This volume contains the English translation of Felix Kaufmann's (1895-1945) main work Methodenlehre der Sozialwissenschaften (1936). In this book, Kaufmann develops a general theory of knowledge of the social sciences in his role as a cross-border commuter between Husserl's phenomenology, Kelsen's pure theory of law and the logical positivism of the Vienna Circle. This multilayered inquiry connects the value-oriented reflections of a general philosophy of science with the specificity of the methods and theories of the social sciences, as opposed to (...) abstract natural science and psychology. The core focus of the study is the attempt to elucidate how and under what conditions scientific knowledge about social facts, empirically justified and theoretically embedded, can be obtained. The empirical basis of knowledge within the social sciences forms a phenomenological concept of experience. According to Kaufmann, this concept of experience exhibits a complex structure. Within the meaning-interpretation of human action as the core of knowledge in the social sciences, this structure reaches out across the isolated act of verification toward the synthesis of external and internal experiences. The book opens with a detailed and useful introduction by Ingeborg K. Helling, which introduces the historical and theoretical background of Kaufmann's study and specifically illuminates his relation to Alfred Schütz and John Dewey. Finally, it contains interviews with and letters to members of his family, colleagues and students. (shrink)

In his “Der sinnhafte Aufbau der sozialen Welt” Alfred Schutz refers frequently and mostly positively to the author Fritz Sander. In contrast to other members of the Viennese social science milieus in interwar Vienna, Sander has been neglected in the abundant literature on Schutz. Following Henrich’s Konstellationsforschung approach, Schutz and Sander are placed in the setting of interwar Viennese social science. Explicit references to Sander made by Schutz will be described, similarities and differences in their treatments of Max Weber’s concepts (...) of social action and subjective meaning will be examined, and their respective views of a phenomenological grounding of social science will be discussed. (shrink)

Nanoparticles have multifaceted advantages in drug administration as vaccine delivery and hence hold promises for improving protection of farmed fish against diseases caused by pathogens. However, there are concerns that the benefits associated with distribution of nanoparticles may also be accompanied with risks to the environment and health. The complexity of the natural and social systems involved implies that the information acquired in quantified risk assessments may be inadequate for evidence-based decisions. One controversial strategy for dealing with this kind of (...) uncertainty is the precautionary principle. A few years ago, an UNESCO expert group suggested a new approach for implementation of the principle. Here we compare the UNESCO principle with earlier versions and explore the advantages and disadvantages by employing the UNESCO version to the use of PLGA nanoparticles for delivery of vaccines in aquaculture. Finally, we discuss whether a combined scientific and ethical analysis that involves the concept of responsibility will enable approaches that can provide a supplement to the precautionary principle as basis for decision-making in areas of scientific uncertainty, such as the application of nanoparticles in the vaccination of farmed fish. (shrink)

t. 1. Hē kyriarchia tou Aristotelismou -- t. 2. Hē epikratēsē tēs neōterikēs philosophias.

Questioning gender is about taking an active, critical role in the technological design of our daily behaviour. It is a deconstruction of the oppositions that exist in the discourses of Ambient Intelligence designers, the ICT industry and computer scientists. What underlies the assumption that Ambient Intelligence will, by disappearing into our environment, bring humans both an easy and entertaining life? The gender perspective can uncover power relations within the promotion and realisation of Ambient Intelligence that satisfy an obvious wish for (...) a technological heaven. The deconstruction of the promise of progress and a better life reveals what is overvalued, what is undervalued and what is ignored. This paper is a deconstruction of the view, currently prevalent in the discourses of Ambient Intelligence; a view of humans and the way they live. A view that will influence the way women and men will be allowed to construct their lives. (shrink)

In folk songs, which can be described as melodies reflecting the feelings and thoughts of the people, it is possible to find all kinds of events experienced by the person or society, all kinds of emotions that can be felt, in other words, the joy, sadness, life and beliefs of individuals and/or society, in short, all elements of life. Folk songs are one of the most important sources in which society's perception of religion, religious life, and how religion is theoretically (...) or practically embodied in daily life can be determined. With this study, it is aimed to determine the reflections of the subject of “religion (Islam)” in the folk songs of Âşık Veysel, (the existence of the subject of religion, how it takes place theoretically and practically), and to classify and evaluate the materials found. Before moving on to the main topic in the study, brief and concise information was given about Âşık Veysel and his folk songs/poems. In the main part of the study, the religious elements contained in the lyrics of Âşık Veysel's compositions/adaptations and lyrics in a total of thirty-seven pieces of broken air style procedural (rhythmic) works belonging to him were examined in the form of substances. The works belonging to him that he sang as poems without melody, the works that were in a unmetered folk song style (uzun hava, rhythmless) and free rhythm, and the works whose lyrics belonged to other bards/poets and were performed by Âşık Veysel were not subjected to examination. This limitation of the scope of the study is due to the fact that Veysel's folk songs are more widespread, visible and listened to, as well as the fact that the analysis of all his works exceeds the volume of the article. Based on the saying “what is inside the cube seeps out of it”, a number of results have been achieved as a result of studying the religious elements found in the lyrics of the songs composed and sung by Âşık Veysel in the metered folk song style(kırık hava, rhythmic) style. Many religious and mystical topics such as Allah, prophets, holy books, worldly life, the hereafter, heaven, hell, death, mourning, fate, spiritual/luminous beings, sacrifice, prayer, curse, martyrdom, veteran, sects, loyalty and dhikr have been directly or indirectly included in folk songs, which are usually seen to be sung/written in an admonitory style. Prayer, zakat, fasting, hajj, etc. practical issues have not been included at all. (shrink)

