I wrote and published this 8-page short story–Purim & My Bangladeshi Friend–a little while back. As I said, today is Purim, and it’s Purim again in a month. So my short story is, I think, once again, timely, and sadly, once again, all too relevant to life in our shared West, in our shared modernity.
Seth’s story is here.
(Today’s post is a rerun because Lex wrote a post about Seth’s story a couple of years ago. Lex’s post is still worth reading.)
“Perhaps you remember in college reading The Meno and Socrates’ dialogue with the nameless slave, where, through the use of the dialectic, the slave recovers inborn or innate knowledge, or, at least, is led to articulate an intuitive concept in mathematics without having had the benefit of any formal education.”
Great story. It’s funny how certain narratives about past history emerge to satisfy present politics. They take on a life of their own because it appears to jibe so well with fads and conditioned sensibilities. It happens all the time with Israel. It seems only through faith and reason and digging into our stored values do we cut threw the chaos and nonsense to come to the real truth.