Escher and Philosophy

delija said:Sorry guys, but you’ve got it wrong here.
Do you even know which branch of science Symmetry actually falls under?
If you do, then take a look at http://www.mcescher.nl/Gallery/gallerynl.htm and check out that last presentation: Symmetrie...

If you don't know, just read this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symmetry

Looks like there's no saving this one. Brandon Martin7 is just joining the ranks of people who try to act smart by simply trashing someone else's intellect. It doesn't seem to matter to folks like Brandon Martin7 that hundreds of mathematicians, scientists, and philosophers—not to mention everyone else—find the highest level of universal symbolic messaging within Escher's graphics. Apparently, his only interest is finding ways to scoff at things that are actually meaningful and beautiful to a reasonable person.
If you've noticed, every once in a while, some Brandon Martin7 pops into a discussion just to ignore or belittle what everyone else has been saying. That’s the whole tragicomedy of chaotic forums like this—people jumping into threads they have absolutely no connection to. That’s exactly what’s happening here.

In my view, from a philosophical standpoint, we should be looking at a selected group of characteristic Escher images, analyzing each individual piece within that set. Of course, the fundamental prerequisite for any such philosophical analysis is having a grasp of philosophy as laid out in Hofstadter's GEB.
How many people on this forum actually fit that description?
It feels like fooling around and messing about is more important here than having a coherent, serious conversation about a topic or an unsolved philosophical problem.
In the image you posted, I showed how Escher's works can be interpreted both philosophically and scientifically. If you want, we can keep going like that—your call.
Look, the key thing is that Hofstadter finds a universal matrix connecting Bach, Escher, and Gödel, all framed within the context of the creative matrix of DNA. His famous "G" point is nothing less than the singularity that Kurzweil predicts—or perhaps it's those "points" from the source of what I am talking about. It seems to me that you, too, have "your own" point in your research and work—at least based on that image of yours from the link you shared, where a tetrahedral fractal and a tetrahedral star sit right at the center as a single "point."
No matter how much people on this forum throw their egos, insults, or whatever other nonsense around, most people in the real world are busy doing actual things, while we're stuck dealing with mental clutter and destruction rather than construction.
I often wonder what kind of schools these people graduated from, who their professors were, or what kind of education—or self-education, for that matter—they had to end up communicating like this.
Personally, I feel bad that since I joined this forum, a huge number of very high-quality individuals have left because of—I don't have another way to put it—mental savages.
I read your PM. I'll get back to you as soon as I catch a bit more free time.

The fact that hundreds of mathematicians, scientists, philosophers, and just regular folks find these high-level symbolic messages in Escher's work... well, I guess people like Brandon Martin7 just don't care about that. It seems like they're mostly interested in tearing down things that are actually meaningful and beautiful to most of us.

That’s basically just bad hermeneutics—treating art like some meditative object to be dissected. It feels like you're kind of degrading Escher.

But hey, no big deal, don't feel insulted or anything, that's just how I see it, I guess. 👍

geza said:I firmly believe our natural optical perception is basically lying to us.

Honestly, it’s more than just a belief. I’d go as far as calling it a scientific fact—though, full disclosure, this isn't my field of expertise, so don't take me as an absolute authority here! Sorry, I know this is a bit of a tangent, but I really think it ties right into what we're talking about.

Our visual "snapshot" of the world is nowhere near objective. To put it bluntly, most of the time we aren't actually seeing what's right in front of us; we're seeing what our brains *think* should be there.

So, how does that work? It all comes down to data interpretation. Think about it: for a human to react quickly to stuff happening around them, they have to process information almost instantly based on incredibly limited data. To make this happen, the visual processing center in our brain builds an image incrementally. It starts with a super simplified, low-res version and gradually refines it into something more complex and realistic. This constant loop of filling in the blanks and polishing the image happens non-stop as long as we're paying attention to whatever we're looking at.

What we "see" is always just an approximation. It gets better the longer we stare at a scene or if we've trained ourselves to be sharp observers. But from the get-go, most of that initial image is totally fabricated by the brain rather than being a direct feed from the eye.

Basically, the raw data from your eyes hits an image recognition hub first. This hub works at speeds that would make even a high-end gaming PC look slow, constantly comparing incoming signals against a massive library of stored images. That sub-center then sends the closest match back to the main perception center. It’s way faster and much easier for the brain to grab a "best guess" from memory than it is to perform a deep, frame-by-frame analysis of everything it sees to draw conclusions.

Take this scenario: your eye spots a blurry red shape moving toward you on a highway. The recognition center immediately pulls up a "red car" file. For that split second, that's enough info for you to react. A second later, you realize the shape is too big for a car, so the center swaps it out for a "red truck." A few seconds after that, the visual input matches a group of cyclists, and suddenly you "see" a pack of people in red jerseys. It keeps refining itself like that, getting more detailed as time goes on.

Sometimes, you nail it on the first try! Like, you see a hunched figure in a brown coat about fifty feet away and instantly recognize it's just your neighbor, Peter. A computer would probably need several minutes of heavy processing just to reach that same conclusion.

If someone isn't paying close attention, or if they haven't practiced being observant, their perception ends up being mostly made of these "hallucinated" mental images that don't actually line up with reality. If they're looking at something totally foreign, the mental image can be hilariously far from the truth. Law enforcement knows this all too well from witness interviews; witnesses are notoriously unreliable because their brains can create such shockingly incorrect impressions of what actually happened.

So, yeah, that's the deal with an "objective" view of reality. It only starts becoming somewhat objective if we actually put in the work to look closer.

Penis said:that’s just bad hermeneutics—this whole meditative objectification of art, this mental debasement. you’re actually degrading Escher.

But hey, no big deal—don't go getting all defensive on me just yet, it’s really just my take on things. 👍

And why on earth would I be offended? I’m just pushing back against your view, just like you’re doing to mine. I’m simply trying to get people to approach the core of the matter with an open mind, based on actual universal insights rather than just the whims of whatever individual happens to be talking. You could at least respect—if nothing else—my good intentions to pass along knowledge from one person to another. But you won't even give me that, let alone show any respect for my expertise or Escher’s standing in global intellectual circles.

