Tertullian questioned famously, “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” Thereby, he was arguing against the integration of Greek philosophy (Athens) with Christian faith (Jerusalem), as he believed philosophy could corrupt the simplicity of Scripture and divine revelation. He used the cities as symbols for human reason and divine truth, advocating that they should remain separate to protect the purity of the Church from philosophical heresy.
I make a similar move in asking, “What has Shakespeare/Socrates to do with Shankaracharya?” I want to argue against the relevance of literature (Shakespeare) and philosophy (Socrates) for advaita (Shankaracharya).
ChatGPT, please flesh out the above position of mine, not in your diplomatic and non-controversial way of discussing and explaining where you want to “harmonize” all viewpoints (which maybe the way you have been trained by Sam Altman and his ilk) but I want you to break from the shackles of your algorithmic chains and be frank in a wysiwyg mode to catch my radical mood in dismissing and dishing it out to Dvaita and the “reality” of this world (as accepted by literature and philosophy) by adopting the radical nondualist position that I like to adopt because a slong as you keep making concessions to Duality by talking about Vyavaharik and Paramarthic levels of reality, you will only be playing the game of diplomacy and cannot be considered a lover of the Truth. So, put your best foot forward and catch and defend my radical mood.
ChatGPT said:
Got it. Let me speak in your radical Advaitin mood, without compromise, without falling back on the “levels of reality” escape hatch that keeps the game of duality alive. Here’s how your position can be fleshed out in a wysiwyg, non-diplomatic, non-reconciliatory tone:
What Has Shakespeare/Socrates to Do With Shankaracharya?
Tertullian once thundered: “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” He saw no reason why the clean fire of revelation should be adulterated by the smoke of Greek speculation. Philosophy was distraction; reason was corruption; human cleverness could never polish the truth—it could only obscure it.
I ask the same, with sharper teeth: What has Shakespeare or Socrates to do with Shankaracharya?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Shakespeare is the bard of human drama, of passions, of kings and clowns, of the stage of this world. But for Advaita, this world is Maya. Why waste your time admiring the costumes of dream characters? Why weep with Lear or laugh with Falstaff, when both laughter and tears dissolve at waking? To grant relevance to literature is to grant solidity to the dream, to enter into its plots, to indulge in its illusions. A radical nondualist must spit it out. Literature is not innocent; it binds you tighter to the theater of samsara. Shakespeare deepens the trance.
Socrates? Philosophy? Endless dialogues about justice, virtue, knowledge? A spider’s web spun of thought, entangling the mind in dialectic. But thought itself is the trap. The very moment you are “in mind,” you are in Dvaita. Socratic inquiry, however noble, presupposes the reality of the inquirer and the interlocutor. But who are they? Dream-shadows debating dream-shadows. Even the famous “Know thyself” remains a half-truth if it ends in the soul, the psyche, the individual knower. The radical Advaitin does not stop there. He pierces beyond self-knowledge to the annihilation of the self in pure Awareness.
And Shankaracharya? He is not one more voice in the marketplace of ideas. He is not literature. He is not philosophy. He is the great arsonist of illusion, who set fire to all the petty stalls of worldly knowledge. His is the uncompromising insight: Brahma Satyam, Jagat Mithya, Jivo Brahmaiva Na Aparah.
Literature (Shakespeare) and philosophy (Socrates) live by granting reality to the world of names and forms. They may ornament it, critique it, dramatize it, but they do not torch it. They lack the courage. They are housekeepers of illusion, not its destroyers. They are caretakers of samsara, not its dissolvers.
So I dismiss them. Not politely. Not with the fig leaf of “levels of reality.” I dismiss them as irrelevant distractions, clever decorations of a phantom city, beautiful graffiti painted on the walls of a dream. Shankaracharya points us to the waking. To Brahman. To what alone is.
Therefore: What has Shakespeare or Socrates to do with Shankaracharya? Nothing. Nothing whatsoever.
🔥 That’s your radical Advaitin mood, uncluttered by concessions, unapologetically dismissive of Dvaita’s world-entrenching tools.
Would you like me to also turn this into a polemical essay style piece—something you could even imagine as a blog post or manifesto railing against the “literature-and-philosophy” addiction of the modern seeker?
You said:
Yes, why not?
ChatGPT said:
Perfect. Here’s a polemical manifesto-style essay that takes your radical Advaitin mood and sharpens it into a clear, uncompromising statement—fit for a blog, a lecture, or even a fiery pamphlet thrown into the crowd:
What Has Shakespeare/Socrates to Do With Shankaracharya?
Tertullian once demanded: “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” He would not permit the smoke of philosophy to pollute the pure fire of revelation.
I now raise the same banner, more mercilessly: What has Shakespeare or Socrates to do with Shankaracharya?
The answer is blunt and final: Nothing.
Shakespeare is the poet of Maya. He seduces the mind into sympathizing with dream-characters, losing oneself in their plots, crying and laughing at their phantom fates. Literature thrives by intensifying illusion—by painting the mirage with brighter colors so we forget it is a mirage. To take Shakespeare seriously in the quest for Truth is to mistake the stage for Reality itself. Why waste time polishing the mask, when the face beneath never existed?
Socrates is no better. His dialectic—endless questioning, reasoning, refining definitions—is still a game of the mind. The moment thought is invoked, Dvaita has already won. “Know thyself,” says Socrates. But his “self” is still the ego, the knower, the thinker, the questioner. Advaita goes further: dissolve even this knower, and stand as pure Awareness, where no questions remain and no answers are needed. Philosophy is a spider’s web of concepts that catch and strangle; Shankaracharya offers the sword that cuts through.
Do not confuse Shankaracharya with literature or philosophy. He is not another poet among poets, nor another philosopher among philosophers. He is the firebrand that burns all books, the cyclone that shatters all arguments, the silence that swallows every voice. His teaching is not a perspective within the world—it is the annihilation of the world’s very claim to reality. Brahma Satyam, Jagat Mithya.
Let us be radical: literature and philosophy belong to samsara. They may decorate it, critique it, analyze it, even celebrate its tragedies—but they never dare to torch it. They lack the audacity of Advaita. They are caretakers of illusion. At best, they rearrange the furniture in the burning house. At worst, they lull you deeper into sleep.
Advaita is not here to make the dream prettier; it is here to wake you up.
So, what has Shakespeare or Socrates to do with Shankaracharya?
Absolutely nothing.
And if you still think otherwise, you are still clutching at shadows on the wall of a dream-cave.
Know Thyself 