#but in truth i'm just so bad at explaining i wouldn't do my original concepts justice

[goldenshrikecomic]

Hello! GS is one of my favorite comics right now and a huge inspiration in my own journey of working on a comic. One of the things I find the most impressive is your paneling. Visually each of them are laid out in a way that gives this great flow, it feels really natural to imagine the pages in motion.

Would it be okay to ask what your thought process is on panelling, or just general advice/thoughts on setting up/laying out pages? I hope this makes sense

When I think about page layout, my number one question is what kind of panel I want the page to end with. It shouldn't cut the conversation or motion awkwardly, and ideally it should be something that acts like a hook that makes you want to click to the next page, like here:

It's all about getting from part A to part B. Part A, you're here. Where's the part B? The cutting point, the point where the page ends, where the chapter ends, and ultimately where the story ends.

What kind of story you want to make?

What kind of plot points you want to cover in your chapter?

How much content there is in this one page, does it forward the plot, relationships, or just show a side of someone you want seen?

You can go even smaller. Is this panel important? Does it need a full background? Could these three small panels of characters talking be one big panel? It'll save you time and look nicer.

You'll get it with practice! The old first pages of my comic wasted a lot of space, sometimes they still do. Don't stuff it full but don't get too loose! Don't be afraid of small panels, reserve big ones for big moments, like mother saying goodbye to her kid, or a yellow deer meeting a god. I see many starting comicers use very few panels per page, but this is a LOT of unnecessary work that builds up versus you including more panels per page. It's all about the bubbles. Bubbles lead everything. It's the silent pages that are the hardest.

Again, this is just how I do it. I bet there's tons of different approaches that work for the right people. Hope you find what works the best for you, best of luck with your project!

[goosebumpsbookclub]

Stay Out of the Basement

Yes, I'm still doing this.

We descend now into the second chronological entry in the Goosebumps series. I do want to stress that this is only the second book, and R.L. has gone with "plant monsters," something I'd expect from maybe book #50, after he'd run out of all the classic monsters. Points for originality.

The protagonist of this one, Margaret Brewer, is just Amanda Benson again, complete with annoying little brother. (Alas, this little brother, Casey, lacks the inhuman physical strength of his predecessor.) She also has a mom who's away on a trip and a dad who sucks so, so bad.

Basically, this book is told from the point of view of the child of a doomed Jeff VanderMeer character. Margaret's dad is doing science of some sort in the basement after losing his Real Science Job. He's weird and distant and doesn't let his kids enter his lab, so obviously they do enter his lab, where they find messed up plants that breathe. Their dad subsequently gets a lock for the basement door (which, like, why on earth didn't you do that in the first place, my guy) and starts wearing a baseball cap all the time, which is never a good sign. Also he eats dirt. Just out of the bag, like an animal.

What's under the hat? I'm happy to tell you! It's leaves and stuff. Margaret finds this out almost immediately because her dad is supremely bad at hiding his secrets. He convinces her and Casey that growing an entire tree out of the top of your head is actually totally fine and not a cause for concern at all, which is a stupendous feat of gaslighting. Then he serves them green potatoes. Which is also fine. (They don't eat the green potatoes.) His old Real Science Boss shows up, he takes him down into the basement, and the man is never seen again. Which is also fine! This is all great.

When Margaret and Casey inevitably return to the basement to catch another glimpse of those sweet, sweet evil plants, they find the boss's jacket Their dad explains that it was hot down there, so his boss took off his jacket and then forgot to take it with him when he left. This definitely sounds like they're banging. Mr. Brewer basically just told his kids he's gay in order to divert attention away from his weird plants.

A third and final trip to the basement (no lock can stop these children!) reveals the rest of the boss's clothes, confirming that he is their father's lover. More importantly, though, their dad's bound and gagged in the (literal) closet, when he's supposed to be picking their mom up from the airport. Uh oh! Two dads now! One was bad enough. Other Dad shows up and tries to convince the kids he's Real Dad, but Margaret figures out Closet Dad is Real Dad because he shows her love. Real Dad then cuts Other Dad in half with an ax, which, Jesus Christ. It turns out Other Dad was a plant clone that got too strong and stepped into Real Dad's life like a gay green Stepford Wife.

But it wouldn't be Goosebumps without that sweet cliffhanger. Margaret goes out to hang out in the yard, where a plant pokes her foot and tells her it, in fact, is her Real Dad. Fade to black. Fin.

