Quick Update :-)

I have been living in Madrid, Spain for quite a while now, and I have been delighted to learn Spanish :-) I continue teaching Farsi / Persian, but now I can teach my Spanish-speaking students using their language rather than English. It has been a wonderful journey, and I hope I can continue learning new things and meeting new people.

Who thought there are some EASY Farsi words out there?

My most recent video on EASY words in Persian/Farsi:

EASY Farsi Words

"Solipsist"

Tina's Professional Website for Teaching Farsi / Persian

If you are interested in learning Farsi / Persian, check out my free video lessons and learning material here: www.farsiwizard.org

"A World Between"

I just discovered this film, A World Between, which is a must-see for Iranian-Americans or those Americans interested in finding out more about Iran -- not through the typical American mass media, but through a genuine documentary. Here you can read about it and here you can watch samples. You can buy the DVD from the official website or from Amazon.com.

As Delayed as It Is...

HAPPY PERSIAN NEW YEAR!!!

*سال نو مبارك*

This is the first "Persian New Year" for me out of Iran. To get nostalgic is the least I can do! I am planning to travel back to Iran next year this time, inshallah. It's always the best time to take a trip to Tehran, to mingle with the shoppers and excited people and the smell of the new year and the laughter of kids.

PS. I discovered a tea here, Twinings "Jasmine Green Tea" ... it smells like my grandmother's hair, when she was alive and I was a 12-year-old kid, and the sparrows were chirping on the persimmon tree in the middle of the yard when spring was around the corner. I would pick up the lilacs and put them in granny's hair as she was singing to me, "be kas kasoonesh nemidam, be hame kasoonesh nemidam ... " [I will not let her get married just to anybody...] All grandmothers think that their granddaughters are waiting for a prince to come. Nobody thinks of me like that now, and nobody sings a song to me like that, to make me feel I am the only desirable woman in the world.

Well... My prince finally came anyway.

Derrida: Death, Ghosts, Kafka

DERRIDA (LE DEUIL)
Uploaded by MELMOTH

Chomsky and Foucault: American Vs. European

Foucault 13
Uploaded by Paroles_des_Jours

A Note on "Brokeback Mountain"

"A gay cowboy movie" has been the most unfair label ever attached to a movie as beautiful and deep as Brokeback Mountain . I finally watched this movie (now after Heath Ledger's sad death) and I have to say I was deeply impressed and pleased to see a different beautifully-made movie about love as it is, not as we might expect it to be. There is plenty of information about this movie, its screenplay and the Annie Proulx short story it is based on all over the internet, so I would not repeat them here.

Just as a short note, I think instead of that oversimplifying (and utterly stupid) tag which is attached to this beautiful movie, one can think of Brokeback Mountain as "a movie about love that happens between two souls that [concerning the social/cultural context, unfortunately] happen to be of the same sex -- in a conventionally heterosexual world". This might be a bit more complex than that tag I first quoted, but at least, I think it is more fair.

Indian movies you should (not) watch!

I will keep it short and sweet:

1. Watch Water
2. Do not watch Fanaa

The first gives you an insight into life from a different perspective, the second gives you headache and (ironic) laughter.

You will find out why the first one is a good movie after watching it, also you will find out why the second one is a waste of time to watch after NOT watching it and reading this brief description instead:

