07-24-2016, 09:02 PM
"No one's sure."
Arturo answers William as if the boy is in on whatever methods or manners are being supported in this chess game before them all. There's no sly wink or even a suggestion of good humour, simply a shrug and a slight roll of the eyes, as if the Old man had long given up on trying to sort out the specifics that William was only just being exposed to.
"Gods..." Arturo seems to return to the topic that has Margot tripping over her internal monologue, threatening divulge some youthful opinion. "A word more devoted to 'excuses' than it ever was to worship. The very idea is terribly human in nature. We want something to pay homage to that directly represents who we are and in turn, give us the chance to reach for that covet worthy spot. It would never occur to most of us that all powerful and impressive beings as Gods are often painted, might appear as multi-fractal entities, or thousand tentacled monstrosities or a radiant light with no communicative option beyond the slightest of dimmings or brightenings..." A tangent now, truly, as Arturo turns from the Chessboard and begins to venture back into the Study proper which, after regarding the board and the strange oval shape of the room bowing out around it, the Study looks positively benign, even 'decorative'.
"Gods are an invention of who we want to be, simplified to a standard we can adhere and adjust to...Either that, or it's some enterprising thing pretending at the imagery we paint in our heads, to make it easier to convince us of their agendas. Our hubris..." Hands behind his back, murmuring under his breath on his way back to the desk and table and the chairs.
"Academia is designed to generalize in the face of What's known, as opposed to 'What's guessed at'. Most will give you the answers that satisfy recognition. That's why any thesis requires backed up evidence and recognition of prior sources. Proof that you're onto something. Slow. Tedious. Pointless, really." Arturo climbs back into his seat, the shotgun still stretched across the desk, that aging visage regarding the kids with careful determination.
"That in mind, who am I to stand in the way of young anarchy?" He offers a quick smirk beneath that goatee. Then-
"What do you want to know?"
Arturo answers William as if the boy is in on whatever methods or manners are being supported in this chess game before them all. There's no sly wink or even a suggestion of good humour, simply a shrug and a slight roll of the eyes, as if the Old man had long given up on trying to sort out the specifics that William was only just being exposed to.
"Gods..." Arturo seems to return to the topic that has Margot tripping over her internal monologue, threatening divulge some youthful opinion. "A word more devoted to 'excuses' than it ever was to worship. The very idea is terribly human in nature. We want something to pay homage to that directly represents who we are and in turn, give us the chance to reach for that covet worthy spot. It would never occur to most of us that all powerful and impressive beings as Gods are often painted, might appear as multi-fractal entities, or thousand tentacled monstrosities or a radiant light with no communicative option beyond the slightest of dimmings or brightenings..." A tangent now, truly, as Arturo turns from the Chessboard and begins to venture back into the Study proper which, after regarding the board and the strange oval shape of the room bowing out around it, the Study looks positively benign, even 'decorative'.
"Gods are an invention of who we want to be, simplified to a standard we can adhere and adjust to...Either that, or it's some enterprising thing pretending at the imagery we paint in our heads, to make it easier to convince us of their agendas. Our hubris..." Hands behind his back, murmuring under his breath on his way back to the desk and table and the chairs.
"Academia is designed to generalize in the face of What's known, as opposed to 'What's guessed at'. Most will give you the answers that satisfy recognition. That's why any thesis requires backed up evidence and recognition of prior sources. Proof that you're onto something. Slow. Tedious. Pointless, really." Arturo climbs back into his seat, the shotgun still stretched across the desk, that aging visage regarding the kids with careful determination.
"That in mind, who am I to stand in the way of young anarchy?" He offers a quick smirk beneath that goatee. Then-
"What do you want to know?"