And what's that point? Well the books start with a rich arrogant ambitious youth taking off as soon as he was challenged to consider truth and reality seriously, and it all ends with Plato taking off with the gold.
So at the very minimum, you all should have your ears pricked up with the talk of gold.
Remember 'the Maltese Falcon?' 'An admiral of pirates, chanced upon a bird made entirely of solid gold, and covered it in black paint to obscure its true value.'
What's to some extent quite astonishing to me, is that of all the hundreds or thousands of Oxford dons who claim to have gone to serious academic (and let's not forget the very word comes from Plato himself) institutions, and who will all tell you they have read these kinds of books - however, bearing in mind it was in fact my own grand uncle James Ward who bequeathed his private collection of the works of Plato to Oxford, and no one else... - they simply cannot have.
Because, you see, the secret of the golden tablets is in the very last book of Plato written before his disappearance, and which sets out something about the gold, and not to do with any physical location as to where to find it.
And no one ever, in modern recorded history, to my knowledge, has ever written about this - which leads me to suspect that many people might have read some parts of Plato, but more or less no one has, read and understood all of the books in their correct order from beginning to end - this fact of how to make real gold by the employment of true philosophy. It may be, in fact, that the medieval alchemists' search for the philosopher's stone, really was a series of attempts at procuring what Plato and his own teachers had laid down. Yet even so, you do get peculiar mixed-up versions of the basic idea every now and then via public figures backed by Oxford - like JK Rowling, for instance. Now there's a good example. They have some idea, except it's the wrong idea.
All the same, the standard historical narrative says that no one ever found the body of Plato after he took that rowing trip. And so, the logical facts are, my friends, that neither you nor anyone else knows what really happened and if you say anything that you think 'might' have happened it is pure speculation on your part. As well as on the part of any 'expert' who simply has no factual knowledge of what happened.
The kind of place and event where I more likely will be - but it's the same thing, more or less... |
However, you and I, those of us here who have been following closely all along, we know what did happen, don't we; don't you?
Oh yes you do.
For one day, you too shall die. Or else, take a rowing trip away from prying eyes...
Going back to my friends the rich young things who put their hands up in the air, and gyrate in the relative darkness, with fluorescent paint all over themselves - it's quite hard to filter through the thousands of kids like this to get to those with the music deep in their souls.
Of the groups of rich people, most leave with some sense of 'self-development' or progress or whatever they want to say, and a tiny tiny percentage -, perhaps one, perhaps two, don't really leave at all. They row out, yes, but they don't leave.
The first of the 'second line filters' is the sine wave, or curve...
And the difficult to hear lyrics in the music below say: 'so I'll be a fleeting sound, a light-ray out on the waters...'
Don't forget, where the gold comes from. You want gold, right?