Posts by Charles

Just a side note the author has also written other books in his series of "The Way of X". The bias or inclination he holds is rather obvious.

They consist of:

"Exploring the Way of Lao Tzu"

"Exploring the Way of Epictetus"

"Exploring the Way of Jesus"

"The Way of the Stoic Epictetus"

"Exploring the Way of the Buddha"

"The Way of Sophia"

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00…vapi_tkin_p1_i0

One of the Epicurean books on my shelf I've been meaning to notch in this forum list for a long time now. It's very faithful in reciting source material, especially Laertius and Usener's "Epicurea", with plenty of original greek text under each page. However, it's very messy and some translations can be spotty, like the usage of "space" instead of "void", while also veering a little too close to the tranquil interpretation and choosing "happiness" over "pleasure".

Cassius I have an archive of some 3d printed material. I'll post the links here since the attachment option has such a small cap.

https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/epic…e24091256d3af57 (Neck and head of Epicurus - best model by far)

https://www.myminifactory.com/object/3d-print-epicurus-25611 (Bust of Metrodorus despite title saying its Epicurus)

https://www.myminifactory.com/object/3d-prin…-epicurus-34291 (Head of Epicurus - with busted nose)

https://www.turbosquid.com/3d-models/free…d-model/1006704 (Double Herm of Epicurus & Metrodorus)

https://www.myminifactory.com/object/3d-prin…-london-uk-6093 (Another head of Epicurus)

https://cults3d.com/en/3d-model/ar…re-paris-france (Bust of Metrodorus)

http://www.digitalsculpture.org/archive/epicur…reconstructions (A blog detailing the process of reconstructing statues of Epicurus digitally)

https://www.shapeways.com/product/R2YGLS…dant-1-5-inches (I can't find the model but this is worth mention, a pendant with the "stocky" but recognizable head of Epicurus with the quote on the opposite side: "Sic fac omnia tamquam spectet Epicurus", or 'Do all things as if Epicurus were watching!')

My copies of the 3 volumes of Aline and Valcour arrived at the same time, likely due to covid-19 interrupting Amazon's schedule.

It opens up with a line from Lucretius, in Book 3

"Just as children in the night tremble & fear everything,
so we in the light sometimes fear
what is no more to be feared than the things
children shudder at in the dark
and imagine will come true. This terror,
this darkness of the mind's eye must be scattered,
not by the rays of the sun & glistening shafts of daylight,
but by a dispassionate view of the inner laws of Nature."

A while ago A_Gardner and I had the idea of writing out a short and thorough guidebook for Epicureans and non-Epicureans to learn from, and after much slugging I finally made some progress and before the heavy writing actually begins, I'd like to get a second opinion on the outline to see if whats covered provides a good summation while being prepared in an efficient order that makes sense for the reader (ie physics before ethics, since ethics is based off of physics).

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1S8…dit?usp=sharing

Upon completion it will be free to download and share as multiple formats of file types.

Edit: This is just an outline of what's to come, and we're hoping to write about 100-175 pages to keep it short (maybe even lower), we're completely open to criticism so feel free to voice and objection or concern or your own suggestion.

I've been fine, work has been slow because of the virus but I've been lurking here each day and reading a ton of material and teaching others about Epicurus in various group chats and DMs online.

Marquis de Sade; "Aline and Valcour"; 1793.

Supposedly the island paradise of Tamoé is heavily inspired and based off of Lucretius. Worth noting its not overtly explicit like much of his work. 4th volume has yet to be translated as opposed to the first 3 volumess translated for the first time in 2019.

Welcome Dernga

If I'm not mistaken, they, meaning the words katastematic and kinetic show up in fragmentary form penned by Epicurus, the first compiled source I can think of is Epicurea (1887) http://www.attalus.org/translate/epicurus.html

However, the concept definitely has some grounding, as "static pleasures" are given their own paragraph in Laertius. We can reason that this is merely a departure from the Cyrenaic tradition and conception of pleasure and the writing serves to distinct the two philosophies, not to encapsulate and reduce all of Epicurus' ideas of pleasure dyanamics (moving vs static).

Whether or not the K / K Issue is strictly contemporary for us or not, I'm not sure of, but it definitely seems that way as throughout history Epicurus was more or less seen as the "lord of vice" or "master of pleasures" which leads to the modern definition of "Epicurean" or "Epicurious" and its relation to being a gourmand of culinary arts, as opposed to the bread and water depiction.

One critique or reservation that I've noticed fairly consistently, both an attack on Hedonism in general and also towards Epicurean(ism) Philosophy, are the positions we take on morality. This often shows up phrased as such: "How do I know if I'm doing the right thing?" or "Are actions taken in the name of pleasure always good?", the latter used to strawman pleasure ethics as a whole, when extrapolated to say such things as “Well a murderer takes pleasure in killing” and so on.

But it got me thinking, since we stress that there is no proper and objective *good* in the sense of morals (Religiously sanctioned, etc.), ideals/forms (Platonic), behaviors or mannerisms (asceticism/stoic indifference), or even certain instances like Kant's Categorical Imperatives, the list goes on, while also maintaining that pleasure is one such case of these "goods" or the sole or highest “good”. We also know that attempting to distinguish certain hierarchies or elevations of pleasure results in a circular measuring game of sophistry as established in Plato's Philebus, hence why we focus solely on pleasure and not katastematic pleasure over kinetic or vice versa (what I call the bread & water fallacy).

So when it comes to pleasure and the desires of people and their conquest in fulfilling that goal, where does morality fit? Clearly we wouldn't agree with the Charvakan maxim "Let a man feed on ghee even if he runs into debt" as such an action would be far from prudent, and has financial liabilities that are potentially very painful and pleasure-inhibiting. Nor would we endorse La Mettrie eating himself to death or the directly-inspired Marquis de Sade torturing his maids despite these actions done in the name of pleasure.

Sure we may always distance ourselves and say "No true Epicurean would engage in such dangerous pleasures!" and point to PD's 1, 17, 26, 29, 30 & VS 1, 20, 69, 70, 71 as well as many sections of L to M, namely the line:


"And since pleasure is the first good and natural to us, for this very reason we do not choose every pleasure, but sometimes we pass over many pleasures, when greater discomfort accrues to us as the result of them: and similarly we think many pains better than pleasures, since a greater pleasure comes to us when we have endured pains for a long time." (Bailey, 41st line from bottom)

Whether or not we choose to label Epicurean Philosophy as hedonistic is another debate, but what is shared between Epicureans and Hedonists/Libertines/Utilitarian Ethics is both; our recognition of pleasure as *good* and choosing actions that result in pleasure for ourselves and sometimes our close ones if it benefits us. This is ultimately where the title of the thread becomes relevant as no matter what those who critique us & pleasure will group us in with other pleasure seekers or isolate us and then choose to attack, with issues of morality being a formidable argument according to the attacker's perception.

But what does everyone here think? How exactly do we hold each other accountable, including pleasure seekers who wouldn’t label themselves Epicurean and aren’t familiar with our concepts of frankness and justice, but otherwise share many of our values?

I have another paragraph written on this topic about consequentialist thinking and how it can transform itself into an ethical system for hedonists and Epicureans, that disregards morality as it’s conventionally recognized and utilized, but I’d like to hear some thoughts on this before I delve into it any further. I also recognize that this isn't really an "Epicurean" topic, but I feel that it's answers do encompass Epicurean Philosophy.

I received this volume of Will Durant's series yesterday from a coworker who majored in Philosophy (Nietzche/Marx/Schopenhauer), saying that I would like it, and almost immediately I flipped to the section that covered Epicurus. Well, it turns out that this is perhaps one of the worst biographies and summaries of the philosophy that I've read. I don't have time today to critique every single bit: but he gets his timeline wrong with Metrodorus, he mistakes Epicurus instead of Metrodorus as the husband/lover of Leontion, he calls Mys Epicurus' favorite pupil (it was Metrodorus), Epicurus did not live in "Stoic simplicity!" or eat only bread and water, as well as living only in "prudent privacy" when Durant later quotes Laertius saying Epicurus had many friends.

I'm not sure where Durant got his information about the people of Lampsacus raising him a fund as it's not cited, The Garden was not in the outskirts of Athens, it was between the Academy and later, the Stoa. It only later helps its case when Durant makes sure to mention the Epicurean Gods and praises Lucretius, not for the physics but for being a complete, extant source that outlines the philosophy, however, in the third from last paragraph Durant breaks form and explains his own problems with EP.


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Though he described for many ages the theorist who loses his life in the cobwebs of speculation, Polybius was wrong in supposing that moral problems had lost their lure for the Greek mind. It was precisely the ethical strain that in this period replaced the physical and the metaphysical as the dominant note in philosophy. Political problems were indeed in abeyance, for freedom of speech was harassed by the presence or memory of royal garrisons, and national liberty was implicitly understood to depend upon quiescence. The glory of the Athenian state had departed, and philosophy had to face what to Greece was an unprecedented divorce between politics and ethics. It had to find a way of life at once forgivable to philosophy and compatible with political impotence. Therefore it conceived its problem no longer as one of building a just state, but as that of forming the selfcontained and contented individual.

The ethical development now took two opposite directions. One followed the lead of Heracleitus, Socrates, Antisthenes, and Diogenes, and expanded the Cynic into the Stoic philosophy; the other stemmed from Democritus, leaned heavily on Aristippus, and drew out the Cyrenaic into the Epicurean creed. Both of these philosophical compensations for religious and political decay came from Asia: Stoicism from Semitic pantheism, fatalism, and resignation; Epicureanism from the pleasure-loving Greeks of the Asiatic coast.

Epicurus was born at Samos in 341. At twelve he fell in love with philosophy; at nineteen he went to Athens and spent a year at the Academy. Like Francis Bacon he preferred Democritus to Plato and Aristotle, and took from him many bricks for his own construction. From Aristippus he learned the wisdom of pleasure, and from Socrates the pleasure of wisdom; from Pyrrho he took the doctrine of tranquillity, and a ringing word for it—ataraxia. He must have watched with interest the career of his contemporary Theodoras of Cyrene, who preached an unmoralistic atheism so openly in Athens that the Assembly indicted him for impiety—a lesson that Epicurus did not forget. Then he returned to Asia and lectured on philosophy at Colophon, Mytilene, and Lampsacus. The Lampsacenes were so impressed with his ideas and his character that they felt qualms of selfishness in keeping him in so remote a city; they raised a fund of eighty minas ($4000), bought a house and garden on the outskirts of Athens, and presented it to Epicurus as his school and his home. In 306, aged thirty-five, Epicurus took up his residence there, and taught to the Athenians a philosophy that was Epicurean in name only. It was a sign of the growing freedom of women that he welcomed them to his lectures, even into the little community that lived about him. He made no distinctions of station or race; he accepted courtesans as well as matrons, slaves as well as freemen; his favorite pupil was his own slave, Mysis. The courtesan Leontium became his mistress as well as his pupil, and found him as jealous a mate as if he had secured her by due process of law. Under his influence she had one child and wrote several books, whose purity of style did not interfere with her morals.

For the rest Epicurus lived in Stoic simplicity and prudent privacy. His motto was lathe biosas—“live unobtrusively.” He took part dutifully in the religious ritual of the city, but kept his hands clear of politics, and his spirit free from the affairs of the world. He was content with water and a little wine, bread and a little cheese. His rivals and enemies charged that he gorged himself when he could, and became abstemious only when overeating had ruined his digestion. “But those who speak thus are all wrong,” Diogenes Laertius assures us; and he adds: “There are many witnesses of the unsurpassable kindness of the man to everybody—both his own country, which honored him with statues, and his friends, who were so numerous that they could not be contained in whole cities.” He was devoted to his parents, generous to his brothers, and gentle to his servants, who joined with him in philosophical studies. His pupils looked upon him, says Seneca, as a god among men; and after his death their motto was: “Live as though the eye of Epicurus were upon thee.”

Between his lessons and his loves he wrote three hundred books. The ashes of Herculaneum preserved for us some fragments of his central work, On Nature; Diogenes Laertius, the Plutarch of philosophy, handed down three of his letters, and late discoveries have added a few more. Above all, Lucredus enshrined the thought of Epicurus in the greatest of philosophical poems.

Perhaps already conscious that Alexander’s conquest was letting loose upon Greece a hundred mystic cults from the East, Epicurus begins with the arresting proposition that the aim of philosophy is to free men from fear—more than anything else, from the fear of gods. He dislikes religion because, he thinks, it thrives on ignorance, promotes it, and darkens life with the terror of celestial spies, relentless furies, and endless punishments. The gods exist, says Epicurus, and enjoy, in some far-off space among the stars, a serene and deathless life; but they are too sensible to bother with the affairs of so infinitesimal a species as mankind. The world is not designed, nor is it guided, by them; how could such divine Epicureans have created so middling a universe, so confused a scene of order and disorder, of beauty and suffering? If this disappoints you, Epicurus adds, console yourself with the thought that the gods are too remote to do you any more harm than good. They cannot watch you, they cannot judge you, they cannot plunge you into hell. As for evil gods, or demons, they are the unhappy fantasies of our dreams.

Having rejected religion, Epicurus goes on to reject metaphysics. We can know nothing of the suprasensual world; reason must confine itself to the experience of the senses, and must accept these as the final test of truth. All the problems that Locke and Leibnitz were to debate two thousand years later are here settled with one sentence: if knowledge does not come from the senses, where else can it come from? And if the senses are not the ultimate arbiter of fact, how can we find such a criterion in reason, whose data must be taken from the senses?

Nevertheless the senses give us no certain knowledge of the external world; they catch not the objective thing itself, but only the tiny atoms thrown off by every part of its surface, and leaving upon our senses little replicas of its nature and form. If, therefore, we must have a theory of the world (and really it is not altogether necessary), we had better accept Democritus’ view that nothing exists, or can be known to us, or can even be imagined by us, except bodies and space; and that all bodies are composed of indivisible and unchangeable atoms. These atoms have no color, temperature, sound, taste, or smell; such qualities are created by the corpuscular radiations of objects upon our sense organs. But the atoms do differ in size, weight, and form; for only by this supposition can we account for the infinite variety of things. Epicurus would like to explain the operation of the atoms on purely mechanical principles; but as he is interested in ethics far more than in cosmology, and is anxious to preserve free will as the source of moral responsibility and the prop of personality, he abandons Democritus in mid-air, and supposes a kind of spontaneity in the atoms: they swerve a bit from the perpendicular as they fall through space, and so enter into the combinations that make the four elements, and through them the diversity of the objective scene. There are innumerable worlds, but it is unwise to interest ourselves in them. We may assume that the sun and the moon are about as large as they appear to be, and then we can give our time to the study of man.

Man is a completely natural product. Life probably began by spontaneous generation, and progressed without design through the natural selection of the fittest forms. Mind is only another kind of matter. The soul is a delicate material substance diffused throughout the body. It can feel or act only by means of the body, and dies with the body’s death. Despite all this we must accept the testimony of our immediate consciousness that the will is free; else we should be meaningless puppets on the stage of life. It is better to be a slave to the gods of the people than to the Fate of the philosophers.

The real function of philosophy, however, is not to explain the world, since the part can never explain the whole, but to guide us in our quest of happiness. “That which we have in view is not a set of systems and vain opinions, but much rather a life exempt from every kind of disquietude.” Over the entrance to the garden of Epicurus was the inviting legend: “Guest, thou shalt be happy here, for here happiness is esteemed the highest good.” Virtue, in this philosophy, is not an end in itself, it is only an indispensable means to a happy life. “It is not possible to live pleasantly without living prudently, honorably, and justly; nor to live prudently, honorably, and justly without living pleasantly.” The only certain propositions in philosophy are that pleasure is good, and that pain is bad. Sensual pleasures are in themselves legitimate, and wisdom will find some room for them; since, however, they may have evil effects, they need such discriminating pursuit as only intelligence can give.

When, therefore, we say that pleasure is the chief good we are not speaking of the pleasures of the debauched man, or those that lie in sensual enjoyment. . . but we mean the freedom of the body from pain, and of the soul from disturbance. For it is not continued drinkings and revels, or the enjoyment of female society, or feasts of fish or other expensive foods, that make life pleasant, but such sober contemplation as examines the reasons for choice and avoidance, and puts to flight the vain opinions from which arises most of the confusion that troubles the soul.

In the end, then, understanding is not only the highest virtue, it is also the highest happiness, for it avails more than any other faculty in us to avoid pain and grief. Wisdom is the only liberator: it frees us from bondage to the passions, from fear of the gods, and from dread of death; it teaches us how to bear misfortune, and how to derive a deep and lasting pleasure from the simple goods of life and the quiet pleasures of the mind. Death is not so frightful when we view it intelligently; the suffering it involves may be briefer and slighter than that which we have borne time and again during our lives; it is our foolish fancies of what death may bring that lend to it so much of its terror. And consider how little is needed to a wise contentfresh air, the cheapest foods, a modest shelter, a bed, a few books, and a friend. “Everything natural is easily procured, and only the useless is costly.” We should not fret our lives out in realizing every desire that comes into our heads: “Desires may be ignored when our failure to accomplish them will not really cause us pain.” Even love, marriage, and parentage are unnecessary; they bring us fitful pleasures, but perennial grief. To accustom ourselves to plain living and simple ways is an almost certain road to health. The wise man does not burn with ambition or lust for fame; he does not envy the good fortune of his enemies, nor even of his friends; he avoids the fevered competition of the city and the turmoil of political strife; he seeks the calm of the countryside, and finds the surest and deepest happiness in tranquillity of body and mind. Because he controls his appetites, lives without pretense, and puts aside all fears, the natural “sweetness of life” (hedone) rewards him with the greatest of all goods, which is peace.

This is a likably honest creed. It is encouraging to find a philosopher who is not afraid of pleasure, and a logician who has a good word to say for the senses. There is no subtlety here, and no warm passion for understanding; on the contrary Epicureanism, despite its transmission of the atomic theory, marks a reaction from the brave curiosity that had created Greek science and philosophy. The profoundest defect of the system is its negativity: it thinks of pleasure as freedom from pain, and of wisdom as an escape from the hazards and fullness of life; it provides an excellent design for bachelorhood, but hardly for a society. Epicurus respected the state as a necessary evil, under whose protection he might live unmolested in his garden, but he appears to have cared little about national independence; indeed, his school seems to have preferred monarchy to democracy, as less inclined to persecute heresy—an arresting inversion of modern beliefs. Epicurus was ready to accept any government that offered no hindrance to the unobtrusive pursuit of wisdom and companionship. He dedicated to friendship the devotion that earlier generations had given to the state. “Of all the things that wisdom provides for the happiness of the whole life, by far the most important is friendship.” The friendships of the Epicureans were proverbial for their permanence; and the letters of the master abound in expressions of ardent affection. His disciples returned this feeling with Greek intensity. Young Colotes, on first hearing Epicurus speak, fell on his knees, wept, and hailed him as a god.

For thirty-six years Epicurus taught in his garden, preferring a school to a family. In the year 270 he was brought down with the stone. He bore the pains stoically, and on his deathbed found time to think of his friends. “I write to you on this happy day which is the last of my life. The obstruction of my bladder, and the internal pains, have reached the extreme point, but there is marshaled against them the delight of my mind in thinking over our talks together. Take care of Metrodorus’ children in a way worthy of your lifelong devotion to me and to philosophy.” He willed his property to the school, hoping “that all those who study philosophy may never be in want. . . so far as our power to prevent it may extend.”

He left behind him a long succession of disciples, so loyal to his memory that for centuries they refused to change a word of his teaching. His most famous pupil, Metrodorus of Lampsacus, had already shocked or amused Greece by reducing Epicureanism to the proposition that “all good things have reference to the belly”—meaning, perhaps, that all pleasure is physiological, and ultimately visceral. Chrysippus countered by calling the Gastrology of Archestratus “the metropolis of the Epicurean philosophy.” Popularly misunderstood, Epicureanism was publicly denounced and privately accepted in wide circles throughout Hellas. So many Hellenizing Jews adopted it that Apiköros was used by the rabbis as a synonym for apostate. In 173 or 155 two Epicurean philosophers were expelled from Rome on the ground that they were corrupting youth. A century later Cicero asked, “Why are there so many followers of Epicurus?” and Lucretius composed the fullest and finest extant exposition of the Epicurean system. The school had professed adherents until the reign of Constantine, some of them, by their lives, degrading the name of the master to mean “epicure,” others faithfully teaching the simple maxims into which he had once condensed his philosophy: “The gods are not to be feared; death cannot be felt; the good can be won; all that we dread can be conquered.”

Just updating the Discord invite links and cleaning out the rest, since the old one on here, Twitter, FB, is inactive after I deleted the redundant channel it was linked to.

https://discord.gg/96RJtYj

Quote from A_Gardner

I'll start off slowly at first, but we can link these pieces of content back to both these forums and your Discord server, if you're comfortable with that, as well as the various sites and projects of other members on here.

Sounds good

I have to use Instagram for work and I neglect my personal account, but Id be happy to help with any posts or images you would need, as well as telling others about it.

On the topic of Wilson, the book store I work at has a sales rep from Basic Books, the publisher of "How to be an Epicurean", so if we decide that trying to reach Wilson is a good idea, all it would take is to contact that sales rep and then talk to Wilson's publicist and then to Wilson herself.

Of course this is all just up in the air, but the possibility of contacting her is not.

This ties into my thread about Cavalante di Cavalcanti and Farinata Degli Uberti, who were the Epicurean influences that introduced the ideas to Dante.

Dante had placed Epicurus and his followers in the sixth circle of hell, in the fiery city of Dis. The reason for this was because the Epicureans "denied the immortality of the soul" and thus were condemned to live inside burning coffins for eternity. Farinata Degli Uberti is also spotted alongside Epicurus.

It's worth adding his Discourses, Book 3 and either Chapter 5 or 7, in which Epictetus engages in a dialogue against an Epicurean "administrator" (other translations use magistrate or governor) of the free cities.

Maybe the ideas and teachings of Aclepiades of Bithynia (c. 124/140 BCE - 40 BCE) can help us in this regard? It's not known exactly how much he was inspired or deviated from Epicurean and Democritean theory, however, it's also said that he was very acquainted with philosophy. But it's very clear that he rejected humorism and other leading theories from his time.

Quote

Asclepiades began by vilifying the principles and practices of his predecessors, and by asserting that he had discovered a more effective method of treating diseases than had been before known to the world. He decried the efforts of those who sought to investigate the structure of the body, or to watch the phenomena of disease, and he is said to have directed his attacks particularly against the writings of Hippocrates.

Discarding the humoral doctrine of Hippocrates, Asclepiades attempted to build a new theory of disease, and founded his medical practice on a modification of the atomic or corpuscular theory, according to which disease results from an irregular or inharmonious motion of the corpuscles of the body.^[6] His ideas were likely partly derived from the atomic theories of Democritus and Epicurus. All morbid action was reduced to the obstruction of pores and irregular distribution of atoms. Asclepiades arranged diseases into two great classes of Acute and Chronic.^[11] Acute diseases were caused essentially by a constriction of the pores, or an obstruction of them by an excess of atoms; the Chronic were caused by a relaxation of the pores or a deficiency of atoms. Asclepiades thought that other mild disease were caused by a disruption in bodily fluids and pneuma. He separated illnesses into three separate categories: status strictus (too tightly held), status laxus (too loosely held), and status mixtus (a little of each). He also believed that there were no critical days of diseases, meaning that illnesses do not end at a definite time.

Asclepiades' remedies were, therefore, directed to the restoration of harmony. He trusted much to changes of diet, massages, bathing and exercise, although he did employ emetics and bleeding.^[6] A part of the great popularity which he enjoyed depended upon his prescribing the liberal use of wine to his patients,^[12] and upon his attending to their every need, and indulging their inclinations. He would treat all his patients fairly and did not discriminate based upon gender or mental illness. He believed treating his patients kindly and amicably was essential to being a good physician. Cito tuto jucunde (meaning to treat his patients "swiftly, safely, and sweetly") was a motto that he followed.^[13] This contrasted with the behaviour of other physicians who practised during his life time who it was said had a tendency to be uncaring and have a lack of sympathy towards their patients.

Metrodorus and Epicurus may have written against the ritualistic approach to disease and illness as was common in their days. Bear in mind that Epicurus' mother was something of a shaman or "witch doctor" who would cite prayers and incantations with charms. The only possibility I see (from current surviving sources) is both a critique of humorism and the magical/religious approaches to medicine not focused on the physical body. Whether or not the two built their own theory of medicine I can't say, but its clear that they would've been against healing rituals and charms that kept away disease.

I'm at work so I can't quite take the time to inspect every single detail, but I'd start with the clothing, to determine if its a chiton or toga, or any variation of the former. After that, it's onto the sandals, from there its discernible that its either a Greek or Roman figure, and that should narrow it down.

My bets for Roman are: Zeno of Sidon or Philodemus

For Greek: Hermarchus or Polyenus, if not, then Metrodorus based off of the figure alone.

Here's a better close-up of its face, with detail.