How to divide eternity into fragments?
If to imagine that we sit on the seashore, are better, of course, Mediterranean, at once there is a thought of what we, in effect, still ancient Greeks.
Sitting ashore, it is possible not to hurry. The eternity for us, as well as for ancient Greeks, does not matter all entirely, our Ancient Greek mind does not accept such eternity, it quite could represent it, but operate with it it believes itself(himself) just not having the right.
We divide eternity into fragments. That fragment within which we with calm sit on the bank of the warm sea, being scratched and pokryakhtyvy, belongs everything - to us and, only to us because around nobody is not present any more, and we can sit or lie so much how many this fertile climate, stocks of products, fresh water and - the main condition - an interest stock to each other will allow us. It is also our fragment of eternity.
Therefore, eternity of course, time it consists of final fragments. Someone from us decides to state this assumption aloud, another with a cunning smile looks on speaking and reasonably notices that, maybe, it and so and only a question then in how to be with gods...
Long, however, on one place you will not stay, even on such nice as the virtual coast of our hypothetical sea. Annoying low requirements of an imperfect organism will drive us away. Where - nibud, sorry, in a bosom. Some, sorry, civilization … Eh, if, one my familiar ancient Greek used to say, it would be possible and a potiraniye of a stomach to get rid of hunger …
Clear business, we will manage to hold on some time on pastures - to drink nectar of morning dew, to hrumkat bugs yes of snails, to regale on edible backs. Whether it is necessary liberal much freely to think? It Popleskatsya in the sea, chewed dried caterpillars, sliznut dew from pebble and well let`s cover at full blast, say, Zeves - the Thunderer, remembering it all his vile tricks against the human race, accusing him of various sins, shaking angry by cams and splashing poor saliva. Nice pastime for a proud lyubomudr.
Trouble only that to Zeus, this old fart - the sinner to spit from a high Olympus that there somewhere far below the half-starved madman whom nobody hears, except his fellow - the same madman shouts.
Popularity of a divine providence will not suffer from single shouts of the lonely philosophers who do not have in property of any olive tree at all. The crowd zhertvoprinosyashchy regularly brattles and shuffles on a highway to the temple on the mountain. That is why neither the lightning will incinerate us, nor the thunder razrazit that we there spoke, in a proud pose of the speaker standing on the coast of the ancient sea.
At night, however, zyabkovato on sand - that to sleep. It is necessary, it is visible, to construct the dwelling. Also it would be not bad whether you know, to get a female … well, at least for a reproduction. Here recently, you remember, selyanochka local froliced. Awfully nice creations! One hitch, however, is. Having got the woman, the man becomes the priest of the personal small temple...