2021.11.30 17:23 FrenchBoxer40 *IS IT WORTH THE MONEY?* Costco Has New Pokemon Cards! (opening)
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2021.11.30 17:23 EducationalPlant579 Naughty lil slut
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2021.11.30 17:23 Useful-Bicycle Is it too late to increase my supply?
I’m 8 weeks PP. Kinda gave up on pumping a few weeks ago and dropped to 3 pumps a day. Already had low supply despite pumping 8-10x daily in the early weeks. I make about 0.5 oz to 1.5 oz per session these days so I’m getting around 3 oz daily.
First, is 3 oz even enough to make a difference in my daughters health?? Because 3x a day is still a lot of work if there’s no real benefit.
Second, if I can increase my supply this late in the game I kinda wanna try. Will it require pumping 8x a day again with power pumps and MOTN pumps? How long would I have to do that before seeing an increase?
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2021.11.30 17:23 Cttakashi1 Theory: Coinbase settled the dispute before rent is due. I’ve seen Robinhood handle the timing similarly
2021.11.30 17:23 kittypowpower Family calls this lemon a "Nipple Fruit". It's edible with a thick skin but it's not sour or sweet. It has more of a floral taste with a hint of lemon.
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2021.11.30 17:23 Throwawayyy1602 Dropped out of pre-med. graduated and feeling lost.
Some background info: I’m 22 and I have a BA in Psychology. My original plan was to go to med school but i did not get in and i basically lost all motivation. In hindsight, I should’ve picked a better major instead of putting all my eggs in one basket. Right now, I’m just working at starbucks saving up money.I did some thinking during this “gap year” and I realized I didn’t want to have anything to do with healthcare. I grew up in an Asian family so you already know doctor or lawyer were the only career options for me. I’m kinda feeling depressed and lost right now because I know you can’t do much with a degree in psych. I know you can do HR but i’m not sure it’s the right career for me. I know right now tech is a booming industry so maybe I can throw my lot in there? I’m not computer savvy and I’m not sure if I will enjoy coding.
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2021.11.30 17:23 dmarr769 Veeze (🅱️🅾️/WavyNavy🌊) & Baby Money (3G ♿️) on Baby’s World falling out wit the rest of the guys summer 2020
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2021.11.30 17:23 bigt8409 Squad due to leave SA on Thursday. Will stay in a ‘UK Government hotel’
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2021.11.30 17:23 fellowNigerian Just rolled into a curb
2021.11.30 17:23 Indig012 Found this guy while unloading Christmas decoration from my shed. Pretty sure it is a brown recluse, just trying to confirm but so, is there anything I can do to rid them from the boxes before I bring them indoors?
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2021.11.30 17:23 sri_mahalingam The Great Empire || Ch 1: Takshashila Khanda || 1.10: Hero worship
“It was as if, in response to the relentless oppression against men’s lives and economy by wicked emperors, a voice had sounded from the heavens, and its words were: Neti Kautilyah!”
This is part of a story I'm writing called The Great Empire, a fictionalized account of Kautilya's rise to power and the formation of the Mauryan empire. As it is a fictional work based on history whose precise details are not known or vary greatly between primary sources, many elements of the story may be jarring to readers familiar with modern, "medievalized" adaptations. See the Preface for a list of specific plot points that some readers may find offensive.
Link to Contents for other chapters | Link to FictionPress book
Taxila was losing.
It was as if dark clouds had formed over the arena at Salatura, yet such clouds that passed without providing rainfall.
Victory after victory, the university, with all its scholars and students, had forgotten the feeling of defeat.
In the nearly four hundred years of the Annual Debates held in the honour of the ancient philosopher Yajnavalkya, from whose works all schools of thought had birthed, the site and sponsors of the debates had changed numerous times, but the contest had remained the most prestigious of such events for scholars and students alike; its pride and prestige remaining unchallenged even by the Royal Debates of Gandhara.
Scholars would pour in year after year, coveting the contest’s generous prizes, and wealthy families fought for the honour of sponsoring it, just as cities competed for the glory of hosting the debate.
The university currently held a twenty-year winning streak, but this year, after reaching the finals, found itself dangerously close to losing the crown to the Mushtika University of Sindh – truly a humiliation, as that was an institution that those of Taxila had long held to be merely an inferior imitation of their own university.
