The Hermit Upright:

In 4^th century B.C., Athens was blessed (some believed cursed) by the presence of one of the leading philosophers of the age—the irascible Diogenes the Cynic.  Famous for preferring the company of dogs to that of men, Diogenes believed that society, for the most part, was crap. He stated that there was only one good—knowledge—and one evil—ignorance—and that everything else was useless.  He probably would have vastly preferred the life of a hermit, living off in the desert alone, only no one had invented it yet.  So he contented himself by living within society, but pointing out its stupidity whenever possible.

Diogenes believed that most people wasted their lives acquiring things they didn’t need instead of the knowledge they so obviously did.  He made a point of living on as little as possible, taking up residence in an old water tub—the ancient Greek equivalent of a cardboard box—and destroying the single wooden cup he owned after seeing a peasant boy drink from the hollow of his hands.  One of the few items he did keep around was a lamp, with which he prowled the streets in broad daylight, “looking for an honest man.”  He never found one.  

Despite his poverty, Diogenes considered himself rich in comparison to those who earned their keep by sucking up to important men. Plato, his more famous contemporary, once saw him preparing a humble meal consisting mostly of lentils.  “If you would only learn to compliment kings, you wouldn't have to live on lentils,” he advised.  Diogenes replied, "But if you would only learn to live on lentils, you wouldn't have to compliment kings.”

Diogenes himself certainly didn’t.  He once met Alexander the Great when the Macedonian ruler sought him out on a trip to Athens.  Upon finding the great philosopher sunning himself on a hillside, Alexander asked if there was any favor he might do for him. Diogenes replied, “Yes, you could stand out of my sunlight.”

They finally did have a conversation, in which Diogenes asked Alexander what his ambitions were.  Alexander replied proudly that he intended to conquer all of Greece.  And then? Diogenes asked.  Alexander said that he would go on to take over Asia Minor.  What next? Alexander replied that he ultimately intended to conquer the world.  And then what? Diogenes persisted.  Alexander thought for a moment, and finally replied that he supposed that then he would relax and enjoy himself.  Diogenes responded: Why not save yourself the trouble and relax and enjoy yourself now?

Alexander ignored Diogenes’ advice and did go on to conquer most of the known world of his day—before dying at the age of thirty-two without ever getting the chance to enjoy it.  He was so caught up with society and its expected norms—that wealth, power, and success were what mattered most—that he couldn’t see anything else.  Nonetheless, amazed at the old philosopher’s originality of thought, Alexander declared, “If I were not Alexander, then I should wish to be Diogenes.”  It is doubtful that Diogenes would have returned the compliment. 

Diogenes the Cynic, the ancient Greek philosopher most famous for poking fun at the pretentious aspects of society, is our Hermit. He saw no reason to conform to others’ expectations, particularly when they were based on nothing more than custom.  He thought it ridiculous that people would circumvent their lives by rules that some other, long-dead person had put into effect—rules which might make little sense in a new era. 

That disdain for convention extended to conventional etiquette. When asked why he ate in the marketplace, which was considered bad manners, he shrugged and replied that it was in the market that he’d felt hungry.  Someone who knew Diogenes’ bad habits took him into a magnificent house and warned him not to spit on the floor, only to have him expectorate in the host’s face instead.  Once invited to dinner by a wealthy man, Diogenes displayed his usual bad manners, so enraging one of the guests that the man began to throw bones at him, saying that if he acted like a dog, he’d treat him as one.  So Diogenes got up, went over to the guest, and urinated on him.

His supporters viewed him as refreshingly honest (and pretty damn funny); his detractors thought he was an ill-tempered old grouch. Diogenes seemed to agree with the latter.  He once asked, “Of what use is a philosopher who doesn't hurt anybody's feelings?”  The answer might be: a philosopher who cares about spreading his philosophy. 

"Discourse on virtue and they pass by in droves,” Diogenes once said. “But whistle and dance a jig, and you’ve got an audience." He never understood that being agreeable didn’t have to equate to selling out one’s ideals.  On visiting the home of Plato, he stomped upon his host’s fine carpets saying, “I am trampling on the pride of Plato."  "Yes, Diogenes,” Plato replied, “with pride of another sort."  Plato and Aristotle, Diogenes’ contemporaries, didn’t whistle or dance, but they also refrained from spitting in faces--and they and their views became much better known as a result.    

The Hermit card reversed, likewise, speaks of someone so suspicious or bitter against the world that he refuses any help it has to offer.  Diogenes wanted to remake society, yet his outlandish behavior resulted in men laughing at him more than they listened. "Man is the most intelligent of the animals -- and the most silly," he once said spitefully.  He never realized that the same could have been said for Diogenes.