Value for Saturday of Week 28 in the season of Ripening

Praxis

Knowledge builds on knowledge, from generation to generation.

  • If I have seen further, it is only by standing on the shoulders of giants. [Isaac Newton]
  • . . . there is one thing we do know: that man is here for the sake of other men —above all for those upon whose smile and well-being our own happiness depends, and also for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day I realize how much my own outer and inner life is built upon the labors of my fellowmen, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received. My peace of mind is often troubled by the depressing sense that I have borrowed too heavily from the work of other men. [Albert Einstein]

Why can doctors today cure diseases that doctors a century ago did not even understand? Why can engineers, working independently of each other, develop and build sophisticated aircraft, whereas no one could have built an aircraft of any kind a little more than a century ago? Why can so many people design and build advanced computers that store vast amounts of information on tiny computer chips, considering that fifty years ago the most brilliant minds could not match that power with a computer thousands of times that size (and all of it was spawned by an idea)?

Is it because people today are superior to those of a generation or two or three, or ten, ago? Is it because we eat better food? Of course not. It is because knowledge serves as a foundation for more knowledge.

Orville and Wilber Wright built a flying machine that remained airborne for a little more than a minute. Soon, airplanes were being flown in World War I. Then they became advanced enough to cross an ocean. Their speed increased. Jet engines were developed. Today, high-speed air travel is widely accessible. A few men and women have ridden aboard spacecraft for months before returning to Earth.

The advancement of knowledge and ability, via the application of previously attained knowledge, skill and technology, is called praxis. It is the evolutionary process applied to human knowledge and behavior, and a fundamental Humanist observation. When the successful entrepreneur claims that she owes her success solely to her hard work, she is simply incorrect; she owes it also to the advances in knowledge, technology and social systems that made her business enterprise possible. The tenor who insists that his operatic success is solely a product of his talent has overlooked the many hours he spent listening to Caruso and Pavarotti, not to mention his teachers and mentors who also benefited from the previous work of these masters.

The evolutionary principle of praxis applies to every human endeavor, including science, political and civil rights movements, classical and popular music, philosophycomputers and video games. As the world grows smaller, appreciating that our success is the product not only of our own work but also on the work of many others, both living and departed, is imperative to our survival and continued prosperity. Praxis is a reminder to treat our success with humility and with an acknowledgment of those who have set the conditions that made it possible.

Real

True Narratives

Book narratives:

Technical and Analytical Readings

Photographs

Documentary and Educational Films

Imaginary

Fictional Narratives

In Hugo’s Les Misérables, when Valjean is destitute, he steals from a priest who had given him food and lodging. After being apprehended and returned to the monastery, Valjean faces arrest, but instead of telling the police the truth, the priest lies for Valjean, telling them that he had given Valjean the stolen items. Years later, when Valjean first encounters Cosette, she has lost fifteen sous that her abusive caretakers have given her to buy bread for the inn. In this scene, we see Valjean applying the life-changing lesson he had learned from the priest. The situations are not the same: unlike his earlier self, the child has done nothing wrong. Yet Valjean extends and applies the priest’s lesson from years earlier:

All at once, the Thénardier exclaimed:--  "By the way, where's that bread?"  Cosette, according to her custom whenever the Thénardier uplifted her voice, emerged with great haste from beneath the table.  She had completely forgotten the bread. She had recourse to the expedient of children who live in a constant state of fear. She lied.  "Madame, the baker's shop was shut."  "You should have knocked."  "I did knock, Madame."  "Well?"  "He did not open the door."  "I'll find out to-morrow whether that is true," said the Thénardier; "and if you are telling me a lie, I'll lead you a pretty dance. In the meantime, give me back my fifteen-sou piece."  Cosette plunged her hand into the pocket of her apron, and turned green. The fifteen-sou piece was not there.  "Ah, come now," said Madame Thénardier, "did you hear me?"  Cosette turned her pocket inside out; there was nothing in it. What could have become of that money? The unhappy little creature could not find a word to say. She was petrified.  "Have you lost that fifteen-sou piece?" screamed the Thénardier, hoarsely, "or do you want to rob me of it?"  At the same time, she stretched out her arm towards the cat-o'-nine-tails which hung on a nail in the chimney-corner.  This formidable gesture restored to Cosette sufficient strength to shriek:--  "Mercy, Madame, Madame! I will not do so any more!"  The Thénardier took down the whip.  In the meantime, the man in the yellow coat had been fumbling in the fob of his waistcoat, without any one having noticed his movements. Besides, the other travellers were drinking or playing cards, and were not paying attention to anything.  Cosette contracted herself into a ball, with anguish, within the angle of the chimney, endeavoring to gather up and conceal her poor half-nude limbs. The Thénardier raised her arm.  "Pardon me, Madame," said the man, "but just now I caught sight of something which had fallen from this little one's apron pocket, and rolled aside. Perhaps this is it."  At the same time he bent down and seemed to be searching on the floor for a moment.  "Exactly; here it is," he went on, straightening himself up.  And he held out a silver coin to the Thénardier.  "Yes, that's it," said she.  It was not it, for it was a twenty-sou piece; but the Thénardier found it to her advantage. She put the coin in her pocket, and confined herself to casting a fierce glance at the child, accompanied with the remark, "Don't let this ever happen again!"  Cosette returned to what the Thénardier called "her kennel," and her large eyes, which were riveted on the traveller, began to take on an expression such as they had never worn before. Thus far it was only an innocent amazement, but a sort of stupefied confidence was mingled with it. [Victor Hugo, Les Misérables (1862), Volume II – Cosette; Book Third – Accomplishment of a Promise Made To a Dead Woman, Chapter VIII, “The Unpleasantness of receiving into One's House a Poor Man who may be a Rich Man”.]