Emericzy hollowpilot9 said:It isn't just about what someone believes—that’s a given. It's more like... a scientific fact? Or at least that's how it looks from where I'm sitting—though, look, I should probably clarify that this isn't exactly my field of expertise, so don't take my word as gospel or anything. Anyway, sorry—this is a bit of a tangent, I know—but I honestly think it ties right back into what we were talking about.

Our visual perception of the world is pretty far from being objective—if you can even call it that. The reality is, most of the time we aren't actually seeing what’s right in front of us, but rather just a projection of what we *think* we're looking at. It's all just mental shortcuts and assumptions, isn't it?

So, what’s the actual point here? It’s all about data interpretation—or rather, how we make sense of the mess. To react to anything happening around us in real time, you have to be able to grasp the situation almost instantly, usually while working with a seriously insufficient amount of information. The way I see it, the visual perception center in your brain doesn't just hand you a finished masterpiece. Instead, it builds the image piece by piece—starting with this incredibly basic, ultra-simplified sketch and gradually layering on detail until it looks more like reality. It’s this constant, never-ending loop of filling in the blanks and refining the picture, at least as long as you're actually paying attention to whatever it is you're looking at.

Spot on, my friend. Your comment hits the nail on the head—honestly, it’s a breath of fresh air to see some actual truth being shared on this forum for once. I won't get bogged down in a play-by-play of everything you wrote, but I really want to zero in on that one word you used: *implications*. I mean, just think about it for a second... what are the actual implications of the fact that our optical perception is basically just lying to us? If we can't trust what we see, where does that leave everything else?
We all remember that massive uproar some immature scientists used to kick up back in the day—the way they treated alchemy like nothing more than a collection of scams and idiocy. It wasn't until Copernicus showed up that we actually saw a real scientific revolution begin. We finally moved toward actual intelligence because this one guy from Poland figured out that the Earth revolves around the Sun, rather than the Sun circling our planet like everyone else thought. Before him, you had people who were just plain clueless—kind of like my old neighbor, Mrs. Higgins, who was absolutely convinced, with total certainty, that the Sun literally sets behind the hills every evening. I mean, talk about being misled by your own eyes, right? It was just her optical perception playing tricks on her—purely subjective, really.
So, where’s the actual proof that what Copernicus says—and what modern science claims—is true? That the Earth is spinning around the Sun? I mean, sure, we’re flooded with endless indirect evidence and relative "proofs" meant to show us how the Earth revolves around the Sun, but does that actually make it reality? Is it really happening?
Just imagine the sheer audacity of a realization that suggests Copernicus’s massive revolutionary breakthrough was actually nothing more than a giant hoax—basically sitting right up there on the same level as some old wives' tale you'd hear from a neighborhood gossip.
You don't exactly need a PhD to see it—though I suppose some people like to order a lifetime supply of wisdom just to feel important—but it’s pretty obvious that you can't have perfectly circular motion around an object that is itself moving in a circle. Take the relationship between the Sun and the Earth, for instance. It simply doesn't work that way. Instead, what we're actually looking at is a spiral—specifically, spiral motion. And honestly? The difference between a circle and a spiral is massive.
The whole idea that Earth revolves around the Sun is just geocentric—it’s relative, really, and frankly pretty far from the actual truth movement earth and sun within cosmic space. If you look at how things actually move through the void, neither object is tracing a simple circle. They're both just following spirals. It's all spirals. Why do we insist on drawing perfect circles when the reality is clearly more... spiral?
So, what are the actual implications of realizing this? At first glance, honestly, probably nothing. It seems like a minor detail—just a footnote in the grand scheme of things. But if you take that one realization and start weaving it together with all those other delusions we hold about traditional, linear perception... well, then the implications become absolutely massive. Seriously, once you pull that single thread, the whole fabric starts to unravel.
Let me throw another example out there. We’re all under this firm impression that everything is in a state of constant flux throughout the day—you know, that every single second is fundamentally different from the one before it (which is exactly what you were touching on earlier), and that every new day brings some kind of fresh start. But if you actually take a second to look at why we even have that sensation of change in the first place... why does it feel like things are shifting as the hours pass? Well, we might quickly realize that the primary reason for that perceived shift isn't actually because morning, afternoon, evening, and night are changing independently. It's just the fact that the Earth is rotating on its axis. We tend to misinterpret the mechanics of it all, don't we? Those cycles have been these unchanging constants for thousands of years. What’s actually "changing" is just our own geocentric and homocentric illusion—kind of like sitting in a movie theater, watching a film and thinking the action is actually happening right in front of us instead of just being projected on a screen.
So, what we’re really talking about here isn't just the sheer scale of these kinds of insights—though that's plenty to wrap one's head around—it's more about the fallout, right? It's the implications of these realizations coming at you from every single direction at once. Like, how do you even process that kind of pressure?
Honestly, I’ve been thinking—this really ought to be part of the philosophy curriculum too. You know, like an actual assignment? We need something that forces people to confront how much our own senses lie to us. It's wild how easily we get tripped up by what we think we see or hear, isn't it? Philosophy should be out there actively debunking those sensory delusions before we take them as gospel.
Maybe you haven't been following all my threads, so I’ll bring this up now. When we sit down for, say, our morning coffee, we’re under the impression that the flavor we're experiencing is an objective reality, right? Well, that's a total illusion. The taste itself is just a mental construct—a trick played by the brain. In actual reality, we have the hard, undeniable fact that what we call "flavor" is simply determined by the relationship between four specific pillars: sweet, bitter, sour, and salty. It’s actually pretty easy to prove if you look at it.
But what does that actually mean for us?
It’s essentially a little treat for modern-day philosophy.

What we "see" is always just an approximation—one that gets slightly better the longer we stare at a scene or the more we train ourselves to observe. From the very first millisecond, most of the image isn't even real; it's being generated by the brain rather than being captured directly by the eye.

Basically, the data from the eyes hits an image recognition center which—at speeds that would make a high-end PC look sluggish—compares that incoming data against a library of stored images. That sub-center then pings the perception center with whichever image most closely matches the signal coming from the eye. It’s a much faster, much simpler shortcut than actually analyzing a raw image and drawing logical conclusions about it.

Take, for instance, when you see something blurry and red approaching on a highway. The recognition center quickly spits out the image of a red car. For a split second, that's enough information for a person to react. A second later, the brain realizes it looks too big for a sedan, so it swaps the file to a red pickup truck. A few seconds after that, the visual signal aligns with a group of cyclists, and suddenly the person "sees" a pack of riders in red jerseys. And it keeps refining like that.