A blind girl goes to a city to find her Prince Charming (I know, but it's ok so far), then a womanizer falls in love with her and after singing couple of songs (as expected) suddenly changes into a loyal personality (reminds me of the Frog turning into Prince, but that was ok and this is not!) Nothing too bad so far, then the guy figures out an eye surgery would cure his beloved (now fiancee)'s blindness, so they go for it. RIGHT AFTER the girl opens her eyes to see this Prince Charming, she is told that he has been exploded in some (political) bombings. If this movie ended here, I still could say it was an average Indian melodrama, but the director feels too creative to stop, and actually adds a so-called twist to the story (this should be illegal): the guy has not died, he has changed into a political organization's secret agent. After a James-Bond-run-and-follow scene, the guy gets shot (and of course manages to survive) and ends up in the girl's house. The girl is a mother now and her son's name is exactly the same as the guy's name (romantic, ha?) After talking to the girl's father and a lot of unnecessary details, the guy finally asks for the girl's hand. They get married (again, I guess) and after doing some Prince-&-Cinderella poses for the camera start their (apparently) peaceful life, until, the father discovers the true identity of his son-in-law, his job as betraying their country, and the organization he is related to. The guy ends up killing the father, and in a supposedly-tragic-yet-really-comic scene the girl finds her father's corpse comfortably laying down in the river, with his face upward (of course for her daughter to identify) grinning under the thick layer of ice. This is the point John said he wouldn't be able to sit to watch the rest of the movie, but actually after couple of minutes, he said, "I'm just gonna see how it's gonna end, just so I can call Ozzie [his Indian friend] and say I'd be down there to kill him, just because he is Indian and this is an Indian movie!" Well, obviously he was joking (we love our Indian friends) but the movie ended up with everybody killing everybody else, so everybody died but the girl (and of course because she was a nice girl, you know?)

Well, I just felt responsible to let you know, the decision is yours. Watch Water's trailer here (don't forget to pause the background music on right margine):

Story of the Month: The Streets

The Streets

"Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die,
Life would be a broken-winged bird,
Which cannot fly."
Langston Hughes



Darkness has fallen. I'm alone on the street corner. Shabby houses are grinning at me like ghosts in a haunted world. Fog is lurking over their chimneys, rain is teeming down their pipes. My homeless heart leaps in my chest. Would they find me here, rigid and frozen, torn and raped, at this vulnerable corner of the street? I must keep my ass safe. I must live a long life to let my soul ripen, to get prepared. Then Death will come in and pick me up for the after life. There I shall rest in the arms of my heavenly Father. A young lover will wait for me there, to caress my hair, to kiss my feet, to pull the bloody nails out of my wrists. An apparition, dark-faced, tall and lame is approaching. Lord! Help me out! He just passes by, however, thank You! I can hear pulsing in my ears. What had I read before about it all? The lurking cat "on the window-panes"? The insidious "tedious argument"? I should get going, no matter where, anywhere but not here…on this exposed, helpless, stripped corner of the street.

Streets with lamp posts! Streets with the scent of sweet cookies, banana flavor, laughter of lovers, and warmth of a soft bed in a four-star hotel. I can always love the streets. Two little creatures, wrapped up in shawls, are inspecting the toys in the window: the little one is a girl of four or five, the other, as far as I can see, is a boy of eight or nine. I wish they were mine, to keep me laughing in this cold rain. There is nobody around, except for a swarm of onlookers outside the shop windows. Neither a caring mother nor a watching father is around. I can afford taking them with me. I ask them if they want to watch more toys in the next street. They will be back soon. The little girl's eyes glitter. The boy's protruding nose nods in approval. I take them to the next street.

I'm not afraid anymore. Nobody will hurt a mom with two little children at her skirt. My tattered clothes seem to amuse them! They don't "whine and bicker", though, neither do they "tug" my skirt. I have taken them by the hand, so tenderly, with the true affection of a genuine mother. No masks, no masquerades. So why can't they be mine? I will not be alone any longer. Loneliness. "Words I had no one left but God." Should I announce it to the world? They keep twittering melodically. The rain is flowing down that eternal river up there, baptizing all of us -- homeless tramps. The people inside will be dry for ever. Dry and full, like stale dead mice in the sewage.