I actually love this twist because it really reinforces the main theme of this book, which is that dads are terrible. Instead of processing his socioeconomic anxiety, this guy alienates himself from his kids and makes horrible horrible plant people, literally creating a surrogate dad to manage childcare. On accident, sure, but surely there's something going on there subconsciously. And at the end of the day Margaret remains unsure which dad is real, because they're functionally the same. Even (supposedly) Real Dad's declaration of love could be a front--Margaret can’t remain convinced of its truth for very long. She gets only a brief respite before she's caught up in her dad's bullcrap again, trying to decipher what the hell is going on with him, trying to keep up with him in order to survive. She's an unwilling player in the Game of Thorns and this guy is Tywin Lannister. Get it? Thorns? Please high-five me.

Ratings:

Cover: The cover I got from the library was the 2003 update, still by Tim Jacobus, and a little busy for my taste, but that plant guy is pretty spooky with his beakers and such. 2.5/5 The original shows a scary plant hand reaching out of the basement, much simpler in concept but detailed and gross and slimy as all Jacobus covers should be. I give it a 4/5.

Scare factor: I found this one less freaky than the first, but the detail about the plants breathing did give me a chill and genuinely reminded me of Annihilation. Also, a guy gets chopped in half with an ax. 3/5.

Dads: 0/5. Be better, dads.

[zoffra]

What's the Spider?

Before tackling main subject, I'd like to speak briefly about members psychology.

1 - Psychopathy and sociopathy definition

A psychopath acts on his own, he's aware of his actions. He knows how to recognize a good thing from a bad thing, but simply feels no discomfort in doing them. Vicente Garrido Genoves is a criminologist-psychologist who characterizes psychopaths according to several points ('El psicopata', 2000):

- They're impulsive, eloquent and have a natural surface charm.

- They lack self-control, need constant excitement in their lives and only respond to powerful stimuli.

- They totally lack empathy, not feeling guilt or remorse.

- They tend to lie and manipulate people.

- They're self-centered with a high regard for their own worth.

Let us now take stock of what sociopathy is. Unlike the psychopath, the sociopath can develop an ability to be empathetic, to feel guilt or loyalty. However, his concept of good and evil is based on standards and expectations of the group to which he belongs. The sociopath will take actions considered morally bad - even criminal - but necessary for him, because of his social origin / environment where he settles.

I think you understand, Hisoka is a psychopath, while troupe's member are sociopaths. If I wanted to define these two concepts it was to lay basis of their personality in order to better understand who they're. My development will not include Hisoka because I've already mentioned his personality in my previous analyzes.

2 - Absence of individual's feeling

We can see the troupe as a micro-society. There's a leader who directs it, members who ensure its proper functioning and rules which must be respected. Individual concept is almost nonexistent and all their actions are aimed at making spider thrive.

Senritsu says that Chrollo's melody sounds like someone who has already accepted death and walks by his side, but so do all of the members. Individually they don't care about living or dying, and I insist on 'individually' because it's an important concept to understand.

They're not just members having a role in troupe, they're all form one and only entity: the spider. The spider is symbol of what they're as persons, they fight to preserve this, at the expense of their own existence. They totally dehumanize themselves in favor of something bigger, in order to fill permanent void they feel.

Brigade hails from Meteor, an ostile place presented as one of the poorest places on earth. It's a gerontocracy, a society where power in place's managed by the elders - because they're theoretically wisest -. Decisions seem to be taken in a chaotic way and there seems to be a miss rules and hierarchy.

We learn from Leorio this place's known to be 'city of those don't exist for society.' Imagine being born in a place without identity. Some members don't even know their birth date or their blood type. This is essential informations in our modern societies, ask yourself how often you're asked to enter your birth date for this or that thing, if you could be treated without knowing your blood type, how would you grow if you didn't know your last name or your parents.

All of these data are vital for healthy personal development, and this lack of informations contributes to grown their sense of identity fragility. Words choice is important, and it's not by chance that the troupe's nicknamed : phantom troupe.

3 - The rules

And in this chaotic environment, Chrollo establish rules in order trying to structure this ambient disorder. Rules are sacred, immutable and are - in theory - respected by all members. They govern the brigade functioning, they're even superior to Chrollo's leader status.

'I'm the head and you the legs. Legs do what head says.' Chrollo establishes a power's hierarchy and explains organization's operating principle.