It was not because the sponsor, the wealthy merchant Valgujangha, was himself of Sindh, and had received his education at the Mushtika University – to the contrary, Valgujangha’s repute for fairness in all his business dealings was matched only by his honesty and truthfulness.
No. As the final contestants warred with words in the central arena, it became very obvious that Taxila had grown complacent in its position. Its representative, the seventeen-year-old student Sushrava, was obviously woefully unprepared and lacking in clarity of thought – stumbling over his words, he allowed himself to be completely dominated by Pratikshatra, the older man who represented Mushtika.
Curious and wide-eyed, an eleven-year-old Greek girl watched from the back of the great ampitheatre.
Between heroism and discipline, which quality is more desirable in an army? That was the question.
“Infused with valour, a skilful warrior may slay hundreds from atop his chariot,” said Pratikshatra, “For of a man who knows no duty but that of war, surrender does not even cross his mind.”
“I hold that to be impossible, O respected Professor,” Sushrava objected, his voice nearly a squeak, “For such feats as are quoted in accounts – of an archer piercing thousands of armoured men with a single arrow, or a soldier crushing the skulls of half an army with a swing of his mace – cannot truly be realistic, as they defy reason.”
Pratikshatra smiled concedingly. “Indeed the precise numbers may be bardic exaggeration,” he allowed, “But the fact remains that some warriors were exalted for their incredible skill and competence, and raised above others in the minds of their followers – thus my stance: that it is such qualities that a commander must inculcate in his army, rather than discipline.”
Sushrava took a full half-minute to respond.
Finally, he admitted: “Such warriors are to be honoured. I’m afraid, however, O respected Professor, that the Age of Heroes has long passed. The present is the Age of Empires, and imperial armies function on discipline more than bravery. It is not courage, but the ability of a commander to strategize effectively, that allows small armies to defeat great ones.”
It was not unheard of for a Greek to receive an education in India.
Two centuries ago, Pythagoras, the son of a wealthy man from Samos, had spent some years at Taxila. He had learned from the scholars here the laws of mathematics and music, and to introspect on the mind and on the meaning and causes of knowledge (a study he later gave the name “philosophy”). Donning simple robes and rejecting meat as learned Indians did, he brought these ideas back with him to Greece, and thus the light of Classical Greece was lit by the torch of India.
“Why is the Age of Heroes past us?” Pratikshatra questioned. “Surely it is human actions, and not the intervention of gods, that has lead to the dearth of heroes. You are young and naive, Sushrava, but it must be said, that is this very discipline that you exalt, that has crushed the heroism of the kshatriyas. In commanding them to conform to those rules that their superiors have set for them, we deprive them of the skill for intrigue, of their capacity to plan in situations not yet anticipated. And thus our dark times were born.”
It was also not unheard of for a woman to receive an education in India.
Indeed, even in the earliest days, among the first debaters against Yajnavalkya himself had been the firebrand princess Maitreyi – who had questioned him on matters of afterlife and immortality – and Vachaknavi, the daughter of a minister, who had debated him on pertinent questions on the natural sciences. Both women would later become his wives.
Nonetheless, both occurrences were relatively rare, and the result of odd circumstances.
In the case of Thera Nicator, that circumstance was the untimely death of both her parents in a domestic squabble after her mother Laodice had claimed, to her father Antiochus’s distaste, that her children were sired by the god Apollo. Of course, the terming of this circumstances as “odd” or “unusual” was questionable: in Macedon, the men were violent, the women were insane, everyone was perpetually drunk, and glassware was abundant.
While it was still not at all usual to send away an eleven-year-old girl away from family to study in the East, her brother Seleucus had been worried about her being used as a hostage during the political violence in Greece surrounding subsequent troubles in the Macedonian noble family – much of such affairs he himself was involved in.
She had been admitted alongside a class of Persian students who studied various arts of Persia and India – however, upon arriving at Taxila, she had found herself more drawn to studying the sciences of the Indian philosophers, and so she had abandoned her living quarters in Pushkalavati to stay within the campus of the University of Taxila itself, as the relatively studious Indians did.
“But the capacity to plan in situations not yet anticipated is precisely the argument for discipline,” Sushrava argued. “Discipline is the art of developing solutions in anticipation of problems instead of in reaction to them, and based on such considerations developing protocols to follow that will then be adhered to rigidly, and ensure victory.”
