The Useless Tree

Mencian Child-Rearing

    Jeremiah, over at the new and improved Granite Studio, calls me out on the question of child-rearing in Mencius.  Glad to be of service...

    He is discussing the "household instructions" left by a scholar-official long about the seventh century or so.  Unsurprisingly, it recommends strict methods of child-rearing.  This passage jumped out at me:

…As soon as a baby can recognize facial expressions and understand approval and disapproval, training should be begun so that he will do what he is told to do and stop when so ordered. After a few years of this, punishment with the bamboo can be minimized, as parental strictness and dignity mingled with parental love will lead the boys and girls to a feeling of respect and caution and give rise to filial piety.

    I have to admit that, as a father of a teenager, the "punishment with bamboo" sounds pretty good.... but I digress.
 
     Jeremiah rightly notes the Xunzi-like pessimism behind such sentiments: people are generally bad and must be beat into goodness.  He arrays this against Mencian optimism, in his words:

One final point, given the Confucian (or at least Mencian) emphasis on the innate goodness of human nature, it is interesting that Mr. Yan sees children as needing to be shaped and molded, especially early on, reminiscent more of Xunzi (and the parable of the warped wood) rather than Mencius

 I would suggest a slight revision here.  Yes, Mencius was certainly more optimistic about human nature, but he, too, believed that, in order to draw out our innately good nature, children (and adults!) have to be "shaped and molded."   The key difference is how it is to be done.  My sense is that a Mencian approach would rely less on Legalistic "clear laws and harsh punishments" and more on positive inducements and exemplary modeling.  Take this passage, for example:

Human nature is inherently good, just like water flows inherently downhill.  There's no such thing as a person who isn't good, just as there's no water that doesn't flow downhill.

Think about water: if you slap it, you can make it jump over your head; and if you push and shove, you can make it stay on a mountain.  But what does this have to do with the nature of water? It's only responding to the forces around it.  It's like that for people too: you can make them evil, but that says nothing about human nature.  (11.2)

       Parents must learn how to channel their children's nature toward their better angels.  Interesting how he adduces the negative example: "you can make them evil."  That is, the natural tendency is toward goodness but, if you don't watch out, they can respond to negative stimuli and turn out bad. As to positive inducements v. negative punishments (carrots v. sticks), this passage comes to mind:

...But once people have plenty of food and warm clothes, they lead idle lives.  This is their Way.  Then, unless they're taught, they're hardly different from the birds and animals.  The sage-emperor worried about this.  He made Hsieh minister of education so the people would be taught about the bonds of human community: affection between father and son, Duty between sovereign and subject, responsibility between husband and wife, proper station between young and old, sincerity between friend and friend.

Yao said:

Encourage them and reward them.
Help them and perfect them.
Support them and give them wings,
and reveal them to themselves.
Then you will bring Integrity alive in them. (5.4)

      I believe this is the only time that the "five relationships" are mentioned explicitly in Mencius (they are not directly mentioned in The Analects, I believe).  And, notice, they have to be taught.  People must learn the proper conduct toward others; their natural tendency toward the good needs to be made socially concrete and actionable.  Observe also that there is no mention of whipping them with bamboo poles.  Rather, the emphasis is on encouragement and reward and support.

     We often think of "Chinese" or "Confucian" parenting strategies as relying on strict rules and harsh punishments, like those mentioned in the text Jeremiah discusses.  But these are not "Confucian," not in the Mencian (and I would say the Analectian - can I do that, make an adjective out of Analetcs...?)  expression of that tradition.   This is just another example of how Legalism infects the definition of Chinese-ness under the guise of Confucianism. 

Dust Off Your A. N. Whitehead

UPDATED: see below....

The new semester is upon us!  Posting has fallen off a bit because I am working on my syllabuses (syllabi?) for my classes (one on Chinese politics and a tutorial on ancient Chinese philosophy).  But I will adjust to the new work environment (I'm trying to work on the book, also...) and find a way to get daily posts up.

    In the meantime, here is something to consider, an article out of a Canadian newspaper that discusses how popular the process philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead has become in China these days.  I will get back to this and update because I know Hall and Ames mention Whitehead in Thinking Through Confucius - but my copy of that book did not make it with me as I moved offices this month!  I know where it is, I just have to lay hands on it.