'What matters is not that I live, but that the spider lives. Never forget it.' A little earlier I talked about lack of members identity, but it's also characterized by lack of goals in life. Meteor is made up of outcasts, mere fact of being born in this place blocks their existence in a vicious circle, where all happy future prospect is erased. Here, Chrollo determines group's duty and ideology. It's maxim they must respect, which determines their course of action, and which finally gives meaning to their lives.

Two other rules cement good groupe understanding: Serious disputes are prohibited. To settle a conflict, they draw lots by tossing a coin that determines path to follow. Verdict is irrevocable, it's a justice system simplified to the extreme that they also use to guide their own choice or regulate discussions. Returned coin choice's symptomatic of their lack of identity, letting fate decide in situations where it would be better to reflect in order to choose best solution is irrational.

4 - Legs become individuals again when head isn't here

Chrollo is the undisputed leader and spiders listen to his orders like obedient legs, but when he's no longer there to lead, things get complicated. We see it when he's captured by Kurapika and spiders are left to their own devices.

They've disparate personalities who maked them split into two groups.

Shalnark has a cold and Cartesian way of thinking, he thinks of spider above all, even before Chrollo. Phinks and Feitan reason the same way, except they're less intelligent and make more irrational decisions.

Machi, Pakunoda and Nobunaga are more empathetic. This is reflected in their decision to save their leader, even if it harms spider.

Senritsu told Kurapika that "If the troupe's as insensitive as they suggest, such an exchange couldn't work." It's the truth. Chrollo has devised rules which he respects with an iron will to allow spider to survive as long as possible. When he taunt Kurapika in the car, saying he's worthless as a hostage, he hadn't doubt for a second that members wouldn't respect his principles.

When there's no more head to make decisions, legs rebecome full-fledged individuals with human feelings.

[dredreadsdrawing]

Oc-tober Day 7: Fear

Hoohoo i suck at shading :'0 The second pic was the firdt concept art I drew of these gals. Then came the pencil sketches and lastly the one on top.