Sometimes, you get a bullseye on the first try. You see a hunched figure in a brown coat fifty yards away and immediately know it's your neighbor, Dave. It would take a computer several minutes to reach that level of accuracy, assuming it could even get there.

If someone isn't paying close attention, or hasn't trained their observational skills, their perception becomes mostly a collection of artificially generated images that don't correlate with reality at all. If they're looking at something completely foreign, the brain's internal image can be comically far from the truth. The NYPD knows this all too well from interrogating witnesses; people frequently have mind-bogglingly wrong impressions of what they claim to have seen.

So, that's the deal with the "objective" picture of reality. It only becomes somewhat objective if we actually put in the work to refine it.

You hit the nail on the head, sir. Your comment is spot on—honestly, it's a breath of fresh air on this forum. I won't dwell on your specific points, but I want to highlight that one word: IMPLICATIONS. What are the actual implications of the fact that our optical perception is essentially lying to us?
Do we all remember the massive uproar some immature scientists used to kick up regarding alchemy? They viewed the era before Copernicus as nothing but a period of deception and stupidity, right? It wasn't until Copernicus arrived that the great scientific revolution truly began—the dawn of genuine intellect—because he established that the Earth orbits the Sun, rather than the Sun orbiting the Earth, as the uneducated masses believed. Think of someone like old Mrs. Higgins, who was absolutely certain the Sun set behind the hills because that's what she saw! Was that just her flawed optical perception playing tricks on her?
But where is the proof that what Copernicus and science claim—that the Earth revolves around the Sun—is actually true? We have countless indirect and relative "proofs" suggesting it looks that way, certainly. But is it *actually* happening that way?
Just imagine a realization suggesting that even Copernicus's revolutionary discovery was merely another illusion, sitting on the same level as the delusions of "Mrs. Higgins."
You don't need a PhD or even much common sense to realize that you cannot have circular motion around an object that is itself moving in a circle—which is the case in the Sun-Earth relationship. There can only be a SPIRAL; specifically, spiral motion. And the difference between circular and spiral motion is massive!!
Our belief that Zemklja orbits the Sun is geocentric, relative, and fundamentally untrue compared to the truth movement earth and Sun in cosmic space. In the vacuum of space, both objects follow spirals, not circles.
So, what are the actual implications of realizing this? At first glance, nothing much—but if you connect this insight to all the other delusions baked into our traditional, linear perception of reality, then we're talking about something massive.
Let me throw an example out there. We live under this firm conviction that everything is constantly shifting throughout the day—that every single second is fundamentally different from the last (which is what you were touching on), that every new day is a brand new entity, and so on. But if you actually take a step back and ask why we have this sensation of change—why we feel like things are "happening"—you quickly realize the primary reason for that perceived flux is simply the Earth rotating on its axis. It’s not because morning, noon, evening, and night are actually changing states, though that’s how most people mistakenly perceive it. Those cycles have been unchanging constants for thousands of years; what’s actually "changing" is just our geocentric and homocentric illusion—kind of like sitting in a movie theater and thinking the action is happening in the room rather than on the screen.
So, isn't the point less about the scale of these individual realizations and more about the sheer weight of their implications crashing in from every direction?
In my view, helping people peel back these layers should probably be one of the core jobs of philosophy—exposing and communicating the delusions created by our own sensory input.
I don't know if you've caught every one of my posts, but I'll mention this too. When we sit down for, say, a morning coffee, we're convinced that the flavor we experience exists as an objective reality. But that’s a delusion. There is only the illusion of taste generated within our brains; in reality, we're dealing with the hard, undeniable fact that flavor is merely determined by the RELATIONSHIP between four complementary tastes: sweet, bitter, sour, and salty. That's easy enough to verify and prove.
And what does that imply?
That’s the real treat for modern-day philosophy.

Penis said:because art is about sensory experience, while math is just some massive, useless void.

What are you even talking about?

It’s not just about having senses—animals have those—but they don't have the capacity to process sensory input the way humans do.

I don't get why so many people lack any kind of mathematical "ear," but I do know that those who actually have the gift are basically artists who "feel" things out with their minds. And if that isn't a sensory thing... then I don't know what is. 😬

VelmaX said:What are you talking about?

It’s not about the senses—animals have those too. It’s about the ability to process sensory input the way humans do.

I don't know why so many people lack a mathematical "ear," but I do know that those who possess it are true artists of mental intuition. And if intuition isn't a sense... then what is? 😬

Listen, Velma, you've practically brushed against reincarnation here. 😘
The FEWER times Spirit has reincarnated—meaning the person holding that Spirit, they lack any kind of mathematical "ear." 😈
The MORE times Spirit has reincarnated—meaning the person holding that Spirit, they are gifted with the ability to be an artist of mental intuition. 😍

..and Escher's standing within global intellectual circles

I mean, you definitely convinced me regarding his status among the intellectuals, but I guess that doesn't really have anything to do with the actual art. Maybe one day you'll realize that you can't actually reach true art through all that scientific intellectualizing. It feels like art is just being used here as a tool for intellectual construction—even if Escher did have some kind of "divine" intuition, I suppose. In other words, if this counts as art, then maybe a physics textbook with detailed diagrams is way more artistic than Wassily Kandinsky. Art can only be offered to the intellect secondarily, sort of *post festum*, but you're jumping on that first ball and all you end up with is your own self-absorbed mental mechanics.

I don't really know why so many people lack any kind of mathematical "ear," but I do know that those who are blessed with that gift are essentially artists who "feel" their way through with their minds. And if feeling isn't a sense... well, I guess I don't know what is.

The split between the sciences—the spiritual and the natural ones—didn't happen by accident, which a lot of people have pointed out, like Dilthey or Rickert. Especially Snow, who noted there’s this fatal difference in mentality, like a total incompatibility, between, say, an art historian and a physicist. It's like a fundamental complementarity in humans where someone might be a genius in one area but totally lost in the other. I guess nobody can be further from art than a mathematician (though exceptions prove the rule, like Bachelard, I suppose). People are just shaped one-dimensionally; it's not really black and white, it's more like white is just less black.