     It is not at all clear to me that Whitehead will do all that Chinese intellectuals want him to do, but there are certain resonances with both Confucianism and Taoism (which I will try to elaborate later....)

UPDATE: OK, I've got my copy of Hall and Ames back and, yes, there are various references to Whitehead.  The one that struck me as most significant comes early on, when they are making some comparisons between Western and Chinese philosophy, and they mention Whitehead's process philosophy as a promising link between the two traditions.  They illustrate the possibilities further down the page (15):

Confucian philosophy, on the other hand, entails an ontology of events, not one of substances.  Understanding human events does not require recourse to "qualities," "attributes," or "characteristics."  Thus in place of a consideration of the essential nature of abstract moral virtues, the Confucian is more concerned with an explication of the activities of specific persons in particular contexts.  This does not involve a mere shift of perspective from the agent to his acts, for such would still require the use of the substance language we have deemed inappropriate.  Characterizing a person in terms of events precludes the consideration of either agency or act in isolation from the other.  The agent is as much a consequence of his act as its cause.

      There are many deep and serious comparisons of Whitehead and various strands of Chinese philosophy - my limited experience in the field has not yet brought me to that work.  But here is a bibliography that might be helpful for those interested in pursuing such a study.

      From my amateur's perch, however, I will simply point out that the ontology that Hall and Ames are putting forth is as much Taoist as it is Confucian; it is something the often-divergent perspectives share.  The sense of agent-in-process brings Chuang Tzu to mind - especially that passage (don't have the book here at home with me now) where he has Confucius talking to Yan Hui and Yan Hui is describing his meditation practice: how he has gotten to the point of not yet becoming himself... In other words, Chuang Tzu pushes the idea further. Not only is the agent both a consequence and a cause of his own actions, but the agent can transform his actions in such a way that he has not yet become the agent of the act....wow.   Process does not simply move forward temporally but can be thrown into reverse as well....  Love that Chuang Tzu.

The Tao of Obama

    I know: Taoism is not really a good analytic framework for US politics (largely because Taoism is, in itself, anti-analytic, but that is another story...).  Too much weirdness about keeping people uninformed and hiding the weapons and all that.

    But I sometimes slip into a Taoist mode when thinking about leadership and elections.  And when I do, I find myself gravitating toward Barak Obama as a presidential candidate.  This is not just a philosophical concern, either.  On February 2nd 5th I will vote in the Massachusetts primary.  And I will vote for Barak Obama.

   Truth in advertising: I am something of a modern, Northeastern, liberal yellow dog democrat.  I grew up with Richard Nixon and Watergate and nothing about the Republican party since then has impressed me or made me think that they should ever be given political power.  Reagan's Iran-Contra scandal was a disaster; and Bush is the worst president of the post-WWII era.  So, for me, it is simply a matter of which Democratic Party candidate to vote for.

     For a long time I was not focusing on the race, not until I watched Obama's victory speech after the Iowa caucuses.  I was absolutely captivated.  Not in a rational, policy-wonk sort of way, but in a rhetorical, symbolic sort of way.  The man can think and speak on his feet (and that is so refreshing after so many years of such a thoughtless and bumbling stooge in the Oval Office).  He understood the moment, the fact that more eyes were watching him than ever before, and he grabbed it.  He did not belabor this or that policy position, a five point plan for whatever, but he reached for the broader vision, he painted an alluring picture, something that obviously draws in many, many people, especially young people.

    I don't know if he will actually win the nomination.  If Hilary pulls it out I will, in yellow-dog fashion, vote for her for president (we really need a thorough house-cleaning to get rid of all Republican political appointees).  Laura pretty much nails my own discomfort with the Clintons.  And Obama himself did a nice job of turning back their negative campaigning when he intoned, at his South Carolina victory speech, that his movement is about the future not the past.  Let's look forward to a fresh start; we don't need the Clinton crew. 

    I think that's what a President needs to do: provide the big picture, inspire at a more abstract level, and leave the policy details to his administrative minions.  And that is what Obama is doing. 

    To bring it back to Taoism: I would not say that Obama is a Taoist leader.  That is not the point.  Rather, he is the one who comes closest to this sentiment:

A sage's mind is never his own:
he makes the hundred-fold people's mind his mind.

I treat the noble with nobility
and the ignoble too:
such is the nobility of Integrity.
I treat the sincere with sincerity
and the insincere too:
such is the sincerity of Integrity.

