Monday, 27 November 2017





PERFECT VERB = He inspected; He has inspected
IMPERFECT VERB = He inspects; He is inspecting
ACTIVE PARTICIPLE = inspector; inspecting
PASSIVE PARTICIPLE = inspected; an inspected thing
VERBAL NOUN = inspection

Wednesday, 15 November 2017





مدرس teacher 
شاعر  poet
مشهور  famous
حب  love
عذاب  torture
كلب  dog
مجلة magazine
هو  he; it
هي she; it

1) المدرس  شاعر  The teacher is a poet.

2) المدرس  مشهور  The teacher is famous.

3)  مدرس مشهور  a  famous teacher

4) المدرس  المشهور  the famous teacher

5) مدرس الشاعر (IDHOOFAH) the teacher of the poet

6) الحب عذاب  Love is torture.

7) هو مدرس He is a teacher.

8) هو كلب  It is a dog.

9) هل هو مدرس ؟  Is he a teacher?

10) أهو مدرس؟  Is he a teacher?

11) آلمدرس شاعر؟ Is the teacher a poet? (compare with 1)

12) هي مدرسة She is a teacher.

13) هي مجلة  It is a magazine.

14) هي مدرسة  شهورة She is a famous teacher.

Wednesday, 12 April 2017


“The only thing I say I know,” Socrates tells us in the Symposium, “is the art of love (ta erôtika) (177d8–9) on words facilitated by the fact that the noun erôs (“love”) and the verb erôtan (“to ask questions”) sound as if they are etymologically connected—a connection explicitly exploited in the Cratylus (398c5-e5). Socrates knows about the art of love in that—but just insofar as—he knows how to ask questions"


The story is told that once upon a time a young Persian prince fell ill with a mysterious ailment no one could diagnose. He lost weight and grew weaker by the day, refusing to eat until finally, he became debilitated and took to his bed. When the physicians who attended him despaired of finding a cure, his distraught parents turned to the great Ibn Sina, (known in the West as Avicenna), the most celebrated doctor and savant of his day. They begged him to visit their son and use his famous skills to treat him.

Is there an anecdote, or is unrequited love a wound that never heals?
Ibn Sina agreed, and on coming to see the patient first inquired as to his symptoms and the history of his malady. He then entered the sickroom and examined the prince, lying listless and pale in his bed, with great attention. This done, he sat beside the bed and, placing his fingers on the young man’s pulse, he asked one of the attendants to recite all the names of all the streets which were in that city. When the attendant came to the mention of a certain street, Ibn Sina noticed that the patient’s pulse rate had quickened, whereupon, he asked the attendant to recite the names of all the families who resided in that street. At the mention of a certain family, once more the patient’s pulse increased. Ibn Sina then asked, “Does this family have any daughters?” To which the answer was, “yes.”

So he stood up and said to the prince’s parents, “The diagnosis is clear. Your son loves one of the daughters of that family. The disease is love, and the cure is marriage.”


Eros In Plato

Alfred Geier uncovers the erotic side of Socratic philosophy.

In a brief and very plain dialogue with Agathon in Plato’s Symposium, Socrates asks Agathon whether eros (= passionate love) is the sort of thing which is “of something” or “of nothing.” Agathon answers, “Yes, indeed it is [of something].” This is a most remarkable answer, because Agathon is sure about the existence of an object of erotic love, without yet knowing what that object, that ‘something’, is. But this, in sum and in substance, gives the very character of eros – namely, to be sure about the existence of its object, without yet knowing what that object is. Socrates continues, “Guard this [eros] by yourself, by remembering whatever.” The guarding is necessary apparently because the eros might easily depart, which implies that eros as Agathon presents it is not a permanent acquisition. Further, Socrates ordering Agathon to guard it ‘by’ himself, instead of ‘in’ himself, implies that eros does not dwell in Agathon as a desire or emotion of his soul. In fact, Eros is later described as a “great daimon” – an intermediary between men and gods. Also, what does Socrates mean by ‘remembering whatever’? How can one remember what he does not yet know? The only way he can ‘remember’ here is if he never forgets, for one moment, that he does not yet know ‘whatever’ the object of desire is.

Socrates now asks Agathon if eros desires and loves its object or not; and, further, whether it is in having or in not having the object that one desires and loves it. Socrates argues that it is necessary that desire depends entirely on lack, and that to continue, eros thus does not ever ‘have’ its object. Socrates summarizes the object of erotic desire as that which is not at hand and that which is not present and that which it does not have and that which it itself is not.

Later in the Symposium, Socrates asks who Eros’ parents are, and answers his own question with a myth. Eros’ mother is called Penia – Poverty – and her father Poros – Resource. Why these parents? Poverty, as an essential part of the nature of Eros, means Eros is never rich. Resource is also an integral part of the nature of Eros: therefore, Eros is never at a loss; which is to say, Eros will always find a way. And since Eros is neither rich nor at a loss, he is between wisdom and ignorance – or, “Eros is a philosopher.”

Socrates’ Erotic Method

Eros is at the heart of the so-called Socratic Method. The goal of the Socratic procedure is not merely to refute someone, but through the refutation to try to convince that person that what he thinks he knows, he really does not know (yet). Thus, the person refuted receives a great benefit from the refutation. The refutation is usually accomplished by several repetitions by Socrates, either of the same opinion or of a sequence of opinions, so that the person being refuted becomes less and less certain about what he thinks he knows. Yet the consequence of this decrease of certainty is that a yearning (pothos) begins to arise for the absent knowledge. This yearning transforms into an eros precisely for that which the person does not any longer think he knows or has. If an eros for truth does not arise, the refutation, however logically excellent it may be, is in effect a failure. Thus the art and heart of refutation is thoroughly erotic.