G.E.M. Anscombe famously remarked that an adequate philosophy of psychology was needed before we could do ethics. Fifty years have passed, and we should now ask what significance our best theories of the psychology of agency have for moral philosophy. My focus is on non-moral conceptions of autonomy and self-governance that emphasize the limits of deliberation -- the way in which one's cares render certain options unthinkable, one's intentions and policies filter out what is inconsistent with them, and one's resolutions (...) function to block further reflection. I argue that we can expect this deliberative "silencing" to lead to moral failures that occur because the morally correct option was filtered out of the agent's deliberation. I think it follows from these conceptions of self-governance that we should be considered culpable for unwitting acts and omissions, even if they express no ill will, moral indifference, or blameworthy evaluative judgments. The question is whether this consequence is acceptable. Either way, the potential tradeoff between self-governance and moral attentiveness is a source of doubt about recent attempts to ground the normativity of rationality in our concern for self-governance. (shrink)

The question of evil—its origins, its justification, its solution—has plagued humankind from the beginning. Every generation raises the question and struggles with the responses it is given. Questions about the nature of evil and how it is reconciled with the truth claims of Christianity are unavoidable; we need to be prepared to respond to such questions with great clarity and good faith. God and Evil compiles the best thinking on all angles on the question of evil, from some of the (...) finest scholars in religion, philosophy and apologetics, including Gregory E. Ganssle and Yena Lee Bruce Little Garry DeWeese R. Douglas Geivett James Spiegel Jill Graper Hernandez Win Corduan David Beck With additional chapters addressing "issues in dialogue" such as hell and human origins, and a now-famous debate between evangelical philosopher William Lane Craig and atheist philosopher Michael Tooley, God and Evil provides critical engagement with recent arguments against faith and offers grounds for renewed confidence in the God who is "acquainted with grief.". (shrink)

This book offers a historical introduction to fundamental questions in the philosophy of religion. It is divided into twenty-five chapters. The first chapter discusses the nature of piety drawing on Plato's Euthyphro. The next three chapters discuss the nature of evil, free will, foreknowledge, and sin in the context of Augustine's On Free Choice of Will. Chapter Five discusses Anslem's "ontological" argument for the existence of God. Chapter Six explores Ibn Sina's account of the nature of the soul and immortality. (...) The next two chapters explore the foundations of religious belief and mysticism in the company of al-Ghazali's The Rescuer from Error. Chapters nine through eleven discuss Aquinas's arguments for the existence of God as well as his account of God's impersonal and personal attributes. The twelfth chapter explores Marguerite Porete's account of mystical ascent as well as the doctrines of heaven and hell. Chapter Thirteen discusses Pascal's pragmatic argument for belief in the existence of God. Chapters Fourteen through Sixteen discuss Spinoza's understanding of God, our relationship to God, and the foundations of morality. Chapters Seventeen through Nineteen explore the argument from design, the existence of God, deism, and the problem of evil. Chapter Twenty investigates Mary Shepherd's defense of belief in miracles, while Chapter Twenty-One explores Mill's views on the utility of religion. Finally, chapters Twenty-Three through Twenty-Five explore the origins of modern morality and the relationship between religion and nihilism in the company of Nietzsche's On the Genealogy of Morality. (shrink)

Van Fraassen believes our current best theories enable us to make accurate predictions because they have been subjected to a selection process similar to natural selection. His explanation for the predictive success of our best theories has been subjected to extensive criticism from realists. I aim to clarify the nature of van Fraassen’s selectionist explanation for the success of science. Contrary to what the critics claim, the selectionist can explain why it is that we have successful theories, as well as (...) why it is reasonable to expect past successful theories to be successful in the future. I also argue that the plausibility of the realists’ explanation rests on an inaccurate understanding of the nature of predictive success . The predictive success of our best theories is a relative success. (shrink)

Rejectionists argue that collective belief ascriptions are best understood as instances of collective acceptance rather than belief. Margaret Gilbert objects to rejectionist accounts of collective belief statements. She argues that rejectionists rely on a questionable methodology when they inquire into the nature of collective belief ascriptions, and make an erroneous inference when they are led to believe that collectives do not really have beliefs. Consequently, Gilbert claims that collective belief statements are best understood as instances of belief. I critically examine (...) Gilbert’s criticisms of rejectionism. I argue that rejectionism is still a viable account of collective belief ascriptions. I also argue that Gilbert’s most powerful criticism provides important insight into what really stands between her and the rejectionists. Gilbert and the rejectionists do not yet agree about what background assumptions can be made in developing an account of collective belief ascriptions. (shrink)