Upon arriving at Taxila, she had quickly heard tales of Chanakya, the Golden Boy of Taxila, who was currently away, for at least three weeks, on a dangerous expedition to Magadha.
In all honesty, she found most of the viewpoints attributed to him to be so outrageous that it would be no exaggeration to say that merely hearing such opinions expressed had left her scarred for life. She took great objection to his thesis that “wealth and wealth alone is important”, his defence of usury went completely against the teachings of Aristotle that she had held so sacred, and his apparent neutrality between many systems of government seemed plainly amoral.
Yet it was hard not to develop an admiration for his brilliance.
“A strategist cannot anticipate every possible outcome in battle,” Pratikshatra retorted harshly, “Nor every trap that the enemy may institute in the midst of the battle. Thus it is necessary for this onus to fall on the individual soldier, to think for himself in the absence of, or in spite of orders. An army that possesses discipline alone is merely a phalanx of blind men walking off the edge of a cliff.”
“ … ”
“ … ”
The crowd watched.
A wave of dejection had washed over the crowd from Taxila – many of its younger members, who had never seen their university defeated in contest, found it inconceivable to so much as imagine what was unfolding before their very eyes.
“ … ”
Sushrava bowed his head.
There was a collective intake of breath from the audience – scholars, students, merchants, nobles, peasants who had climbed the trees surrounding the amphitheatre to watch the iconic debates.
The despair was palpable.
Even Thera, who was new to the university and to India, who did not yet fully grasp or relate to all its ways, understood the significance of the gesture.
It was the end of an era.
“You have convinced me of the truth of your viewpoint,” said Sushrava. “I had in my naivety, dismissed the entire enterprise of heroism as chaotic and based in emotion rather than reason. I had not considered the intellectual and strategic aspects of heroism—” he breathed in deeply, “—I concede.”
Not one man spoke.
Not one student from Taxila, not one student from Mushtika.
There was no ritual exchange of congratulatory pleasantries.
For those of Mushtika were proud – but to be merry, to rejoice, when those of Taxila stood humiliated – like a defeated army watching their capital city ravaged before their very eyes – like a farmer watching his fields burn to a day before the harvest – would have been the act of a barbarian.
An eternity followed.
Valgujangha rose at last, preparing to break the silence. Solemn and ceremonial, he addressed the attendees—
—just as a young voice cried out from somewhere near the East door: “I do not!”
Gasps. Elation on the faces of the Taxila boys, and dread on the Mushtika ones’.
Even as she did not recognize the voice herself, Thera inferred, from the sudden reinvigoration in her classmates, and the name Chanakya formed on her lips.
Students from across the amphitheatre scrambled, shuffled in place, to make way for the golden boy of Taxila – their faces red and their hearts beating.
“Cha-na-kya! – Cha-na-kya!”
Passionate informal drumming deafened her ears, and Thera had to lean on her toes to peer past the rows of heads, still catching but a quick glimpse.
Chanakya rode in on a horse, flanked by two boys too regally dressed to be his attendants. He did not tie his hair into a top-bun as was the standard for students at Taxila, instead leaving it untied, and his dhoti had taken a silvery-white hue.
“Forgive me, Sriman ,” he said, dismounting, “My visit to Pataliputra involved a number of unforeseen detours – I request your permission to represent my university in the debates of the last day.”
Thera could hardly imagine so much pomp in the citadel of Corinth if Poseidon himself rose from the sea in mid-noon.
Valgujangha was smiling, but his assistant called for order in the crowd, and the students (as well as some particularly excitable professors) slowly began to return to their places.
“This is the final debate, Chanakya. Do you wish for a summary of the arguments made so far by each side?”
Chanakya grinned in amusement.
“I predict,” he said, inhaling deeply as if to relax, “That my opponent’s arguments are as follows: warriors used to be more powerful in the Age of Heroes than they are now, that’s because discipline reduces creativity and valour, and commanders can’t predict the various outcomes of battle thus soldiers must be capable of making decisions individually on their own accord—”
Thera’s jaw dropped. The crowd exploded into cheers of amazement, prompting the attendant to hush them once again.