Brandon Martin7 said:In Snow's work, he noted this massive, almost fatal gap between, say, an art historian and a physicist. It’s like a total clash of mindsets—this deep, fundamental kind of complementarity where a person is a genius in one field but basically a lost cause in the other. You can't really get further from art than a mathematician can (though there are always outliers, like Bachelard). People are just built one-dimensionally; you can't have black and white, it's more like shades of gray where white is just slightly less black.

Well... I don't know if I totally buy that. If my memory serves me right (and man, it's been a while!), Snow wasn't actually setting this in stone as some kind of universal law. He was really just pointing out the huge rift between the "hard science" crowd and the "social science" types in actual society. He didn't define it as an inescapable rule; if anything, he seemed pretty fascinated by the existence of that divide!

VelmaX said:What are you even talking about?

It isn't really about the senses—animals have those too—but they lack the capacity to process sensory input in that uniquely human way.

I’m not entirely sure why so many people seem to lack even a shred of mathematical "intuition," but I do know that those blessed with that gift are essentially artists of mental tactile sensation. And if feeling things out with your mind isn't a sense... well, I don't know what is. 😬

Here are a few more gems regarding the intersection of math and art, and vice versa:

"In many contemporary artistic achievements, one can observe mathematical elements—not just in something like Cubism, but in various musical compositions and non-figurative painting.
If we grant nature the title of artist, we must also acknowledge it as a mathematician. We find fascinating symmetrical patterns everywhere—in the animal kingdom, in plants, in the mineral world, and even on a cosmic scale within structures like nebulae. From snowflakes to flower petals, from snail shells and starfish to hedgehogs, leaves, pine needles, branches, and trees; from patterns on polished meteorites to the markings on butterfly wings—nature's imagination in crafting symmetry far exceeds our own.
Mathematicians will often describe a specific proof of a theorem as 'elegant,' 'beautiful,' or 'harmonious,' while labeling another proof of that very same theorem as 'inelegant' or 'clunky.'
The pivotal points in constructing a mathematical proof are often the result of a bold idea or an intuitive flash rather than prolonged logical analysis.

Escher once noted quite clearly: 'If I am not mistaken, the terms "art" and "artist" emerged during the Renaissance; before then, they didn't exist—there were only architects, sculptors, and painters engaged in certain crafts.'
In Escher's 'snakes,' we see a sort of conceptualization of recursive functions. I would argue that through his final woodcut, Escher achieved the absolute limit of what is possible via human means in approximating the infinity that so obsessed him.'

That’s how the competent mathematician Devide and Escher himself put it. But what about those who are just 'talking nonsense,' as Velma x puts it?

Escher, Bach, and mathematician Gödel created their works following the SAME creative logic used to assemble amino acids, proteins, chromosomes, cells, and humans—the universal logic by which all existence is formed. Instead of intelligent people seeking to understand this creative logic and applying it to their own specialized fields, we constantly see these detractors who deny the validity of works by Escher, Bach, and Gödel—just as they might deny the DNA molecule that holds the blueprint for biological human life.

Arthur Anderson49 said:Well... I’m not so sure about that. If my memory serves me—and it’s been a while—Snow didn't exactly define the gap between "naturalists" and "socialites" as some kind of fixed law of nature. He was just pointing out that the divide exists in actual society. In fact, he seemed to actually embrace the existence of that gap.

My post actually backs up your point.
As for these supposed "gaps"—honestly, those are just outdated misconceptions from linear philosophies that died out ages ago. The space between the "naturalist" and the "socialite" has been colonized by *Homo imaginativus*. This isn't just about changing the natural world; we're reshaping human society at such a breakneck speed that it forces our entire social structure into a state of lifelong learning. What we consider cutting-edge today is basically ancient history by tomorrow. There was a time when knowledge stayed "fresh" for years, maybe even centuries. Now? Some people are still trying to cling to that old way of keeping things static—trying to convince us that humans are somehow "revolutionary" beings rather than just inherently creative ones?

hollowpilot9 said:In the gap between the "naturalists" and the "social scientists," there lives a species of imaginative sapiens who isn't just reshaping the physical world, but is rewriting human society at such a breakneck pace that it forces everyone into a state of lifelong retraining. What we master today is obsolete by tomorrow! It used to be that knowledge from TODAY would stay relevant for years, even centuries. Now, some people try to cling to that old-school way of thinking, trying to convince us that humans are somehow "revolutionary" beings rather than just creative ones?

Well, I think we’re looking at this from totally different angles.

Look, I’m a deep-down conservative, and honestly? Change stresses me out. I’d much rather live by that classic American proverb: "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." The idea of shifting social paradigms gives me the creeps. I'm genuinely terrified of "progress" when there isn't a desperate, burning necessity for it.

Man, I really wish we could have let certain things sit still for a few more centuries. Especially when it comes to tech.

Take the steamship, for example. It was invented over a hundred and fifty years before it actually knocked sailing ships off their pedestal—and right when sailing vessels were hitting their absolute peak commercial prime! The only real advantage the steamship had was needing a smaller crew, and even then, you could basically hire anyone from anywhere and train them on the fly. You only really needed specialized skills for the officers. Ironically, true, high-level sailing technology didn't even reach its zenith until after sailing ships were already being phased out.

Then you’ve got the internal combustion engine replacing the steam engine, where the tech for steam engines only truly hit its peak once they became obsolete. It’s like we only figure out how to make a truly incredible steam engine once we don't actually need one anymore! And the list goes on and on, if you want me to keep rambling.

At one point in history, human nature caught a fever—a total mania for development, speed, and constant advancement that nobody actually asked for. We started chasing "progress" just for the sake of progressing, regardless of the cost or the fallout, and we branded it as this inherently "good" thing that shouldn't even be questioned. Once that happened, this "progress" lost all sense of restraint. Human society basically turned into a frantic, stampeding herd just running toward the horizon.

Sorry, I did it again—totally went off on a tangent!

Arthur Anderson49 said:Well, it looks like we’re clearly on different pages here.

I’m pretty deeply conservative at my core—change just isn't really my thing—and I find myself leaning heavily on that old American adage, "Don't fix it if it ain't broke." Honestly? The constant shifting of social paradigms genuinely terrifies me. There's this relentless drive toward "progress" for its own sake, and frankly, I dread any kind of advancement that doesn't stem from an actual, painful necessity. Why mess with the foundation if the house is still standing?