I've already got a Quickie summary of this story in my writing blog explaining who these characters are and what's going on, link HERE. So for this piece, I'll write the scene I drew lol. In it, only Kylee and the Wrath kid are left, but before they get a showdown, God gives them one last mercy. A night without worries. Anything they want, they will grant. Btw, I have decided on official names for these gals. Kylee the fangirl and Paloma the patient ghost.

~~~~

This was it.

Tomorrow, everything was bound to come to an end.

It felt unreal to Kylee. How far she's come, her numerous near death experiences, how nice their room was. God really knew how to treat em when they weren't being careless.

Still, God's assurance of a last peaceful night was a load off their shoulders. A blessing, you might even say.

Chevre left the scene immediately, deciding to spend their last day as a ghost doing their own kooky things. They felt robbed for not dying sooner to do it.

That left Kylee and Paloma, the original duo, to spend the night alone. Just like the good ol days.

They tried the hot tub, snacked on expensive sweets, watched Kylee's favorite episodes of her favorite shows, and had a great time.

Just like normal girls their age would spend a sleepover.

When it got super late, the magic of the tranquility was wearing off. Reality settled back in. Tomorrow was the end. No more fighting, no more floating. The ghosts would be reborn and someone new would be God.

A child. Both contestants left were underage.

And they had to fight eachother to the death. Kylee and Paloma agreed that if she won, she would pick older candidates next time. No kid should go through what she's gone.

Circling back to the competition, they talked about their opponent and his many helpers. They'd seen how ruthless he was. Opportunistic and never one to hesitate. He was a tough rival for sure.

Kylee got quiet for a bit, and Paloma squeezed her shoulder.

"Come on, cookie. Let's sleep early."

They snuggled onto the bed. Two had been accommodated for them, but they were used to sleeping in the same one. It was their piece of comfort.

After settling down, Kylee worded her next question carefully. She had already asked it before, when she first saw Paloma as a ghost, but it didn't hurt to have the answer retold.

What was it like to die?

Paloma stiffened. Her eyes softened. Her voice cracked a bitter smile.

"It hurts. Especially when you start struggling back. But once it's done, all you get is wave after wave of relief. Like when you ace a test you didn't study for." She laughed. It ended breathily.

Kylee didn't like her expression. She had seen it come up a lot in the past few days. And she knew exactly what it meant. She brought Paloma closer and held her face. Looking into her eyes, she asked as quietly as she could.

"... have you regretted it?"

Paloma shivered. Her eyes burst. She whimpered, and Kylee immediately brought her to her chest, letting her cry. Not a single tear stained her shirt.

"I was... So sure I did the right thing..."

"You did..."

Kylee remembered those first days. How surprisingly proud she seemed to have taken her own life. To be done with life and humanity. But as time wore on, her sentiments changed.

"I couldn't help it... I wondered... What would have happened if..."

She paused as sge choked on her words. Kylee gave her a pat. "It's ok..."

"No, it's not!" Paloma got up, her face a darker shade. "We could have been a team. We could have stuck together for as long as we could. Or- I could have been in your shoes right now. I could have been the one that made it to the end. Instead of putting all this pressure.... For you to do the right things."

Paloma was calming down, she rubbed her eyes. Kylee helped brush a tear from her cheek.

"I'm sorry I died so fast."

The words stung. Kylee wasn't taking this.

"Don't say that! If one of us is the bad one... It's... Me."

Kylee rubbed her arm. Paloma shook her head. "Not this again, Kylee-"

"I was a jerk. I admit it. I knew what was going on with you but I never stepped in. Really, Palo," Kylee started hyperventilating. Paloma rushed to embrace her. Their roles had effectively switched.

"If I had reached out to you sooner... If I was more involved... Someone better..." Kylee took Paloma's hand. Together, they squeezed them.

"If I was someone like you..."

"Stop it..."

So many what ifs lingered in their minds. So many paths they could have taken. Together.

But here they were, stuck. One as a ghost and the other possibly becoming a deity. About to fight for the right to be.

"Atleast... I got to show you my favorite stores. .." Paloma laughed at the memory of Kylee dragging her around unwillingly.

"We didn't even buy anything. You just had us people watch the entire day."

"But you had a good time anyways, didn't you?" The smiles are back. Paloma tilts her head and rests it on Kylee's shoulder.

"I did..."

While her death was premature, she had to count the small blessing that was her ability to stick to Kylee as a ghost. She got to see more than the bubble she knew. She got to make friends. And...

Kylee couldn't help the kiss she gave Paloma's forehead. Paloma's face burst and she laughed.

She got to feel so loved.

"Okay, Ms. God, settle back down. Tomorrow is... A big day."

Kylee snickered as she laid back down, Paloma following. After another small silence, Kylee's big mouth continued asking.

"If I win... What kind of life do you want?"

They hadn't touched the topic of Paloma's reincarnation.

The reality of her living without Kylee was too much.

Still, now that it was a serious possibility... This was a talk they needed to have. Paloma moved away a bit.

"Well, you're so creative Kylee, I'm sure you'll give me the best life..."

"But... I want to know what YOU want!"

Paloma was stunned for a bit, touched. Kylee really cared for her opinion. The selfish onlooker she first met was long gone.

"I'm being honest..." Paloma looked away. "I want whatever you give me. I trust you."

Kylee's stomach sank. She felt the weight of the world on her shoulders, now more than ever.

Paloma looked back at Kylee's serious expression, and she laughed some more. This was too serious for their last night together. "Stop worrying about it, cookie." She laid back down ans snuggled to her side. "Worry about surviving tomorrow. Only you can guarantee me that happy ending."

Kylee's gut sank further. It was the truth, but the pressure was on. She watched Paloma close her eyes and over time, drift away, her sleep as sound as when she was alive.