I feel somebody is after us, in some gruesome haste, scuttling right behind us, with heavy steps of a strong man. I feel dizzy, my hands are cold, my head numb, my eyes getting fixated. The two little angels are squeezing my hands rather painfully. I don't know what they want. I just keep walking, maybe staggering down the street. But I can't walk anymore. I can't keep pace with those tiny cherubs. The footsteps behind are getting louder. I can never stop to see the face. I'm so afraid. So so afraid of getting hurt. I just keep squeezing the angels' hands in return. Maybe they don't know what I want. I never have known. the man is just a foot away from me now. There's an opening there, "a hell of a good universe next door!" Maybe I can slip inside, true! The door is wide open and the man has grabbed my waist yet I rush into the house. Two little angels are gone. I'm alone.

It is shining. The door behind is ajar. I guess the man has gone. Warmth has rushed into my mouth, a thousand flavors into my nose. Where am I? Whose house is it? The floor is soft as marble, yet not cold. There is a fire burning in the hearth, its flames radiating heat. It seemed like a church, then, with no benches, of course. The ceiling is high and painted in bright colors, the walls are adorned with flowers. Candles shed light, there is a smell of wine everywhere. Yet, this is not all. There is a staircase before my feet. It goes to somewhere unknown because I can't see what is beyond that curve up there. I guess there must be one hundred stairs to walk. I don't even know how to start. Maybe I can find the residents up there. Why was the door open, then? Who was that man? Was that a man, after all? I don't know.

The stairs go nowhere. They are just ascending for some fifty or sixty steps, then descending for another fifty steps, then ascending again, then descending again. I've been walking for hours; I've reached no destination. I guess this maze has been built for fun. Yes! Think, just for fun. It is funny, isn't it, by the way? But how shall I return?

There is a door just amid the stairs. There are always doors, always clues, always paths to trace down. I go through it. I feel as if I'm falling softly, very softly on some grass, wet and fragrant. There is a blinding light everywhere. I can't see what's happening. I can't see where my feet are. I can't hear anything, or maybe it has been too loud, too deafening for me to hear. I can just smell it, I feel dizzy. But, I don't know why I'm not afraid anymore.

I am in his arms. He is caressing my hair. His breath smells like fresh velvet violets in the spring. He says my hair is silky, one would love to feel it. He says I shouldn't be afraid of anything, nobody can ever hurt me from now on. I look at his face, I can hardly see his features, it will take time for me to get used to the light. But I can hear him. His voice sounds protective. I can see his Adam's apple trembling under that marble skin covered with innocent golden down. It fills me with wobbling pleasure to listen to his smooth masculine words. I can also smell his shoulders, they smell like my childhood pillow, reassuring and pacifying. I am enveloped by his arms, they look as if guarding me against all doors, all stairs, all streets. They smell like juicy apples, red and luscious, newly picked from an ancient tree. He feels for my neck, he leaves his nose on my breasts like a half-asleep baby who wants more milk; His lips taste wine sweet. I feel his hair, it was just as if I had dipped my fingers in some cool calm water. Beati, quorum tecta sunt peccata. He is happy, I can hear his tender laughter, I can touch his little humid mouth to keep my hands warm forever. I feel fertile as he kisses my cheeks, whispering in my ears: "I have picked you, little tramp."

"Blame it on Fidel" and "Beau Travail"

I watched two French movies in the past week, La Faute à Fidel! (2006) and Beau Travail (1999).

The first one was a detailed urban story about foreign politics through the eyes of a child, the second one was a modern Billy Budd story taking place in a desert. Perhaps there is no similarity between these two movies, unless that they are both directed by French female directors.

La Faute à Fidel! is a story probably more appealing to the female audience, since it is loaded with subtleties about the children and their relationship with their parents, how they perceive the world and how they react to the adults' ideals like political freedom and equality. The movie is great when it comes to portraying feelings of the main character, little miss de la Mesa, and it is even comic to a certain degree, that eventually makes us ask, as adults, that is it really worth it? Fighting for "adult" ideals instead of focusing on raising happy kids?

The movie is definitely worth being watched, but there is a risk of getting bored (specially for the average male audience), but I think it is mostly worth being watched due to the director's hilarious outlook on politics.