I honestly wish we could just hit the brakes on certain things for a few more centuries—especially when it comes to technology. Just... slow it all down? Is that too much to ask?

Steamships were actually invented like a century and a half before they finally managed to overtake sailing vessels—and by then, sailing ships were only just hitting their commercial stride. Honestly, what was the real advantage of a steamship back then? It wasn't even about speed, really... it was just that you didn't need a massive crew to run them. Most of those sailors could basically be recruited from anywhere and trained on the fly, too. You really only needed the officers to have any actual specialized knowledge or skill. It’s kind of funny when you think about it—true, high-tech sail technology didn't even really start seeing major breakthroughs until long after sailing ships had been phased out entirely.

Then the internal combustion engine comes along and kicks the steam engine to the curb—which is funny, really, because we didn't even master the actual technology behind steam power until after it was already obsolete. It’s like we only figured out how to build a truly great steam engine once we realized we didn't actually need one anymore. But hey, that's just how things go, I guess. Anyway, I'll stop rambling before I bore everyone to death.

At some point in history, human nature just caught this fever—this frantic, obsessive need for constant development and speed that honestly nobody actually asked for. We started chasing "progress" just for the sake of moving the needle, ignoring the costs and the fallout like they didn't exist. It was branded as an absolute moral good—something so fundamentally right that questioning it was treated like heresy if you actually wanted to get anything done. And once that engine started running? There was no hitting the brakes. Human society basically turned into this manic, sprinting herd, just running blindly toward the next thing.

My bad—sorry for going off on another tangent again.

Subjective expression is fine for some small-town porch talk—not that I’m talking about your specific post, just speaking generally—but if we’re actually diving into the phenomenology of life, of existence itself... well, that's a different story. It's a constant push toward objectivity, toward synthesis, toward Truth, toward the Origin. So, this intense conservatism of yours? It falls squarely into your own subjective camp. Which, obviously, is fine—it's your opinion, your conviction, whatever—and there's no reason why anyone shouldn't respect that as your personal take.
So, you’re saying you push back against every single shift in social paradigms—which, honestly, I get. It’s a valid stance. But it makes me wonder... do these changes actually exist in any meaningful way? If you sit down and dig through the heavy-hitters of anthropology—looking at how human society evolved from basic tribal structures all the way up to something like the European Union—it becomes pretty obvious that we’re just swapping out the colors of our social paradigms while the underlying matrix remains exactly the same. It’s all cosmetic, really. You could easily prove that by looking at the family unit; despite all the noise, that fundamental structure hasn't actually shifted the core blueprint of how we rebuild society. Or has it?
So, regarding the idea that—at some point in history—humanity just caught this fever for progress and speed that we didn't actually need... you know, that whole concept where we chase "advancement" for its own sake, ignoring the consequences and labeling it as an absolute moral good that shouldn't even be questioned? It’s a classic perspective—one I can definitely wrap my head around. The notion that society essentially turned into a frantic, sprinting herd because we couldn't figure out how to hit the brakes. But, unfortunately, development—or evolution, if we're being technical—is pretty much the core of existence. If everything truly boiled down to what you're suggesting—just "unnecessary speed"—then maybe we could actually control things or fix them. But I have a feeling we're looking at a completely different beast here. I'm thinking more along the lines of the population paradigm, which is basically a biological imperative for life itself. I mean, think about it: does it really not matter whether a society consists of 2,100 people, 1,000, or 10 billion? From a purely logistical standpoint—like, just looking at the sheer necessity of food security—the total number of people directly dictates how a society has to organize itself. You can't run a massive metropolis the same way you'd run a small town in rural Montana, right? The scale changes the entire structure.
Honestly, I don't even know why we’re all such a rush—what's the end goal here, really? Why is technology always treated like this frantic, unstoppable race? The old way of thinking—that everything just exists to serve capital and the capitalists—doesn't really hold water anymore. It's outdated. We've reached a point where technological progress isn't just about profit margins; it's more like this massive, driving force of creation itself. It's pushing us away from those small-scale, individual creators—you know, the folks building single ships, locomotives, or freight cars—and moving us toward something much larger. We're shifting toward a macro-subject of creation rather than just being a collection of micro-subjects. Is that even happening, or am I just overthinking the whole thing?
To actually address the dilemmas you’re (understandably) throwing out there, we first have to tackle the big one: Is the human journey predestined, or is it just our innate urge to poke around and see what makes things tick?
And honestly, isn't progress less about human willpower and more about something else entirely? Progress is driven by technology—independent of whether we want it to be or not. If the tech stops, life stalls; it basically hits a massive bottleneck. You only need to look at the chaos—take NYC, for instance—when the power grid fails or traffic grinds to a halt. Everything just breaks.
Think about it: right now, there are roughly 4,000 massive jets cruising through the atmosphere at any given moment, whereas just 150 years ago, the only thing flying was birds. Or look at satellites—forty years ago, there wasn't a single one, and today we've got thousands circling us.
So, where does that leave us tomorrow?
One of the defining realizations of our era is this loop: humans invent technology to solve a specific problem, but that very solution inevitably creates a whole new set of problems. It’s an interactive cycle spinning toward the future.
I think the philosopher's true calling should be answering this: Why must we live in a world of technology that helps us in one breath and terrorizes us in the next? Focusing on just one side of that coin is a mistake.
Is human society turning into a "frenzied, stampeding herd," or is it evolving into something else entirely? That's the real question. There are plenty of perspectives out there, including mine—that society is morphing into one giant macroorganism. Some people might love that idea, others won't, but it's really no different than asking what a cluster of fetal cells is becoming. If the answer is "just a bunch of cells running around," then humanity never happens. But if they are forming a new macro-organism? Then that's what humanity becomes.
At the end of the day, whether we agree or not, there are certain FACTS that simply don't care about my opinion, your opinion, or anyone else's.
That's essentially where the current philosophical mess lies. So many people are still desperately fighting to have their scientific or philosophical views validated, even when daily reality keeps proving them wrong.

