Chapter 38 Square 8... like a magic trick, we humans are conjured up, and then made invisible again...

Father and son, we strolled again through the magnificent gates of the High City of Athens.Dad stood at the gate of the city, overlooking the streets of Athens at the foot of the mountain for a long time. He stretched out his arm and pointed to the hill called Areopagus.In those days the apostle Paul climbed up that hill, and before the citizens of Athens, he gave a great speech about a god who did not dwell in man-made temples. The ancient market in Athens is located at the foot of the mountain, named "Agra" agora), which means "people's meeting place".The great Greek philosophers once lingered among the rows of colonnades there, sometimes meditating and sometimes strolling.The resplendent temples, government offices and courts that stood there in the past have all been reduced to ruins.The only remaining monument in this area is a marble temple on a hill.It is dedicated to Hephaestus, the "god of fire and wrought iron" in Greek mythology.

"We must go down the hill, Hans Thomas," said Pa. "To me, this journey is like a Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca. Only, my Mecca is now in ruins." I think what he was worried about was that he would be very disappointed once he came to the ancient Athenian bazaar that he had wanted for a long time.However, when we hurried there and searched among the marble buildings, the love for ancient Athenian culture in his heart was ignited in an instant.He had two or three books on this topic, which just helped him review the history of Athens. The whole market was empty, and it was rare to see anyone walking around.Thousands of tourists gather in the high city on the mountain every day, lingering, but here at the foot of the mountain, only two or three clown-like figures occasionally appear.

I remember thinking to myself at that time that if people really have past lives and future lives, then my father must have walked around this market square a thousand years ago.Talking about the life of the citizens of ancient Athens, his tone seems to be "recalling" the past. As I was walking, my father stopped suddenly, pointed to the ruined wall in front of me and said to me: "A child is sitting on the sand and building sand castles. Every time a castle is built, he will sit there and watch it for a while, and then raise his hand to see it. It knocks it down and builds a new one. Likewise, the God of 'Time' also has a plaything, which is our earth. The history of the world is written here; the major events of the world are also inscribed here-but, The records are blotted out in a blink of an eye. Human life boils here, as in a witch's cauldron—. One day we, too, will be fashioned—out of the same fragile materials as our ancestors.' Time' hits us like a gust of wind, takes us away, merges with us, then leaves us again. Like a magic trick, we human beings are made out and then out of sight again. There is always something around us. Something lurks, waiting to take our place. Do you know why? Because we're not standing on solid ground—we're not even standing on sand—we're a cloud of sand ourselves."

What Dad said scared the hell out of me.It wasn't just in this passage that shocked me: some of the words he chose were deliberate.His unusual passionate tone also really surprised me. Dad continued: "You can't escape 'time'. You can escape the monarch of a country, you can even escape God, but you can't escape 'time'. 'Time' follows us closely. Everything around us , disappearing as suddenly as morning dew.” I kept nodding my head, looking very serious.Baba's tirade on the subject of "the relentless power of time" had only just begun.

"Hans Thomas, 'time' does not pass, nor does 'time' tick. We humans pass, and the watches we wear tick. As eternal as the sun rises and sets, 'time' Penetrating through the entire history, stealthily and ruthlessly nibble away at human life step by step. It destroys great civilizations, corrodes ancient relics, and swallows human beings from generation to generation. This is the 'merciless power of time'. It keeps chewing gnawed, and we humans were caught between its upper and lower jaws." "Did the philosophers of old talk about such things?" I asked.

Dad nodded, and continued, "For just a brief moment, we became part of the multitude. We were so busy living on the earth that it was the only real thing in the universe. Didn't you just see that swarms of ants Crawling around on the high city of Athens? But, sooner or later, all of this will disappear. After it disappears, it will be replaced by another group of humans and insects immediately, because there will always be a new group waiting in line. All kinds of shapes All kinds of masks are constantly appearing and disappearing; all kinds of new ideas are constantly presented before people's eyes.

