On talk and action; on Thursday and Friday
One of the few interesting aspects of our psyche deserving further investigation is the connection between talk and action.
We can observe their close relation on many levels, starting with our everyday life. Say, what is a week’s worth of action worth if at the end of the week you can’t sit with your chums over a pint and talk about that action?
The same seems to happen on higher levels and larger scales. If you were asked about the most important moments of your life, you’d likely come up with some of the great deeds you’ve notched up. However, in some way your exploits get all their i’s dotted and all their t’s crossed only when you and your friends, accompanied by some good food and even better wine, recline comfortably and talk about some chosen - and perhaps censored - bits of glorious action.
(This – let’s borrow a term aptly describing our nature in another imprtant respect - dualism is also reflected in the greatest cultural creation of humankind: literature.
Isn't a lot of it so appealing because it's great talk about great action?)
All in all, whatever the nature of this relation consists in (the Philosopher or his greatest disciple, Doctor Universalis may have already established this), both seem crucial to us and are curiously enhanced, reinforced and somehow completed one by the other.
Just as are Thursday and Friday. When on Thursday, during the Last Symposium Jesus picked up where Socrates left off , the crucial point of the talking agenda was Friday's action, which made possible what Socrates speculated about and believed in