Since we're talking about Escher in a philosophical context, he actually settled all these questions quite clearly through his art. One of his prints shows half the people climbing up while the other half descends, frantically scaling a staircase. Why? Because life needs to pulse; it needs movement. If everything stops, or if we slow down—if "fatigue" takes over—we all sink into a dream state, into an illusion of "motionless life." And that stagnant life flourishes all around us, like wild flora, which, by the way, philosophy doesn't seem to care about at all—likely to its own detriment.

[No content provided to rewrite.]

hollowpilot9 said:For Vivian and anyone else curious about Escher:

I promised I’d share some thoughts from people who actually recognize Escher's mathematical, philosophical, and scientific genius—rather than just seeing him as some "ordinary" graphic artist who "has no clue" about math, philosophy, or science. Is it really that hard to see the connection?
It all starts with Hofstadter's book Gödel, Escher, Bach, where those three letters stand for Kurt Gödel, Escher, and Johann Sebastian Bach. But we're focusing strictly on Escher here, and the story begins like this:

I have an essay by Mark Uršić titled "Homo ex machina? — or — The Boundaries of Isomorphism," where he writes:

"The first time I encountered the book Gödel, Escher, Bach, it happened to fall open to page 714, where I caught sight of an unusual print titled 'Print Gallery' by M. C. Escher. Through its hyperrealism—which, in a sort of self-referential loop, twists itself into extreme surrealism—the piece completes a circle."
After this transformation, Uršić notes, "My eye, the observer's eye, plays tricks on me, mimicking the author's; so it isn't surprising that Escher tucked his tiny, barely visible signature—his very name—into that central white spot."

"Flipping through Gödel, Escher, Bach, we encounter a canon that grows infinitely: Achilles and the tortoise, artificial intelligence, the reflection of a celestial city in a vast ocean, theorems of propositional calculus, the Tower of Babel, non-Euclidean geometry, the Cretan labyrinth, Fibonacci's numbers, ideal crystals in a magnetic field, hieroglyphs, Bach's crab canon, Zen Buddhism, termites on a Möbius strip, tornadoes and quarks, the structural over-determination of ant colony consciousness, brain neurons, Gödel's numbers, the myoglobin schema, Turing's set, a verse from the Quran, Magritte's pipe, computer programs, the recording of a proud fugue... and so on, indefinitely. What do all these worlds have in common—aside from that white spot in the middle of the circle?"

Who would ever guess that "the isomorphism of Bach's canon has anything to do with Escher's 'Print Gallery'"? And it doesn't stop there. Escher's prints constantly depict continuous repetition: a waterfall that acts like a perpetual motion machine, drawing water from its own depths; a procession of twelve priests walking eternally in a circle, some upward and others downward; strangers descending endless stairs only to find themselves back at the start; three spheres mirroring one another; a Möbius strip twisting into itself so that the outside becomes the inside at every turn; architectural spaces where the perspective shifts from mouse-eye to bird's-eye view; an Ouroboros—the snake-dragon biting its own tail; hands drawing other hands, and so on. All of Escher's graphic loops demonstrate a complete, self-sustaining autopoiesis within a single perceptual act."

And so, Escher—the graphic artist—takes the previously disconnected threads of art and math, art and philosophy, and art and science, and uses them to gently introduce Western philosophy into a world of complementarity, polarity, self-creation, and self-contradiction. It’s enough to drive not just the viewers of Escher's work mad, but anyone trying to assign a different meaning to these written thoughts than the ones captured in Escher's drawn thoughts.
To really dive into the implications of Escher's art, my next post will feature excerpts from Vladimir Divide's book "MATHEMATICAL READER," which I bought for a few "pocket change" bucks $3.00, which honestly just goes to show the current level of intellectual depth and academic interest here in the States.

I mean... I'm really just out here splitting hairs at this point.
Look, colleague—mathematics and art have been intertwined since the days of ancient Egypt, yet we still haven't even managed to translate their six foundational scrolls on the subject. People love to talk about the "inseparable connection between art and math," as if it’s some new discovery. It isn't. Three hundred years before M.C. Escher started playing with perception, Leonardo actually pulled off the impossible—fitting the human form perfectly within both a circle and a square. You might call it pure geometry, but that's a simplification—there is an immense amount of complex ratio work and calculation involved behind the scenes. And let's not even get started on the thinkers who came before him; they understood the golden ratio intimately, documenting it extensively in countless treatises long before it became a modern obsession.

The golden ratio isn't some mystical phenomenon—it’s nothing more than a double ratio, pure and simple mathematics. We see traces of it stretching all the way back to ancient Egypt, though I honestly have my doubts about whether those builders actually understood what they were doing. Did they truly grasp this concept of a "divine proportion," or was it handed to them by some higher power? Or, perhaps more likely, did they just stumble upon it through basic aesthetic intuition long before anyone officially "discovered" it? It's much more plausible that they simply gravitated toward it because it looks right, rather than following some complex formula they couldn't possibly have known.

It’s a bit of a misconception that Western artists just stumbled upon the golden ratio out of thin air—they actually earned their stripes by digging through the archives of ancient civilizations, specifically those foundational works coming out of Greece. We're talking about deep dives into texts like those ten volumes on temple architecture penned by Marcus Vitruvius Pollio. It wasn't magic; it was rigorous study. (The 1st century B.C.!!!!)Leonardo's "Vitruvian Man"—the one that gave the whole concept its name—essentially breaks down how mathematics can be applied directly to the arts, specifically within architecture. It’s all about that golden ratio; using pure numbers to dictate the physical structure of our world.

Look, your post is fine, I suppose—but there’s something undeniably off about it. You spend so much time quoting others only to pivot into a few sentences that just... explode with sensationalism. It’s jarring. Honestly, if you’re looking to lean that hard into the drama, maybe you should have considered a career in journalism or politics instead. Now, don't get me wrong—M.C. Escher's work is absolutely fascinating, but...