The hereafter, one of the main pillars of Islam, has been discussed by both theologians and Ṣūfīs from various angles and interpreted in many different ways. Although there is consensus on the main subjects, there are a lot of controversies in details. One of the Ṣūfīs who authored on diverse problems over the hereafter is ʿAlāʾ al-Dawla al-Simnānī (d. 736/1336). He was a Kubrawī shaykh during the Īlkhānid era. He inclined towards the Ṣūfī path after serving the Buddhist ruler Arghun (...) (r. 1284-1291) for ten years, thanks to a spiritual experience he had. He met with Nūr al-dīn ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Isfarāyīnī (d. 717/1317), a Kubrawī shaykh based in Baghdad, and became a disciple of him, granted ijāza (a certificate of authority) from him. Upon his shaykh’s order, he turned back to his hometown and spent his life until his death, in his Ṣūfī lodge raising disciples and writing works. He had contributed greatly both to his own order and to the literature of Ṣūfism with his disciples and written works. As regards to the hereafter, his opinions on the reality of this world and its position against the next, death, the doomsday and its kinds, the existence of the paradise and the hell today and their present location are remarkable. In this article, his views over those problems are discussed in the context of his understanding of mystical training.Summary: ʿAlāʾ al-Dawla al-Simnānī (d. 736/1336) lived between the second half of the seventh century (h.) and the first half of the eighth century, in today’s Iran, during reign of the Īlkhānid’s. Thanks to the connection of his family to the Īlkhānid court, his father and uncle’s administrative positions at the court and his will and efforts, he started to serve Arghun (r. 1284-1291) around the age of fifteen and gained his personal intimacy. After serving him for ten years, he experienced a spiritual transformation and inclined towards a mystical life. He left Arghun for his hometown Simnān, on the pretext of his disease that courtier doctors could not treated, but under the condition that he would turn back after he recovered from the disease. He got better just after a while but did not return. He arrived Simnān at the beginning of a holy month of Ramadan, took off his formal clothes and began to mystical training himself based on Abū Ṭālib al-Makkī’s Qūt al-qulūb. After a while, he met with one of the disciples of Nūr al-dīn ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Isfarāyīnī (d. 717/1317) and wondered about him. Then left Simnān for Baghdad with the intention of visiting him. However, Arghun was informed about this and prevented him from going to Baghdad, withholding him for some time. After a while, Simnānī escaped from Arghun and returned to Simnān and wrote a letter to al-Isfarāyīnī on this incident. In response, al-Isfarāyīnī said that he does not need to visit Baghdad, al-Isfarāyīnī would be with him spiritually and ordered him to start his training. Simnānī kept his connection alive with his shaykh during this period via letters and spiritual meetings but he could not meet with him face to face. Afterwards, he could meet him twice and granted ijāza from him.After that, upon his shaykh’s order, he turned back to Simnān and engaged with disciples’ mystical trainings and authoring books. He gained an eminent position in both his order and history of the Ṣūfism, upbringing too many disciples and writing around ninety works. His importance in the Kubraviyya rooted firstly in the fact that the extant sub-branches of the order have him in their silsila (spiritual genealogy). In this regard Simnānī is a key actor within his order. Besides, it is significant that he had great impact on the founders of two branches of the Kubraviyya, i.e. Sayyid ʿAlī Hamadānī (d. 786/1385) and Muhammad Nurbakhsh (d. 869/1464) that indicating his influence among the order itself. When examined from the angel of the history of the Ṣūfism, the most apparent and distinctive point regarding Simnānī is his criticism against Ibn ʿArabī (d. 637/1240) on the problem of being. Notwithstanding, his supreme contribution to the Ṣūfism is his doctrine of latāif, which particularly influenced Pārsā (d. 822/1240), a leading disciple of the founder of the Naqshbandiyya. Likewise his mystical experiences and thoughts on rijāl al-ghāib had also influenced subsequent Ṣūfīs. His thoughts on the problem of khawātir, which is crucial component of Kubravī path, and detailed information given in his books regarding the lights (anwār) and the truth of nūr as well as his explanations about the situations experienced during the manifestation of God can be listed among his contributions to the history of the Ṣūfism.Simnānī who wrote on various problems of Ṣūfism, dealt with the problem of the Hereafter in the context of his understanding of initiation. For the world cannot be disunited from the Hereafter, as his understanding of the Hereafter is examined, his view of the world is studied as well. With reference to the presupposition that there are three distinct dimensions of the world, Simnānī says that man’s relationship with the world should be differentiated according to following three aspects: the world’s being a plantation for the hereafter, the world’s being a place that should be abandoned and the world does not have a reality. According to him the hereafter is a continuous moment, whereas the worldly life is bound by the past and the future. Since the past and the future do not have a real being, hence the world as well does not have real being. Simnānī embraces the death and the Doomsday in an intertwined fashion in the context of his own understanding of mystical training. Approvingly the consensus of the Ṣūfis, he divides the death into two: necessary and voluntary. And he divides the Doomsday into three: big, middle and small. According to this, the wayfarer who has weakened his soul’s evil attributes via the voluntary death observes the situations of the small doomsday. Thereby the wayfarer who observed everything that is depicted in the Quran that will be experienced after the necessary death, gains time to take necessary precautions before the necessary death, which is irremediable. Another issue that Simnānī raises regarding the Doomsday is the sorts of the Doomsday. Based on the different names of the Doomsday, he says that there are different doomsdays each of which is related with one of the latāif situated among human faculties. Ultimately salvation from those doomsdays is possible with a different good deed. Another point that Simnānī comes up with is the problem of existence of the paradise and the hell today. He thinks that the paradise and the hell both exist today, with reference to his own kashf. He relates this narrating the verses and the traditions, which support his view. Besides, he accepts that there are two paradises and hells, one is inside the human nature and the other is out there. According to Simnānī, entering the outer paradise without observing one’s inner paradise is nonsense. This is possible only through a spiritual journey from one’s external being into his/her internal being. In the end, this can only be accomplished via the voluntary death. (shrink)

Es sei an dieser Stelle Frau Maria Scheler für die von ihr er­ laubten Einblicke in den Nachlass ihres Mannes gedankt, ins­ besondere für die langen und eingehenden Gespräche, die mir für die Erkenntnis der wahren Intentionen Max Schelers unerlässlich gewesen sind. Ich danke nochmals Herrn Professor Dr. Martin Heidegger für die wertvollen Hinsweise bezüglich Max Schelers Aufnahme von Sein und Zeit. Für einige Berichtigungen in der deutschen Ausdrucksweise, die dem Verfasser durch seine langjährige Tätigkeit in Amerika einerseits, und durch (...) den deutschen Sprachgebrauch Max Schelers und Martin Heideggers andererseits, erschwert wurde, danke ich Herrn Professor Dr. Wilhelm Dupre, De Paul University, Chicago, und Frau Dr. Ingeborg Schüssler von der Universität Köln. Für einige technische Hilfe danke ich Herrn Professor Dr. Henry J. Koren, St. Leo College, Florida, und Herrn Professor Dr. K. H. Volkmann-Schluck, Universität Köln. Chicago, im Februar rg6g M.S.F. EINLEITUNG Das Nichtgesagte eines Fragmentes gehört zu dem, was es sagt. Zu dem, was das Fragment Sein und Zeit (SZ) sagt, gehört das Offenbleiben einer Reihe von Fragen. Eine dieser Fragen lautet: "Was besagt ontologisch Wert"? Auf dem Boden der materialen Wertethik versteht sich diese Frage als eine nach der sittlichen Seinsweise der Person. Dies nicht nur, weil die Person ein aus­ gezeichneter Träger von bestimmten Wertarten ist, sondern weil zum Menschen überhaupt - gleich wie man ihn ontologisch freilegt - personales Wertsein gehört. Jede Ontologie vom Menschen muss deshalb dem Personsein und seiner sittlichen Seinsart Rechnung tragen. (shrink)