The second movie, Beau Travail is right the opposite: It is made by a female director but there is a good chance that it would appeal more to the male audience due to the subject matter (war, soldiers, morality, decisions), but interestingly enough, this was the first movie I watched with a "female gaze" (instead of the common "male gaze") in it. The scenes regarding the soldiers getting trained or doing physical exercises are filmed in a way that satiate the female audience' curiosity about men's physical features. Almost all the actors have great bodies and the angles adopted by the camera are exactly matched with what the average heterosexual female look probably yearns to catch in a man's body. With the desert as setting, with its warm shining sun, and the exquisite characterization, the whole experience of watching this movie can be an intense visual pleasure to certain groups of audience.

Claire Denis, the director of this movie, is also one of the professors teaching in my school, EGS. I originally wanted to get familiar with her work, that's why I watched this movie, but actually, after watching it, I felt good enough to want to watch other movies by her.

"Innocent Voices"

Sad, very sad, and poetic. Innocence woven with brutality of war. Sad, hugely upsetting. Poetic. Sad, ugly and beautiful, profound. Try to forget that it is based on a true story, or the sadness will not be bearable.

Do not watch it with someone you love, since it's going to be highly disturbing for both of you. Watch it when you're alone, in a philosophical mood, and want to think about the evil side of human-being, and of course, the innocent side.

That's all I can say about Voces Inocentes (2004).

"All about My Mother"

After a long delay, I am finally back to report on the movies I've been watching recently.

From my favorite Almodovar series, I watched Todo Sobre Mi Madre (1999) which, to me, was even more fascinating than all the other movies I have been watching by him. This movie is about mothers (as I had correctly predicted even before knowing about this movie, Almodovar is focused on the exploration of this theme: how mothers are related to their offsprings and vice versa). The two mothers here become connected to eachother through their love for a man both used to know: the father of their children. Here, in contrast to Hable con Ella, two women become true friends through their relationship with one man. Again, the apparently absent link is always there, and eventually reappears at the final sequences of the movie.

One of these two women has lost her son right on his birthday night, and the child of other woman loses her mother right after her birth. The story, typically Almodovarian, is about loss, and a hope to regain what is destined to be lost. The subplot of Huma and Nina as lovers, Huma almost always disappointed with Nina, is also about loss and a possibility to regain: Huma goes through all the fluctuations expected in her relationship with Nina to finally find relevant peace without her. The references to other theatrical works (A Street Car Named Desire) and Huma as acting perfectly on the stage also is in contrast to Huma's inability to carry on her real-life role as a woman. She has a messed up relationship with Nina and in ways is unable to free herself. This movie, can be also viewed as a movie about liberation and catharsis. Either way, it is a great movie to watch.

"Talk to Her"

I watched another Almodovar movie yesterday (now that I'm an Almodovar-addict I can't help it!), Hable con Ella (2002). Well... What can I say about this movie, unless that I fell in love with the concept of love depicted there: A desire for becoming one, eternally uniting with the beloved.

I'm sure a lot of nice reviews have been written about this movie, specially concerning the scene of classical/Freudian desire for returning to the womb, a primitive urge to get back to the origin of life, to a time before us getting born. That would fairly explain the notion of heterosexual love and the mechanism of falling in love, as classical psychology suggests it: a man would unconsciously feel attracted to a woman who is like his mother, and who is totally unlike his mother. Paradoxical, but true. The traditional saying that good sons make good husbands has a root in human psychology: we can love the opposite sex only when we have practiced it as a child in our intimate relationship with our opposite-sex parent. And, in Almodovar movies, mothers are every where, though like shadows, we just see them or hear them briefly, they always end up functioning beyond their traditional roles.