It’s like this—it serves as a narrow gateway into Western philosophy, dragging us into a world defined by complementarity, polarity, self-creation, and those deep-seated self-contradictions that don't just drive viewers of M.C. Escher's prints mad—they also mess with anyone attempting to find a different kind of meaning in written thought than what is already visually etched into Escher's designs.
Why through small doors ???
He isn't even touching on that kind of stuff—you know, all that nonsense about complementarity, polarity, self-actualization, or those self-contradicting tropes—which is frankly just trash. Absolute garbage. But, I will say this: his imagery is incredibly compelling.
"It drives illustrators crazy"—what?! Look, that only happens when you're sketching out technical diagrams and accidentally misconnect a few nodes... maybe those kinds of images used to mess with people's heads back in the 19th century—or even earlier—but honestly, I don't think they have that kind of effect on anyone today.
Look, like I was saying before—and I’ll stand by this—there is just far too much sensationalism being thrown around here for what is essentially an analysis of a single painting style. It's excessive.
Look, I’m genuinely glad to see the younger generation still taking an interest in art and philosophy—truly, I am—but this shallow, sensationalist approach to everything? It achieves absolutely nothing. It’s all flash and no substance, which I suppose might fly with the crowd that spends their weekends obsessed with *The Bachelor* or some other mindless reality TV trash, but let's be honest: it’s just idiocy reaching new heights. That said, I will give credit where it's due—I respect the effort being put in.
Hey there. Hope everyone's doing alright.
P.S. "If someone has already weighed in on this—well, I clearly missed it."

Arthur Anderson49 said:Well, I think we’re looking at this from totally different angles.

Look, I’m a deep-down conservative, and honestly? Change stresses me out. I’d much rather live by that classic American proverb: "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." The idea of shifting social paradigms gives me the creeps. I'm genuinely terrified of "progress" when there isn't a desperate, burning necessity for it.

Man, I really wish we could have let certain things sit still for a few more centuries. Especially when it comes to tech.

Take the steamship, for example. It was invented over a hundred and fifty years before it actually knocked sailing ships off their pedestal—and right when sailing vessels were hitting their absolute peak commercial prime! The only real advantage the steamship had was needing a smaller crew, and even then, you could basically hire anyone from anywhere and train them on the fly. You only really needed specialized skills for the officers. Ironically, true, high-level sailing technology didn't even reach its zenith until after sailing ships were already being phased out.

Then you’ve got the internal combustion engine replacing the steam engine, where the tech for steam engines only truly hit its peak once they became obsolete. It’s like we only figure out how to make a truly incredible steam engine once we don't actually need one anymore! And the list goes on and on, if you want me to keep rambling.

At one point in history, human nature caught a fever—a total mania for development, speed, and constant advancement that nobody actually asked for. We started chasing "progress" just for the sake of progressing, regardless of the cost or the fallout, and we branded it as this inherently "good" thing that shouldn't even be questioned. Once that happened, this "progress" lost all sense of restraint. Human society basically turned into a frantic, stampeding herd just running toward the horizon.

Sorry, I did it again—totally went off on a tangent!

No, the real kicker was the steamship's ability to keep moving when the wind died down. A sailing ship, on the other hand, would find itself stranded somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, stuck between the US and Europe, with a dwindling supply of fresh water... and if you ever found yourself caught in the doldrums (that dead calm where there isn't a breath of wind), things got grim fast. Since they were transporting horses across the ocean to the US, they had to ensure there was enough food and WATER for the animals—and let me tell you, horses drink just as much as humans do. In those desperate situations, crews were often forced to toss the horses overboard just to preserve enough water to survive until the wind returned... that’s actually where the term "horse latitudes" comes from—roughly between 30° and 35° North and South, areas notorious for those weak, frustrating winds. Even today, sailors passing through those regions swear they can hear ghostly whinnies in the night, or claim they’ve felt the damp nudge of a horse's snout against their neck in the dark. *Njeeeeeeighhh.... pffftttttt....* :-)

Raymond Cook5 said:[No content provided to rewrite.]

I mean... I'm really just out here splitting hairs at this point.
Look, colleague—mathematics and art have been intertwined since the days of ancient Egypt, yet we still haven't even managed to translate their six foundational scrolls on the subject. People love to talk about the "inseparable connection between art and math," as if it’s some new discovery. It isn't. Three hundred years before M.C. Escher started playing with perception, Leonardo actually pulled off the impossible—fitting the human form perfectly within both a circle and a square. You might call it pure geometry, but that's a simplification—there is an immense amount of complex ratio work and calculation involved behind the scenes. And let's not even get started on the thinkers who came before him; they understood the golden ratio intimately, documenting it extensively in countless treatises long before it became a modern obsession.

The golden ratio isn't some mystical phenomenon—it’s nothing more than a double ratio, pure and simple mathematics. We see traces of it stretching all the way back to ancient Egypt, though I honestly have my doubts about whether those builders actually understood what they were doing. Did they truly grasp this concept of a "divine proportion," or was it handed to them by some higher power? Or, perhaps more likely, did they just stumble upon it through basic aesthetic intuition long before anyone officially "discovered" it? It's much more plausible that they simply gravitated toward it because it looks right, rather than following some complex formula they couldn't possibly have known.

It’s a bit of a misconception that Western artists just stumbled upon the golden ratio out of thin air—they actually earned their stripes by digging through the archives of ancient civilizations, specifically those foundational works coming out of Greece. We're talking about deep dives into texts like those ten volumes on temple architecture penned by Marcus Vitruvius Pollio. It wasn't magic; it was rigorous study. (The 1st century B.C.!!!!)Leonardo's "Vitruvian Man"—the one that gave the whole concept its name—essentially breaks down how mathematics can be applied directly to the arts, specifically within architecture. It’s all about that golden ratio; using pure numbers to dictate the physical structure of our world.

Look, your post is fine, I suppose—but there’s something undeniably off about it. You spend so much time quoting others only to pivot into a few sentences that just... explode with sensationalism. It’s jarring. Honestly, if you’re looking to lean that hard into the drama, maybe you should have considered a career in journalism or politics instead. Now, don't get me wrong—M.C. Escher's work is absolutely fascinating, but...