The Book and the Sunnah are the two main sources of Sharʿī science. These two sources are based on narration which requires an absolute certainty, and this makes the reports, especially the mutawātir reports, important for Sharʿī sciences. Many people were involved in the transmission process of the Sunnah and the Book; therefore, Islamic scholars remained loyal to the technical concept “mutawātir reports” which is used in logic and is not open to doubt in terms of credibility. This is particularly (...) important for the science of kalām, which deals with matters of faith. On the other hand, in the science of fiqh, which deals with the practices of the Muslim individuals such as worship and procedures rather than the matters of faith, only the reports that the believer will accept, rather than those that everyone will approve, are sufficient. In this context, as per the science of fiqh, it is sufficient to form a dominant opinion, rather than an absolute certainty as in the science of kalām, for acting upon reports. Some factors, such as the acceptance of conjecture sufficient in the matters associated with fiqh and the low number of mutawātir reports on fiqh matters, also affected the fuqahā’s understanding of certain knowledge. In the context of transmission of the Sunnah, fuqahā partially changed the nature of the concept “mutawātir reports” by going beyond the technical understanding of tawatur. The most important change made by the fuqahā in the nature of mutawātir reports was the inclusion of the phenomenon “sened (chain of transmission)”, which is used to ensure credibility to ḥadīt̲h̲s, in the understanding of tawatur. So much so that while the number rather than the qualifications of the people who convey the reports is important for the credibility of the mutawātir reports in the science of logic; in the determination of mutawātir sunnah, the number of the narration channels which consist of just and fair-minded narrators was taken as a basis in line with the hadith “Whoever ascribes to me what I have not said then let him occupy his seat in Hell-fire.” Even some methodologists valued the justness and fair-mindedness of the narrators so much that they included the famous reports in the scope of mutawātir reports, even though the first layer was ahad, due to their trust in the narrators in the later layers. However, in technical sense, for mutawātir reports, the qualifications of the narrators or who they are is not important at all. On the contrary, any person from a different religion, sect or disposition can take a role in the transmission of mutawātir reports. However, there is no place for fasiq narrators, let alone non-Muslims, in fuqahā’s concept of sened-centered mutawātir reports. Spiritual mutawātir is one of the subjects affected the most by this new understanding of tawatur based on isnād (reporting the chain of transmission). Normally, spiritual mutawātir is the agreement of the reports, conveyed in different texts by a large number of people who cannot agree on a lie, on a common meaning. However, fuqahā interpreted spiritual mutawātir as ahad ḥadīt̲h̲s with different chains of sened reaching a certain number and denoting the same meaning. What makes these two reports different is that the number of narrators assures the credibility of reports in the first one whereas the trust in the justness and fair-mindedness of the narrators does in the second. As a matter of fact, it is not possible to talk about such a spiritual mutawātir if the trust in the justness and fair-mindedness of the narrators who convey the ahad reports is damaged. This approach of spiritual mutawātir was used by the mutakallimūn as much as by the fuqahā. However, they used this approach of mutawātir mostly for matters that are evidenced by the Sunnah but not associated with the essentials of religion, such as Shafa'ah (intercession), Hawd al-Kawthar (Pond of Abundance), Ru’yat Allah (seeing Allah), and imams’ being from Quraysh. Thanks to this new concept of tawatur, Islamic scholars included many ḥadīt̲h̲s that are normally out of the scope of the technical definition of mutawātir reports, in the scope of spiritual mutawātir, and thus provided a credibility to more ḥadīt̲h̲s. (shrink)

Though many agree that we need to account for the role that social factors play in inquiry, developing a viable social epistemology has proved to be a difficult task. According to Longino, it is the processes that make inquiry possible that are aptly described as social, for they require a number of people to sustain them. These processes not only facilitate inquiry, but also ensure that the results of inquiry are more than mere subjective opinions, and thus deserve to be (...) called knowledge. In this paper, I explain Longino’s epistemology and defend it against criticisms recently raised by Kitcher, Schmitt and Solomon. Longino rightly recognizes that not all social factors have the same affect on inquiry. She also recommends that we reconceptualize ‘knowledge,’ distinguishing knowledge from opinion by reference to a social standard. (shrink)

Not so long ago the definition of religion as "a reflection of reality in illusory-fantasy images, ideas, concepts" was perceived as one of the most important arguments of scientific atheism in its anti-religious struggle in the national religious studies. The closeness to the notion of "fantasy" and "fanaticism" made this argument seem irresistible in the fight against religion, as any believer could fall under the murderous characterization of the category of "religious bigotry" it is in some way irreparably backward in (...) comparison to a person with a developed scientific worldview. (shrink)

Heidegger contrasts meditative thinking, which allows detachment from beings, with calculative thinking, which maintains an instrumental and interested relationship with them. In his view, the principle of reason is the main tool for dominating available things. He also embeds the Medieval essence-existence duality within this framework of causality geared towards manipulating beings, judging that the religious notion of creation failed to distance this duality from Greek essentialism. Now, by appropriating the Islamic notion of creation ex nihilo, Avicenna places an ontological (...) indigence at the heart of the created world. He believes that a being necessary by something other than itself remains contingent in itself, even after being caused. Thus, knowledge of the cause doesn’t grant dominance over the thing but fosters detachment from contingent being, recognizing its dependence on an upstream otherness. Moreover, Meister Eckhart, who according to Heidegger perfectly illustrates meditative thought, is indebted precisely to this ontological poverty established by Avicenna. In addition to describing this possible objection from Avicenna to Heidegger, the more general aim of this study is to explore the possibility of an ethical and disinterested use of the principle of reason. (shrink)