Also, I interpret Lydia's fear of snakes as a symbolic fear of sexuality (snake standing for phallus in both Freudian psychoanalysis and the psychosexual interpretations of the Book of Genesis), so in a sense, Lydia is Benigno's counterpoint: while Benigno is a woman-like man, Lydia is a man-like woman; Benigno can relate to his mother and ends up knowing women and falling in love with a woman. Lydia, on the other hand, tries to relate to her father, though not totally successfully, and ends up being a bullfighter. Since her relationship with her father does not turn out to be as perfect as Benigno's relationship with his mother, Lydia ends up not being able to love men in a consistent and stable way (look at her troubled relationship with the other guy).

The same way, Marco and Alicia are counterparts (and that's why there is a spark of hope at the final sequence for them to join each other): Marco can cry easily and Alicia is a dancer. Both are more into emotions than into words. In spite of the talkative Benigno, and Lydia who, at one particular scene, mentions to Marco that she needs to "talk" to him, Marco and Alicia do not talk a lot. They look at each other a lot and they communicate through their eyes, instead. All and all, I can say these four people have a lot to share.

Another perspective would be: Hable con Ella is about women, and the men who fall in love with them. It is also about men who connect to each other through women. Furthermore, it is about the mechanism of love and the contrast between the social and the personal.

I again enjoyed watching a good movie from Almodovar.

"The Flower of My Secret"

Excited by my new Netflix membership, I watched a Pedro Almodovar movie titled as La Flor de Mi Secreto (1995) yesterday, right on my laptop's monitor (you have an option to watch some of Netflix movies instantly on your own pc).

The first film I had watched by Almodovar was Volver (2006) which was a women's movie, in my opinion. A delicate plot, full of psychological hints and details, adorned by the beauty of the actress Penelope Cruz. A sweet story of life and death, decision and hesitation, mothers and daughters and daughters and mothers. At times Volver may bother you with details, but does never fail to impress you in its own way. It was a good movie, anyway.

La Flor de Mi Secreto is again about love and death, but death here, is metaphorical rather than physical (in the first sequence, when the actors are talking about a young guy's death and a they argue about donating his organs so that other people could live, physical death and the possibility of life after that foreshadows the theme of metaphorical death and the possibility of resurrection that happens to Leo).

It would be oversimplifying to say that Leo is a passionate, alcoholic, talented woman. She is all of those things plus something more. She is an idealist in its true sense, yearning for perfection in love, literature, humanity and life. A very fragile, embittered perfectionist, though: when she finds out the man she loves, her husband, has no feelings for her anymore, she dies emotionally (symbolically, she takes a lot of pills that put her into a state of unconsciousness -- a long sleep)When she wakes up and throws up, then baptizes herself in the bathtub, she is already on her way to start life again.

If we analyze Leo from a classical Freudian point of view, we can conclude that her dependence on alcohol, is a way to compensate for her dissatisfied oral passion (remember the scene she kneels down in front of Paco, touching him with her lips as she is wrapping him in a towel). She is told by her friend not to act like a "child" and talk to Paco like "adults", which brings an image of an infant Leo to me, in search of a soothing feeding breast (look how her relationship with her mother is portrayed, and how her mother takes care of her after she breaking up with Paco, i. e. Leo returns to a stage from which she has never outgrown).

In the final sequences of the movie Leo says she is determined not to drink alcohol anymore, and that she needs to learn to be alone. Angel (another alcohol-dependent personality who can be taken as Leo's animus, in Jungian terms) is there to share Leo's resurrection. They join together as "flesh" in the last sequence of the movie.

Another interesting point was that in this movie, it's been mentioned that some story that has been stolen from Leo has been set into a film script and a director is making a movie based on that. Now this story, as implied in this movie, turns out to be the plot of Volver which comes out almost a decade after this movie, so in a sense, Volver is based on a stolen plot: Almodovar has stolen the plot from one of his own characters, Leo! I liked that intertextul hint in the movie.

Watch the trailer here (pause the background music on the right margin before watching this):

"The Pillow Book"

As a Ph.D student at European Graduate School, I am supposed to read certain books and watch certain movies in order to be able to participate in the Media and Communications courses' requirements. My January course would be "Peter Greenaway Movies", so I started watching his movies to get prepared for the discussions.