It’s like this—it serves as a narrow gateway into Western philosophy, dragging us into a world defined by complementarity, polarity, self-creation, and those deep-seated self-contradictions that don't just drive viewers of M.C. Escher's prints mad—they also mess with anyone attempting to find a different kind of meaning in written thought than what is already visually etched into Escher's designs.
Why through small doors ???
He isn't even touching on that kind of stuff—you know, all that nonsense about complementarity, polarity, self-actualization, or those self-contradicting tropes—which is frankly just trash. Absolute garbage. But, I will say this: his imagery is incredibly compelling.
"It drives illustrators crazy"—what?! Look, that only happens when you're sketching out technical diagrams and accidentally misconnect a few nodes... maybe those kinds of images used to mess with people's heads back in the 19th century—or even earlier—but honestly, I don't think they have that kind of effect on anyone today.
Look, like I was saying before—and I’ll stand by this—there is just far too much sensationalism being thrown around here for what is essentially an analysis of a single painting style. It's excessive.
Look, I’m genuinely glad to see the younger generation still taking an interest in art and philosophy—truly, I am—but this shallow, sensationalist approach to everything? It achieves absolutely nothing. It’s all flash and no substance, which I suppose might fly with the crowd that spends their weekends obsessed with *The Bachelor* or some other mindless reality TV trash, but let's be honest: it’s just idiocy reaching new heights. That said, I will give credit where it's due—I respect the effort being put in.
Hey there. Hope everyone's doing alright.
P.S. "If someone has already weighed in on this—well, I clearly missed it."

The issue isn't about the style of painting itself, but rather the method of communicating a philosophical concept through drawing—which is precisely why one could call it a philosophical idea, given that it conveys an entire, cohesive worldview.

It essentially boils down to our awareness of the inherent falsehood of a two-dimensional image—something we accept quite easily because our perception is three-dimensional; in other words, we don't instinctively trust a flat plane to be "real." However, the implication here is that our own three-dimensional perception is also untruthful, provided we become aware (through meta-perception) of the fourth dimension... especially if we attempt to illustrate that four-dimensional reality through a continuous sequence of three-dimensional images... and so on.

So, I would advise caution with your conclusions; viewed from a broader dimension, they are invariably imprecise...

Raymond Cook5 said:[No content provided to rewrite.]

I mean... I'm really just out here splitting hairs at this point.
Look, colleague—mathematics and art have been intertwined since the days of ancient Egypt, yet we still haven't even managed to translate their six foundational scrolls on the subject. People love to talk about the "inseparable connection between art and math," as if it’s some new discovery. It isn't. Three hundred years before M.C. Escher started playing with perception, Leonardo actually pulled off the impossible—fitting the human form perfectly within both a circle and a square. You might call it pure geometry, but that's a simplification—there is an immense amount of complex ratio work and calculation involved behind the scenes. And let's not even get started on the thinkers who came before him; they understood the golden ratio intimately, documenting it extensively in countless treatises long before it became a modern obsession.

The golden ratio isn't some mystical phenomenon—it’s nothing more than a double ratio, pure and simple mathematics. We see traces of it stretching all the way back to ancient Egypt, though I honestly have my doubts about whether those builders actually understood what they were doing. Did they truly grasp this concept of a "divine proportion," or was it handed to them by some higher power? Or, perhaps more likely, did they just stumble upon it through basic aesthetic intuition long before anyone officially "discovered" it? It's much more plausible that they simply gravitated toward it because it looks right, rather than following some complex formula they couldn't possibly have known.

It’s a bit of a misconception that Western artists just stumbled upon the golden ratio out of thin air—they actually earned their stripes by digging through the archives of ancient civilizations, specifically those foundational works coming out of Greece. We're talking about deep dives into texts like those ten volumes on temple architecture penned by Marcus Vitruvius Pollio. It wasn't magic; it was rigorous study. (The 1st century B.C.!!!!)Leonardo's "Vitruvian Man"—the one that gave the whole concept its name—essentially breaks down how mathematics can be applied directly to the arts, specifically within architecture. It’s all about that golden ratio; using pure numbers to dictate the physical structure of our world.

Look, your post is fine, I suppose—but there’s something undeniably off about it. You spend so much time quoting others only to pivot into a few sentences that just... explode with sensationalism. It’s jarring. Honestly, if you’re looking to lean that hard into the drama, maybe you should have considered a career in journalism or politics instead. Now, don't get me wrong—M.C. Escher's work is absolutely fascinating, but...

It’s like this—it serves as a narrow gateway into Western philosophy, dragging us into a world defined by complementarity, polarity, self-creation, and those deep-seated self-contradictions that don't just drive viewers of M.C. Escher's prints mad—they also mess with anyone attempting to find a different kind of meaning in written thought than what is already visually etched into Escher's designs.
Why through small doors ???
He isn't even touching on that kind of stuff—you know, all that nonsense about complementarity, polarity, self-actualization, or those self-contradicting tropes—which is frankly just trash. Absolute garbage. But, I will say this: his imagery is incredibly compelling.
"It drives illustrators crazy"—what?! Look, that only happens when you're sketching out technical diagrams and accidentally misconnect a few nodes... maybe those kinds of images used to mess with people's heads back in the 19th century—or even earlier—but honestly, I don't think they have that kind of effect on anyone today.
Look, like I was saying before—and I’ll stand by this—there is just far too much sensationalism being thrown around here for what is essentially an analysis of a single painting style. It's excessive.
Look, I’m genuinely glad to see the younger generation still taking an interest in art and philosophy—truly, I am—but this shallow, sensationalist approach to everything? It achieves absolutely nothing. It’s all flash and no substance, which I suppose might fly with the crowd that spends their weekends obsessed with *The Bachelor* or some other mindless reality TV trash, but let's be honest: it’s just idiocy reaching new heights. That said, I will give credit where it's due—I respect the effort being put in.
Hey there. Hope everyone's doing alright.
P.S. "If someone has already weighed in on this—well, I clearly missed it."

Honestly, there's always going to be some tiny flaw lurking somewhere, even when you aren't actively hunting for it.

You said, "it's just something that happens when you're doing technical drawings and misalign things..." and now you've got to be really careful to smooth out that little imperfection... ( *sigh* ) 🙂

At the end of the day, making a mistake—whether it's due to a slip of the hand, a momentary lapse in focus, or just pure clumsiness—is a completely different thing than a deliberate creative choice, the result of deep thought, or someone's actual artistic philosophy and imagination...

As for the rest of what you wrote, I get that you were probably reacting to what you correctly spotted and bolded regarding that "previously inconceivable connection between math and art," which is totally fine; it deserved a correction, but I felt like you swung a bit too far in the other direction, which is why I'm responding this way.

By the way, our friend Geza hasn't posted in the philosophy section for quite a while; maybe your post will actually goad him back into the conversation. 🙂