But Kylee couldn't follow, couldn't even stand to blink. Her anxiety was at an all time high. She had to win. She had to make it up to Paloma. She would be a good god, and rule like her girlfriend would.

Kylee's eyes watered again, mourning prematurely the departure to come. She looked to the ceiling. She would make Paloma happy. She knew her favorite foods, her favorite books, her favorite everything. She would give her the world on a platter, make her have the most fulfilling life. From wealth, to friends, to health and romance. Romance.

Yes.

Kylee was a multishipper. Kylee knew people could mesh well with more than one person. She could find Paloma another lover, a better one!

She would be fine.

Her stomach's knots stayed in place, no matter how long she repeated that phrase.

Yeah, Paloma would be fine.

But Kylee wouldn't.

Kylee had gotten what she wanted.

She would be alone now. Free from societal conventions. Free to do what she wanted. Free to people watch, free to bend wills, free to mess around and turn her ideas into reality.

She will find her own happiness. Somehow. The sentiment felt hollow in her chest.

Panic set in again.

What was she doing? What had she done?

She turned and looked at Paloma's face once more.

If she didn't win... There would be no more world. No more Kylee. No more Paloma.

These were her only options. Stay alone forever, or lose everything.

For the first time since the start of the game, she felt afraid of the outcome.

[solo1y]

A Facebook Convo; 7 Years Ago

Timothy O'Fallon [in a status update about his bible study group]: Let's do this Hemingway style (except badly): Exodus. Tomorrow. We journey The Bible in 1 Year then. And it will be 10AM. Climb the steps to the class above the Cafe at CCC. You might hear something new. You might not. More than likely you will. I would enjoy seeing you there. Well, except for Barry Purcell. Everyone else.

Barry Purcell [me]: You're full of bravado when you have the machinery of Florida's justice system behind you, aren't you? Remember, the restraining order runs out in two weeks. Then I can show up to your bible class any time I like and not a single person in this fine democratic nation you have can stop me.

Stupid joke time - "I had to go to a talk about Exodus, but I managed to get out of it."

Tim: That's the day I will teach the class using the gift of Tongues, Barry. And you can interpret. Ha ha! Er...wait...

Barry: I'd probably translate incorrectly: "And lo he said unto Ezekiel, 'I am shuffling. Yea, verily even unto Israel am I shuffling every day.' And every day he was shuffling."

Tim: But does He stack the deck? That's the controversy you know.

Barry: I guess if he's the one who built the deck in the first place, it would be technically impossible for him to "stack" it.

Tim: I'm telling you, you could teach this class

Barry: I don't think so, Tim. At the end of every class, I'd have to say "Just don't take any of it literally", which is probably anathema to the standards and practices department.

Tim: That would work for everything except for the stuff that was intended to be taken literally

Barry: The further back in time you go, the more likely that it's a more helpful approach to the material, regardless of the intentions of the author.

Tim: Chronological snobbery! Personally, I subscribe to the notion that determining what people mean when they say or write something is critical to understanding what they said or wrote...no matter how far back you go.

Barry: The further back you go, the less literally you have to take what was written in order to understand it. Not only are the earliest documents historically inaccurate, but they don't seem to understand "historical accuracy" even in theory. It's a relatively modern idea which we are imposing on the ancient texts, expecting them to bend to our conception of what "accurate" means. Whose fault is it when they snap under the strain?

A wonderful example is the literature of prophecy, which always, without exception, tells you nothing at all about the future and everything about the people making the predictions. This is true of all predictions made my any people in any culture, ever. But you'll miss that entire layer of reality if you interpret the prophecies literally.

Tim: I see historians (including very good ones) impose modern ideas of history on ancient texts all the time. Finding instances of that sort of thing is one of my most amusing pasttimes (pathetic, I know). But we mustn't mistake that sort of misdeed with the equally false notion that the ancients never intended to relate something that actually happened. That's not a modern idea at all, any more than the embellishment of events is exclusively an ancient habit. There is far less separating you and I from an ancient Chinese calligrapher or an Akkadian scribe than not, a fact that modern historians are at great pains to point out in every area of life except that of writing. Again, I find that amusing. And again, I continue to find it instructive and intellectually fulfilling to try to discern what an ancient writer actually inteded to say. In the case of Scripture, I find it a lot more than intellectually fulfilling. *********** Regarding prophecy, of course prophecy tells you nothing about the future if in fact prophetic prediction of the future is impossible. Ever. But one thing it DOES dell you abou the "people making the predictions" is that they were the sort of people who believed you could make true predictions about future events. And again I find that at least in this way, they aren't much different than me. And this adds a layer of "reality" to me that a skeptic, by definition, cannot attain.

Barry: I'm a skeptic and I accept that they were the sort of people who believed you could make true predictions about future events. You get those sorts of people today too, and their predictions are just as accurate at predicting the future.

Also, it's not so much that they never intended to reflect reality, it's that they would have been unaware of the psychological construct of a 'metaphor'. They frequently used metaphors to reflect their reality in a way that we wouldn't, at least not without flagging it down first. It wasn't a question of 'accurate' or 'inaccurate'. They just didn't think of things in those modern terms. However, as you say, once you are made aware of the common symbol database to which all our cultures refer (thanks to the good work of people like Joe Campbell, Carl Jung and James Frazer inter alia), it becomes easier to work out what the authors of these ancient works were getting at.