I had watched The Belly of an Architect (1987) a few months ago, and I was amazed at Greenaway's dealing with psychology and the theme of betrayal. Last week, I got to watch The Pillow Book (1996) and this time I got too amazed to be amazed!

The Pillow Book is a poem-movie-narration about a Japanese girl who is passionately obsessed with calligraphy. She expands this obsession to her lovers: She wants them to write on her body and finally she herself ends up with an English guy who encourages her to write on his body. There is a third person involved, a publisher whom the girl tries to seduce into getting her "pillow book" published, but the publisher is actually the English guy's lover. The love triangle here is not the conventional one, rather it's a man in love with a man who loves a woman... the jealousy and rivalry bring about reactions that go far beyond imagination.

Writing a detailed synopsis can do no good but to ruin the movie. Just watch it if you haven't and you'll admire Greenaway's stylish outlook.(Don't forget to pause the background music on the right margin under "Nuclear Song of the Week" when watching the trailer.)

The Things We Like/Hate

The other day, as I was thinking of the things I liked, I started thinking of the things I hate, then I started thinking of what John likes and hates. The result was this:


The Top 15 Things I Like:

- Staying in bed till whenever I want
- Not having to wash my face in cold mornings
- Hot tea right before sleep
- The back of John's neck right after he has got a hair-cut
- The Indian food "aloo gobi" that my mother-in-law makes

- The pop song "Sexy Sexy Lover" by Modern Talking (my parents used to listen to Modern Talking when I was a kid and they were just back to Iran after graduation here... Thomas Anders' voice brings sweet childhood memories with it)

- The smart students in my on-line Farsi class (and those from my English class back in Iran)

- People who respect my territory and privacy

- Cuddling up with John in cold weather (or warm, lukewarm or hot weather!)

- Petting the two cats we have, Gypsy and Bastet, and listening to them purring

- When John opens a door for me, or gets me flowers

- Jungian psychoanalysis

- French fries and French language

- Garlic bread

- Relaxing when John is playing the guitar

The Top 15 Things I Hate:

- The smell of dead fish in the sink

- Noisy nagging impolite kids whose parents keep spoiling them

- When I'm in the mood for cuddling and John is not

- Having to clean the kitty litter every other day

- Having to walk on icy roads

- Having to smile in the face of a guest I don't like

- Having to be careful not to hurt the people I love by being me

- Cutting the frozen chicken for making food, and ending up with frozen fingertips

- Having to keep posting on my blog to make sure I'm getting enough traffic

- Crappy songs with the same rhythm being repeated for 3 hours straight

- Abusive people, also men who do not know how to behave around ladies

- Noisy hinges, specially when I try to be sneaky

- People who have no idea of respect and privacy

- The headmaster of my secondary school back in Iran

- The insects that bite me in summer

The Top 15 Things John Likes:

- The Persian dishes loobia-polo and shevid (baghali)-polo I make

- Bach

- Soft clothes

- Mangoes

- Beautiful smart ladies

- Flamenco dance and guitar

- Cats and dogs and frogs and lamas

- The massage I give him when he's back home after a long day of work

- Nice smells

- The way I take care of him

- Violins

- Indian food (specially chicken tikka mesala along with "naan" bread)

- People with sense of humor

- Excellence in everything

- My cheeks

The Top 15 Things John Hates:

- Having to wake up early in the morning

- Being harassed (by me) while playing a computer game

- Crappy music

- Snobs

- Making mistakes

- Plain food

- Loud parties that will take more than 3 hours

- Being touched by my freezing toes when we're in bed

- Getting too creative when it comes to food recipes

- The idea of the possibility of me getting hurt (either emotionally or physically)

- The idea of me not wanting to spend money for myself

- Having headaches or not feeling energetic enough

- Paperwork of any kind

- Blockheads, either pretty or ugly

- Arguments, no matter what

Well...that's it so far :)

From the "Summa Theologica": For Those Who Look for Reasons

"Saint Thomas Aquinas was a leading theologian and philosopher during the so-called golden age of scholasticism in the 13th century. The following passage from his Summa Theologica provides a good example of the scholastic method, which began with a question, then assembled arguments on the question that were eventually reconciled [...]

3 Does God Exist?
Obj. 1. It seems that there is no God. For if one of two opposing entities were to exist without limitation the other would be totally destroyed. But the word, God, means something that is infinitely good. Therefore if there were a God, evil would not exist. But we encounter evil in the world. Therefore there is no God.
Obj. 2. Furthermore what can be explained by a few causes should not be explained by many. But it seems that everything we see in the world can be explained by other causes without assuming that God exists, because natural things are explained by natural causes, while those that are done for a purpose are the products of human reason and will. Therefore there is no need to suppose that God exists.
On the contrary, God says in the Scripture, “I am who am.”

I answer that the existence of God can be proved in five ways:

The first and most obvious way is the argument from motion. It is certain and evident to our senses that things are in motion in this world. Everything that moves is moved by something else, for nothing can move unless it has the potentiality of acquiring the perfection of that towards which it moves. To move something is to act, since to move is to make actual what is potential. Now nothing can be changed from a state of potentiality to actuality except by something that itself is in a state of actuality. A fire that is actually hot makes wood that is potentially hot become actually hot, and so moves and changes it. Now it is impossible for the same thing to be both in actuality and in potentiality at the same time and in the same respect—only in different respects. What is actually hot cannot at the same time be potentially hot, although it is potentially cold. Therefore it is impossible for a thing to be both the mover and the thing moved in the same way, or for it to move itself. Therefore everything that moves must be moved by something else. If that by which it is moved also moves, it must itself be moved by something else and that by something else again. But things can not go on forever because then there would be no first mover, and consequently no subsequent mover since intermediate things move only from the motion they receive from the first mover—just as a staff moves only because it is moved by a hand. Therefore it is necessary to go back to some first mover who is not moved by anyone, and this everyone understands as God.

The second way is from the nature of an efficient cause. In the world of the senses we find that there is a sequence of efficient causes, but we never find something that causes itself, and it is impossible to do because it would precede itself—which is impossible. Now the series of finite causes cannot go on to infinity because in every series of causes the first cause is the cause of the intermediate cause and intermediate causes cause the last cause, whether the intermediate causes are many or only one. However if you take away a cause you also take away its effect. If there is no first cause among the efficient causes, there will be no last or intermediate cause. But if we proceed to infinity in the series of causes there will be no first cause and therefore no final or intermediate effects would exist—which is obviously not true. Thus it is necessary to posit some first efficient cause which all men call God.

The third way is based on what can exist (possibility) and what must exist (necessity). It is the following: We find things in nature that can exist or not exist, since things are found to come into existence (be generated) and to cease to exist (be corrupted) and therefore it is possible for them to exist or not exist. Now it is impossible for such things always to have existed, for if it is possible for something not to exist, at some time it did not exist. Therefore if it is possible for everything not to exist, at one time nothing was in existence. But if this is true then nothing would exist even now, since that which does not exist only begins to exist through something else that is in existence. But if nothing was in existence it was impossible for anything to begin to exist, and so nothing would exist now—which is obviously not true. Everything cannot be [merely] possible but there must be some necessary being in existence. Something is a necessary being either as a result of the action of another or not. However it is impossible to go on to infinity in [the series of] necessary beings that must exist because they are caused by another, as we have already proved above in the case of efficient causes. We must therefore posit a [necessary] being that must exist in itself and does not owe its existence to anything else, but is the reason that other things must be. This all men call God.