Truth and the True Socrates

In the Symposium, Alcibiades gives voice to some excessively lavish praise of Socrates, his former teacher. He tells his audience, and us, how Socrates once stood perfectly still for twenty- four hours, apparently deep in thought. Alcibiades also asserts that within Socrates’ soul are ‘divine words’. He also describes Socrates as strange (atopos: literally, ‘nowhere’). Yet what is most striking about Alcibiades’ description of Socrates, is that he seems to be completely convinced that he knows the ‘true’ Socrates.

Early in the Symposium, before Alcibiades arrives, Socrates characterized his own wisdom as paltry, disputable, as a dream. This is not false modesty on Socrates’ part, but an honest and intelligent appraisal from a man who values wisdom very deeply. It is not likely Socrates would himself ever boast that he has divine words in his soul. Nor does Socrates offer any information here about what sort of activity went on inside him at such times as his twenty-four-hour thinking marathon. Alcibiades’ account of the ‘true’ Socrates is therefore highly suspect.

However, in another of Plato’s dialogues, Lysis, there’s an account by Socrates of the sort of thing that goes on inside him when he’s thinking. From this account we may be able to understand the true (ie, Plato’s) Socrates: “And then I don’t know from where a most strange suspicion entered me, that what had been agreed to by us is not true…” Socrates says. He and his interlocutors are thus motivated by a newly-arisen eros to pursue and find the truth. Yet, according to Socrates, the suspicion does not arise from himself (“I don’t know from where…”); and it is not said to come from any divine source. The suspicion has a completely mysterious origin; yet it produces the greatest possible benefit – becoming undeceived about the truth.

The suspicion does not come from Socrates, but it does come to Socrates. This is perhaps the most trustworthy test of a true philosopher – the person to whom such a suspicion of claims to truth arises unsought, producing thereby an eros for the truth. It seems clear that such an individual, and not Alcibiades’ mocking, exaggerated, and ambivalent caricature, is the true Socrates. Alcibiades treated Socrates as the embodiment or incarnation of Eros; but in the Lysis we find the true manifestation of Eros in the active, suspicious soul of Socrates. It follows that when we come to know what a true philosopher, such as Socrates, is, then, and only then, will we become able to fully understand eros.

© Prof. Alfred Geier 2011
Alfred Geier is a professor of classics at the University of Rochester and author of Plato’s Erotic Thought: The Tree of the Unknown (2002). He is working on a sequel on Plato’s writings on friendship.


The man then (Before the FALL), would have sown the seed, and the woman received it, as need required it, the generative organs being moved by the will, not excited by lust .....So in those days, the wife would receive into the womb her husband's seed without rupture of the hymen. (The City of God, 14.24)

The erect penis was the instrument that passed the first sin. (Sermons 151:5)

REASON: What about a wife? Would you not be delighted a fair, modest, obedient wife, one who is educated or whom you could easily touch, one who would bring along just enough dowry so that she would be no burden to your leisure?
AUGUSTINE: No matter how much you choose to portray and endow her with all good qualities, I have decided that there is nothing I should avoid so much as marriage. I know nothing which brings the manly mind down from the heights more than a woman's caresses and the joining of bodies without which one cannot have a wife. (Soliloquies: The Nature of the Good, chap 18)

"In Paradise, it would have been possible to beget offspring without foul sexual passion. The sexual organs would have been stimulated into necessary activity by will-power alone, just as the will controls other organs. Then, without being goaded on by the allurement of passion, the husband could have relaxed upon his wife's breasts with complete peace of mind and bodily tranquility, that part of his body not activated by tumultuous passion, but brought into service by the deliberate use of power when the need arose, the seed dispatched into the womb with no loss of his wife's virginity. So, the two sexes could have come together for impregnation and conception by an act of will, rather than by sexual passionful cravings" (City of God, Book 14, Chapter 26).

"For it was not fit that his creature should blush at the work of his Creator. But by a just punishment, the disobedience of their genitals was the retribution to the disobedience of the first man, for which disobedience they blushed when they covered with fig-leaves those shameful parts which previously were not shameful . . . They were suddenly so ashamed of their nakedness, which they were daily in the habit of looking upon without embarassment, that they could now no longer bear those sexual members naked, but immediately took care to cover them! Did they not thereby perceive those members to be disobedient to the choice of their will, which certainly they ought to have ruled like the rest (of their body) by their voluntary command?" (Against Two Letters of the Pelagians 1.31-32)

"The question before us, then, is not about the motion of bodies, without which there could not be sexual intercourse; but about the shameful motion of the organs of generation, which certainly could be absent. And yet the fructifying connection could still be there, if the organs of generation were not obedient to sexual passion, but simply to the will, like the other members of the body. Is it not even now the case, in "the body of this death", that a command is given to the foot, the arm, the finger, the lip, or the tongue, and they are instantly set in motion at this intimation of our will? And (to take a still more wonderful case) even the liquid contained in the urinary vessels obeys the command to flow from us at our pleasure, and when we are not pressed with its overflow; while the vessels, also, which contain the liquid, discharge without difficulty, if they are in a healthy state, the office assigned them by our will of propelling, pressing out, and ejecting their contents. With how much greater ease and quietness, then, if the generative organs of our body were compliant, would natural motion ensue, and human conception be effected . . . ” (On Sexual desire, Book II, chap. 53.)

The carnal company between man and wife is for the sake of procreation of children, not satisfaction of lusts. (Bede's Opera Historica 1.145)