Windmills near Giethoorn by Willem Bastiaan Tholen 1860-1931 
#art
#demiurge
The word means literally a public worker, demioergós, demiourgós, and was originally used to designate any craftsman plying his craft or trade for the use of the public. Soon, however, technítes and other words began to be used to designate the common artisan while demiurge was set aside for the Great Artificer or Fabricator, the Architect of the universe. At first the words toû kósmou were added to distinguish the great Workman from others, but gradually demiourgós became the technical term for the Maker of heaven and earth. In this sense it is used frequently by Plato in his "Timæus". Although often loosely employed by the Fathers and others to indicate the Creator, the word never strictly meant "one who produces out of nothing" (for this the Greeks used ktístes), but only "one who fashions, shapes, and models". A creator in the sense of Christian theology has no place in heathen philosophy, which always presupposes the existence of matter. Moreover, according to Greek philosophy the world-maker is not necessarily identical with God, as first and supreme source of all things; he may be distinct from and inferior to the supreme spirit, though he may also be the practical expression of the reason of God, the Logos as operative in the harmony of the universe. In this sense, i.e. that of a world-maker distinct from the Supreme God, Demiurge became a common term in Gnosticism. The Gnostics, however, were not satisfied merely to emphasize the distinction between the Supreme God, or God the Father, and the Demiurge, but in many of their systems they conceived the relation of the Demiurge to the Supreme God as one of actual antagonism, and the Demiurge became the personification of the power of evil, the Satan of Gnosticism, with whom the faithful had to wage war to the end that they might be pleasing to the Good God. The Gnostic Demiurge then assumes a surprising likeness to Ahriman, the evil counter-creator of Ormuzd in Mazdean philosophy. The character of the Gnostic Demiurge became still more complicated when in some systems he was identified with Jehovah, the God of the Jews or of the Old Testament, and was brought in opposition to Christ of the New Testament, the Only-Begotten Son of the Supreme and Good God. The purpose of Christ's coming as Saviour and Redeemer was to rescue us from the power of the Demiurge, the lord of the world of this darkness, and bring us to the light of the Good God, His Father in heaven. The last development in the character of the Demiurge was due to Jehovah being primarily considered as he who gave the Law on Sinai, and hence as the originator of all restraint on the human will. As the Demiurge was essentially evil, all his work was such; in consequence all law was intrinsically evil and the duty of the children of the Good God was to transgress this law and to trample upon its precepts. This led to the wildest orgies of Antinomian Gnosticism.
According to Valentinus the Demiurge was the offspring of a union of Achamoth (he káta sophía or lower wisdom) with matter. And as Achamoth herself was only the daughter of Sophía the last of the thirty Æons, the Demiurge was distant by many emanations from the Propatôr, or Supreme God. The Demiurge in creating this world out of Chaos was unconsciously influenced for good by Jesus Soter; and the universe, to the surprise even of its Maker, became almost perfect. The Demiurge regretted even its slight imperfection, and as he thought himself the Supreme God, he attempted to remedy this by sending a Messias. To this Messias, however, was actually united Jesus the Saviour, Who redeemed men. These are either hulikoí, or pneumatikoí. The first, or carnal men, will return to the grossness of matter and finally be consumed by fire; the second, or psychic men, together with the Demiurge as their master, will enter a middle state, neither heaven (pleroma) nor hell (hyle); the purely spiritual men will be completely freed from the influence of the Demiurge and together with the Saviour and Achamoth, his spouse, will enter the pleroma divested of body (húle) and soul (psuché). In this most common form of Gnosticism the Demiurge had an inferior though not intrinsically evil function in the universe as the head of the psychic world. According to Marcion, the Demiurge was to be sharply distinguished from the Good God; the former was díkaios, severely just, the latter agathós, or loving-kind; the former was the God of the Jews, the latter the true God of the Christians. Christ, though in reality the Son of the Good God, pretended to be the Messias of the Demiurge, the better to spread the truth concerning His heavenly Father. The true believer in Christ entered into God's kingdom, the unbeliever remained forever the slave of the Demiurge. To this form of Gnosticism, the Demiurge has assumed already a more evil aspect. According to the Naassenes the God of the Jews is not merely díkaios, but he is the great tyrant Jaldabaoth, or Son of Chaos. He is Demiurge and maker of man, but as a ray of light from above enters the body of man and gives him a soul; Jaldabaoth is filled with envy; he tries to limit man's knowledge by forbidding him the fruit of knowledge in paradise. The Demiurge, fearing lest Jesus, whom he had intended as his Messias, should spread the knowledge of the Supreme God, had him crucified by the Jews. At the consummation of all things all light will return to the pleroma; but Jaldabaoth, the Demiurge, with the material world, will be cast into the lower depths. Some of the Ophites or Naassenes venerated all persons reprobated in the Old Testament, such as Cain, or the people of Sodom, as valiant resisters of the Demiurge. In these weird systems the idea of the world-maker was degraded to the uttermost. Amongst the Gnostics, however, who as a rule set some difference between the Demiurge and the Supreme God, there was one exception; for according to the Ebionites, whose opinions have come down to us in the Pseudo-Clementine literature, there is no difference between the Highest God and the Demiurge. They are identical, and the God Who made heaven and earth is worthy of the adoration of men. On the other hand the Gnostic system is tainted with pantheism, and its Demiurge is not a creator but only a world-builder. (See GNOSTICISM; VALENTINUS; MARCION.)