The theme will never be repeated; an article will not be repeated... Son, the most complex and precious thing in the universe is 'human', but we are treated as dross and garbage. " I thought Dad was being too pessimistic, so I mustered up the courage to ask, "Is it really that dire?" "Don't interrupt Dad Yan to interrupt me." We are jumping around on the earth, just like characters in fairy tales.We smiled at each other, nodded and said hello: 'Hi, hello!We live in the same era, the same reality—the same mythical story...' Hans Thomas, don't you think this is incredible? We live on a planet in the universe, but in a flash we will be swept away again. Out of the Earth's orbit.Bewildered and inexplicable, we were kicked out of the house, as if someone had cast a spell to drive us away. "

I sat aside and looked at my father quietly.He is the most familiar and beloved person in my life. However, standing on the ancient square of Athens at this moment, while browsing the surrounding marble architectural relics, while spouting comments, the whole person seems to have completely changed, Unlike the father I knew.I suspect that he was possessed by Apollo or other gods and demons, so he said those strange words. "If we lived in another century," Dad continued, "we would share our lives with others. Today, we would just nod, smile, and say hello to thousands of our contemporaries: 'Hi, hello! How amazing that we live in the same time.' Perhaps someone knocks on the door, and I open it and say hello: 'Hi! Soul and flesh!'”

Dad stretched out his hands, performing the gesture of opening the door to welcome the spirit. "Hans Thomas, do you know? We are alive now, but we only live once. We open our arms and announce our existence to the world, but are quickly swept aside and thrown into the void of history." Deep in the pit. Do you know why? Because we humans are 'disposable' things. For a short period of time, we participate in an eternal masquerade with changing masks. But, Hans Thomas, we deserve better. Your name and mine should be engraved on something eternal, something eternal that cannot be washed away by the stream of time."

Dad found a marble slab and sat down to catch his breath.Now I realize that he had long planned to deliver this speech in the ancient square of Athens, and the speech had been prepared long ago.In this way, he participated in the debates of the ancient Greek philosophers. This speech is not addressed to me, but to the great group of ancient Greek philosophers.Dad was talking about a long-gone era. Although I am not yet a full-fledged philosopher, I feel qualified to offer a little personal insight. "Don't you think there may be some things in the world that cannot be washed away by the flow of time?" I asked my father.

He turned around and spoke to me for the first time.It seemed that my question was so powerful that it shook him out of his trance. "Here!" Dad stretched out a finger and poked his forehead. "Some things in it cannot be washed away by the flow of time." Listening to his tone, I really worried that he would become a paranoid man; listening to what he said next, I realized that he was not only referring to himself. "Hans Thomas, thought does not follow the tide. Don't worry, I am only halfway through. The philosophers of Athens believed that there is one thing in the world that will not run away or disappear. Plato This thing is called 'world of ideas' (worldofideas). The castle made of sand is not the most important thing. The most important thing is the shape of the sandcastle that the child pre-imagined in his mind before building the sandcastle. ’. After building a sandcastle, the child raises his hand and smashes it. Do you know why?” I must admit that I can understand the first half of Dad's speech better, but the second half makes me confused.Dad continued: "Have you ever wanted to draw something, but you always feel that something is wrong and can't satisfy you. You try again and again, and you refuse to give up. This is because the image in your mind is always More complete and complete than anything you can paint with your hands. The same is true of everything around us. We feel that everything in this world can be better. Do you know why we think so?" I kept shaking my head.Speaking of this, Dad looked very excited, and his voice became low and hoarse: "This is because the images in our minds all come from what Plato called the 'world of reason'. That's where we should belong. Not here—in this sandbox-like world ready to be washed away by the stream of time." "So, there really is another world?" Dad nodded quietly: "Before entering a physical body, our soul inhabits there; after the physical body decays under the ravages of time, it will return to that world." "Really?" I looked up at Dad in awe. "Well, that's what Plato thought. Our physical body is like a castle built of sand, and sooner or later time will wash it away. There is nothing we can do about it. However, we do have something that time cannot destroy, because it does not belong to The world. We must open our eyes to see everything that flows around us—they are nothing but phantoms." I don't understand all that my father said; however, I do understand that philosophy is a huge science, and my father is an outstanding philosopher.After listening to Dad's speech, I feel that I am much closer to the ancient Greeks in spirit.I know that what I see today is only some tangible remnants left by the Greeks, and most of them are secular things, but their thoughts are timeless and full of lively vitality. At the end of his speech, Dad stretched out his arm and pointed to the place where Socrates was imprisoned.Socrates was accused of inciting the young people of Athens to lead them astray, and was forced to drink a vial of poison to his death.In fact, he was the only "clown" in the entire city of Athens at that time.