La Salle University - Explorer Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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Chariots surround the Temple of the Adonises upon Haemon Hill . . . The Tragedy of Aristothenes woman, pale-faced with gilded hair, holding a great steel spear and clutching a horse-hair crested hel- met, appeared to Aristothenes (Ari, for short) in a dream. Aristothnes, you have been assigned by the gods to research the meaning of Life — to seek the meaning of Knowledge and it all must be turned in by Monday, first period. Athene paused a moment, tapping her spear on the table- top. Typed, five to eight pages, and paper-clipped. Then she vanished in a puff of purple knowledged smoke. In the morning, knowing he had had a vision and had an assign- ment due, Ari shoved his feet into his boots, put on his chiton, and threw on his thin cloak. Slamming the door to assure awakening his roommate, he left his Spartan dormitory. He headed toward the place where he thought he might consult wise men — he trudged to the Temple of the Adonises upon Haemon Hill. Braving the eerie stares of red-green eyed monsters standing guard at the low gate and dodging Charon, now doomed for eternity to a small cage to read magazines and snarl at uninvited chariots that dared enter hallowed Temple grounds, Ari struggled to the Temple doors. He hid amidst the shaggy pines near Phransis, the little known abode of secluded jockish, studious humans. Rain began misting down from the heavens and Ari wished he ' d brought a warmer cloak. He realised he had no identification, no tribal mark, no physical stamina so he might resemble those humans who held rituals within the Temple. Excuses began filling his mind — I ' ll tell Athene 1 need an extension . . . my room was surf ' s- upped ... 1 fell asleep in the library doing research ... But then a long-legged youth, light-footed and dressed in Adidas shorts, came sprinting toward him. Upon the youth ' s head was a maroon cap with silver wings and visor, upon his face was a robber ' s grin, upon his shoulder was a divine music box, throbbing archaic disco. Ari tackled the runner — the pair slid across the pathway and over the wet grass. Help me get into the Temple! You are quick-silvered and surely a prince to afford such a tape-deck! The youth stared at Ari, then blinked his gull-grey eyes. Spitting out a blade of grass: Ah, you ' re the kid with the assign- ment . . . Certainly, I ' ll help you. I am Hermes! He clapped his hands and two validated ID.s appeared. Flash this into the sweat- suited guards ' eyes as we pass through the doors. Thus the two jogged to the crystal doors, jogged passed the cruel guards blinding them so they might not recognize the pair. Down into the steamy bowels of the great Temple, past the hidden sauna, the forbidden racquetball and sacred squash, they finally reached the ritual room and disrobed. Eventually they found themselves on the suspended track over the arena. They began running, following the athletes in their task. What is the meaning of Life and Knowledge? Ari questioned the first runner as they rounded the track. The runner panted his response. Life ' s based on carbon ... No, uhm, Life and Knowledge ... Ari gasped out of shape. Oh, that . . . uhm, check a philosophy major . . . I ' m bio-chem, pre-med, you know. Ask the prophets of Mount Wysteron. Mount Wysteron? Ari, so fearful of the dreaded place, tripped over his united laces. He tumbled to the track floor. Hermes hauled him to his feet and they fled the Temple.

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Philadelphia Museum of Art: First regarded by many as a defiant intrusion to the park, its very power is what has made the building irreplaceable. — Architecture in Philadelphia by Edward Teitelman and Richard Longstreth. A twelve year project completed in 1928 facing the Benja- min Franklin Parkway, the museum is one of Philadel- phia ' s finest examples of Greek architecture. xplorer 1982 has four Tragic Muses — one for each age. C ' Clothed in the garb of either the Greek, Ro- man, Renaissance, or Modern age, they will accompany you through this book. Perhaps a better title for them would be Explorers. For, while many of these scenes may be famil- iar, there will also be much that is new. If these Muses are tragic in any sense, it is only because, as they live o ' er each scene, the representation is still incomplete. Explorers only blaze the trail that you must bring to fulfillment. To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, To raise the genius, and to mend the heart; To make mankind in conscious virtue bold, Live o ' er each scene, and be what they behold: For this the Tragic Muse first trod the stage. Alexander Pope