A sage dwells within all beneath heaven
at ease, mind mingled through it all.
The hundred-fold people devote their eyes and ears,
but a sage inhabits it all like a child.

Tao Te Ching, 49

     "Child" here does not mean immature and inexperienced (the usual critiques of Obama) but, rather, an openness to the interests of others and a capacity to act without guile or selfishness.  I am not so naive to think that Obama is perfect in this regard; but I think he comes closer to the ideal of the selfless leader who allows himself to be the expression of more general, popular interests than his own personal interests.  That is what is catching fire: his Integrity, his connection to the "hundred-fold people," his ability to meet the ignoble (think of Bill Clinton's racial politics) with nobility. 

       Obama in 08!

Walking the Dogs with Confucius and Chuang Tzu

     When I am around my dogs - two beagle-mutts, Rudy and Larry - I am more Confucian than Taoist.

   I was reminded of this again today when my wife and I took them both for a walk.   As we made our way toward the fields by the town dump, she reached down and unleashed Larry.

     "What are you doing?" I asked.

     "Oh, I always let them run here."

      I knew that.  She tells me how she lets them off their leashes and watches them run free.  But I cringed.  Dogs, to me, have to be kept under a modicum of control.  When off the lead, they should respond to commands, they should return when called.  Neither Rudy nor Larry does this.  They just run and run, hardly heading a whistle or call.

     Nonetheless, I gave in and let Rudy go, and he dashed after his dog-brother.

     We walked along, the dogs sensing our position and circling around us but very much absorbed in the various sights and smells they were encountering.  Up to the big, open fields we went.  Larry looked beautiful.  He is the younger and thinner and faster of the two, and he runs like the wind, effortlessly, with exhilarating speed.  My wife remarked upon his grace.  I worried that he would not come back to us when it was time to go.

     And that is what happened.  We retraced our path and returned to the place where we had unleashed them, near a busy main road back to our house.  Rudy, slower and fatter, ambled up beside me and I was easily able to reattach his lead.  Larry was quite a different story.  He raced by us, not heading our calls, and shot into the backyard of a nearby house.  We called, he ran.  This went on for about ten solid minutes and all the while I was thinking to myself what a mistake it had been to let him run free.  He was setting the agenda, not us - and that is not how a dog should be handled.

      I gave up and took Rudy home.  Our house was very close and I figured I could return with Rudy's leash and some dog biscuits to lure Larry back.  Maybe with the two of us working at it we could corral him.  By the time I found my way back, only about five minutes later, my wife was on her way home, Larry excitedly pulling at the now-attached leash.

      The whole affair got me to thinking.  In most ways, I am the more Taoist of the two of us.  My wife has a good dose of Catholic-Christian propriety that infuses her daily activities and interactions.  There are, for her, clear standards of right and wrong and we should consistently follow them.  All of which is rather Confucian, at least to my mind.  I, on the other hand, have somewhat blurrier expectations.  I am not as quick to correct our teenage daughter and I am generally slower to outrage or anger.  Chuang Tzu often drifts through my mind.  Except when it comes to walking the dogs.

     She clearly believes that Larry and Rudy should be able to fully express their inner integrity, their Te, which obviously includes running free.  And to see Larry zooming along is to see him in his most natural state, finding his place in Tao.  Leashes are artificial human creations designed to distort the inherent character of dogs.  We try to bend them to our will, shape them according to our preferences - all very un-Way-like, indeed.

      But just as her incipient Taoism does not extend much beyond the dog world (perhaps the cat would count, too), my inner Confucian, usually imperceptible, comes storming out when the canines are near.  I could offer a Taoist defense: it is "natural" for a person, perhaps especially a guy, to want to control a dog, to bring it under command; it is in keeping with my own integrity (Te).  But that doesn't really cut it.  The better Taoist stance is my wife's: let the dogs run free.  But I just can't do it.  I worry that they will bother someone or, worse, run out in front of a car and get killed.  I cannot face the possibilities that the loss of control implies.

     It is not just the dogs, of course.  I am not really as Taoist as I might like to think - though I would never call myself Confucian.  Rather, I am just a standard issue human being: jumbled and inconsistent, alternating between a Confucian desire for propriety and a Taoist embrace of freedom.