“—he has surely also made the tired analogy of a disciplined army to a phalanx of men blindly walking off a cliff even as they see its edge, and made the claim that a rigidly defined army can be defeated as it cannot adapt to its enemy.”
Pratikshatra shifted awkwardly. “In all honesty, I did not think of the last point.”
Chanakya looked quite proud of himself.
“Well,” he addressed the Professor, “Perhaps I should then also formulate your own rebuttals before you make them, then I would have a worthy opponent.”
The crowd erupted into cheers. This time it was Chanakya who hushed them.
“Instead of addressing each one of your points,” he said, “I shall begin with a general observation about the nature of your arguments, and indeed of many debaters who hold incorrect stances on questions stated in of the form of comparisons. It is as if you have, instead of defeating your opponent in a swordfight, defeated a cripple of your own creation claiming – and successfully convincing the audience and even your opponent – that cripple to be your opponent.
“In all your arguments, you have assumed the image, for I cannot even call it a defining characteristic, of a disciplined army as one that follows a certain small set of rigid and simplistic rules. You have assumed the image of a heroic army as one comprised of valiant and creative soldiers. Between these two, I have no doubt that the latter is superior. However, this is not what is commonly meant by these terms.”
“Your rebuttal is merely a game of semantics, Chanakya,” said Pratikshatra proudly, “Surely fire by any other name burns just as hot.”
“Indeed, you may call your mother poison and obesity edible, but that would not enable one to safely consume poison. If the objective of such arguments was merely a play with invented words, then your argument would be valid, as well as completely trivial. But the purpose of thought is action, and you expect your arguments to apply to the more common meanings of these terms. In doing so, you behave like a merchant who secures a large deal by promising silk fabrics, but instead delivers cotton or linen apparel – or like a policeman who is told to execute a man by a certain name, but not finding the criminal, gives that name to an innocent civilian and executes him – or like a preacher who describes his religion in vague platitudes, and demands your blood from you once you join his cult – or like a scholar of a misguided school who says that in his ideal form of government, people will act very nobly and charitably, yet does not specify at all how his plans will cause them to do so – or like a legislator who, in his argument to forbid a practice, uses only its most wicked manifestations as examples for his rhetorics, even as his own proposed laws do not prevent such evil. In short: your arguments are the intellectual equivalent of fraud.”
The faces of all those of Taxila – including Thera herself, she imagined – shone with a wordless emotion: like the faces of a routed army watching its champion ride into battle in full metal armour to turn the tides of war – like the faces of the gods when Vishnu rose to defend them – or like the face of the Earth goddess when Brahma descended to rescue her – manifesting like dawn at the night’s darkest.
Rather ironic comparisons, Thera thought, as Chanakya was literally arguing against the importance of heroism.
Pratikshatra pressed on. “Your analogies are merely insults,” he complained, “You have not explained how I have committed this fallacy you claim.”
Chanakya smiled wryly. “Surely you are a scholar of repute yourself, and recognize the mistakes in your argument when they are pointed at to you? But I shall spell it out. When people speak of a heroic army, they do not state any plan that will cause the individual soldiers of an army to act in a creative or valiant manner – instead, they simply propose the elimination of discipline and claim that this will miraculously cause this outcome, even as this is contradicted by history – for though we deride the Magadhas as barbarians, in part precisely for their disciplined armies, it remains true that they were able to completely annihilate the relatively undisciplined armies of the states to its West.”
“Surely you realize, Chanakya, that prior to the introduction of discipline, all such demonstrations of heroism were common and widespread among the armies of the Mahajanapada states?”
“There are many levels on which your argument can be refuted. Firstly, one may say that you have no way to demonstrate that this change was caused by the introduction of discipline. Second, one may point out the military successes of Magadha against the other states. But a more fundamental refutation is possible. While my classmate likely made claims to the effect of – heroic armies were suited for the Age of Heroes, but that glorious age is lost to us now, thus as we must make do with iron for the age of gold is lost to us, we must make do with disciplined imperial armies – in truth, there never was an Age of Heroes—”
Thera gasped, then shut her mouth when she got some weird looks.
“—for such an age is not found in the Vedas, merely in the poetry of bards. The Battle of the Ten kings was not won by warriors who slew ten times their own number, it was won by the cunning of Sage Vasishta who opened a dam to flood and kill off much of the unsuspecting enemy armies before the battle even began, and who shrewdly placed, in a manner that did not raise suspicion among scouts and spies, his own army into position to attack on command during the enemy’s rescue operations. The latter is certainly the exercise of discipline.”