. . . these hybrid constructions are not the least interesting for the artist, for the antiquarian, for the historian. They make one feel to what a degree architecture is a primitive thing, by demonstrating (what is also demonstrated by the cyclopean vestiges, the pyramids of Egypt, the gigantic Hindoo pagodas) that the greatest products of architecture are less the works of individuals than of society; rather the offspring of a nation’s effort, than the inspired flash of a man of genius; the deposit left by a whole people; the heaps accumulated by centuries; the residue of successive evaporations of human society,—in a word, species of formations. Each wave of time contributes its alluvium, each race deposits its layer on the monument, each individual brings his stone. Thus do the beavers, thus do the bees, thus do men. The great symbol of architecture, Babel, is a hive. Great edifices, like great mountains, are the work of centuries. Art often undergoes a transformation while they are pending, - pendent opera interrupta_- ; they proceed quietly in accordance with the transformed art. The new art takes the monument where it finds it, incrusts itself there, assimilates it to itself, develops it according to its fancy, and finishes it if it can. The thing is accomplished without trouble, without effort, without reaction,—following a natural and tranquil law. It is a graft which shoots up, a sap which circulates, a vegetation which starts forth anew. Certainly there is matter here for many large volumes, and often the universal history of humanity in the successive engrafting of many arts at many levels, upon the same monument. The man, the artist, the individual, is effaced in these great masses, which lack the name of their author; human intelligence is there summed up and totalized. Time is the architect, the nation is the builder. [Victor Hugo, Notre-Dame de Paris, or, The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1831), Volume I, Book Third, Chapter I, “Notre-Dame”.]

Novels and books about novels:

Poetry

Arise to birth with me, my brother.
Give me your hand out of the depths
sown by your sorrows.
You will not return from these stone fastnesses.
You will not emerge from subterranean time.
Your rasping voice will not come back,
nor your pierced eyes rise from their sockets.
Look at me from the depths of the earth,

tiller of fields, weaver, reticent shepherd,
groom of totemic guanacos,
mason high on your treacherous scaffolding,
iceman of Andean tears,
jeweler with crushed fingers,
farmer anxious among his seedlings,
potter wasted among his clays--
bring to the cup of this new life
your ancient buried sorrows.
Show me your blood and your furrow;
say to me: here I was scourged
because a gem was dull or because the earth
failed to give up in time its tithe of corn or stone.
Point out to me the rock on which you stumbled,
the wood they used to crucify your body.
Strike the old flints
to kindle ancient lamps, light up the whips
glued to your wounds throughout the centuries
and light the axes gleaming with your blood.
I come to speak for your dead mouths.
Throughout the earth
let dead lips congregate,
out of the depths spin this long night to me
as if I rode at anchor here with you.
And tell me everything, tell chain by chain,
and link by link, and step by step;
sharpen the knives you kept hidden away,
thrust them into my breast, into my hands,
like a torrent of sunbursts,
an Amazon of buried jaguars,
and leave me cry: hours, days and years,
blind ages, stellar centuries.
And give me silence, give me water, hope.
Give me the struggle, the iron, the volcanoes.
Let bodies cling like magnets to my body.
Come quickly to my veins and to my mouth.
Speak through my speech, and through my blood.

[Pablo Neruda, “Canto XII” from “The Heights of Macchu Picchu”]

Music: Composers, artists, and major works

Toumani Diabaté, “New Ancient Strings” album (1998) (53’): Kenyan musician Toumani Diabaté applied contemporary themes, moods and rhythms to an ancient stringed instrument, the Kora. The result is a desert-island disc that brings an ancient tradition into the 20th and now the 21st century. Equally enchanting is his album “Kaira” (1988) (41’), as well as many of his other albums and singles. In a similar vein are:

Composer Eugène Ysaÿe drew heavily on Bach in composing his six violin sonatas (Op. 27) (1923) (approx. 66-72’) (list of recorded performances), acknowledging his intent to represent the evolution of musical techniques and expressions of his time. In addition to drawing on Bach, he named each of the six sonatas after an influential musical figure. Here are links to performances of all six sonatas by Gidon Kremer in 1976, Leonidas Kavakos in 1999, Thomas Zehetmair in 2004, Sharon Park in 2017, Keija He in 2021, Jack Liebeck in 2021, James Ehnes in 2021, Daniel Matejča in 2023, Hilary Hahn in 2023, and Sergey Khachatryan in 2024.