Structurally free logic LC was introduced in [4]. A natural extension of LC, in particular, in a sequent formulation, is by conjunction and disjunction that do not distribute over each other. We define a set theoretical semantics for these logics via constructing a representation of a lattice that we extend by intensional operations. Canonically, minimally overlapping filter-ideal pairs are used; this construction avoids the use of an equivalent of the axiom of choice and lends transparency to the structure. We also (...) discuss adapting the present semantics for substructural logics, as well as, the question of cannnonicity of LC+. (shrink)

continent. 2.1 (2012): 29–35. Translated by Vincent W.J. van Gerven Oei from Jeroen Mettes. "Politieke Poëzie: Enige aantekeningen, Poëtica bij N30 (versie 2006)." In Weerstandbeleid: Nieuwe kritiek . Amsterdam: De wereldbibliotheek, 2011. Published with permission of Uitgeverij Wereldbibliotheek, Amsterdam. L’égalité veut d’autres lois . —Eugène Pottier The modern poem does not have form but consistency (that is sensed), no content but a problem (that is developed). Consistency + problem = composition. The problem of modern poetry is capitalism. Capitalism—which has no (...) image: the unrepresentable Idea of “everything.” The problem is that a poem cannot be justified. There is no excuse for it. Political poetry— pure poetry—has to be problematic, though not in a mannerist way. Yes, its problem is first its own problem—poetry’s existence in the same world as the newspaper—but therefore also always everybody’s problem (the problem of any world at all). The cult of the sublime points at a suspect desire for transcendence, nostalgia for paradise lost (the womb?). Melancholia of the post-. But a problem neither sorrows nor mourns, it is alive, and the fact that it is alive is the problem—the problem for death (rigidity, the status quo). Our symbols and ideologies do not hide any god: symbolic = state; imaginary = human; real = money. Problem: the possibility of communal speech (poetry) in the absence of a “we.” Or: what is a “we” that is not a collective subject (or in any case is not a volonté générale )? What is a universal history that is not a History? This work was started in the shade of the anti-globalization protests at the end of November 1999. I considered N30 to be the closure of the nineties, of my adolescence, and of the a seemingly total extinction of social desire. From the beginning I was skeptical about the alterglobalization movement as the avant-garde of a new politics, but something was happening . Maybe this event did not show that, as the slogan would have it, “another world” is possible, but for me it indicated that such possibility was at least still possible. That naked possibility is carrying forward. And if the fundamental tone of this work sounds more desperate than utopian, this is not caused by the catastrophic sequence that since 1999 has plunged us ever deeper into the right-wing nightmare—a nightmare that this work also gives an account for—but because my hope as yet remains empty. Composition . Composition is no design, but the production of an autonomous block of affects (i.e. a POEM), rhythmically subtracted from the language of a community. A poem does something. Is something. New Sentence . Choosing the non sequitur as compositional unit has the advantage that an abstract composition is subjected to the stress of concrete, social references. Where there is a sentence, there is always a world. (This does not hold necessarily for words on their own.) And where sentences collide, something akin to a textual civil war takes place. It is not about “undermining” whatever, or de-scribing the raging global civil war, but about writing social (or even: ontological) antagonism -- including all its catastrophic and utopian possibilities. Minor resistance. Why would poetry be the no protest zone par excellence? It is nothing but protest, not simply qua “content,” but in its most fundamental essence: rhythm. Rhythm is resistance against language, time, and space, and the basis of (what we will continue to call) autonomy. Rhythm starts with the anti-rhythmic caesura as Hölderlin remarked about Sophocles, a disruption of the quotidian drone. The destruction of everything that is dead inside of us. The noise of the avant-garde has never been the representation of the noise of (post)modernity (from the television or shopping mall), but the sober noise of the systematic exchange of an unbearable worldview. The poet does not describe, but looks for a way out: There is a Grain of Sand in Lambeth that Satan cannot find Nor can his Watch Fiends find it, tis translucent & has many Angles But he who finds it will find Oothoons palace, for within Opening into Beulah every angle is a lovely heaven William Blake was not mad. And there has always been only one poetry: the poetry of paradise. The principle is that there is something in art (the essentially creative element) that is disgusted by that which, unlike art, does not aim for the supreme. Wonder is not supreme, tranquility is not supreme, beauty is not supreme. Even amusement is not supreme! The supreme is supremely open, “das Einfache,/ Das Schwer zu machen ist” 1 : paradise. That is abstract. Literally. For me it is not about a concrete imagination, an idyll or utopia. There is no doubt a need for that, but it is not so much the supposed lack of imagination or ideals (human rights are ideals), but a fundamental lack of desire (human rights are no desires) that we suffer from, and from which we do not need to remove Nietzsche’s label of “nihilism.” “We.” George Oppen: “ Of Being Numerous asks the question whether or not we can deal with humanity as something which actually exists.” What is less actual than humanity? Nowadays it appears as a lifeless ideology of cynical power politics. Or as what makes one think. It is a shame to be human. The event is the caesura that defines rhythm. Writing toward the event is not the description of the event, but marking an abstract and intense space in which the event may unfold and keep itself. It is a task. “Remember that thou blesseth the day on which I seized thee, because such is thy obligation.” The event is a contraction (or a series of contractions) with its own rhythm and unique qualities. It is more than an explosion or demonstration. But at the same time less. The endless repetition of images and stories in the media points to a fear for the indeterminate and indeterminable void of the event. In the end there is nothing to see. We do not live in disaster’s shade or miracle’s light, but rather in the rhythm, which is contracted time, having little to do with omnipresent representations. For this book I did not intend a rhythm of evental representations (a narrative rhythm), but a rhythm which would be an event itself , because it draws the border between artwork and history. My desire for a direct engagement with the “extra-textual reality” has nothing to do with the representation of “rumor in the streets.” (What has less street cred than representation?) Naturally, a poem is no historical event and does not change anything. But a poem is a part of history that wants to