As far as I know, the Greeks were the first people to understand this, the first people to question their divine myths, the first people to even be aware of the fact that they could be questioned, and hence philosophy.

Tim: The Greeks were not the first people to question their divine myths, though they may have been among the first to misunderstand their own myths, or mythology itself for that matter. Their work in that area has certainly flourished in modern times. And becoming aware of the symbol databases to which all our cultures refer does indeed, in my view, give us some excellent tools to misunderstand the ancients more conveniently. As far as the ancient unawareness of the psychological construct of a metaphor goes, if by that you mean that they used metaphor much more brilliantly than we do today, and that in most cases they had a much greater understanding of how it ought to be used, I would agree with you wholeheartedly. And you missed my point about the skeptic (I am a skeptic too, just about different things). It was a joke. The skeptic can't share the layer of reality in which he identifies with the belief in prophecy. Now that I've explained it, it doesn't seem funny any more.

Barry: Oh well if you're identifying with prophecy in the sense that you think it's true, then yes. That facility will be denied the skeptic. At least until one of them comes true. Then the skeptics will all be on board.

I don't think they used the metaphor more brilliantly than we do. It was just a different way of looking at things. The Greeks may have misunderstood their own myths, but let us not forget that Socrates, the inventor of philosophy (more or less) got sentence to death specifically for the crime of blasphemy.

Timothy: Of course they won't be on board. See, told you I was a skeptic on some things. **** The way the ancients looked at metaphore was infinitely more mature, subtle, and poetic than the modern method. That's what I meant by brilliant. Admittedly, they were less encumbered by psychological theory and the new philology, but I think that's a good thing. And Socrates was sentenced to death in part for blasphemy, but everyone then as now knew very well that is not why he was sentenced to death. You might say he died of metaphor.

Barry: Blasphemy was the charge on the ticket, but of course he was killed for more practical reasons.

Socrates had absolutely no fear of anything; felt like he was on a divine quest to improve the lives of everyone in the world; never wrote anything down himself (so we are forced to rely on the accounts, often written long after his death, of others who make various claims on him); amassed a small gang of followers who delighted in his witty and intellectual take-downs of establishment and authority figures; tried and failed to reject his responsibilities; had his early life (at least the first 30 years) completely shrouded in mystery, relegated to one or two anecdotes; refused to defend himself properly against the charges of blasphemy when called upon to do so; accepted the death sentence even though it was well within his power to avoid it; and ultimately put more value on the truth than his own life.

You might indeed say that he "died of metaphor".

Tim: And we know all this about him because we believe we have ascertained the intent of those ancients who wrote about him. Barry, listen, I just think that when we apply modern theories of interpretation to ancient authors (the "what he REALLY must have meant (even without realizing it)" school of interpretation, we do the author a disservice. And I think we are further from understanding him or her, not closer. For example, I doubt very much I have ever met anyone in my life more misinterpreted than you. I see it happen all the time: you say something clever, it gets interpreted as a personal insult, and a personal insult gets thrown at you in return for your non-insult. But unlike the ancient authors, you are right here to clarify what you intended. Still, the person who originally misinterpreted your intent holds fast to their misinterpretation. It is comic and a little sad. But it shows that people prefer to interpret things based on their perception of things (such as the perception that you are an offensive little snit) rather than the intent of the author. Imagine, if it is that bad for you, how badly our modern perceptions - even ones not formulated by the Jungian school - mangle the intent of the ancients, who aren;t even here to clarify. In my class, I teach (or try to) on the theory that before we can evaluate anything about a text, we first need to do our best to figure out what the original author of that text intended it to mean. Sometimes, as you pointed out, they have a different way of looking at things than we do, and so of course that goes into determining their intent as well. But I do not subscribe to the notion that just because an author is ancient, that he thinks COMPLETELY differently than we do, or that the further back we go the more alien it is when he writes "the emperor made a sacrifice to the gods to cure his toothache" (oracle bones) or "and he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither, and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper"(psalm 1). The intent of the author is comprehensible because we are more alike than not; the distance between us in time does little to distance us in basic inference or the conceptions that follow from it.

Barry: Fair enough. My original concern was that not so much that we might think of modern ways of interpreting texts as "better", but that we would subconsciously parse all those ancient texts through our modern filters *before* we even get around to asking what the author meant. We are often unaware of how much damage we can do to an ancient text just by deciding what does or doesn't count as inside the parameters of what the author meant, and we are often unaware that we're even doing it.

Nothing I've said here is peculiar to the bible, by the way. All this would work as well for the Iliad, or any other ancient text. Despite the sterling work of Schliemann, we may never know for sure what went on at Troy, or if it happened at all. But *something* happened to cause some literary masterminds to record it. And that's as good a start as any.

Maybe what I'm saying is that the further back we go, the less likely it is for us to encounter literal, accurate history in the modern sense, because there was no modern sense of literal, accurate history back then. Does that sound better?