In his first series of string quartets, Op. 18 (1800) (approx. 140-180’) (list of recorded performances), Ludwig von Beethoven drew heavily on Haydn and Mozart, who had recently developed the string quartet into a staple of classical music. Top recordings of the entire opus are by Budapest String Quartet, 1943-1962; Amadeus Quartet in 1962; Quartetto Italiano in 1972; Lindsay Quartet (1 & 2, 1979) (3 & 4, 1979) (5 & 6, 1979); Alban Berg Quartet in 1981; Takács Quartet in 2004; Tokyo String Quartet in 2007; Quartetto di Cremona (1, 2018) (2 & 3, 2017) (4, 2018) (5, 2018) (6, 2018); Dover Quartet in 2021; and Ariel Quartet in 2025. Here are links to each of the quartets individually.

Ernst Krenek’s string quartets:

  • String Quartet No. 1, Op. 6 (1921) (approx. 34’), is modeled after Beethoven’s Op. 131.
  • String Quartet No. 2, Op. 8 (1921) (approx. 35’), is an extension of the first quartet, with influences from Bartók.
  • String Quartet No. 3, Op. 20 (1923) (approx. 30’)
  • String Quartet No. 4, Op. 24 (1923) (approx. 30’), is inspired by jazz.
  • String Quartet No. 5, Op. 65 (1930) (approx. 41’), is a relatively traditional quartet, for Krenek, in an atmosphere reminiscent of Schubert.
  • String Quartet No. 6, Op. 78 (1936) (approx. 32’), employs Schoenberg’s twelve-tone techniques.
  • String Quartet No. 7, Op. 96 (1944) (approx. 19’), draws on Barber’s famous Adagio.
  • String Quartet No. 8, Op. 233 (1980) (approx. 26’) 

In several of his works, modern Spanish composer Ernesto Halffter drew upon various influences:

  • Rapsodia Portuguesa, for piano & orchestra (1938) (approx. 116-17’) is influenced by Ravel, and incorporates Portuguese folk songs.
  • Deux Esquisses Symphoniques, (approx. 9’) is influenced by Debussy and documents “Halffter’s efforts to move beyond the confines of tonality” [Josef Oehrlein].
  • Sinfonietta in D Major (1925) (approx. 35’) follows the classical four-movement structure and draws on the disparate influences of Scarlatti (1700s, Baroque era and style) and Stravinsky (1900s, modern era and style). 

Other works:

Albums:

Music: songs and other short pieces

Visual Arts

Yves Klein, People Begin to Fly (1961)

 

Film and Stage

This Is Our Story

A religion of values and Ethics, driven by love and compassion, informed by science and reason.

PART ONE: OUR STORY

First ingredient: Distinctions. What is the core and essence of being human? What is contentment, or kindliness, or Love? What is gentleness, or service, or enthusiasm, or courage? If you follow the links, you see at a glance what these concepts mean.

PART TWO: ANALYSIS

This site would be incomplete without an analytical framework. After you have digested a few of the examples, feel free to explore the ideas behind the model. I would be remiss if I did not give credit to my inspiration for this work: the Human Faith Project of Calvin Chatlos, M.D. His demonstration of a model for Human Faith began my exploration of this subject matter.

A RELIGION OF VALUES

A baby first begins to learn about the world by experiencing it. A room may be warm or cool. The baby learns that distinction. As a toddler, the child may strike her head with a rag doll, and see that it is soft; then strike her head with a wooden block, and see that it is hard. Love is a distinction: she loves me, or she doesn’t love me. This is true of every human value:

justice, humility, wisdom, courage . . . every single one of them.

This site is dedicated to exploring those distinctions. It is based on a model of values that you can read about on the “About” page. However, the best way to learn about what is in here is the same as the baby’s way of learning about the world: open the pages, and see what happens.

ants organic action machines

Octavio Ocampo, Forever Always

Jacek Yerka, House over the Waterfall

Norman Rockwell, Carefree Days Ahead

WHAT YOU WILL SEE HERE

When you open tiostest.wpengine.com, you will see a human value identified at the top of the page. The value changes daily. These values are designed to follow the seasons of the year.

You will also see an overview of the value, or subject for the day, and then two columns of materials.

The left-side column presents true narratives, which include biographies, memoirs, histories, documentary films and the like; and also technical and analytical writings.

The right-side columns presents the work of the human imagination: fictional novels and stories, music, visual art, poetry and fictional film.

Each entry is presented to help identify the value. Open some of the links and experience our human story, again. It belongs to us all, and each of us is a part of it.

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