The unbashed anti-romanticism of such words. It was shocking that they were even legal.
Thera felt rather conflicted – on one hand, she wished to interrupt Chanakya and object to his damning rejection of the very existence of the Age of Heroes (surely it existed in Greece, and if the Indians had a similar story of such an age it must have existed in India too – why was the existence of something so sacred even up for debate?) – but on the other hand, despite having attended Taxila for less than a month, she too felt the jingoistic fever that had permeated the crowd since Chanakya’s arrival. Chanakya was a hero, his arrival a miracle to Taxila in its darkest of nights. To question him there was like including, in a prayer for rain, a criticism of Zeus’s treatment of Prometheus.
Even Pratikshatra appeared to have lost all confidence at this point, merely pressing on to introduce an honourable delay to his inevitable surrender.
“Surely it follows from reason,” he argued, “That instilling a standard protocol discourages a warrior from thinking for himself?”
“How, precisely, would you ensure that soldiers do think for themselves in the midst of battle? Perhaps by educating them earlier on the art of solving problems? And such an education would include practice problems, of course – cases one may encounter in battle, and instruction on the optimal strategy for such cases. If only we had a name for such an education.” Chanakya smiled. “The difference between an undisciplined army and a disciplined army is not that the former thinks for itself and the latter doesn’t, it’s that the former is forced to come up with solutions on the spot, as beasts must, rather than strategize in advance, as men do. You believe, wishfully, that each of your soldiers will think for themselves on the battlefield, even as you have no means to ensure it – just as you believe wishfully that each of your soldiers will slay ten of your enemy’s, but that this will not be true of your enemy’s valour.”
“Your characterization is an insult to the great heroes of history and legend, like Arjuna, Rama, and Vishnu,” said Pratikshatra.
Heracles, Odysseus, Achilles. Thera had to stop herself from vigorously nodding.
“And I may similarly say that you insult the great strategists of history,” replied Chanakya, “Like Vasishta, Krishna and Samkarshana – or, for reasons aforementioned, that the rejection of discipline in warfare is a rejection of the intellect, and therefore of Purusha  himself. But I am not interested in the game of compliments and insults, as that is a game of gossip, and therefore is a concern of women, not of scholars.”
Thera observed the shift in Pratikshatra’s tone and posture of argument. He had abandoned his earlier pompous rhetoric, choosing instead a defensive position against Chanakya, and once that too had failed, he had attacked Chanakya on the basis of the morality of his stance. Even as she likely agreed with him on matters of policy, she had to confess that this was telling of a fundamental insincerity.
In a final attempt, Pratikshatra adopted yet another appearance: one of wisdom and calm temparement.
“How blissful it is,” he said, “To be young and believe one knows everything. I must relish the nostalgia. You have studied under the Professors at Taxila, Chanakya, and have believed their words to be truth – but I could name you tens of more experienced scholars at Mushtika and elsewhere, who have discussed at length the value of heroism over discipline, and the disaster that discipline has spelled for the kshatriya race.”
Chanakya gave a wry smile in response, that alone sufficed to rescue the university from a historic humiliation, and to secure Taxila its twenty-first consecutive victory at the Yajnavalkya Debates.
“Tens of scholars?” he asked. “If you were true, you would have needed only one.”
A covetous man may be won by means of a gift, an obstinate man by folded hands in salutation, a fool by humouring him – but a learned man can only be won by the truth.
—Kautilya, according to the Chanakya Neeti.
It was only after returning to Taxila that Thera was able to catch up to Chanakya during dinner.
She introduced herself, then said: “I had some objections to what you said at the debate, but didn’t wish to betray you and the university by interrupting you mid-speech.”
“Oh?” Chanakya started. “You should have. If you were to defeat me now, my win would be tainted.”
“I was unaware,” she said shamefully. “I’m new to Taxila, and am not familiar with what’s considered polite.”
Chanakya, for all his apparent haughtiness from afar, said something fairly decent for once: “Do whatever is right, and no one will be offended in Taxila. Honesty is what we regard as polite; dishonesty is the gravest insult.”