The fourth way is based on the gradations that exist in things. We find in the world that some things are more or less true, or good, or noble and so on. The description of “more” or “less” is given to things to the degree that they approach the superlative in various ways. For example a thing is said to be hotter as it approaches more closely what is hottest. Therefore there is something that is the most true, and best, and most noble, and consequently most fully in being, for the things that are the greatest in truth are the greatest in being, as is said in the Metaphysics. Now the superlative in any classification (genus) is the cause of all the things in that classification. Fire, for example, which is the hottest of all things is the cause of everything that is hot, as is said in the same book. Therefore there is something that is the cause of being and goodness and whatever perfection everything has, and this we call God.

The fifth way is based on the order (gobernatio) in the universe. We see that things that lack consciousness such as bodies in nature function purposively. This is evident from the fact that they always, or nearly always, function in the same way so as to achieve what is best. Therefore it is evident that they achieve their end, not by chance but by design. But things that do not possess consciousness tend towards an end only because they are directed by a being that possesses consciousness and intelligence, in the same way that an arrow must be aimed by an archer. Therefore there is an intelligent being who directs all things to their goal, and we say that this is God.

Reply to Obj. 1. Augustine says, “Since God is the supremely highest good he would not allow evil to exist in his creation unless he were so all powerful and good that he could even make good out of evil.” Thus it is part of the infinite goodness of God that he permits evils to exist so that he can bring good from them.
Reply to Obj. 2. Since nature acts for a given end at the direction of a higher agent, the things that take place in nature go back to God as their first cause. Similarly what is done for a purpose must go back to some higher cause which is not the reason and will of man because these are changeable and can cease to exist. Everything that is changeable and perishable must go back to an unchangeable and necessary first cause that is unchangeable and self-existent (per se necessarium)."

Source: St. Thomas Aquinas on Politics and Ethics, ed. Paul Sigmund. New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1988.
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Questioning the Answer

I just came across some videos on You Tube that include discussions on God: some say "God does not exist", and some say, "F*** you! Of course God exists!" Now, what I have to say about all this is simple and short:

I think the reason we have all these "arguments" about the [non]existence of God in the west is because western tradition is more inclined to objectivity and reasoning (in contrast to the eastern tradition of subjectivity and intuition). Westerners are very fond of arguing about the nature of things, and as established from the tradition of ancient Greek philosophers, a search for "truth" has been predominant in western philosophy. It is interesting to notice that in most eastern traditions, in contrast, this search is mostly focused on "love" rather than "truth". For most eastern philosophers, God is already beyond question, but the quality of methods through which one can attain His love is what they try to find an answer for.

The great persian poet and philosopher, Molavi, also known in the western world as Rumi, clarifies the futility of questioning God's [non]existence in one single line of poetry which can be roughly translated as:

"The effort for finding God is like the effort for finding the sun in a desert by the aid of a candle's light."

Also, he compares the reasoning methods human-beings may use in order to argue about the [non]existence of God, the nature of "truth" or the boundaries of universe, to the way a fish may understand the ocean: As long as the fish is living in the ocean, it cannot have a picture of the reality of the ocean, where it is located, how big it is, or where are its shores, therefore, the fish cannot question the [non]existence of the ocean, the quality of its existence, or its boundaries. (Perhaps we will understand God better after we get out of the limitations of the material world we are floating in -- after death.)

Something I finally like to say to the people who are trapped in the irrelevant question of God's [non]existence:

We cannot prove nor deny God's [non]existence before proving or denying our own [non]existence. I see us as the perception of God materialized. If God decides to stop perceiving us, we will not exist to question God's [non]existence. Hard to grasp, but will be easier to understand if we stop seeing a disparity between God and us. There is no disparity, there is just unity, and not even "unity" in the nice peaceful Christian sense, or Muslim sense, or Buddhist sense, or any other religious sense - "unity" in the utmost reasonable sense possible, unity NOT between God and us, but rather, between God and God, which is us.

One line from this Shiite prayer which I like: "God, do not forget us, not even for one moment, even if we forget You."