism and art:

Rachel Weisz as Hypatia in 'Agora'

Rachel Weisz as Hypatia in ‘Agora’

The NASA website, appropriately and to their credit, has a page on the Neoplatonist Hypatia.

The text states:

‘Sixteen hundred years ago, Hypatia became one of the world’s leading scholars in mathematics and astronomy. Hypatia’s legendary knowledge, modesty, and public speaking ability flourished during the era of the Great Library of Alexandria. Hypatia is credited with contributions to geometry and astrometry, and she is thought instrumental in the development of the sky-measuring astrolabe. “Reserve your right to think, for even to think wrongly is better than not to think at all,” Hypatia is credited with saying. “To teach superstitions as truth is a most terrible thing.'”

If only the scientists at NASA were to study and understand Hypatia’s philosophy and developments on it by others, particularly Hegel and then Marx and Engels, who stood it on its feet in a material world, they would…

View original 134 more words

So much for Arendt’s ‘banality of evil’

Originally posted on materialism, mysticism and art:


‘This Adolf too was a Nazi piece of work’ Anna Heyward’s review of Bettina Stangneth’s Eichmann Before Jerusalem: the Unexamined Life of a Mass Murderer, Trans., Ruth Martin, Scribe, 2014, The Weekend Australian Review, November 15-16, 2014

Adolf Eichmann, SS Obersturmbannfuhrer, was one of the Nazis primarily responsible for the mass deportation and murder of European Jews between 1939 and 1945.

After the Allied victory he went into hiding, first in Austria, where he farmed eggs, and later in Argentina, where he lived with his wife and children as part of Juan Peron’s community of Nazi sympathisers.

Eichmann was absent from the Nuremberg war crimes trials and came to be known as “the Nuremberg ghost”. In 1960, he was kidnapped by a Mossad team and taken to Israel, where he was put on trial in 1961. Most observers of the trial noted that he showed no remorse and…

View original 606 more words


Originally posted on Roxi St. Clair:


I am but a feather…
and the wind is my journey.

© Roxi St. Clair

View original



There’s never been an age of reason.
Loneliness marched upon us
as ashes thrown back upon
fields of blood soaked memories
of ungrateful departed…

Loneliness doesn’t reason;
it just sinks thought and unthought
requiems of undreamed nightmares…

The day our consciousness
became attached to reason,
another age was born:

the age of treason…

War Crime or War Winner? The Truth about the Bomb

Originally posted on materialism, mysticism and art:

From Murray Sayle, ‘War crime or war winner? The Truth about the Bomb,’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 15.07.95

…the head of the Manhattan Project, Major-General Leslie Groves, a determined military man feeling responsible for spending $2 billion on the bomb and worried that the war might end first, at that point was pushing strenuously for its immediate use. When Leo Szilard, who had drafted Albert Einstein’s letter to President Roosevelt warning of a German bomb six years earlier, drew up a scientists’ petition opposing the use of the atom bomb against Japanese cities, Groves had the petition classified top secret, thus restricting its impact to a tiny circle….Szilard’s petition got as far as Groves’s office, where it stayed. …

What did the first atom bombs achieve? Well, it will be instantly answered, they ended the war, didn’t they, and so saved many lives – the estimates vary from 50,000…

View original 1,459 more words

Flower, alone…


No one came to my funeral.
They came to say goodbye,
to mourn, to cry…
Dressed in black like crows
awaiting patiently until the first worms
shall make their way from underneath my skin.
Yes, they came,
but not to my funeral.
There was I,
alone, dressed in black like a monstrous raven,
nested uncomfortably amongst shiny cushions
filled with cheap fibre; hollow fibre…
They all came in the end;
where were they when I needed them most?
When all my innermosts were screaming
for anything to ease the pain of screaming
in vain?
There alone, blind, wrapped in blood,
so unlike the orgasm which conceived me…
Dumb little sucker,
tossed around like a bushel of cheap meat…
Nope, no one came that day.
They were busy with their own funerals and stuff;
except for the dying ones, themselves.

They’re all here today;
adorned with cheap, dead flowers,
choir of drunk undertakers
digging the last trenches of dignity.

Photo by Wikipedia

Don’t wonder…

Liberty of Thinking:

I couldn’t have said it better myself…

Originally posted on What comes to my mind...:


View original