Moristotelians All

Aristotle: marble copy of bronze bust
by Lysippus, Louvre Museum

To think we were here the whole time!

By Moristotle

I had a Goines moment a few days ago, when it hit me for the very first time that the term “Aristotelian” that accompanies the name Aristotle naturally gives us “Moristotelian” to accompany Aristotle’s spiritual descendant Moristotle. I so surprised and excited myself that I ran the term by the staff, asking them:

How would you feel about the term “Moristotelians” to refer to members of the staff of Moristotle & Co.?

    One thought it “Excellent! Just don’t call me Lilliputian!” He added that “Aristotle was a Thomist. Or was it the other way round?”

    This brought back memories of reading Aquinas’ Summa Theologica as an undergraduate philosophy major, how the Summa is replete with references to “The Philosopher” (Aristotle). So, it was the other way around: Aquinas was an Aristotelian!
    But Thomas Aquinas [who came along 1,600 years after Aristotle] was widely read; from Wikipedia:

Throughout the Summa, Aquinas cites Christian, Muslim, Hebrew, and Pagan sources, including, but not limited to: Christian Sacred Scripture, Aristotle, Augustine of Hippo, Avicenna, Averroes, Al-Ghazali, Boethius, John of Damascus, Paul the Apostle, Pseudo-Dionysius, Maimonides, Anselm of Canterbury, Plato, Cicero, and John Scotus Eriugena.

One of the historians on the staff elaborated further:

St. Thomas Aquinas’ theology/philosophy was based on Aristotle as interpreted by the Arabic scholar, Averroes. Aquinas did not read Aristotle in the original Greek, which obviously placed some limitations on his understanding of Aristotle.

    The reference to Aquinas also reminded me that I was, and still am, a failed divinity student.

But another staff member suggested an alternative: “Moristotle & The Platitudes,” reminding us that Plato was Aristotle’s teacher.
    “Platitudes” troubled my sleep that night. The suggestion had me worrying that this staffer might be criticizing our editorial content. That thought led to the horrible question whether the word “platitude” might actually have derived from “Plato,” might first have been used by someone who looked down on Plato and was critical of some of the things he said.
    Fortunately, when I looked “platitude” up in the morning, I learned it wasn’t so; it came from the French word plat, or flat, and its first known use occurred in 1762 (according to Merriam-Webster). Still...flat’s pretty bad. And another staffer commented that “whatever significance ‘platitude’ may have is far overshadowed by the current understanding of the word – one definitely to be avoided.”

    When I asked what motivated the suggestion, I was relieved to learn that “‘Moristotle & The Platitudes’ just sounded funny.” I laughed at the joke and let it go.
    And, when another member of the staff (an emeritus member, actually) said that he, too, kind of liked “Moristotle & The Platitudes,” I realized that I probably need to remind myself of it whenever I begin to take myself too seriously.

Another endorsement of “Moristotelians”: “Very cool. I feel like I’m in the Dead Poets Society,” which made me realize that that was kind of how I think of it, though I had never flattered myself as a reincarnation of Robin Williams.
    “But wouldn‘t ‘Morris and the Platitudes’ be a great name for a rock band!” this member added.
    Another seeming endorsement came in the form of “Knock yourself out,” but since that’s an idiom for “Go ahead, do as you please,” I asked for clarification. Yes, this staffer intended it in the same way as the “Break a leg!” idiom from theater, where it’s a way of saying, “Good luck!”

The staffer emeritus also told us that “Moristotelian” is hard to pronounce, describing the alternative “Moristelian” (which he admitted “doesn’t give full drift”) as “at least potentially pronounceable.”
    Good point. How does one pronounce “Moristotelian”? Answer [cadged from dictionary.com]:

 It has five syllables, with a stress on the 1^st & 4^th. You might practice saying it a few times.
    The staffer emeritus wasn’t convinced. “Could we just go with ‘Moristots’? Just sayin’.”

So now, at last, you are invited to refer to members of the staff of Moristotle & Co. (and to its followers, if you like) as “Moristotelians”!
       The sidebar already reflects this: “EDITORIAL BOARD” → “THE MORISTOTELIANS of the Editorial Board,” and “Emeritus Members of the Staff” → “Moristotelians Emeritus.”
    I am grateful for the collaboration of members of the staff – a community of Moristotelians all! (And I’m still amazed that it took me eight years of our being “Moristotle & Co.” to think of the term “Moristotelians.”)

Copyright © 2020 by Moristotle