be repeated forever, constructed in such a way that it is worthy of repetition. It is a part of desire (composition) made consistent (durable). The “historical event” flares up and burns down, and has to burn down to be effective. The leftovers are images and stories (representations), History—no event. The artwork—that is the ambition— remains event (though monumental and inefficient/inoperable). (No wonder that a historical singularity, a revolution, reminds us of a work of art; the resurrection yearns for a judgment, an affirmation; everything depends on it.) Hence the title does not summarize the book, let alone contract its “content” into a quasi-transcendental signifier. The title is juxtaposed to the book, like everything else inside the book, and in that relation it precisely forms a part of it. The ideal work is an open whole, lacking nothing but to which everything may be added. I have been interested in this “everything,” the world, or as I said above: capitalism. “Everything” is not the space for “wonder”—a code word, a shibboleth for petty bourgeois imagination (I recognize myself in the strangest things, a speaking dog, a canal, a pond standing straight—oh my god). No. The world is a social world, not YOUR world, poet. Power is number one. I will call “Dutch,” or “shitty,” whatever denies this power. That hurts, but this pain is an expression of the desire in the world to write another world, or as Blanchot says, “the other of all worlds” 2 : the world. Not as what “is there,” but rather as that which urges for an escape from what “is.” This is a testament of how radical reality has become, for me—or rather, a writing body—in a having-been-written. I am not interested in the problem of “meaning” as misunderstood by literary scholarsi: “order” in “chaos,” “symbolization.” Bullshit. What is there, hop, hope, now: the meaning of the taste in my mouth. Bullshit. I am not interested in the frustration of interpretation; I am writing for readers who do not want to interpret. I do not know how many “professional readers” will hear the music of a paragraph like: Sun. Sushi. Volvo. I hope more than I would think. There is a suggestion (or rather, an actual production) of speed and infinitive owing to the absence of plosives, i.e. articulations such as /k/, /t/, or /p/. Can you hear the slick suaveness? Driving car dark, vocal chiaroscuro of the word “sushi.” The unstressed /i/ stands in the middle of dark vowels and thus acquires its own special out of focus , like a momentary flash or brilliance—an obscure light. It is not about recognizing a story, but about avoiding any story whatsoever: the car disappears in the glow, cars and raw fish have nothing in common except their articulation in a language that brings them together, blurring them. A world appears in its disappearance. For a moment, light is a metaphor for language, though it cannot be reduced to tenor. It is not necessary to be a linguist or philosopher to hear this—a “difficult” poem all too often becomes an allegory of its own impenetrable being-language. The only demand: leave your hermeneutical fetish at home. This was no interpretation. Most shit has been stolen etcetera. That is no longer interesting. You cannot shoot the body with information and let your lawyers reclaim the bullets. So every sentence has been stolen. Also the ones “out” “of” “my” “head.” Why would I be allowed to steal from myself and not from others? Man takes what he needs to move forward. Whatever he encounters, finds in front of him, “occurs” to him. The writer as text editor, or singing pirate. Nothing new here. Important difference with for example Sybren Polet’s 4 montage technique: anti-thematicism. Most of the time ferocious citation from whatever I was reading, listening to, ended up in, and so on. I wrote chapter 12 on my laptop while watching CNN. On the air instead of en plein air . I often employed search engines to generate material. Chapter 20 offers the purest example of this. Often I stop recognizing a particular citation after some time. It is not uncommon for a stolen sentence to conform itself to the paragraph in which it finds itself. Sometimes I nearly arbitrarily replace words. Arbitrariness as a guarantee for absolute democracy. It is a poetics of the non sequitur : a conclusion that does not follow from the premises, the strange element in the discourse. A discourse of strangers. No logical, narrative, thematic unity. There is unity in speed/flight. It has to be read linearly, but not necessarily (not preferably) from beginning to end. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, but this line precedes every point. The middle, the acceleration, comes first. A point occurs where two lines cross. It has been written from up close, at the level of the tension between sentences. Nothing to be seen from a distance: no form except the exchange of form, no geometrical or mythical meaning. You have to get in, “groping toward a continuous present, a using everything a beginning again and again” (Stein). 5 In Dutch, experimental poetry has been mainly dense: a small rectangular form filled with a maximum amount of poetic possibility. But at the moment the poem starts to relax, the anecdotical content seems to increase. This is what is called “epic”: long, narrative. I believe that an epic is more than that, in fact something completely different. An epic is “a poem including history,” 6 a long poem tied up with the life of community, that as a whole does not need to be narrative. The American poets of the twentieth century (Pound, Williams, Zukofsky, Oppen, Olson, Silliman) have put the epic back on the map by interpreting the poem itself as a map, and writing it as navigation. They have invented the experimental epic, a genre that has generated little original following in “our” poetry. N30 is the middle part—“always start in the middle”—of a trilogy, the contours of which remain as of yet unclear, although each episode investigates one of the three “ecstasies of time”—past, present, future—concerning society X. N30 concerns itself with the PRESENT: not with the description of actual facts but of the rhythm and the intense depth in which facts appear to us. Where are we? We are camping in the desert. Sometimes we are looking at the stars. As opposed to maximum density and minimal tension (a characteristic of most (post-)experimental lyricism), I have sought a minimal density and maximum tension in this book, considered as a long non-narrative prose poem. On the one hand, the minimal density is obtained by the inherent formlessness of prose, on the other hand by the conscious refusal of any active (formal, non-rhythmic) synthesis: the poem tells nothing, shows nothing, has no theme. I did not seek maximum tension either by loading the quotidian with epiphanic radioactivity (“wonder,” confirmation from above), or by means of the intensity of the linguistic structure. I want an abstract tension, but social in its abstraction, in other words, not neutralized by and subjected to Form. Instead of form (transcendent): composition (immanent). The concept is series. Ideal: every unit is necessary for the efficacy of the others and the whole, their relation is purely