“That’s good advice,” Thera confessed.
A short pause followed, during which Chanakya seemed rather annoyed. “Did you merely wish to mention that you have objections to what I said, or do you wish to debate me on them?”
Feeling embarrassed, she gathered her thoughts, and expressed them in so many words, focusing specifically on how upsetting his nay-saying rejection of the “Age of Heroes” was.
To which Chanakya said: “None of your objections have anything to do with the truth of my statements, and merely to do with how upsetting they are to you. To hold a value more sacred than the truth is to dishonour the goddess Sarasvati.” Furthermore, he explained, if wars were run on heroism alone, such heroism would be rather dull in itself, for the only job of a commander would be to maximize such spirits among his soldiers; it would not allow the plays and outplays – or the rock-paper-scissors – of strategic war. Indeed, he said, disciplined war merely made the strategist the hero, and such heroism was actually effective in large scale as the proponents of heroism claimed their own methods to be.
Thera then brought up yet another point of contention she had with what she had heard of Chanakya’s views, namely with his thesis that wealth and wealth alone is important. She explained that there were many things that couldn’t be bought with wealth, which he seemed to neglect.
This seemed to amuse Chanakya greatly, who asked: “I take it that your family is wealthy?”
Thera felt herself turning red. “Very,” she admitted.
“It is only those born to wealth who do not understand its value, only those born with great intelligence who cannot comprehend what cognitive capacities they possess that others do not, and it is beautiful women who downplay the importance of being well-formed or shower dishonest praise on the beauty of their uglier friends. There is a great deal that wealth can buy, and wealth is an encapsulation of the deeds of a man – for a man earns wealth by giving goods to his clients, and loses wealth by taking goods from sellers. There are indeed goods that money cannot buy, but an honest man must find it upsetting that such goods cannot be bought by money, and think of methods to make such goods purchasable to money, rather than celebrate such goods for their inability to be purchased by money.”
Thera raised more questions, about usury and other matters, and Chanakya must have grown tired of the smalltalk, because he then said: “If you truly believe the things you say, you wouldn’t be so easily convinced by my single-point arguments without any further questioning, because you would have thought through these beliefs more thoroughly. I suspect that your true intention here has nothing to do with the topics you profess to care about, but rather to talk to me, such as to extract some favour or to merely make my acquaintance.”
Thera felt humiliated. Chanakya had humoured her so far like a friend, but perhaps she had pushed it too far at the end and caused him to adopt a stricter position as a professor and all. She recalled his earlier words: Honesty is what we regard as polite; Dishonesty is the gravest insult, and decided to be forthright:
“Forgive me for my insincerity. I learned that you will soon become a Professor and have your own gurukula. I greatly respect your intellect, and wish to be your student.”
Chanakya declined emphatically. Thera’s heart sank.
“Although,” he said, “If you do just merely to make my acquaintance, I happen to need a wife for my graduation ceremony.”
Thera laughed, but then realized he may be serious, and that he might consider the child marriage of a barbarian girl – even one of such noble birth as herself – to be completely morally acceptable.
“If I may press further,” she asked, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice, “Why will you not accept me as a student?”
“I believe you do not quite understand the quality of students that I am taking for my gurukula,” said Chanakya. “You are a student of the Persian arts, a discipline imposed on us by the imperial government, that is taken by princes lacking in intelligence and masculinity, to which admission is gained by uttering a few insincere words of flattery to the Persians.”
Not wishing to be deterred so easily, Thera insisted: “But I am trying to switch to an Indian education in the sciences—” she leaned forward conspiratorially, “—and between you and me, I, and the Greeks in general, share the Indian opinion of the Persians. I do not have any words of flattery for them in my mind.”
“I’m sure that you, and the Greeks in general, also agree with the Indian opinion on the proper method to wash oneself after defecating—”
“—actually, we don’t agree on that—”
“—but it is through discussing disagreement, not agreement, that the progress of the world is achieved. Agreement is the consequence, not the cause, of a successful debate that dispels false beliefs on either or both sides.”
“I am willing to discuss our disagreements.” Feeling a little brave, she added: “But let me warn you that your perceptions of the Greeks may be quite incorrect. For instance, we have our own great cities, just like India and Persia do, and our own sciences, just like India does.”
Chanakya gave her a skeptical look, but didn’t seem offended that a foolish barbarian girl had dared to defy him.
“There is a tale that is often told of the Greeks,” he said, “As a warning to travellers visiting foreign countries and as a solemn reminder of the superiority of Vedic culture. Of a scholar by the name of Shukrata who was executed in Greece for his political views.”
“Socrates’s execution was a tragedy and an indictment of Athenian democracy,” Thera agreed. “But matters have changed now. Socrates’s student’s student, a philosopher by the name of Aristotle, is now employed as a teacher by the royal family that rules Greece.”
“If another philosopher were to speak negatively of Socrates, or of this student’s student, would he be executed?”
“Without doubt!” Thera replied haughtily, then realized the implication.
“Then things haven’t changed at all,” said Chanakya. “No more than the welfare of a slave who is passed from one master to another. The Greeks have no law against Brahmahatya , indeed their governments actively engage in that wicked practice – that reason, among others, is why we regard the Greeks as barbarians.”
“Indeed,” said Thera. “Just as the wicked practice of widow-burning is why we regard the Indians as barbarians.”
“ … ”
“ … ”
Thera was certain that she had crossed a line, and readied herself to prostrate herself and beg for forgiveness, when Chanakya cracked a small smile.
“Philosophers are more important than widows,” he said at last. “But I will accept you as my student.”
Learned men are envied by the foolish; rich men by the poor; chaste women by adulteresses; and beautiful ladies by ugly ones.
—Kautilya, according to the Chanakya Neeti.
 sriman – literally “wealthy”, used like “Sir” or “Mr” in the absence of standard noble honorifics
 Purusha – Literally “Man”, representing consciousness/free will in some sense. Prakriti – Literally “Nature”, depicted as feminine.
 Brahmahatya – killing of a Brahmin (scholaphilosopher)
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2021.11.30 17:23 TheCryptoHundredaire Why is BNB withdrawal suspended and when will it be reinstated?
2021.11.30 17:23 billsbitch Back in action on Coinbase Pro… Finally I have access to my coins
2021.11.30 17:23 1OtakuDude Georgia Aquarium
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2021.11.30 17:23 devilboicrybaby NBME image PDFs you guys keep on asking about.
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2021.11.30 17:23 chaindrivendonut A few bone handle oldies, they still hold an edge surprisingly well!
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2021.11.30 17:23 Embarrassed-Ad4497 Well that’s my „setup“
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2021.11.30 17:23 i_love_racism_ Solo vs suicide...
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2021.11.30 17:23 JacksmanYT Wrote an original clean riff and I want to know what you think of it.
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2021.11.30 17:23 TheDarkoEffect Nation DRS day December 1st so buy one share of your favorite company
So December 1 is national DRS day make our voices heard Purchase one share of your favorite company tomorrow before markets close. Why to show them we have rights as investors in the company’s we invest in and what are shares purchased in the light no Internalizes dark pools have if a real cost Bases getting a real dividends so support your favorite company tomorrow i Personally Going to do GameStop with all the carry lines I saw at stores it makes sense . Buy hold drs
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2021.11.30 17:23 chellemedus Anyone tried to new Vegatsu from Wagamama?
I absolutely hate it :( It used be a beautiful seitan, but now it's some mock chicken that's really mushy & genuinely flavourless. There's plenty of mock meats that I absolutely love, but I can't stand it when companies have a non-mock meat vegan option that is really great and then change it to a mock meat to be more trendy and to attract non-vegans. I'd take seitan over mock meat anyday! Sadly non-vegans a probably less likely too though.
If anyone else agrees, please sign this petition: https://www.change.org/p/wagamama-uk-change-the-wagamama-vegatsu-back-to-seitan I didn't make it myself but another girl did who feels the same way. I used to order the Vegatsu like 1-2 times a month as it was genuinely one of my favourite meals to have when dining out. So disappointed :(
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2021.11.30 17:23 Bladez1010 Diamonds aren't worth much anymore...
2021.11.30 17:23 funkywhitesista HELP converting SS#
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2021.11.30 17:23 bekind888 7 weeks vs 6 months 😭😭😭
2021.11.30 17:23 dsgdf Fell of the wagon in October due to stress and lack of creativity, but thankfully got back on track again in November. Had so mich fun recreating leelajournals‘ October theme!