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     The mind is like a town whose thoroughfares have such
numerous intersections that it is possible to select
literally any location as a point of beginning, and from
there to find ones way to virtually any monument within the
precinct.  Thus it is possible to begin with myth as a
formative element (factor) of identity, and from there,
consider religion as a kind of myth, history as a kind of
religion, literature as a kind of history, and finally
language itself as the fundamental element of literature to
be the determinative element of mind.  Such a mental odyssey
will have the virtue of including in its survey, a very large
portion of intellectual experience, specifically that wide
field which is traditionally referred to as
Geisteswissenschaften, Moral Sciences or humanities.  If such
a descriptive analysis is pursued to a sufficient depth and
with sufficient thoroughness, the natural sciences, so
called, will be found subject to analogous if not the same
communicative constraints, and the analysis will have reached
the locus of the epistemology of science.

     Once myth, religion, history, literature and language
have been reviewed as components of individual identity, the
role of language, and of symbols of various kinds in
transmitting and preserving scientific theory and scientific
data becomes immediately accessible, and with it the
epistemology of knowledge; i.e., the nature of scientific
knowledge, especially as distinct from historical or
political knowledge.

     The experience of self, the revelation who we are, may
be construed as either static or dynamic.  Static experience
is the self-image, how we see ourselves.  Dynamic experience
is the contemporaneous account of what we do, the description
of our interaction with the world in which we live.  To keep
matters simple, it seems best to consider initially the
static experience: the self-image, how we see ourselves.

     To speak of the self is, of course, inherently
paradoxical, no less so than using Fichte's expression, das
Ich.  The attempt to use a linguistic formula to represent
the processes of thinking and feeling is bound to fail, if
only because these processes differ so widely from person to
person, from time to time and from place to place; and are as
a matter of fact quite inscrutable.  They become evident only
as they are expressed in language; but such expressions are
inherently distinct from, contradict and implicitly cancel
the experiences they purport to bring to light.

     Clearly, the threshhold question must be: What do we
mean by myth?  As soon as it is asked all sorts of devils,
demons, ghosts, angels and deities are turned loose.  The
conventional positivistic definition, to the effect that myth
is narrative outside the realm of reason and experience,
clearly will not do.  However, the converse, that everything
within the realm of reason and experience should be
interpreted as myth is too radical, too implausible, to serve
at a point of departure.  How this iconoclastic thesis might
appear subsequently in the context of critical and consistent
analysis remains to be seen.  But one might anticipate the
questions raised by the hypothesis that natural science has
many of the  characteristics of myth; to explain what this
entails.

     In any event, we begin in a positivistic mode to
catalogue the myths that we have inherited.

* In Homer, Ocean and Tethys are the parents of all the gods.
* In Hesiod, Chaos ("void", "gap") stands at the beginning,
followed by Gaia, Tartarus, Eros, Erebus, Pontus, Ourea, Chronos,
Nyx, and then Aether, respectively. (See Protogenoi)
* Orphic poetry made Nyx the first principle.
Nyx is also the first deity in Aristophanes's Birds,
producing Eros from an egg.
* Alcman made the water-nymph Thetis the first goddess,
producing poros "path", tekmor "marker" and skotos
"darkness" on the pathless, featureless void.

     That excerpt from Wikipedia constitutes only the
beginning, but is adequate to characterize the pagan myths
which we freely discredit as fiction because in their
remoteness from our culture they does not affect us. They
color not at all the images that we have of ourselves.

     At a pole opposite the conventional classical myths are
family stories, grandparents' dtories, the stories one tells
about ones own life, the excavation of ones own memories,

     More poignant are the religions that are practiced among
us, for these are largely indistinguishable from myths.  Most
individuals are brought up in one religion or another.
Indeed the absence of religion is an interesting hypothesis,
and an interesting challenge.  I rather suspect that where
conventional religion is absent, there will be a substitute:
conceivably some expression of culture, some array of art;
but if this too is lacking then the public ethos fills the
vacuum, and the organization, the society is idolized.  The
flag becomes a religious symbol.  The pledge of allegiance a
confession of faith.  Wo keine Goetter walten, walten
Gespenster.

     Although the historical accuracy of such religious
teachings is a matter of much uncertainty and controversy,
one cannot but admit that the historical truth of many of
their tenets is no greater than the historical truth of the
pagan myths that we have consigned to insignificance. The
difference between the pagan myths and conventionally
accepted religious myths is not in the reliability of their
histories, but in the reverence, veneration and faith with
which they are believed; and it is that faith, whatever that
faith may be, which gives to the story the power "to inform
our experience of Self, to reveal to us "to us who we are."

     I can't escape the inference that the psychological
effectiveness of the religious tenet reflects something other
than its historical truth.  Once this implication is
accepted, one has no alternative but to admit that the
factors that determine whether an account shall be considered
myth or history, whatever they may be, are not matters of
historical verity; indeed, they raise the question of what
historical verity might be.  One should also consider the
possibility that historical verity is greatly overvalued.

     In the end one is led to the question, which one cannot
avoid, about our relationship to the past; or articulated
differently, what time is, how we live in it and how we
survive it.

     If the mind is like a small town all of whose
thoroughfares intersect, then philosophy is the geography
that finds its way from one monument to another.  If myth
becomes the vehicle of personalization, then it must be the
language, its imagery and its music which are responsible for
the identity of the individual.

                      * * * * *
Copyright 2006, Ernst Jochen Meyer