That's Why I Love Guangzhou

     This site has been blocked in China for the past couple of weeks, as have all Typepad blogs...again.  I noticed it on one of my site meters: all the China readers disappeared.  What a drag.  I have thought about changing servers so that I can avoid these sorts of blockages, but inertia is just too great.  And with a semester coming up quickly I just don't have the time to make the change.

     Imagine my surprise, then, when two days ago I noticed a lone China visitor.  I checked the IP address and found it was from Guangzhou.  Someone in Guangzhou found a way through the great fire wall (or around the net nanny...) and connected here.  He (or she) was back last night.  I'm not too surprised.  Guangzhou people are famous for thwarting the will of the northern capital.  They are often looked down upon by "civilized" northerners, but their spirit and energy have always impressed me.   And their politics is way more interesting as well.

     Go Guangzhou!

Synthetic Biology

    I have drifted away from Taoism in recent weeks.  A trip to an election in another country will do that to you... But I saw a story in today's NYT that had my Taoist antenna tingling: Scientists Take New Step Toward Man-Made Life.  Here are the first couple of grafs:

Taking a significant step toward the creation of man-made forms of life, researchers reported Thursday that they had manufactured the entire genome of a bacterium by painstakingly stitching together its chemical components.

While scientists had previously synthesized the complete DNA of viruses, this is the first time it has been done for bacteria, which are much more complex. The genome is more than 10 times as long as the longest piece of DNA ever previously synthesized.

The feat is a watershed for the emerging field called synthetic biology, which involves the design of organisms to perform particular tasks, such as making biofuels. Synthetic biologists envision being able one day to design an organism on a computer, press the “print” button to have the necessary DNA made, and then put that DNA into a cell to produce a custom-made creature.

 So, right away passage 29 of the Tao Te Ching rushes through my mind:

Longing to take hold of all beneath heaven and improve it...
I've seen such dreams invariably fail.
All beneath heaven is a sacred vessel,
something beyond all improvement.
Try to improve it and you ruin it.
Try to hold it and you lose it.

For things sometimes lead and sometimes follow,
sometimes sigh and sometimes storm,
sometimes strengthen and sometimes weaken,
sometimes kill and sometimes die.

And so the sage steers clear of extremes,
clear of extravagance,
clear of exaltation.

     I don't think that this necessitates an absolutist anti-science fundamentalism but, rather, simply a certain skepticism about the most grandiose claims of scientific progress and truth.  A Taoist would ask: why are we doing this?  And what unanticipated results might emerge (I know, we cannot know ahead of time what will be unanticipated...)?  And, indeed, further on in the story the possibility of ruin emerging from improvement is to be found:

But there are concerns that synthetic biology could be used to make pathogens, or that errors by well-intended scientists could produce organisms that run amok. The genome of the smallpox virus can in theory now be synthesized using the techniques reported on Thursday, since it is only about one-third the size of the genome manufactured by Dr. Venter’s group.

...

Some activist groups say Dr. Venter is going too far, too fast, this time, and that the entire field of synthetic biology needs outside regulation to prevent the introduction of dangerous organisms, created either by evil intent or by innocent error.

     How can we control the long-term effects of human invention?  We can't it would seem.  All of our prosperity and economic growth and modern conveniences are, quite literally, melting the planet beneath us.  I am not as pessimistic as John Gray, whose book Straw Dogs I have now read, but it is hard to see how the horrible possibilities of man-made pathogens can be completely avoided.

     Interestingly enough, I do not associate Taoism with pessimism. Chuang Tzu, especially, always seems to be happy and care-free.  The world may be going to hell in a hand basket all around him, but he laughs.  C'est la vie, or c'est la Tao, he might say.  Human arrogance might well brings its own extinction but, for now, enjoy the scenery and don't worry about what the synthetic biologists are cooking up.   Steer clear of their extravagance...

Preparing to Teach "Confucius"

   Alan, over at Frog in a Well, has a post up about teaching Confucius.  He raises an interesting question:

...It has long been accepted that at least some bits of Analects are much later than Confucius, and that some classical texts were created through accretion over a period of time (Guanzi, the outer chapters of Zhuangzi, etc.) Applying this model to the Analects is of course going to ruffle feathers, but there is nothing revolutionary about the idea itself. It does present problems, however, for those who want to teach the period. While we are in the process of deconstructing and reconstructing Confucius what do you do in class? There are two poles to this debate. One is the E. Bruce Brooks position, which seems to be that until you have the philology 100% down you don’t say anything.  Another pole is the Charles Hayford position. Long ago, after reading Luke Kwong’s Mosaic of the Hundred Days in a graduate seminar I asked him how the book would change his teaching of 1898. He said in effect that at least for this semester he would not change anything, since he was not sure what to make of things.