linear, i.e. non-hierarchic, non-syllogistic, non-discursive, non-narrative. Sentence related to sentence like paragraph to paragraph and chapter to chapter; the whole means nothing and represents nothing. Inside the sentence: syntax (Chomsky’s tree, a type of parallel circuit), outside: parataxis (coordination, an asyntactic line through language and world). I consider duration—the energy of duration (rhythm)—to be the fundament of a poem, the temporal inclination to delimit a “space.” Being as consistency, its consistency. A spatial part of time is not merely a metaphor for an inevitable trajectory, an inescapable time, something like “our time.” Not merely—because rhythm comes from language and is not projected onto it; the poem derives from the world like a scent and a color and a life from a flower. A series, a sequence: nothing potential, but truly infinite—the movement of an infinitude. The infinite series = everything minus totality. That means that there is no container—no Form, no Self, no Image, no Structure, not even a Fragment—just “the prose of the world.” No representation, but also no staging of the impossibility of representation (the postmodern sublime). These are no fragments, no image of a fragmented world or personality, no cautious incantations around the Void. It does not exist. It is a movement. Buying bread, a flock of birds, a bomb falling—they do not depict or represent anything, not literally, not metaphorically. There is an Idea, which is however nothing more than a rhythm, in the same way that capitalism is nothing more than a pure function. Parataxis: the white space between two sentences stresses, which is nevertheless always there, also between words, even between letters: the out of focus of idle talk, the gutter, the irreducible Mallarméan mist which renders even the seemingly most transparent text legible. The white space suggests a neutral medium for free signification, a substance of language. A non sequitur is an element from a foreign discourse, which stresses the white space as space, and problematizes freedom for supra-sentential signification. I start by withdrawing material, leaving the initiative to the sentences. In general a word presupposes less often a discourse than a sentence. What discourse is presupposed by “dog”? We could think of several, but why would we? It is more probable that, when faced with the naked word, we think of its naked (dictionary) meaning, of its denotative signified. By means of two simple interventions we may also write the word as sentence: Dog. In no way this suggests the discourse from which this sentence originates, but in any case we’re presupposing one. This is shown by questions like: “Whose dog? Who’s a dog? What kind of dog?” Etc. (Sentences are question marks.) A sentence implies/is a microcosm—a subject, a verb, an object, and so on. Even an incomplete or ungrammatical sentence does so. My main fascination while writing this book is the worldly and social aspect of language, an aspect that often becomes invisible, or rather, transparent in narrativity—the stretching of sentences into stories. Narrativity organizes a new discourse and a new world, and places a sometimes all too dispersing relation of transparence in between. The conventional novel is the brothel of being. I do not intend to prohibit brothels, and I have certainly not intended to write an anti-novel (THIS IS A POEM), but I do consider narrativity (in general, in poetry, in the news, in daily life) to be ontologically secondary with regard to an immediate being in the world through sentences, also if the latter have been withdrawn from a narrative or otherwise externally structured discourse (which in that case would therefore be chronologically primary ). Naturally, two or more sentences are always in danger of telling stories or arguing, just like the world is always in danger of becoming an objective representation, facing us, strangers. That is why need to wage war—against representation and against the interface, against interaction. AGAINST THE “READER.” To the extent that a sentence is worldly, writing is a condensed global war, and in so far as there is ultimately only one world and one open continuum of languages, it is a global civil war. Nice subject for an epic. The elaboration of a singular problem—prose as the outside of poetry, the form of the novel as purely prosodic composition scheme—“expresses” the universal problem: capitalism as Idea of the world vs. poetry as language of an (im)possible community. The paragraphs are blocks of rhythmically contracted social material. By choosing the sentence as the basic compositional component, an abstract whole may contain social sounds, without telling a story or showing an image. Composition is subrepresentative —a rhythmic, passive synthesis, or rather: a synthesis of syntheses. I never write large blocks of prose in one sitting, because there is no obvious organizational vector —plot, theme, conscience—outside the inherent qualities of the material itself. Usually I write down one sentence, sometimes two, but rarely more than three. Those sentences are usually placed in the text which I am editing at the time. In fact, there is no original composition, new chapters split off from chapters which became too long during the editing process. (Revision mainly consists of adding and inserting, displacing and dividing; only during the last phase, when the text has gained enough consistency, there may be subtraction to tighten the composition; each chapter requires a season of daily revision). This constant revision, accompanied by a continuous influx of collective background noise (to speak with Van Bastelaere), 7 makes every chapter a block condensed (“historical” and “personal”) time. The block itself is a-personal and a-historic; it is ontologically autonomous. If there is such a thing as a spirit of the times, I do not try to offer an image of it, but rather to cancel something of it by erecting a monument of its own excrement within its own boundaries. Tuning and dis-tuning , “in de taal der neerslachtigen een eigen geluid doen klinken,” 8 in other words, desiring in an Elysian way. In this sense I have intended to be able to write a political poetry. The ultimate political poem is the epic, “the tale of the tribe.” I consider N30 to be a prolegomenon to a future epic (of which it in the end will form a part a structural moment, as introduction-in-the-middle), an extended pile on top of an epic as narrative, a question of the tribe and question of its history. I was burdened by too much satire, too much bullshit. But: satire willy-nilly = the only justifiable satire. Against the abstract universalism of the market (“globalism”): concrete disgust, a positive way of saying “No.” Moreover, disgust is a specifically total attitude, which ultimately concerns the world as a whole. I hate this or that, but I am disgusted by EVERYTHING (when I am disgusted), and so it appears that satire is in fact related to the epic, in so far as it concerns society, the cosmos, history. Maybe it is no coincidence that the Dutch literary canon knows no great poet of disgust; what could be more fearful to us than society, the cosmos, and