J. P. ARENDZEN
Happy #Easter 
Ars longa, vita brevis
GM what is a good movie about the crusades? #asknostr
It looks to be a short-eared owl. Very cool!
What did you replace them with - candles?
The fool of the world and the flying ship on youtube
The 1601 town hall in Schoorl, North Holland was moved several meters and reconstructed brick by brick when the neighbouring road was widened in the 1930s. The care with which this was done reflects the sanctity of heritage #architecture for the Dutch. I am reminded of the ritual reconstruction of Ise shrine by our Japanese brothers. 
Next level bricklaying in an Amsterdam renovation project. The brick pier with ornamental step profile was tearing away from the main structure. It is redone after improving the foundations #architecture 
#Flemish bond is one of many masonry systems traditionally used in north-west europe. Characteristic for flemish bond are the alternating stretchers and headers in each layer, providing strength and a visually pleasing effect. #architecture 
Please enable zaps 😀
#architecture 
Thank you, we don't talk enough about evolutionary biology. Genetic research has brought out many more examples of convergent evolution, which is a stunning thing.
ChatGPT, write a 500 word essay in the style of Donna Haraway, celebrating the tenets of the #Austrian school of economics but without mentioning the Austrian school of economics, and coining a new term "myceliocene"
Embracing the Myceliocene: A Celebration of Decentralized Wisdom and Flourishing Futures
In a world of interconnectedness, where the web of life stretches its tendrils deep into the soil of human existence, we must rethink the paradigms that govern our lives and resources. It is time for us to embrace a new era—an era I will call the Myceliocene—an epoch where the decentralized, organic wisdom of life itself governs our actions, our markets, and our societies. Like the mycelial networks that thread through the earth, connecting each tree, plant, and organism, the #Myceliocene is a call to recognize the power of local knowledge, emergent cooperation, and spontaneous order in the creation of wealth, flourishing, and sustainability.
In the Myceliocene, we understand that the processes that shape life are not imposed from above, but emerge from the ground up. Just as mycelium expands from the smallest spore, each individual and local community carries with it the capacity to know what is needed in its own environment. The wisdom of this decentralized knowledge, scattered like spores across the landscape, is what makes true change possible. It is a system that thrives not because it is controlled, but because it is responsive and adaptive to the conditions around it.
Consider how mycelium functions. It doesn't create one singular pathway for all nutrients; rather, it weaves an intricate, flexible network, responding to the environment's needs in real-time. This is how economies—true economies, not the top-down control systems that have so often dominated human history—should work. In the Myceliocene, resources flow through networks of individual choices and decentralized exchanges, not dictated by centralized authority or massive, monolithic institutions. The economy is a living organism that benefits from diversity, spontaneity, and self-organization. There is no single blueprint for success, because there is no singular, centralized authority that could ever understand the complexities of the ecosystem as well as the beings that live within it.
In the Myceliocene, human beings are not isolated actors who must fight for their survival in a world of scarcity; instead, we are part of a vast, interdependent web where each action has a ripple effect, where cooperation is not coerced but emerges naturally from the local knowledge that each participant holds. Markets in the Myceliocene are not arenas for competition to the death, but ecosystems of collaboration. This does not mean that individual actors lose their autonomy, but rather that they are encouraged to express their creativity and innovation in ways that strengthen the overall system. Like mushrooms pushing through the soil, ideas and innovations are allowed to rise when the conditions are right—fueled by the insights, aspirations, and dreams of the people closest to the problems that need solving.
Capital flows, not as a centralized, planned river, but as a network of nutrient exchanges, growing where there is the most fertile ground. It is not concentrated in the hands of a few, but dispersed through a million small streams that feed the soil of possibility. This is how we move beyond the static, predictable systems of control and into a world where abundance flows naturally—one that is not managed by a distant, often disconnected government, but by the individuals and communities whose knowledge is rooted in their experience, in their place.
In the Myceliocene, wealth is not measured by the accumulation of resources in the hands of a few, but by the vibrancy of the network itself—the richness of the connections made, the diversity of pathways, and the flourishing of each organism within it. By embracing this new epoch, we can cultivate a world that grows, not through top-down imposition, but through the decentralized, emergent intelligence of life itself.
This is the promise of the Myceliocene: a world of networks, of spontaneous order, where each of us contributes to the greater whole—not through control, but through cooperation, creativity, and the wisdom of the interconnected web. A world where abundance is not the product of manipulation but of organic growth, responding to the needs and potentials of the moment.