      Alan links to this post by Brooks to illustrate what is meant by "you don't say anything" - and that is you cannot really do history without an extensive philological introduction, describing the nature of the texts themselves.  History, in this sense, becomes philology.  But I agree with Alan, who says later on that he "leans toward the latte pole" - i.e. getting on with the telling and writing of history anyway (if you link through to Brooks you will see that "anyway" is, for him, a bad word.)

     We can do history, and philosophy and other things, without belaboring the philological points.  Yes, of course, the Analects are an accretion; they are not the work of Confucius, but of various people at various times that come after him.  That point can be very important for certain intellectual pursuits, but for others it is not all that earth shattering.

    In my case, I teach a tutorial using the classic texts in translation (Analects, Mencius, Tao Te Ching, Chuang Tzu, Han Fei Tzu).  That's pretty much all we do: read these texts.  But my purpose is different than Alan's, and certainly different than Brooks'.  I am not, as is Alan, teaching "the period."  It is not a history class.  Of course, we do read a bit of history to understand certain references in the texts and to gain a minimal appreciation of their original context.  But the main goal is to try to understand what these texts can mean now, in our own time.

     I would imagine that Brooks would find this kind of project fundamentally illegitimate, since it quite consciously takes the texts out of their original context.  I don't worry about it, however.  Seems to me that these texts do exist in our own time, they can mean something in a contemporary context, and working to understand what that contemporary meaning might be is as good and legitimate as any other intellectual pursuit. As long as students know that coming in - and that is what I tell them - then they can join or not at their choice.

      The question of "what do you do in class," then, is a bit different for me.  I have, in the past, pointed out the composite nature of the original text.  I could go further, however.  I think what I might do this time around (thanks, Alan, for raising this question and making me think about it) is to suggest that the notion of "Confucius" has always been a composite.  It has never had a singular and unchanging quality.  We invoke the name "Confucius" as if it were an individual - and, yes, there was a historical individual of that name - but the connotation always exceeds that individual.  "Confucius," like "Confucianism," has come to summarize a centuries-long intellectual debate among hundreds and hundreds of learned readers of a variety of texts in various times and places.  Zhu Xi referred to "Confucius" and interpreted him and presented an understanding of "his" texts just as Roger Ames has done.  The two are obviously quite different.  They have played different historical roles.  They each extend and revise the meaning of "Confucius" that may have existed before them.  Is one closer to the "real" Confucius?  No, not if we give up on the idea of a "real" Confucius, as we must since he is beyond our capacity to apprehend (prisoner as he has always been to the additions and revisions and interpretations of others, even in the foundational text of The Analects).

     Let me be even more pointed (that is what blogging is about, after all).  I really don't care about the "real" Confucius.  I don't care if he personally wrote any particular passage in the Analects or anything else.  What I care about is the meaning we have attached to the name "Confucius" at various historical moments.  The "Confucius" of the Han is not the "Confucius" of the late Qing and is not the "Confucius" of Yu Dan.  None is somehow transcendentally authentic; each is a reflection of its own time and purposes.  That is how ideas and texts work.

UPDATE: Chris takes the conversation to another philosophical level....

Sun Tzu on how the Giants can win the Super Bowl

     I am back in my office at Williams in rural northwestern Massachusetts.  A far cry from the intense urban-ness of Taibei and Hong Kong.  But the great advantage of this place, for me, is that it is home.

     The interminable lay over in LA was made more pleasant by the NY Giants unexpected victory over Green Bay in the NFC conference championship.  I was perched at the bar in a Chili's restaurant, with more Packers fans in attendance than Giants supporters.  I defended New York's honor through the afternoon and was as surprised as everyone else by the outcome.

      Of course, now the problem is the apparently invincible New England Patriots.  How can the Giants possibly overcome them?  The answer can be found in that greatest of all strategists: Sun Tzu.  I will not be as brash as last year, when I predicted a Bears victory, which did not happen.  But with insights from Sun Tzu we can imagine how the Giants might be able to win.