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Once outside in the raging storm, Hermes pointed to the shroud- ed mountain on the horizon. Let us attempt to climb the Wysteron ... Ari began considering a change in his paper topic. Black thunderclouds whipped about the great pinnacles and slick cliffs of Wysteron. Lightning screamed through the air. Hud- dling in their cloaks, Hermes and Ari stared in vain to see the top of the mountain. How shall we reach the top . . . once we start climbing we can not turn back or we might fall into the abyss and join all of those who failed in the attempt of philosophy. Yes, we must reach the top before nightfall or we shall never find the prophets of the mountain in the dark, Hermes recalled, wishing he ' d let this character to do his own research. Hermes conjoured liederhausen, pick-axes and a Greek tragic chorus of yodelers to help them in their lengthy climb. Casting their ropes and hammering their pitons, Ari and the god began their perilous climb. Had Ari known the perils . . . herds of bleating Freshmen, wan- dering, condemned never to find their classrooms . . . the echoes of wooden clogs beating time upon an endless staircase within the mountain . . . the bitter winds whis- tling through the cracks of the stone . . . had Ar i known these perils, he would have turned back, changed his major, anything! But Hermes encour- aged him — together they would sur- vive. (Ari did not think this so reassur- ing from an immortal.) Apollo had parked his sun chariot at noon to eat lunch. Though the sun blared its heat. Wysteron remained cold and more mist enshrouded the peak. Rain pelted down upon the two as they trudged onward. Finally the chorus insisted upon its contracted lunch-break so they all rested. Hermes beguiled a mountain nymph to give him a package of chocolate chip cookies. But the nymph pawed for an hour in her back- pack before she could find them. Ari and the god gnawed their cookies, wishing they had some wine to go with them. Once the chorus finished its meal and had tuned up again, Ari and Hermes continued their climb. The climate had changed. Electric- ity permeated the air. A smell of death, old scrolls and codexes rotting in higher atmosphere, wafted down. Scraps of intellect tumbled down the slopes. This sudden bombardment evoked the spirits of philosophy failures and Other World intelli- gence. The earth is round and four point five billion years old ... Literature is truth! The poets see the world as truth! E = M(? . . . but Einstein hasn ' t invented that yet. Kino Pravda! Life is nothing without Wall Street! Stop! Stop the torments! Ari screamed. This is as wretched as Orientation Day! With that he wept, unable to press any further no matter how encouraging Hermes could be. Suddenly a Voice from the Wilderness called: Come in here, seekers of Life and Knowledge ... Huh? Ari and Hermes stared around — they could not see who had called. quick-silvered Hermes? Where are you? Ari sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Here, oh lowly humans! came the Voice again. Two pairs of book-worn hands snatched the two youths by the shoulders and dragged them into the mountain through a rattling window. The mountain was filled with brilliant light, blue and harsh from the video-machines. Zeroxed papers blew like leaves through the long stone corridors. Robed men and women argued Kant and Plato. Others wandered about, reading Greek, Latin and Hebrew, and comparing notes of translations and Doonesbury. The Voice and its companion led the youths down the corridor to the great Office. Bow, grovel as you enter ... spoke the Voice in the Wilder- ness as the hands forced them to their knees. Bow before Depart- ment Head! Crawling as they should, Ari and Hermes squirmed before the monstrous black desk. Term papers fluttered off in gentle waves. Oh great Department Head! Hermes trembled for he ' d bought his own term paper from a frat file and it now sat before Depart- ment Head. We have come to seek answers from you and your followers. Thunder rumbled behind the desk. A yellow light began to glow be- hind the dark desk. Speak! For I shall know the answers to this dilemma. How do you want it? Hume-flavored or sprinkled with Witt- genstein? How ever you see fit. Department Head ... Hermes, the immortal, hid his face for fear of recognition. Ari dared rise to his knees but kept his eyes cast down. What is the meaning of Life . . . the meaning of Knowledge? Silence en- sured. A low rumbling came up from the center of the light as Department Head thought. Cosmic overtook chaos. The answer is ... The heavy doors of the Office burst open. A prophet came racing in, sweat- ing and swinging his beads. Pardon oh great Department Head! There has been a theft! The radiance of Department Head flickered as his glow rose from his chair. A theft? Upon the sacred Mount Wysteron? Yes, that exchange student. Dioge- nes, he ' s stolen a lamp down the hall and is wandering the neighborhood bragging o ' er some flaky mission ... We must retrieve our sacred, expen- sive, imported lamp! Sorry, can ' t answer your question now, son- ny, but come back later . . . and make an appointment next time. With that Department Head and his prophets gathered their robes and beads and raced madly down the corridors into another dimen- sion. Downtrodden and still without answers, Ari and Hermes found the elevator and slowly rode to the bottom of the great mountain. Hermes paid off the chorus who left with sore-throats and tired feet. It was midnight before Ari managed to get back to his Spartan dormitory. As he fell into bed. Ari pondered all his adventures. He still had all of Sunday to come up with something for his paper.