history? The T-tendency (T from Tollens 9 ) clearly points into the direction of the small, friendly, ironic, melancholic, acquiescent, wondrous, and so on. The anti-political, anti-cosmic, anti-historical. (Why am I so philosophical? To scare away the Dutchies.) And most of all: the “poetical” (the pseudo-mysticism from the backyard). Yes, the N in N30 also stands for the Netherlands (just like 30 indicates the number of chapters). I was not in Seattle, I do not live in Iraq. But is not the whole world bleeding to death on Dutch paving stones? Let’s hope that we mowed away something with this total satire, also “in myself.” The arrogant stupidity that definitely thinks to know the essence of freedom (the free development of esthetic needs inside the void), that cannot take anything serious, only believes in the disciplined bestiality of the individual (“norms and values”) and the mere functioning of a social factory which finds no justification whatsoever outside its functioning (“get to work”)… Who knows. A certain aimed destruction leaves grooves and craters, mapping out a next adventure. Pound’s periplum : sailing while mapping the coasts. Immanent orientation. The terrain changes with the map, history changes with the poem. Maps never merely organize the chaos, transcendent schemes imposed on a formless Ding-an-sich . They organize from within, surfing. But they are most of all routes back into the chaos or forward to paradise (final identity of chaos and paradise; Schlegel: “ Nur diejenige Verworrenheit ist ein Chaos aus der eine Welt entspringen kann ”10). A poem is not only a piece of history, it is also a flight from history. Maps give chaos to the form of reality , open escape routes, break through representations, make us shivery and dazed. Paradise is immanent to a fleeting desire. History is the history of labor—this is Adam’s curse—and the poet works too: For to articulate sweet sounds together Is to work harder than all these, and yet Be thought an idler by the noisy set Of bankers, school masters, and clergymen The martyrs call the world 11 But: the poet works in paradise. The paradox of the artwork, the work that is no work, the piece of history that cannot be reduced to History—this is explained by The Space of Literature , a virtual space, an autonomous rhythm, not outside, but in the midst of the noise, a piece of paradise in hell, a postcard from the vale of tears addressed to paradise, to X. Political poetry means: a poetry that dares to think about itself, about its language and about its world and about the problematic relation between both, which is this relation as problem. A poetry that thinks at all, articulates its problem. It has nothing to do with journalism or morality or debate, let alone the law or the state. It has nothing to do with “criticism” if this means the replacement of incorrect representations by other, more correct representations. It has something to do with ethics in the sense of learning to live. It has something to do with the community and the language of the community (whichever that may be) and the role of the poet regarding the community. It concerns justice without judgement or measure. In the end the just word is just a word , to paraphrase Godard: it is from a future that is unimaginable. It Is no rational engagement, but an aversion against everything that obstructs life, and love for everything what is worthy of having been loved. The world is engaged with me, not the other way round. First Exodus, then Sinai. A desire does not start with an agenda. To answer the question whether I am really so naive as to want to change the world: “We only want the world.” Justice is the world appealing to us to liberate it from all possible chains, from each organization and inequality, to be it, smooth, equal, under a clear sky—a desert and a people in a desert. That moment between Egypt and the Law. It is not a revolution, but the sky above the revolution. Poetry = the science of escape. There is no art that we already know. The weakness of modernistic epic poetry seems to me to be the unwillingness to completely abandon narrative as a structural principle, in favor of a composition “around” or from an event. The China Cantos and Adams Cantos are the low point, and the Pisan Cantos the high point of Pound’s poetry. Two types of research: archival representation of the past vs. ontology of the present (which virtually presupposes the entire history). Presupposing an event means that it is impossible for the poet to stage his own absence, but in no way makes the work personal. An event is the unknown, the new invading into the business as usual, so also the personal. The question heading this research is not: “Who am I?” but “What is happening?” The book is as little illegible as Mondrian’s work is invisible. Form is of interest only to the extent that it empowers liberation. Ron Silliman So no formalism, but what it means to live in this world and to have a future in it. I want something that holds together that’s not smooth. Bruce Andrews The past above, the future below and the present pouring down: the roar, the roar of the present, a speech— William Carlos Williams If my confreres wanted to write a work with all history in its maw, I wished, from the beginning to start all over again, attempting to know nothing but a will to create, and matter at hand. Ronald Johnson NOTES 1) “The easy thing/ that is difficult to make.” Bertold Brecht, Lob des Kommunismus . (All footnotes are the translator’s) 2) Maurice Blanchot, The Space of Literature , trans. Ann Smock. Lincoln/London: University of Nebraska Press (1989), 75. 3) Mettes uses the word “Neerlandicus,” which refers to scholars of Dutch language and literature. 4) Dutch poet. 5) Gertrude Stein. “Composition as Explanation.” A Stein Reader . Ed. Ulla E. Dydo. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press (1993), 495-503. 6) Ezra Pound. 7) Flemish poet. 8) “Resounding an original sound in the language of the despondent.” A. Roland Holst, De afspraak . 9) Dutch poet. 10) “Only such a confusion is a chaos which can give rise to a world.” 11) W.B. Yeats, “Adam’s Curse.&rdquo. (shrink)

Journal of the Pali Text Society, Volume XXVI. Edited by O. von Hinüber and R.F. Gombrich. Pali Text Society, Oxford 2000. 234 pp. £15.00. ISBN 0 86013 391 5.

Synonymic Collocations in the Tipitaka: a study. M.G.Dhadphale. Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute, Poona 1980. xiii + 267pp. Rs 50.

In addition to the neglect of philosophy by medicine, emphasized in a recent editorial in this journal, there has been an equally important neglect of medicine by philosophy. Philosophy stands to gain from medicine in three respects: in materials, the conceptual difficulties arising in the practice of medicine being key data for philosophical enquiry; in methods, these data, through their problematic character, being ideally suited to the technique of linguistic analysis; and in results, the practical requirements of medicine placing a (...) direct demand for progress on philosophical theory. The future of the relationship between philosophy and medicine depends on the development of a positive two-way trade between them. (shrink)