     First, let's recognize the strategic situation:

One who has few must prepare against the enemy; one who has many makes the enemy prepare against him (6.16)

     The Giants are clearly at the disadvantage.  As the commentators on TV like to say: the Patriots have many weapons.  Their quarterback in poised and efficient; their receivers precise and fast; their running game effective.  They have much more offensive power than the questionable Giants.  And their defense has played well also.  There are few weaknesses for the Patriots, reflected in their undefeated season thus far.  So, they have "many," the Giants "few," and New York must prepare against them - i.e. we must carefully assess the full range of their power and work hard to find a winning approach.

      There are two points to keep in mind. First:

Invincibility lies in the defense; the possibility of of victory in the attack.

One defends when his strength is inadequate; he attacks when it is abundant. (4.5,6)

     The Giants defense is obviously stronger than its offense.  They stopped the Green Bay running game on Sunday, and the Packers could not do well with screen passes.  That left short underneath pass routes, which Favre took advantage of, and the occasional longer pass.   To win against New England, the Giants must maintain their strong defense.  They cannot let themselves be distracted from their primary strengths against the run and rushing the passer.  Much will rely on the defensive line and linebackers; they are absolutely the key for the Giants.  If they do well, if they can stifle Maroney and harass Brady, they could create an opportunity for the Giants offense to control the ball and grind out a win.   The Giants must make this a defensive struggle.

      After all, the Patriots did not look good in the first half on Sunday.  Brady made mistakes.  They are not invincible; but the Giants must make themselves invincible through their defense.

      The second point is this:

To be certain to take what you attack is to attack a place the enemy does not protect.  To be certain to hold what you defend is to defend a place the enemy does not attack. (6.7)

      I think this is especially true for the weak Giants offense, which must find ways of attacking what the Patriots do not protect.  What might that entail?  First, it will require Manning to avoid mistakes, as he has been able to do in the past couple of games.  He cannot force throws into coverage - which would be attacking precisely what the enemy is protecting.  He has to be able to look off the first or even second choices for passes and find  the safety valve.  With  an aggressive Patriots defensive line and close coverage in the secondary, screen passes and dump offs to the running backs may work well.  I just hope Jacobs can hold on to the ball when it is thrown to him.

      This will also mean that Burris must occasionally be used as a decoy to draw close coverage or double coverage.  He was brilliant on Sunday and in the Super Bowl he will have to make some big catches.  But the Patriots will be keying on him.  He will be their top priority on pass coverage.  And the Giants will have to exploit their attention there and find other receiver options.  It is critical, then, that Toomer not drop catchable balls; and the rookie Steve Smith will have to step it up.

     Finally, to attack what the Patriots do not protect will require some trick plays.  Not a lot.  But some reverses or misdirection plays will help spring the Giants offense into the open.  After all, Sun Tzu tells us that war, and football, is all about deception.

      It will certainly be difficult, but not impossible.  The Giants remind me of the 2001 Baltimore Ravens, who won the Super Bowl against the Giants that year.  They won on defense and turn overs with a weak quarterback who did not make any big mistakes.  That's what the Giants need this year.

Lots of Travel, Little Blogging

    The bad news: a long, long flight from Hong Kong to Taibei to LA to Chicago to Albany.
    The good news: business class on China Air from Taibei to LA.
    The bad news: a ten hour(!) lay over in LA.
    The good news: home in time to pick my daughter up from school.
    The bad news: no chance to blog until Monday night at earliest (maybe that is good news for some!).
     The good news (I try to be optimistic):  the weather is clear here in HK this morning and I have learned a lot about this place from various and sundry people these past four days.  Thanks everyone for a great visit!

       The potentially good news: A Giants victory today/tomorrow?

        In any event, here is what I will be reading on the planes:

        Marco Polo

        The Economist

        The Far Eastern Economic Review

        Confucius, Analects (Watson translation)

       See you on the other side.

Hong Kong Pictures

     I have been rushing around this marvelous city for the past two days.  I have always liked it here, ever since I first visited in 1983.  There something about the energy and design of the place that draws me in.  No big deep thoughts here - I am too tired.  Blogging on ancient Chinese thought will continue when I get home next week.  For now just some pictures.  Oh, and a thank you to Roland for lunch and conversation today: