OntoClean is an approach towards the formal evaluation of taxonomic relations in ontologies. The application of OntoClean consists of two main steps. First, concepts are tagged according to meta-pr...

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Barbarous On Either Side: The New York Blues Of Mr. Sammler’s PlanetStanley CrouchThere are no two ways about virtue, my dear student; it either is, or it is not. Talk of doing penance for your sins! It is a nice system of business, when you pay for your crime by an act of contrition! You seduce a woman that you may set your foot on such and such (...) a rung of the social ladder; you sow dissension among the children of a family; you descend, in short, to every base action that can be committed at home or abroad, to gain your own ends for you own pleasure or profit.... That man with yellow gloves and a golden tongue commits many a murder; he sheds no blood, but he drains his victims as surely; a desperado forces open a door with a crowbar, dark deeds both of them! You yourself will do every one of the things that I suggested to you today, bar the bloodshed. Do you believe there is any absolute standard in this world?—Vautrin, Père GoriotWe are now mightily perplexed by the vulgarity and the brutal appetites of our culture, which Mr. Sammler sees so, so clearly, startled from page to page and in passage after passage of Saul Bellow’s 1970 novel. The terrible children of our day, the worst of our politicians, and the rampant sleaze that slides up and down the classes, across the races and religions, from the cynical students to the unrepentingly jaded and old, can be traced back to the elements that are so alarming to the protagonist of Mr. Sammler’s Planet. As a well-educated man who has smelled the molten breath and felt the bloody teeth of European fascism, Mr. Sammler is obsessed with understanding what makes or breaks a society, what causes a civilization to embrace ruthlessness as the [End Page 89] best way to realize its ambitions and handle its fears. A veteran of World War II, he has seen killing and he has done it himself, which makes him a man for whom none of his questions exists in a speculative air unfouled by the odor of murder. His intellectual ponderings are thereby part of a drama in which he has seen the lowest the Western world has to offer. This lack of innocence makes him a hero and a thinker haunted by his past and startled to uneasiness by the present. Oh, yes: Artur Sammler knows firsthand how quickly the metamorphosis from the refined to the smugly savage can take place. “Like many people who had seen the world collapse once, Mr. Sammler entertained the possibility it might collapse twice.”The very conception of Mr. Sammler is expressive of Bellow’s gift for bringing together the intellect, the passion, the spirit, and the flesh. The physical responses to stimulation are rendered with the same attention given to all of the many things that Mr. Sammler contemplates as he tries to get a grip on New York, America’s financial capital and the pinnacle of the nation’s culture. Mr. Sammler’s ideas are counterpointed by feeling and sensuality to such a degree that the thoughts are themselves elements of emotion, which is something only our finest writers can bring off, the literary condition of character so complete that every aspect of consciousness takes form within the container of a body equal in the life of its senses to the spirit it carries. We get the feeling of a human being in repose, in grief, in rage, in self-protective contemplation, in unsparing self-examination, in attentive motion through Manhattan, on foot, in public transportation, in chauffeured limousine.New York’s power over the country was central to why it was chosen as the place of action. Mr. Sammler could not be in a better setting if he were to wrestle with the identity of the United States. One part of it obviously has to do with the character’s Jewishness. Manhattan and Hollywood are the two places where Jews have made their deepest imprints on the country. Unlike the dream factory of Hollywood, New York is the city... (shrink)

The iconic status of the periodic table of the elements has been recognized by a variety of prominent chemists and historians of science. For example, John Emsley proclaimed: “As long as chemistry is studied there will be a periodic table. And even if someday we communicate with another part of the universe, we can be sure that one thing that both cultures will have in common is an ordered system of the elements that will be instantly recognizable by both (...) intelligent life forms” .Furthermore, its paramount significance is universally recognized even far beyond the field of chemistry. According to the late American astronomer Harlow Shapley , “[The periodic table] is probably the most compact and meaningful compilation of knowledge that man has yet devised. The periodic table does for matter what the geological age table does for cosmic time. Its history is the story of man’s great conquests in the microcosmos” .Of course, philosopher of science Eri .. (shrink)

This is the first collection of essays of philosophical thanatology that explicitly connects the metaphysical and the ethical questions of death, including some bioethical questions. The volume has four sections, and the discussion moves from historical and theoretical problems to practical issues of bioethics. However, as the editor of the book, James Stacey Taylor, has surely intended, the practical questions discussed are closely related to traditional metaphysical problems, most notably to the questions such as whether death is a harm to (...) the person who dies, whether posthumous harm is possible, and whether the dead can be wronged. Of course, the central idea is not to claim that the discussion of bioethical problems related to death commits us always to consider deeper metaphysical questions first. Rather, the point is simply that in many cases the metaphysical and the (bio)ethical questions of philosophical thanatology are in fact linked. Therefore, a collection that involves deba. (shrink)

This will be an admittedly opinionated review that gives with one hand and takes with the other. Let me be clear though from the outset that there is much to admire and agree with here. Perhaps, the biggest complaint is the failure of the author to engage with other highly relevant literature in philosophy of science and metaphysics that would yield her natural allies or would provide natural foils that ought to be named and engaged. On the allies side, there (...) are many people now writing in the vein of emergence that have made many of the same claims and used many of the same case studies to bolster their claims as Thalos. Surely, this requires a response on her part given that “emergence” is one of her primary foils. Rather than discussing those people’s work, she chooses to focus on a particular brand of emergence as a foil and thereby throws out the baby with the bathwater. Thalos also fails to engage the huge and highly relevant literature on the causal (or d .. (shrink)

In the first sentence of his thematically innovative book, Mark A. Cheetham informs us that Kant, Art, and Art History “examines the far-reaching and varied reception of Immanuel Kant’s thought in art history and the practicing visual arts from the late eighteenth century to the present”. This is surely a long-overdue project in Kant scholarship, and Cheetham deserves praise for having finally put this intellectual ball into play. He then sets one of his methodological assumptions squarely on the table: “there (...) is no pure Kant and no secure border between the many areas that he has influenced”. Cheetham recognizes no secure borders between “art,” “art history,” and “philosophy,” since Kant clearly influenced all three. (shrink)

Oxford University Press proudly announces: “Now, for the first time, Oxford offers the general public a series of readable accessible biographies of great scientists.” Included among the chosen great men is Charles Babbage, described on the back cover of this book as “a dazzling genius with vision extending far beyond the limitations of the Victorian age.” Well, I'm not quite sure what this means, and unfortunately our understanding of Babbage and his historical context is not greatly illuminated by this (...) short book.Bruce Collier and James MacLachlan have produced an uncritical biography of Babbage that glorifies him as “the Grandfather of the modern computer” rather than shedding new light on his work within the context of nineteenth‐century England. Partly, no doubt, this is due to the remit of this Oxford series and its targeted audience. It is good that history of science and technology is being taken to a wider audience, but unfortunately very little is made of the work many historians have already done. The book, however, does do a useful and lucid job of describing the aims and workings of both the Difference and Analytical Engines, and it has helpful sidebars describing some of the technical aspects necessary to understanding Babbage's objectives and resources.Overall, however, historians may find the eulogizing and whiggish approach of this book a little irritating. The authors are prone to a number of ungrounded remarks, such as the allegation that the government was misguided to pay nearly £300,000 for Marc Brunel to build a tunnel under the Thames, in comparison to the “stingy” amount given to Babbage to build his Difference Engine . To make judgments about past events from the concerns of the present is not particularly fruitful. It was not at all clear to contemporaries that Babbage's engine was worth investing in or, indeed, was possible within the technological parameters then available. As such, perhaps a more interesting question would be: How did Babbage manage to get as much public money as he did in the first place? The authors would have been far more helpful had they actually related industrial Britain to the work of Babbage.Throughout this book readers will be constantly reminded of Babbage's prophetic genius. For example, on page 63 we learn that he devised a scheme to replace the transport of mail by road with a system of elevated wires carrying letters in a metal container between London and Bristol. This inspires the authors to remark: “Babbage would certainly have been overjoyed by e‐mail, by which electronic symbols are transported all over the world in the blink of an eye.” Could it be that Babbage was also the great grandfather of electronic mail? On page 65 we learn that he was also the originator of the idea of having “black boxes” used to record information in case of train or aircraft crashes, while a few pages later the authors reflect: “imagine how much Ada [Lovelace] and Charles would have loved word processing, spreadsheets, and databases!” Some people will no doubt delight in such speculations, and who am I to sour the story? As such this is a useful introduction to twentieth‐century Babbage. (shrink)

The agenda informing this compact book has the transparency of crystal. Against the widely repeated claim that the so‐called Information Age began with the invention of the transistor in 1947, a claim trumpeted both by the knowledgeable and the ignorant , Daniel Headrick seeks a more distant source for the information‐saturated environment in which we now live. He sensibly points out that human demand for information is as old as humanity itself, and consequently we should not look to name any (...) single moment as the “dawn” of the Information Age. Instead we should be attentive to historical periods during which the availability of information accelerates sharply. Often such moments are associated with particular technical innovations, such as the appearance of double‐entry bookkeeping, printing, the telegraph, and, yes, the computer. But Headrick wants to direct attention away from particular machines and technologies as accelerators of information and toward the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries as a period during which a host of novel information systems were introduced.On this basis the book discusses a series of developments in information systems under five headings. The first, “Organizing Information,” describes how Linnaeus and Lavoisier and Guyton de Morveau created new languages to process and communicate scientific information. The creation of the metric system finds a niche in this chapter as well. Headrick's second heading, “Transforming Information,” discusses the attempt by governments to collect statistics about populations, culminating in the specification of a decennial census in the American Constitution and the repeated attempts by French revolutionary regimes to conduct a census during the 1790s. The third heading, “Displaying Information,” turns to innovations in mapmaking during the eighteenth century and the invention of graphical representation. Under the fourth heading, “Storing Information,” Headrick describes eighteenth‐century encyclopedias and dictionaries, an overview that thankfully ranges considerably more widely than Diderot's Encyclopédie. Finally, the heading “Communicating Information” discusses the development of postal systems in various European countries and North America, as well as the invention of telegraphy. Of particular interest here is the extensive network of visual telegraphs established in France during the 1790s and then elsewhere in Europe.This breadth of coverage is impressive and suggests the comprehensiveness and significance of Headrick's story, but it also betrays certain weaknesses. First, the treatment of topics is highly uneven. The discussion of encyclopedias and dictionaries, for example, is deep and well informed by the primary sources. The treatment of Linnaeus's taxonomy, Lavoisier's chemical nomenclature, and the metric system is far more superficial, as is the analysis of postal systems. Second, this same breadth causes one to wonder just what the phenomenon is that Headrick means to describe. Such concerns are certainly not diminished by the wholly unsatisfactory definition provided for the book's central concept, information. As the book defines it, information is “the patterns of energy and matter that humans understand” . That somewhat underdetermines the object, I should say.Disappointing too was the book's failure to engage very deeply with an explanation of why these changes occurred. Leaving aside the question of whether all of the changes described really constitute changes in information systems , and also the question of whether all of these eighteenth‐century novelties could not be traced farther back in time, as several surely could, we can still ask what brought such developments together. A book of such synthetic reach ought to be ideal for such ruminations. As one might expect, Headrick does attribute the rising demand for information to the attempt by enlightened absolutist governments and later revolutionary regimes to develop policies to stimulate economic growth, along with the needs of actors in an increasingly complex and robust economic system. But all too often the book simply asserts that because this was the Age of Reason, the innovations occurred because they were inherently more rational. Linnaeus's nomenclature appealed to the “orderly minds of mid‐eighteenth‐century rationalists” , while the physician William Farr's statistical compilation of disease data for the English General Register Office gave “a more scientific basis to the classification of diseases” , and so on. (shrink)

Surely since the Enlightenment, if not before, the study of mind has centered principally on how man achieves a “true” knowledge of the world. Emphasis in this pursuit has varied, of course: empiricists have concentrated on the mind’s interplay with an external world of nature, hoping to find the key in the association of sensations and ideas, while rationalists have looked inward to the powers of mind itself for the principles of right reason. The objective, in either case, has been (...) to discover how we achieve “reality,” that is to say, how we get a reliable fix on the world, a world that is, as it were, assumed to be immutable and, as it were, “there to be observed.”This quest has, of course, had a profound effect on the development of psychology, and the empiricist and rationalist traditions have dominated our conceptions of how the mind grows and how it gets its grasp on the “real world.” Indeed, at midcentury Gestalt theory represented the rationalist wing of this enterprise and American learning theory the empiricist. Both gave accounts of mental development as proceeding in some more or less linear and uniform fashion from an initial incompetence in grasping reality to a final competence, in one case attributing it to the work out of internal processes or mental organization, and in the other to some unspecified principle of reflection by which—whether through reinforcement, association, or conditioning—we came to respond to the world “as it is.” There have always been dissidents who challenged these views, but conjectures about human mental development have been influenced far more by majoritarian rationalism and empiricism than by these dissident voices. Jerome Bruner is research professor of psychology at New York University, where he is also serving as Meyer Visiting Professor of Law. His most recent book, Acts of Meaning, appeared in 1990. In 1987 he received the Balzan Prize for “a lifetime contribution to the study of human psychology.”. (shrink)

… surely there would be men enough, willing and glad to contribute to the regeneration of the poor outcasts of the city. It is no longer an experiment since the Children's Aid has removed of this class, in thirteen years, eleven thousand two hundred and seventy two! Who would not rejoice to aid in such an enterprise…? Money only is wanting. Shall that be an insurmountable obstacle in the way of accomplishing such an unspeakable blessing? New York Children's Aid (...) Society, 1866 Annual Report. (shrink)

Are they needed? To be sure. The Darwinian industry, industrious though it is, has failed to provide texts of more than a handful of Darwin's books. If you want to know what Darwin said about barnacles (still an essential reference to cirripedists, apart from any historical importance) you are forced to search shelves, or wait while someone does it for you; some have been in print for a century; various reprints have appeared and since vanished." -Eric Korn,Times Literary Supplement (...) Charles Robert Darwin (1880-1882) has been widely recognized since his own time as one of the most influential writers in the history of Western thought. His books were widely read by specialists and the general public, and his influence had been extended by almost continuous public debate over the last 130 years. New York University Press' edition makes it possible for the first time to review Darwin's public literary output as a whole, plus his scientific journal articles, his private notebooks, and his correspondence. This is the first complete edition containing all of Darwin's published books, featuring definitive texts recording original paginations with Darwin's indexes retained. All illustrations and plates are presented, inclucing 82 color plates of birds and mammals and several folding maps and plates. The set also features a general introduction and index, and textural introductions in each volume. (shrink)

Are they needed? To be sure. The Darwinian industry, industrious though it is, has failed to provide texts of more than a handful of Darwin's books. If you want to know what Darwin said about barnacles (still an essential reference to cirripedists, apart from any historical importance) you are forced to search shelves, or wait while someone does it for you; some have been in print for a century; various reprints have appeared and since vanished." -Eric Korn,Times Literary Supplement (...) Charles Robert Darwin (1880-1882) has been widely recognized since his own time as one of the most influential writers in the history of Western thought. His books were widely read by specialists and the general public, and his influence had been extended by almost continuous public debate over the last 130 years. New York University Press' edition makes it possible for the first time to review Darwin's public literary output as a whole, plus his scientific journal articles, his private notebooks, and his correspondence. This is the first complete edition containing all of Darwin's published books, featuring definitive texts recording original paginations with Darwin's indexes retained. All illustrations and plates are presented, inclucing 82 color plates of birds and mammals and several folding maps and plates. The set also features a general introduction and index, and textural introductions in each volume. (shrink)

From the author of the #1 New York Times bestseller On Bullshit, the case for worrying less about the rich and more about the poor Economic inequality is one of the most divisive issues of our time. Yet few would argue that inequality is a greater evil than poverty. The poor suffer because they don't have enough, not because others have more, and some have far too much. So why do many people appear to be more distressed by the (...) rich than by the poor? In this provocative book, the #1 New York Times bestselling author of On Bullshit presents a compelling and unsettling response to those who believe that the goal of social justice should be economic equality or less inequality. Harry Frankfurt, one of the most influential moral philosophers in the world, argues that we are morally obligated to eliminate poverty—not achieve equality or reduce inequality. Our focus should be on making sure everyone has a sufficient amount to live a decent life. To focus instead on inequality is distracting and alienating. At the same time, Frankfurt argues that the conjunction of vast wealth and poverty is offensive. If we dedicate ourselves to making sure everyone has enough, we may reduce inequality as a side effect. But it’s essential to see that the ultimate goal of justice is to end poverty, not inequality. A serious challenge to cherished beliefs on both the political left and right, On Inequality promises to have a profound impact on one of the great debates of our time. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Denying the Body? Memory and the Dilemmas of History in DescartesTimothy J. ReissIn an essay first published in The New York Review of Books in January 1983, touching her apprenticeship as writer, the Barbadian /American novelist Paule Marshall described the long afternoon conversations with which her mother and friends used to relax in the family kitchen. She recalled how they saw things as composed of opposites; not torn, (...) but completed and made whole by them.Theirs was not a Manichean brand of dualism that sees matter, flesh, the body, as inherently evil, because they constantly addressed each other as “soully-gal”—soul: spirit; gal: the body, flesh, the visible self. And it was clear from their tone that they gave one as much weight and importance as the other. They had never heard of the mind/body split. 1This closing claim is surely less than self-evident. Whether or not the companions had heard of the mind/body split depends on the meaning given to the verb “hear.” Certainly it was embedded in their language, however much the phrase “soully-gal” might recombine its parts.Did the split come from Descartes and early European debates, linguistically colonizing all those who came within its sphere—Africans, Barbadians, Brooklynites? Did it come from a Christian heritage, with its haggling over bodily mortality and immortality of soul? Who knows? A first point is that it is still an everyday experience, deeply buried in language and so in the ideas, feelings, and meanings expressed in language. A second point is that the post-Cartesian debates—to simplify for a moment with an overly heavy [End Page 587] hand—were and are themselves but a variant within a much longer received wisdom. Nonetheless, such wisdom is now bound to that variant, which, willy-nilly, does give one set of parameters to a common experience—at least, to that of those of us who dwell under Western hegemonies. It gives them also, no doubt, to many who live within them at once less clearly and more contentiously.I would like to offer a further powerful instance here, simply to emphasize what and how much is at stake in the questions to be addressed. It occurs in a writing by the Guyanese novelist Wilson Harris, his Palace of the Peacock. First in a tetralogy, this novel recounts something like a journey away from a life of colonial and postcolonial violence and oppression towards a hoped-for rebirth in “fulfilment and understanding.” 2 Early on, the harsh protagonist, Donne, mocks the narrator, his mysterious “double” and “brother,” Dreamer, who has remarked their distance from “the folk.” “Is it a mystery of language and address?” asks Donne. Slightly bewildered, Dreamer struggles to suggest that the obstacle is less of language than of a deeper disjunction:“it’s an inapprehension of substance,” I blurted out, “an actual fear of the substance of life, fear of the substance of the folk, a cannibal blind fear in oneself. Put it how you like,” I cried, “it’s a fear of acknowledging the true substance of life. Yes, fear I tell you, the fear that breeds bitterness in our mouth, the haunting sense of fear that poisons us and hangs us and murders us. And somebody,” I declared, “must demonstrate the unity of being, and show...” I had grown violent and emphatic... “that fear is nothing but a dream and an appearance....” 3Recovery of unity might become a way to defeat political and historical violences. In the next novel in the sequence, one of two self-indulgently whining characters, accused of pining for a woman who has run away to seek education, explodes: “I don’t believe you can begin to see how some body like they born seeking for mind.” 4 For peoples of the colonized Americas, imbued with “the great civilization of the American Indian,” this urge, Harris then wrote in a critical essay, was simply the personal form of a social and political necessity to recover still-living elements of a culture for which “matter truly bore the imprint of genius,” refusing “the taboo of spirituality removed from sensuous direction.” 5 Recently, Harris has worried this... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:THE INSCRUTABILITY O:F MORAL EVIL IN KANT ((W:HENCE COMETH EVIL?" Late in his career, Immanuel Kant would turn his attention to this perennial question with an elaborate account of " radical evil " in Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone. His discussion produced consternation among his admirers, such as Goethe, and continues to produce puzzlement among his commentators. Among the chief difficulties facing the modern-day interpreter has been (...) the welter of complex terminology tossed up by Kant's attempts to tame his topic. The Kant specialist can justifiably suppose that if only he or she could un-scramble the terminology, grasp the intended interconnections among the terms, and set the discussion within the context of the entire critical philosophy, the result would be a reasonably clear view of Kant's theory of the nature and source of moral evil. There is of course some justification to this vaguely masochistic approach to the matter, yet such an approach, I fear, leads inevitably to frustration. This is because, despite all the appearances to the contrary, Kant never really explains moral evil in the discussion of radical evil in Religion. To be sure, he offers a definition of what moral evil is, by the terms of his philosophy. Nevertheless, he never really accounts for evil, nor does he offer anything remotely approaching an answer to my opening question. The deepest part of Kant's analysis is not a response to that question, but a link between moral evil and human freedom, and this link is utterly inexplicable, for the same reason that freedom itself is, for Kant, ultimately inexplicable. Thus, by this reading of the theory of radical evil, we are not finally led to comprehend Kant's view of evil. Instead, we are 246 THE INSCRUTABILITY OF MORAL EVIL IN KANT 247 reminded of the contingent nature of the exercise of freedom, the unfathomable quality of the process of character-building, and, finally, the sheer inscrutability of moral evil itself. Kant is theorizing about human nature in a way that gradually discloses the futility of domesticating this topic conceptually or rationally. This point is worth stressing, partly because of certain stereotypes that persist regarding the things Kant's philosophy supposedly renders in rational form. And, obviously, the point can be stressed in the present context by pursuing further the notion that moral evil is, for Kant, inscrutable. The inscrutability of moral evil does not pop into view all at once, for Kant's discussion in Religion is set in the context of a complex account of the structure of the will, the nature of the incentives capable of determining the will, and the issue of freedom. Consequently, in what follows I shall attempt to trace the Kantian line of thought lying behind his agnosticism regarding the source of moral evil. -IFor Kant, moral evil resides in a maxim.1 A maxim is for him a special kind of principle, one which guides or informs actionin effect, a "practical principle." The very idea of a maxim is a key element in Kant's efforts to determine how reason can be practical. Discourse about maxims is Kant's way of accounting for those practical principles by which we actually do act, instead of only those principles by which we ought ideally to act.2 In effect, a maxim is the guiding principle that I could state to myself were I to reflect upon the overall policy determining a given act (" I should enrich myself by whatever 1 Kant, Die Religion innerhalb der Grenzen der blossen Vernunft, ed. W. Weischedel (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1978), p. 6*7. English translation, Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone, trans. Theodore M. Greene and Hoyt H. Hudson (New York: Harper and Row, 1960), p. 17. Hereafter referred to as Religion, followed by page numbers in both Weischedel and Greene/Hudson, with all translations taken from the latter. 2 Kant, Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals. trans. Lewis White Beeck, (New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1950), pp. 17 n.l, 38 n.9. Q48 GORDON E. MICHALSON means possible," " I should at all times tell the truth "). This distinction between guiding principles by which we actually do... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Remembering Richard J. Bernstein (1932–2022)Tara Mastrelli and Mark SandersRemembrance for Richard J. BernsteinMy name is Tara Mastrelli. I am a graduate student at the New School for Social Research.1 Dick Bernstein was my teacher and my friend. I was also the TA for his final seminar on American Pragmatism this past spring, an experience that I want to share with you today.In the months leading up to this seminar, (...) Dick said something shifted for him in the way he understood pragmatism—a sort of awakening on his part. He redesigned his syllabus into two parts—the first, working through the classical pragmatists, namely, Peirce, James, and Dewey, as he had done for sixty-eight years. And then the second half would—in Dewey's words—turn toward "the problems of men" (though Dick would always say human beings), engaging with themes and texts from Black and feminist thinkers. To be clear, for Dick, this was not an expansion of the canon or an exercise in who should or should not count as a pragmatist. Rather his aim was something different altogether—to see if we could begin to understand pragmatism not as a canon at all, but rather as a living, evolving movement.Now the point is not that this was the perfect syllabus—it wasn't. The point is what redesigning his syllabus can tell us about the type of person and teacher that Dick was. At almost 90 years old, teaching a subject he had taught for almost seventy years, he did not sit back and say that he knew everything. He wanted to learn more—from his colleagues, his students, the world around him—to experience more, to challenge his assumptions, to understand more. [End Page 103]Beyond the syllabus, another factor that made this seminar unique was Dick's health. His illness started at the beginning of the semester. He taught our first class from an emergency room in New York City during the Omicron wave of COVID-19. He was wearing a mask and breathing tubes. Machines were beeping all around him. Nurses came in from time to time to check on him. Nonetheless … his enthusiasm was not remotely diminished. Laying out his aims and ambitions for the course, he referred to it as "an exciting adventure"—for him and for us.The syllabus was not perfect, and Dick's health ebbed and flowed throughout, and yet—as the course itself progressed—it evolved into the very thing he was hoping for, which was pragmatism as a living, evolving movement. He read and added new work from a colleague examining Black feminist pragmatism and its relationship to the Movement for Black Lives, adding a full session dedicated to it. On certain days, when his breath was weak, he asked me to lead our discussions, which took on more of an almost jazz-like character—my classmates and I riffing off each other as we tried to wrestle with concepts such as DuBois's color line against the backdrop of gentrification in our own neighborhoods. When I decided to run a progressive stack for our discussions on feminism, Dick replied, "Good for you!" and enthusiastically used the hand-raising function, patiently waiting his turn.At the end of the semester, he seemed to be feeling better—his voice was strong and his eyes were bright during our final session. He conveyed his sense that, despite his recurring lament that we did not have more time (he had always envisioned the course as two semesters, or sometimes two full years), the seminar had achieved what he had wanted to achieve: "Philosophy has come alive." A return to philosophy, "not just as a discipline to master, but something to be caught up in; the excitement of dealing with life—a return to a genuine Socratic conception of philosophy."I am sure many of you may know that Dick wrote his dissertation on Dewey. What you may not know is that he originally wanted to write it on Plato. (Phaedrus was his favorite.) But once he sat down, he realized he did not want to write something about Plato that, as he said... (shrink)

continent. 1.4 (2011): 240—241. “Pirogenetico, Pirogenetico”, 2009 Installation composée de deux tables en métal et trois blocs d’obsidienne et leur moulages. © Coll.Centre Pompidou / Distr. RMN I'm not so sure that art is so ambiguous. I just think it's not linguistic. It's more full and complex than language— we can experience it but not explain it. —Jimmie Durham(1) Jimmie Duraham is an American artist of Cherokee descent. He’s a visual artist and a political activist for the American Indian (...) Movement. Pirogenetico pirogenetico (2009) was recently installed at the Centre Pompidou as part of their “New Presentation of the Contemporary Collections.” His work is replete with wild ideas shaped by a sage, unpretentious impulse and an automatic responsibility to history, particularly his own Cherokee history. Confident from instability, and free from pedagogical language, he strings form and words together that sharply pierce the atmosphere of ideology. Durham doesn’t follow a line and he doesn’t depend on the scaffold of language, but the work makes a remarkable point. Pirogenetico, pirogenetico is a collection of three obsidian rocks, cut and then cast as a double in German silver. Each threesome sits on its own low metal table, forming a diptych. The cut of the original follows the shattering nature of obsidian, which Durham undercuts and monumentalizes in the double. The derivative double and its mannered original: they are nearly too beautiful but still can’t deny the violence. If Durham’s irony, his edge, is obscured by the volume of his forms, it’s reactivated in a video on the adjacent wall where the obsidian cuts through a heart organ. Durham’s syntax is spare. He knows that language isn’t big enough to tell the story, reminding us, as Lacan stated, “I always speak the truth. Not the whole truth... because saying it all is impossible: words fail.”(2) In place of language Durham uses an alternative accuracy that compounds history with the present, a mashup of material things, a collision of aesthetics that shakes down conventional wisdom, replacing it with searing poetry. NOTES (1) Heyokamagazine. “ Jimmie Durham: The Pursuit of Happiness .” (2) Lacan, Jacques. Television: A Challenge to the Psychoanalytic Establishment . Ed. Joan Copjec. Trans. Dennis Hollier, Rosalind Kraus, and Annette Michelson. (New York: Norton, 1990). p. 18. (shrink)

The orientation and leadership of the revolutionary “renewal of the German mind,” whose witnesses and participants we are, point in two directions. On, after seizing power, would like to talk the mind into helping out with internal development and promises it a golden age if it joins up; indeed it even offers it the prospect of a certain voice in decision making. The other direction, on the contrary, attests its mistrust of the intellect by declaring that the revolutionary process will (...) continue indefinitely, and has room for the mind in its task; or it might also assure the intellect that it is not needed at all because a new mind has already turned up, and that the old one might as well jump into the fire and either burn to ashes or purify itself into its elements. What has happened up to the moment these words are being written leaves no doubt that the second direction is on the march, the first its musical accompaniment. Nor can it be otherwise than that a Movement [National Socialism] that has manifested itself so powerfully demands above all that the intellect complete assimilate and subordinate itself to the Movement. But then again, it is possible that the intellect cannot do this without renouncing itself. Surely there must be some sort of boundary here, since nothing happens that is not contingent; so it is a good test for the intellect that today it has everywhere been saddled with a kind of kangaroo-court mentality that judges it not according to its own laws, but according to the law of the Movement. Robert Musil made a decisive contribution to twentieth-century European literature. Among his works available in English are Young Törless, Posthumous Papers of a Living Author, and The Man Without Qualities. Burton Pike is professor of comparative literature at the Graduate School of the City University of New York. With Sophie Wilkins, he has edited and translated a new edition of Musil’s novel The Man without Qualities, available in 199. He is the author of Robert Musil: An Introduction to His Work and The Image of the City in Modern Literature . David S. Luft teaches modern European intellectual history at the University of California, San Diego. He is the author of Robert Musil and the Crisis of European Culture, 1880-1912. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Pictorial World of the ChildEllen Handler SpitzThe Pictorial World of the Child, by Maureen Cox. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005, 357 pp., paper.Scholarly, informative, and impartial are adjectives that spring to mind with respect to Maureen Cox's book, The Pictorial World of the Child, a text principally but not exclusively devoted to the subject of children's drawings and to ways in which children seem to understand pictorial (...) representations as well as create them. Because of its clarity and comprehensiveness, this book seems well-suited for classroom use. Effectively organized into a cogent selection of significant subtopics, it summarizes and presents a vast array of contributions by colleagues whose work Cox surely respects and treats in an admirably evenhanded way. Since, as she states at the beginning of her book, a serious scholarly interest in children's pictures has been with us for over a century, her task is prodigious, and she accomplishes it with grace and precision. It is perhaps to her credit that Cox does not argue passionately on one side or another of a host of thorny issues in her field about which many scholars, teachers, and theorists seem to exhibit strong one-sided views. How should art be taught to young children, for example? Should they be given total freedom or required to perform an ordered set of tasks? In every case, Cox offers her readers a panoply of perspectives and invites them to entertain the spectrum of opinion and then decide for themselves or not.The book is written, therefore, as far as I can tell, to promulgate no particular thesis of any kind. It simply is what it purports to be, namely, an overview of the field by someone who has a deep knowledge of it. It informs and educates through its systematic citation of experimental situations, test results, evaluations, neurological research, art historical material, and the like, and, while acknowledging disagreements right and left, it does not enter into philosophical debate. If one were inclined to fault the book at all, one might criticize it for this—that is, for lacking sufficient skepticism and deep questioning. But surely that would be niggardly, for nowhere does Cox state philosophizing to be her purpose in these pages. I would argue, in fact, to the contrary—that Cox underestimates herself when she states as her principal aim merely the furthering of interest in and appreciation of children's drawings (7). To my mind, she goes far beyond that modest goal to enlighten and educate her readers.Let me give some examples of Cox's treatment of controversial topics. It is arguable, for example, as to whether or not young children understand representational duality and can tell the difference between a pictured representation and the object pictured. A broad spectrum of research, claims, and beliefs are citable on both sides here, with the most up-to-date [End Page 110] scholars being persuaded that young children are far more sophisticated than we had previously thought. But conjure up, if you will, on the other side that well-known photograph in which a baby holds a picture of a clock to his ear and tries to hear it ticking. (This image, subtitled "How they read it," was printed on the jacket of Mary Calderone and Edward Steichen's The First Picture Book of 1930, which was reissued by the Frances Mulhall Achilles Library at the Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, in 1991.) After citing numerous sources and experiments, Cox equivocates as follows: "It seems that young children may know the difference between a picture and the real object it represents, but their behaviour is often confusing" (25); to me, this seems exactly right. We simply cannot accept a blanket statement meant to cover all cases, and, as with many or even most of the topics under consideration in this book, there are no definitive answers. Thus, the fact that Cox chooses to present intriguing research but leave the conclusions open seems preferable to joining sides in a spurious debate and one, perforce, with huge cultural and historical contingencies, contingencies to which indeed she pays heed from time to time... (shrink)

Are they needed? To be sure. The Darwinian industry, industrious though it is, has failed to provide texts of more than a handful of Darwin's books. If you want to know what Darwin said about barnacles (still an essential reference to cirripedists, apart from any historical importance) you are forced to search shelves, or wait while someone does it for you; some have been in print for a century; various reprints have appeared and since vanished." -Eric Korn,Times Literary Supplement (...) Charles Robert Darwin (1880-1882) has been widely recognized since his own time as one of the most influential writers in the history of Western thought. His books were widely read by specialists and the general public, and his influence had been extended by almost continuous public debate over the last 130 years. New York University Press' edition makes it possible for the first time to review Darwin's public literary output as a whole, plus his scientific journal articles, his private notebooks, and his correspondence. This is the first complete edition containing all of Darwin's published books, featuring definitive texts recording original paginations with Darwin's indexes retained. All illustrations and plates are presented, inclucing 82 color plates of birds and mammals and several folding maps and plates. The set also features a general introduction and index, and textural introductions in each volume. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Office of Scientific IntegrityDavid P. Hamilton (bio)For most of the 1980s, the specter of scientific fraud popped into public view every few years, usually only to submerge again. Faced with several well-publicized cases of scientists who blatantly faked their data—among the best-known being Harvard cardiologist John Darsee (whose colleagues watched him forge data) (Broad and Wade 1982, p. 14) and Sloan-Kettering Institute immunologist William Summerlin (who painted black (...) spots on white mice to simulate tissue grafts) (Broad and Wade 1982, p. 155)—the scientific community as a whole tended to dismiss the phenomenon as the work of a few deviants. Called in 1981 to testify before then-Representative Albert Gore Jr.'s subcommittee on investigations and oversight, Philip Handler, then-president of the National Academy of Sciences, told the panel that science was perfectly capable of regulating itself, and that the problem of scientific fraud had been "grossly exaggerated" by the press (Broad and Wade 1982). The message was clear: Congress should stick to its knitting, and science would take care of itself.Now, however, scientists are faced with a very different situation: a permanent federal bureaucracy, known as the Office of Scientific Integrity (OSI), devoted to the investigation of alleged scientific wrongdoing. The transition from the days of laissez-faire, when universities were entrusted with all investigations unless they were handled so badly that the federal government was forced to take notice, has been an uncomfortable one for many researchers. Lately, this discomfort has taken shape as a vocal protest against OSI. Largely as a result of this protest, federal officials recently promoted a plan to restructure OSI and change some of its operating procedures, a move with unpredictable consequences for universities and researchers alike.OSI was born largely because of investigations by two influential congressmen: Representatives John Dingell of Michigan and Ted Weiss of New York. While both claimed they acted mainly to make sure taxpayer dollars were not spent on fraudulent research, both also maintained a strong interest in protecting "whistleblowers," the often vulnerable, and usually junior, scientists who first raise questions about bad research. And Dingell seemed to take special pleasure in pointing up the deficiencies of investigations run by universities and by the National Institutes of Health (NIH) itself. (For reasons that are not well understood, [End Page 171] biomedical research seems far more prone to fraud than any other field of science. As a result, NIH, which funds most biomedical research in the United States, has held ultimate responsibility for most prominent cases of fraud.) Plagued as they often were by conflicts of interest, shoddy methodologies, and, in some cases, a willingness to believe any excuse by the accused, no matter how far-fetched, these investigations made easy targets. And the notion that science could "govern itself" grew harder to sustain.In late 1988, Dingell and other congressmen began circulating draft bills that would have created a new office for investigating scientific fraud. Dingell would have placed such an office under the aegis of the Inspector General of the Department of Health and Human Services, raising the possibility that scientific fraud might be probed by the same criminal investigators who unravel Medicare fraud. Unsettled by this vision of the "science police," NIH officials moved quickly to pre-empt Congress. On March 16, 1989, they published a notice in the Federal Register announcing the creation of OSI, an office with responsibility for ensuring thorough university investigations of misconduct and the authority to conduct its own investigations when necessary.From the beginning, OSI took an unusual approach to its work. For one thing, the office had a broad mandate: Although located within NIH, it was responsible for research funded throughout the entire Public Health Service, including the Food and Drug Administration, the Alcohol, Drug, and Mental Health Administration, and the Centers for Disease Control. Furthermore, it was not restricted to scientific fraud. Departmental lawyers, wishing to avoid the legal connotations of the term "fraud"—in particular, a requirement that fraudulent actions not only mislead others but also cause them noticeable harm—decided instead to adopt the term "scientific misconduct," defined as "fabrication, falsification, plagiarism, or other practices that deviate... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Democracy, Culture, Catholicism: Voices from Four Continents eds. by Michael J. Schuck and John Crowley-BuckSteven P. MilliesDemocracy, Culture, Catholicism: Voices from Four Continents Edited by Michael J. Schuck and John Crowley-Buck NEW YORK: FORDHAM UNIVERSITY PRESS, 2016. 350 pp. $105.00 / $35.00Democracy, Culture, Catholicism is the product of a three-year, international project that started from a less specific inspiration. Originally begun at Loyola University Chicago's Joan and (...) Bill Hank Center for the Catholic Intellectual Heritage in 2010 as a broad inquiry into the relationship between the Roman Catholic Church and politics, the project leaders eventually took a different bearing from events as diverse as the Arab Spring, the Occupy Movement, and Pope Benedict XVI's encyclical Caritas in Veritate to focus their project more squarely on democracy. Examining democracy from within the diverse experiences found in Lithuania, Peru, Indonesia, and the United States, the editors [End Page 208] present us with a valuable snapshot of where the Catholic engagement with democracy as a cultural expression finds itself today in a global perspective.Given the amount of material at play, the volume is a monumental achievement, if only for the clarity with which it presents its findings. Some essays are stronger than others. Still, the volume benefits tremendously from an apparent and unusual amount of editorial attention that sequences the essays and interrelates them with useful references to one another in such a way that Democracy, Culture, Catholicism escapes entirely the fate of so many volumes of collected essays. Here, the reader has the sensation of reading one coherent narrative, not twenty-three disparately connected, individual essays. This alone is impressive.The volume possesses other strengths. Reflections emerge throughout that engage the deeper questions of democracy. Who are these people making decisions together? How can we understand the composition of a political community? Too much democratic theory overlooks the complex interweaving of history, memory, and identity that operates like a substrate of our consciousness beneath our reason while we are presuming ourselves to be rational decision makers using democratic procedures. The book's engagement not just with democracy and Catholicism but also with culture is important. These essays treat culture not only in different local expressions but also (and in a way that is deep, serious, and sustained) as a phenomenon of consciousness.The American perspective always lurks in the narrative, threatening to dominate. This is inevitable not only because the project was managed in the United States but also because the polarizing obsessions of the church in the United States about how to acknowledge the norms of modern political arrangements have tended to dominate conversation in the church worldwide. The editors have shrewdly chosen to save the United States for the last part of this volume, allowing other voices to come forward first to claim their own space. This editorial decision, like so many others, improves the volume and keeps the narrative in good balance. Still, some questions linger in this reviewer's mind as the volume concludes.What do we mean by democracy? Throughout, the authors treat this as a question that is largely settled. Democracy is identified with democratic values that the church accepts, and in Schuck's words, what is under way is "a critical conversation with the culture of democracy" (330). Yet procedural democracy cannot be severed from these values. Are democratic norms and values vindicated when majorities choose undemocratic values? A more careful drawing of distinctions between democracy, liberalism, and republicanism would expose the inner conflicts in which Catholicism meets modern political norms.Perhaps most urgently for the subject matter of this book, are the claims of Catholic social teaching and Christian ethics a foundation for the democratic, participatory values of this secular age, as writers like Charles Taylor and David [End Page 209] Walsh have suggested? This also would raise questions about how culturally conditioned we should understand democracy to be, surely an important consideration for this very fine study.Steven P. MilliesCatholic Theological UnionCopyright © 2018 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A Trial of PatienceChristopher LewisIt seemed like after two weeks, my “flu” symptoms should have resolved. I was not eating, could not hold anything down, and had no energy. It was easy enough for my pediatrician at the time to attribute this to a common virus. This was not sitting well with my parents, however. My mother decided to take me to the emergency room and get me evaluated (...) there. The doctors there assessed me and sent me back home with a medication to help with the nausea. Later that evening, my mom gave me that medication, and it caused a seizure. She called 911, and I was brought by ambulance to the hospital. After an extensive workup, it was determined I was in liver failure related to an aneurysm in my hepatic artery. I was going to require a liver transplant if I were to live. I had to be transferred to another hospital in New York from the hospital near our home in Connecticut. I do not remember any of the details leading up to this after the seizure. I do not remember being told I needed a liver transplant and I do not remember going into surgery.My memories of these events start after the surgery. What I remember is being in the pediatric ICU and being told my mother was able to donate part of her liver to me. I had quite a lengthy recovery after this point. I spent about two months in the hospital and then went to a rehab facility where I would have to learn how to walk again and regain my strength.By the time I was discharged from the rehab facility, I had missed the last half of my 5th-grade year. By the time I was able to return to school, it was already several months into 6th grade. Slowly but surely, life was returning to normal. I was able to get back to doing the things an eleven-year-old should be doing. For twelve years after this initial transplant, I was in great health, my transplant team was happy with how I was doing, and I just required annual checkups after a while. Unfortunately, I saw as a child how fast things can change. This was once again the case. [End Page 126]I was in my last week of college classes, just about to finish my Bachelor’s degree in nursing and looking forward to starting my career as a nurse in the neuro ICU. However, I once again became acutely ill with seemingly flu-like symptoms. After a few days of dealing with these symptoms, my mother brought me to the emergency room. When we got to the emergency room, they did some initial testing and told me I would need to be admitted for antibiotic therapy. The first thought that came to my mind was, “Would I be able to be discharged in time to take my final exams next week?”Once I arrived in my hospital room, I met with my transplant team. They delivered the grave news. The imaging they had done showed that the graft artery from my original liver transplant as a child had failed. The graft had thrombosed and I had infected bilomas in my liver. Now, twelve years later, I would need to be re-listed for another transplant. I was devastated and in disbelief. I recall telling my mother, who was with me at the time, that we should hold off on telling my dad, thinking this could not be possible, and we shouldn’t worry him over something that was not necessarily true. Unfortunately, however, this was my reality. I would go on to wait a little over two years for the perfect liver from a deceased donor.The road to being listed and ultimately having a repeat transplant was not without its challenges and bumps in the road. About three months into my two-year wait for a liver transplant, I received my first offer for a liver. I went through all of the pre-op preparation and the next morning went into the OR and underwent anesthesia. However, I... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Scars of the Spirit: The Struggle Against InauthenticityChristopher S. SchreinerScars of the Spirit: The Struggle Against Inauthenticity, by Geoffrey Hartman; xii & 260 pp. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002. $17.95 paper.Geoffrey Hartman is now an emeritus faculty member at Yale. All but the youngest readers of this journal will recognize him as a member of the now defunct Yale School of Criticism, which in its glory days (...) included Harold Bloom, Hillis Miller, Paul de Man, and Jacques Derrida. Among these accomplished individuals, Hartman distinguished himself as the one most engaged with discussing the role of style in theoretically propelled criticism, and this remains his lasting contribution. The question he kept asking was the following: what demands do the books we read and the theories we use make on our own critical practice, and in particular, on our style? Works such as Criticism in the Wilderness (1980) and Saving the Text (1981) were concerned with promoting a philosophical criticism that is as creative as the literature it seeks to criticize, in opposition to the Arnoldian standard of a disinterested criticism that respects and preserves the canonical hauteur of literary classics and doesn't seek to imitate them. Yet over the decades Hartman's own prose, except when it lapsed into copying Derrida's, seemed more that of the Doctor and less the Explorer, to borrow the terms Lionel Trilling used to describe Matthew Arnold's criticism. This is an irony we are grateful for.Hartman's most recent book, Scars of the Spirit, takes up the problem of authenticity in the context of postmodern culture, seeking to reestablish its legitimacy as a serious topic and unmask what merely poses as authentic in the global marketplace. Today his agenda ignominiously crosses paths with the likes of Jane Fonda, whose autobiography is replete with New Age claims to recover "the authentic me." One of the issues never resolved by Hartman's book and which taunts his project behind its back is whether his Continental erudition makes his project any more authentic than Fonda's celebrity psychobabble. Authenticity was the Heideggerian concept that Adorno ruthlessly and ironically attacked in his The Jargon of Authenticity, and it has an old-fashioned existential ring to it to this day. For those readers who haven't read Being and Time lately, authenticity (Jemeinigkeit) was the resolute impetus of making time one's own, taking it back from the instrumental public world that had appropriated it so that one can live a sincerely mortal life and die one's own death, as it were properly. Professors valiantly conjured an ethic out of this retrieval of selfhood, of one's personal property of time and destiny in the Lost and Found of culture, not fully cognizant of its Nietzschean roots. The absence of altruism in this existential ethic inspired Emmanel Levinas's patient attempt to persuade us to demote our egoism in an insatiable responsibility to and for others, for whom we can never do enough.There is surely irony in the fact that the anachrony of authenticity as a concept was accelerated by the deconstructive theory that Hartman helped [End Page 501] promulgate. Hence his new book reads a bit like someone having to gingerly retrace his steps in a field of landmines planted by the Yale School of Criticism. The question of propriety, what is right and proper, what is one's own, stamped with one's unique or authentic properties, was deconstructed by Derrida, and Hartman reverently recorded the results in the incongruously titled Saving the Text, an analysis of Derrida's attempt to promote textual intercourse between Hegel and Jean Genet by setting them in parallel columns on one page. In a nutshell, the original source of an event or text, its material advent, is untraceable due to its derivativeness, the forces of semiosis (or textuality) at play in and between texts. In parallel to this discovery, Jean Baudrillard spoke of the simulacrum as a media-generated version behind which the original "thing itself" was forever irrecoverable. The very idea of authenticity came to sound illusory, denoting a mirage sought in a hopeless regressive inquiry or Ruckfrage which Husserl (with... (shrink)

When tennis fan Jane Bronstein attended the 1995 U.S. Open she probably knew there was a remote chance her image would end up on television screens around the world. But she surely did not know she was at risk of becoming the object of worldwide attention on the David Letterman Show. As it happened, Letterman spotted an unflattering clip from the U.S. Open showing a heavyset Bronstein with peach juice dripping down her chin. Not only did he show the footage (...) six times that fall, but he ridiculed her on his “Top 10 List,” calling her a “seductive temptress,” even paying to put the clip on the Sony Jumbotron electronic billboard at Time Square. Ms. Bronstein sued David Letterman’s production company under New York civil rights law for violating her privacy. (shrink)

The greatest intensity of “live” life is captured from as close as possible in order to be borne as far as possible away. Jacques Derrida. Echographies of Television . Rainer Ganahl has made a study of studying. As part of his extensive autobiographical art practice, he documents and presents many of the ambitious educational activities he undertakes. For example, he has been videotaping hundreds of hours of solitary study that show him struggling to learn Chinese, Arabic and a host of (...) other languages. The stacked boxes of tapes are then presented like minimalist monoliths, dense archives of effort. About fifteen years ago, Ganahl began photographing the lectures that he attends. At the time, he hadn’t seen anyone else doing it, so besides his spare selection of images of the speaker and the audience, much of the time the lectures would just pass into memory, undocumented, or recorded in writing alone. Since then, he has felt the transition to digital cause a significant shift in his process. At the same time, he has seen the habit become ubiquitous as others photograph, record, and videotape the lectures all around him. In keeping with the theme of this inaugural issue of continent. , can we propose each small grouping of photographs that result an isthmus stretching between two disparate bodies of mind? The first being the body of the lecture as spelled out in the title of each work – the experience of the event in all its constituent parts. The second is the body of the recipient, the listener, in this case an artist, who plays a minimal role just beyond the prescripted behavior of sitting and listening. He uses a gesture of documentation to draw a line between himself and the event, creating an artwork. Františka + Tim Gilman: As we mentioned before, the theme of the magazine for this issue is "isthmus." It seems like a very good way into your work, and it leads us to ask what connection you see between your photographs of the lecture and the lecture itself? Rainer Ganahl: The relationship is of course a concrete, pictorial one, or if you want a mimetic one but also an abstract one because the photographs carry the title of the lecture, the names of the lecturers, the site, the institution and the time of the lecture. Photos are fixed moments of time and can reproduce images displayed and reproduce visuals presented at a moment but they don’t come with time based recordings that video or sound takes are offering. What remains of a lecture is usually just the memory, some notes and all the announcements of it. In my case I end up with a visual product I declare as my artwork. It might not differ from any snapshot taken by any other student or member of the audience but I do this in a semi-systematic way with certain rules and procedures I have set up. While I am at a lecture I am mainly focusing on the lecture itself. Last night I went to one of Slavoj Žižek which demanded quite some concentration. I even was asking him a question at the end. I took photos as well but still didn’t lose track of the lecture. I didn’t walk around, I was not preoccupied by where I was sitting and what light I was having like some of the other photographing and filming people in the room who came and left, moved around and tried to capture him from this and that angle, from close and far. I just sat there and concentrated on the lecture and yet managed to take about 30 or so images of him, the public around me and of the film clips he presented. Once the lecture is over the story changes: it all becomes a question of the images, their selection, their visual qualities, their labeling and archiving. The function of the images also change: not only do they stand for an intellectual event in a row of lectures that become part of my intellectual history within many possible such histories but they also have to function as art, something not everybody else with images of lecturers demands of their images. This is my specific claim as an artist to impose them as artworks. And as with all artistic propositions the offer can be accepted or rejected. I basically spend my life trying to do exactly that: making what I declare as art, offering something to anybody interested in it as my art, an offer that is not and will never be accepted as such by all people. F+T: What are your criteria for selection, i.e. how do you choose which lectures to photograph, by lecturer, by topic, or do you photograph any and every lecture you can? RG: As everything in my life, I go by my interest which is the result of many factors. If I am aware of a lecturer, read his books or appreciate his works my interest of attending his much higher than if I am not aware of it. I usually don’t go to lecturers simply based on their subjects—something that can happen of course, if the subject, the title of the lecture is promising or at the heart of my interest. Sometimes I also wait for years to get a change to photograph certain people but I do that in a very low-level “keep your ears up” mentality and not in a systematic scanning of all channels and possibilities. I do not go into philosophy departments and photograph everybody teaching there. I go with the flow—and unfortunately a great deal of great talks I also miss because I hear too late of them. Often, I also stumble into them by traveling, by getting emails from friends and by simply being in the right spot at the right time. Somehow you could look at my lecture par cours as some kind of loose intellectual flâneurism . If you know of interesting lectures and events, please, let me know. F+T: Is your selection of images more of a production or post-production method? That is, do you take a lot of photos and select only a few images from each lecture, or do you take them very selectively? Do you have a particular methodology for the selection of images? RG: This all changed a bit with the arrival of digital photography. In the beginning I had to pay a lot of money for film developing. Hence, I was taking either one role - 36 images - or half a role - 13 images - depending on who talked and whether they projected images. With the unlimited capacity of digital imaging I easily end up between 30 and 150 images of one event still depending of whether images are presented or not. In the first years of that project when I wasn’t fully aware yet of what I was doing, I printed at least 2 images of any lecture and sometimes three or even four, a choice that was also constrained by costs. But again, since I have a web site and since images can easily be selected and presented on my web site without generating remarkable costs I have now more and more pain to reduce them to less than ten or eight images for an event. Now, before I have them printed which really is expensive, I can present them already as artwork on my web site without any immediate costs. Thus the economic factor is at the end of the chain which enables me to be more ‘generous’ and include more images. Over the last years I have been mostly selecting at least four photographs for a lecture unit but recently also as many as ten. But so far only one set above four images has been actually printed and sold. What might sound even more shocking is the likely fact that if a curator or a collector demands me to reduce the number of images due to costs, I might compromise at this current stage if the images have not been yet printed or published outside my own web site. This means that to a certain degree any selection that has only seen publication on my web site and not yet been produced runs the risk to change in numbers of images included. Needless to say, I am the last one that finally makes a decision and I do honor all given earlier decision if those were final. F+T: How do you feel the act of photographing the lecture affects your reception of the contents of the lecture? And your recollection afterwards, do you remember the lecture more having photographed it, or just having sat and listened? RG: As mentioned above, I get very little distraction from photographing since I can multitask well and do not obsess about the quality of the image: I photograph from where I am and listen with my ears and not my eyes. I am not sure whether the images serve as a mnemonic devise to the content of the lecture if there are no images involved but they at least remind me that the lecture existed, the title of the lecture and the name of the people and institutions involved. The titles of the hundreds of lectures I took during the past 15 years can also be read as an essay of theoretical life in that period. This will be come more and more visible as time passes by. These images age much better than I do. F+T: You mentioned at the outset of our discussions that you started this practice some time ago and have seen the practice of photographing lecturers become more commonplace. Why do you think that this shift has taken place? RG: The answer is very simple. Photographing is now free of any charge and hence omnipresent. You buy a phone or any other personal digital assistant and it has a camera integrated in it whether you want it or not. There is no need to develop images and there is no hassle to keep images, to distribute images, to organize images and save them. It is all virtual, not creating any costs and doesn’t require any efforts. You don’t spend twenty dollars for photo-developing anymore, you don’t need to walk anymore to your pharmacy or your photo shop to drop off and return to pick up and pay. You don’t need to go to the post office to send somebody a picture. You have a program like Photoshop already built into your camera. Photographing is now a thing for everybody—with functioning cameras made for two year olds. It is technically now nearly impossible to make bad images. The image quality is virtually guaranteed by cheap, high performing, mini-computers packed into miniscule cameras. With all these technological changes, we are undergoing now a cultural paradigm shift that includes permanent recording (not only still image taking) of everything. I wonder even whether babies are just born to be photographed—at least a process where the first photograph is right there. What is interesting now, is how the law is trying to catch up. I am experiencing and expecting more restrictions on photographing and recording—something already in place in many museums and in certain galleries—as the recording devices become more and more invisible and undetectable. It is an interesting cat and mouse play and will end up with some of us that are photographing the world around us in court. The world has become very transparent and everybody is contributing to it with social networking technologies—like twitter and Facebook—that are designed to monitor and communicate every step we make in our lives. F+T: Why did you start the practice? As a way to remember, or to capture the experience of the lecture and the environment there? RG: A couple of years earlier I started to photograph my own reading seminars as part of my art work with results that surprised me positively. I really liked these images of students and people discussing heavy non-fiction with me. The reading seminars justified this kind of pictorialism. Then in 1995 I had the chance to attend an entire seminar by Edward Said entitled “The Representation of Intellectuals at Columbia University,” which really gave me the idea to start this series. Why not also photograph these lectures I visit all the time since this really is a way of representing intellectuals? F+T: The constellation of images and the title seem like a kind of portrait, do you agree? If so, is it a portrait of the speaker, of yourself, or of the event? RG: Well, to follow up on the previous question the lectures are more than just portraits of lecturers since I include not only the speakers but also the audience, an audience that is not named or specifically highlighted as is the speaker. So if we stick with the metaphor of the portrait we would have to extend it also to the environment, the class room, the lecture hall, the arrangements of seats or benches, tables, lecture stands and other stuff typically seen on my images. Often the walls are decorated or even tagged with graffiti or posters and other stuff. There is a big difference between a small seminar room at the English Department of Columbia University, full with books and cabinets and a lecture room at a Paris or Frankfurt university that accommodates 50 to 150 people. We should, maybe, also distinguish between lectures that are one time events—mostly open to the public, free of charge or paid—and events that are weekly, closed to the public and held mostly in universities that can cost fortunes or be paid by the State as it is still predominantly the case in continental Europe. All this, of course, is not necessarily announced in the title of the lecture and is subject to information that isn’t visible on the images. To a certain degree we see also portraits of a general privilege when it comes to the public of certain institutions that are highly selective and extremely costly without forgetting that most of the lectures are dealing with theory, art, philosophy and other highbrow subjects. In general, I would say we see very little if we don’t know already what’s going on, who the lecturer, the institutions, the context are in which we subsequently can zoom into variants like sexual, racial, or age-related make-up without ignoring clothing fashions, hair styling, body mannerisms, gadgets and stuff. F+T: Do you see a relation between this body of work and your other work, for example your language studies? RG: Everything I do is “unfortunately” related. I say unfortunately because this makes my work not so easy to grasp. The relationship to the language studies is relatively clear since both are originally grounded in the domain of education and knowledge production. Nearly all my work comes across that nexus where knowledge and power are addressed. I was at one point wondering what the relationship was to some of my earlier indexical work where I was happy alone with footnotes from books painted on the walls: I came to understand that both are just different manifestations of knowledge and information. F+T: Do you foresee continuing the series indefinitely, or is there an end to it? RG: I think that I will continue this series indefinitely or to be more precise, as long as I go listen to lectures and want to learn something which brings me to your previous question: What do the reading seminars, language studies, historical research and lecture hopping have in common: I learn something. Further Reading Rainer Ganahl’s website William Kaizen. “ Vulgar Politics .” art&education . April 2009. Web. Smith, Roberta. “ Rainer Ganahl: ‘Language of Emigration & Pictures of Emigration .’” New York Times April 23 2010. Web. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Kierkegaard on Faith and LoveDaniel WhistlerSharon Krishek. Kierkegaard on Faith and Love. Modern European Philosophy. Cambridge-New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009. Pp. xiii + 201. Cloth, $90.00.Contemporary scholarship on Kierkegaard is frequently confronted by two problems. First, there is the question of Kierkegaard’s worldliness: does Kierkegaard have anything substantial to say about politics, society, and the ethical dilemmas of intersubjective existence? Second, there remains the perennial problem (...) of the rhetorical singularity of Kierkegaard’s writings: can anything conceptually coherent be salvaged from the panoply of pseudonyms, indirections, and ironies? And, if so, to what extent do such abstractions falsify the richness of a particular text? The virtue of Krishek’s Kierkegaard on Faith and Love is that it answers both these questions in a radical and challenging manner. To the problem of worldliness, Krishek responds by insisting on the presence of a disposition to “full concreteness” or “a full return to the world” in Kierkegaard’s account of love (128). In answer to the problem of rhetorical singularity, Krishek embraces Kierkegaard’s incoherence, so as to affirm Fear and Trembling against Works of Love (or “Kierkegaard versus Kierkegaard,” as she puts it on p. 138).Kierkegaard on Faith and Love is a sustained investigation into the status and structure of love in Kierkegaard’s corpus. It thus takes its place alongside Evans’s Kierkegaard’s Ethics of Love (Oxford, 2004), Ferreira’s Love’s Grateful Striving (Oxford, 2001), Amy Laura Hall’s Kierkegaard and the Treachery of Love (Cambridge, 2002), Ronald L. Hall’s The Human Embrace (Penn State, 2000), and Mooney’s Love and Faith in Kierkegaard (Indiana, 2008) as one more contribution to the recent explosion of literature on the subject. However, Krishek is distinctive in limiting her scope to romantic love alone; she steadfastly reconstructs [End Page 302] a Kierkegaardian phenomenology of romantic attitudes toward the beloved—the proper and improper modes of comportment when in love.The first half of the book is split into three chapters, which together present a hierarchy of these different comportments. The reader passes by inadequate attempts to hold onto the beloved through recollection (chapter 2) and resignation (chapter 3) to arrive at the Kierkegaardian ideal of faithful or “faith-full” love. Modelled on the knight of faith of Fear and Trembling, the faith-full lover accomplishes a double movement in which he resigns himself to the loss of the beloved while simultaneously trusting in her return. Unfortunately, on the way to this ideal, some of the great lovers of Kierkegaard’s writings (Don Juan, the Seducer) are brushed aside in an overly schematic way. This is a shame because they surely have much to teach us about his views on romantic love. Nevertheless, the effect of Krishek’s whistle-stop tour through the aesthetic works is to quickly bring us face to face with Fear and Trembling, in which, she contends, we find a positive model of romantic love. Making the early, pseudonymous Fear and Trembling determinative of Kierkegaard’s conception of love is a bold move, especially in light of the tendency in recent Kierkegaard scholarship to valorize the “rediscovered” religious works. Yet it pays off: Krishek’s choice not only allows a rich and affirmative description of romantic love to emerge; it also sheds light on Fear and Trembling itself, especially the Merman episode.The final three chapters of Kierkegaard on Faith and Love take up the task of justifying this ideal of faith-full love. First, Krishek attempts to show its conceptual plausibility by appealing to non-Kierkegaardian examples: the novel On the Way Home, Kubrik’s Eyes Wide Shut, and Almodóvar’s All About My Mother. Second, she engages at length with existing scholarship, employing the double movement of love abstracted from Fear and Trembling to great effect to overturn the orthodox emphasis on resignation, failure, and asceticism in Kierkegaard’s account of love. Finally, Krishek turns to Works of Love, which is usually regarded as Kierkegaard’s mature and definitive statement of a philosophy of love. She challenges the derogatory attitude Kierkegaard takes therein to romantic or “preferential” love with her more affirmative model drawn from Fear... (shrink)

continent. 2.1 (2012): 2–5 To begin with, as we understand from a remote place like Seoul, there have been two different conceptions of materiality in the Western experimental ?lm history: materiality of cinema and of ?lm. The former has been represented by the practitioners of the so-called the “Expanded Cinema” and the latter by the tradition of the “Hand-made” ?lm. Whereas for the Expanded Cinema, the materiality or the “medium-speci?city” includes not only the ?lm material but also the entire condition (...) and environment in which the cinematic experience is situated (i.e.: screen, projector, audience and theatre); for the Hand-made ?lm, it is the whole ?lmic process prior to the screening in front of the audience (i.e.: hand-processing and optical-printing). The two practices share in the materialist turn that opens up the radical possibilities of aesthetic (and even political) interventions into a process previously considered seamless and transparent. What can be called to attention through the materialist turn includes the aesthetic-institutional process in the projection-spectator relation and the (non-) representational process in ?lm-making. Moreover, these interventions bring their own temporalities back to those processes, and this returning emancipates the temporalities from their subordination to the cinema-as-commodity. Hangjun Lee is a ?lm-based artist whose practice is concerned with Hand-made Film and Experimental Cinema. Given these interests, Lee questions the linkage between materiality and temporality. This was his preoccupation around 2006, the time at which he started to collaborate with Chulki Hong, the noise improviser. The improvisational nature of their audio-visual performances opened means of detouring from the conventional editing techniques. Their collaboration also afforded critical investigations into the performativity of the practices in both the darkroom and the screening room, as well as in the private recording/practicing studio, and public performance spaces for the improvising musician. In fact, it was a kind of common interest shared by both us from the outset. In our collaboration, we avoid sacri?cing/concealing/minimizing one form of performativity (the performative nature and temporality of compositional process) for the sake of the other (i.e. those in improvisational and executional process). In the ?eld of experimental music and sound, this kind of approach has been comprehensively called “cracking” or “hacking”. The concepts are ?nely formulated in the coinage of “Cracked Everyday Electronics” (by Voice Crack) or more generally “Handmade Electronic Music” (by Nicolas Collins). 1 And this was a pure but perhaps necessary coincidence. the original title of the work of our collaboration and, retrospectively, of the set of our working principles at the same time, “The Cracked Share” was named by Lee after Georges Bataille’s masterwork, The Accursed Share , with the substitution of the adjective with “Cracked” as a synonym for ‘reticulated’ in the photographic image. We think the ascetic and subtractive aesthetic turn of the contemporary non-idiomatic improvised (and even somewhat non-improvised) music 2 pushed us further towards more radical dissociation with the empty temporality of commodi?ed audio-visual experience. It can be called the aesthetics of “without,” and exemplars include Yoshihide Otomo’s Turntable Without Records , Sachiko M’s Sampler without Samples . There are also other radical experiments even with the (non-)improvised music without noise and sounds that neatly meet the rules and idioms of the existing/established experimental music. For us, this thread among the experimental music currents weighs in its emphasis on subtractive and dissociational power unique to improvisational action. Surely, the tradition of the Cracked and Handmade improvised music teaches us the crucial lesson that “[m]edia and mediation are never transparent” and that “[m]ediation actively transforms data from one form to another and is never passive.” 3 We couldn’t agree to this statement more. However, without the removal and withdrawal power of improvisation that poses and keeps both subjects (performer and audience) and objects (projector and instrument) in “inferiority,” 4 generalized cracking and hacking practices—or simply “glitch”—in music and visuals would be either sublimated into the mystical and ritualistic forms of “Film Alchemy” and “Noise Music” (to which both of us still strongly feel a belonging but also, more or less, ambivalent sentiments), or else assimilated into the logic of the commodi?ed audio-visual communication. Today in music, this principle of improvisational performativity should be formulated as the dis-organization of sound against the associational de?nition of (electronic) music and it needs to be translated into audio-visual experiences. In other words, cracking practices of free improvisation need not be limited in artistic creativity, in a darkroom, in a studio, or on the stage; the principle of the dis-organization of sound should be the principle of dis-organization (or cracked organization) of audio-visual performance space itself. NOTES 1) Norbert Möslang, “How Does a Bicycle Light Sound?: Cracked Everyday Electronics,” Leonardo Music Journal 14 (2004): 83; Nicolas Collins, Handmade Electronic Music: The Art of Hardware Hacking (New York: Rutledge, 2006). 2) We refer this not to the historical style or genre but rather the idea and practice that ?free improvisation? stands for. On the distinction between idiomatic and non-idiomatic improvisation, see Derek Bailey, Improvisation: Its Nature and Practice in Music (Cambridge, MA: Da Capo, 1993). On radically politico-histrorical interpretations of free improvisation and noise music from various present viewpoints, see Noise and Capitalism , (eds.) Mattin & Anthony Iles (Arteleku Audiolab, 2009). 3) Caleb Kelly, Cracked Media: The Sound of Malfunction (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2009), p. 29. 4) I borrow the term from my long-time collaborator, Choi Joonyong. See Ryu Hankil, Hong Chulki & Choi Joonyong, Inferior Sounds (Balloon and Needle, CD, 2011). (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:84 Reviews THE WAYS OF THE WITTGENSTEINS ACCORDING TO A WAUGH Richard Henry Schmitt U. of Chicago Chicago, il 60637, usa [email protected] AlexanderWaugh. TheHouseofWittgenstein:aFamilyatWar. London: Bloomsbury, 2008. Pp. 366. isbn: 0-7475-9185-7. £20.00 (hb). New York: Doubleday, 2009. Pp. 333. isbn: 0-385-52060-3. us$28.95 (hb). Ezach family is happy and unhappy in its own ways. This is hardly surprising zgiven that the family lies at the crossroad of so much (...) human experience. It is the scene for playing out genetics and for working through the rearing and civilizing of children, both nature and nurture. In economic life it constitutes the primary unit, the household. Despite Tolstoy’s ideal, none can ever be com­ pletely happy for every member all the time. And, there is no reason to think that basically happy families are any more the same than unhappy ones. But then none can ever be completely unhappy; or rather, when a family is com­ pletely unhappy it is unlikely that it will remain one. One other factor, however, intrudes on this picture: we tend to be more interested in bad or scandalous news than good. Vicarious experience brings catharsis, possibly helpful in a way. Yet, as the German language recognizes with the word “Schadenfreudez”, we can experience joy at someone else’s sorrow, despite the questions it raises about our empathy. Alexander Waugh is himself the member of a famous family. He has written December 2, 2009 (5:28 pm) E:\CPBR\RUSSJOUR\TYPE2901\russell 29,1 060 red.wpd E:\CPBR\RUSSJOUR\TYPE2901\russell 29,1 060 red.wpd Reviews 85 its “autobiography” in Fathers and Sons,1 where he is principally concerned with his father Auberon (“Bron”), his grandfather Evelyn, his great-uncle Alec, and his great-grandfather Arthur. Given the family documentation at his disposal and the span of generations, that book covers enough territory, in enough detail, to give us some sense of Waugh family character. You learn what it was like to grow up in the family, down to the odour of Uncle Auberon Herbert’s cologne, “smelling like Cleopatra in her barge on her way to meet Antony for the Wrst time” according to Bron (p. 370, paperback ed.), and the family suspicion that this uncle may have been the illegitimate son of Hilaire Belloc (p. 276). The fathers and sons, from Arthur down to Alexander, all wrote for a living, witty, stylish prose, and sometimes poetry. They especially liked writing about each other in letters, essays, and novels, often to each other in public letters and dedications; and as a consequence Alexander’s book is rich, amusing, intimate, and a bit indiscrete. Arthur’s turn-of-the-century avoidance of emotion in sentimentality grew outmoded, but it was replaced in the family business with newer models, with more Xash and cynicism. When it came to Alexander’s fa­ ther Bron, he was known for his talent at vituperation, and got into verbal and legal scrapes with C. P. Snow and Bertrand Russell among others (p. 407), which led to his getting sacked but only made his journalism more widely read and more valuable to publishers. In Alexander’s disclosure of his family history, there is a sureness of touch that comes from working within his ken. Waugh studied music, and worked as a music critic. In his easy, self-depreci­ ating way, he told an interviewer for The Wall Street Journalz that he got the idea to write this book because of “the most appalling boil on my right index Wnger”. This curtailed his routine enjoyment at the piano, “But then as I sat down and pressed a chord with my left hand I thought of Paul Wittgenstein. I knew about the concerto that Ravel composed for him and I knew that he was Ludwig’s brother. He was bound to have an interesting story.”2 With access to some Witt­ genstein family papers through one of Paul Wittgenstein’s daughters, he began. But a biography of the one-armed pianist soon turned into this “family history”, in part because of the author’s previous success with his own family, but also... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Eternal Present: Slow Knowledge and the Renewal of TimeDouglas E. ChristieA woman is seated in a chair at the center of a large, light-filled atrium. Across from her sits an adolescent girl, Asian or Asian-American, maybe thirteen years old. They are both perfectly still. They look intently at each other. That is all. Minute after minute passes. Neither of them moves. I look more closely. Utter stillness. Not (...) quite repose, for there is a sense of intentionality to their engagement with each other, but deep stillness and calm. I look around the room and see a hundred or so persons also taking in the scene. Everyone is silent, though there are occasional sounds—shoes shuffling on the floor, a cough, a sigh. It takes me a few minutes to understand what is going on, what I am seeing. I feel my own anxiety to place myself somehow in this scene, to find the appropriate categories for grasping what is unfolding before me. I ask a person nearby; he tells me: it’s Marina Abramovic. She is performing “The Artist Is Present,” part of a retrospective of her work at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.1 “Oh,” I say, “thanks.” It’s performance art. Got it. But knowing this only helps a little. What are they doing? What is going on here? What is my part, if any, in what is happening? My mind, as usual, is racing ahead trying to figure it out. Which in this moment I cannot do. So, I pause (inwardly), take a step back and try to reorient myself. I take a breath, then another. I look again at the two figures.Their stillness is uncanny. This is part of what is making me anxious, I think. They are absorbed completely in the simple act of gazing at each other. I smile, thinking at first of the “stare-downs” I used to have with my brother when we were kids. Who would flinch (and fall into uncontrollable laughter) first? It was a game of chicken. With the eyes. Usually it was of short duration, and someone had to lose. This is different. The quality of attention, in particular, feels utterly different. These two are not trying to knock each other off their chairs. No one is trying to “win” at anything. They are, it seems, simply giving themselves to the work of beholding and being beheld. Extraordinary. I am not sitting in the chair. But I feel a jolt run through my body as I begin to feel the depth and power of this moment. The sense of nakedness, of naked abandon, of vulnerability. What else? Tenderness. Yes, I sense a certain tenderness passing between these two figures. And not just between them. Also touching those of us gathered in the room watching them. How is that possible? We are all [End Page 13] strangers to one another after all. And yet within this space, for these few moments there is a remarkable and palpable sense of intimacy.I am not sure at how long I stand there. But after a while, I feel the need to move, to get some relief from the intensity of this exchange. I leave the room where the artist and her companion are sitting and walk into a nearby gallery. (Later I learn that anyone visiting the museum can occupy the chair opposite the artist and that over the course of the exhibit many, many people do just that.) I am not ready to look at anything else, not yet. I have to gather myself a little first.Eventually, I do begin to take in some of the other art in the museum. But my mind keeps returning to that room and to those two seated figures. During the next couple of hours, I return to the atrium several more times. Each time I do, I am struck by how still these two figures are, how alive. Also how still and alive I feel entering into that space. Those of us beholding the scene are respectful and quiet but also animated, exchanging brief whispers, glances, smiles. We are captivated, enthralled.Suddenly... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Welcome To The Pharmacy: Addiction, Transcendence, and Virtual RealityAnn Weinstone (bio)1. The Question of Addiction and TranscendenceIt has become a truism to say that virtual reality (VR) is addictive. Case, the protagonist of William Gibson’s Neuromancer, dreams of connection to the net like a junkie jonesing for a fix. In Jeff Noon’s novel Vurt, you get to cyberspace by tickling the back of your throat with addictive, government-produced feathers. (...) Verity of Kathleen Ann Goonan’s Queen City Jazz sports nanotechnology implants that compel her to enter virtual worlds into which she sinks with feelings of deep bliss. As in Vurt, in Pat Cadigan’s Synners, everything’s an addiction: cyberspace, people, rock and roll.But let’s move away from fiction. Graphic cyberartist Nicole Stenger, a self-professed neo-Platonist, writes, “[a]nd what if the passage to a new level of humanity actually meant abolishing indeed the natural one, or at least some part of it?... Will it not require immense effort to recover from this enhancement of the senses, from this habit of perfection? [Stenger 57]. Michael Benedikt, editor of Cyberspace: First Steps, deems VR “a new and irresistible development in the elaboration of human culture and business under the sign of technology” [1; my emphasis]. Ad copy for “Origin,” a VR game, reads, “You must die to learn how to live.... Death is not an option. It’s an addiction.” And an article in the New York Times titled “The Lure and Addiction of Life on Line” displays a graphic of a bespectacled male, tapping away at a computer located inside of a panopticon-sized rendering of a globe to which the avid user is happily chained [see Asciu]. From advertisements to scholarly texts, it is difficult to find any writing about VR that does not engage in and, as I will argue, rely upon the rhetorics of addiction. William Gibson dubbed cyberspace a “consensual hallucination.” That was 1984. In 1996, critic Robert Markley rechristened VR “a consensual cliché” [56]. Surely, the “addictiveness” of cyberspace contributes to the sense of tired familiarity. My question is this: Why does cyberspace have to be addictive? What work is addiction doing in discourses of virtual reality?In this essay, I’m concerned with the production of what might be called hyper-real transcendence. Jean Baudrillard, in his influential schema “three orders of simulacra,” identifies a first, “natural” order in which “a transcendent world, a radically different universe, is portrayed... in contrast to the continent of the real” [309]. I propose that a third-order, hyper-real, transcendence has survived the collapse of the distance between the model and the original. This transcendence relies on rhetorics of disembodiment, [End Page 77] immortality, and extra-human reproductive and generative powers within virtual spaces. Such spaces include scholarly and technical essays about VR or cyberspace, science fiction, advertisements for VR games, VR game narratives, and other advertising copy that borrows from current discourses of virtuality. My discussion takes place in a field crowded with talk of the death of logocentrism and the end of phonocentric culture. 1 Derrida has written that “scientific language [e.g. computer code] challenges intrinsically and with increasing profundity the ideal of phonetic writing” [Grammatology 10], the logocentric relation of voice to mental experiences. Baudrillard writes mournfully that the “third-order” world of simulated simulacra, of hyper-reality, leaves “no room for any kind of transcendentalism” [310]. Baudrillard and Derrida write with differing affects of the same effect—the waning or death of the foundation of Western notions of transcendence. In this tradition, transcendence commences with the penetration of the self by a supra-enlivened Other, whether that other be a king, a god, nature, the voice of logos, the Law, or an abstracted version of vitality itself. Particularly, I question the persistent coupling of rhetorics of transcendence with rhetorics of addiction. My initial point will be that following the established Western logocentric tradition, rhetorical relationships of addiction between VR users and VR narratives are the “software” with which hyper-real transcendence is produced and sustained. In other words, VR demands, as the price of transcendence, that the user become of the medium... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Oxymorons of AnxietyOr the Influence of Baba Ram Dass on Harold BloomRichard Klein (bio)A REVIEW OF Harold Bloom. The Anxiety of Influence (New York: Oxford University Press, 1973).In 1974, when I initially submitted this article to diacritics, it was rejected, despite my being a member of the editorial board. I had previously agreed that the piece should first be sent to Harold Bloom for his reaction; he was (...) not pleased. The editor (and founder of diacritics) judged, I think correctly, that it was better to have Bloom well disposed toward the young journal than not. He had been very generous, since its inception, giving us articles and interviews, and lending his weight to this early attempt to translate French theory into America. I was naturally deflated by the rejection, but since I believe in institutions more than individuals, I acquiesced, gracefully I think. Perhaps I shouldn't have. It has been forty years and in that time Bloom has grown even more dismissive of major theoretical developments and contemptuous of efforts to expand the canon. In his latest work, his "virtual swan song," The Anatomy of Influence: Literature as a Way of Life (2011), he evokes the critical developments long championed by this journal, which have evolved over forty years, and lumps them together as: "what I shall call the New Cynicism (a cluster of critical tendencies which are rooted in French theories of culture and encompass the New Historicism and its ilk)."1 Note the ilk: making alike, in a single cluster of cynicism, what he will not differentiate. Currently, he is motivated to return to his earlier work on influence, "galvanized in part by the New Cynicism's reductio of all literary relationships to base self-interest."2 In The Anatomy of Influence, Bloom returns to the Bloom of The Anxiety of Influence to find and redefine a canonical interpretation of literary relationships that depends from his immense erudition. Against the cynics, he is excited by a nobler, disinterested perspective—a view more universally shared than what might be found, for example, in the pages of diacritics.In any case, I always hoped this article, excerpted from a much longer chapter, would one day be published. I didn't think the moment would wait forty years and for my retirement. For allowing this to see the light and for their kind indulgence of my valedictory vanity, I especially want to thank my colleagues deeply, as well as the editors of the new diacritics.Harold Bloom brings bad news. Geoffrey Hartman calls him a kakangelist; he calls himself a necromancer.3 The news is the death of poetry—an event, as Bloom at moments seems to believe, that began with Milton. Since then, things have only gotten worse and are no way bound to improve. What Bloom is saying may well be no news at all, if poetry in fact and in principle has always been dying, if its death were simultaneous with its birth—its possibility permanently implicated in its impossibility. But, if not what the man is saying, surely the way he kakangelizes, raises the most surprising questions about the possibility of something he continues to want to call "literary criticism." Hartman's carefully poised review neglects to insist on the question of Bloom's style. His opening sentence, however, does proceed straight to enumerate—with no further comment—the unwonted diversity of elements that compose Bloom's short theory of poetry: "Six essays emerge from this dense, eloquent and experiential brooding, flanked by two prose poems, and accompanied by a synoptic introduction and an interchapter on 'Antithetical Criticism.'"4 Hartman pretends to take all this perfectly for granted, as if we were quite prepared to understand, with no explanation, the nature and necessity of something called a synoptic introduction, or the status of an interchapter, or the force of a notion like [End Page 7] antithetical criticism, and, as if we should hardly be surprised to discover, the whole thing quite naturally flanked by two prose poems! Hartman picks up the new style, but for reasons not clearly readable in his text, chooses not to dwell on this most surprising news of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:AQUINAS AS A COMMENTATOR ON DE ANIMA 3.5 JAMES T. H. MARTIN St. John's University Jamaica, New York DOES ST. THOMAS AQUINAS in his commentary on De Anima 3.5 provide an acceptable gloss on Aristotle 's cryptic remarks about active mind? That is, can one accept.that what Aquinas says about active mind is what Aristotle meant but for some reason did not say? Many modern commentators, among them (...) Franz Brentano, Marcel de Corte, Paul Siwek, and Francisco Peccorino, appear to think so and present an interpretation of active mind which agrees substantially with what Aquinas says in his Sententia Libri De Anima (Sent.).1 i Senteiitia Libri De Anima, opera omnia iussu Leonis XIII P.M. edita (Paris: Vrin, for the Leonine Commission, 1984). While he does criticize St. Thomas Aquinas for some statements which " seem to betray a certain lack of clarity concerning the nature of active intellect,'' Franz Brentano awards the first place among earlier commentators on Aristotle's doctrine of active mind to Aquinas : " Indeed, I am not sure whether I should not say that he correctly grasped Aristotle's entire doctrine" (The Psychology of Aristotle: In Particular His Doctrine of Active Intellect, ed. and trans. Rolf George [Berkeley: University of California Press, 1977], p. 155). De Corte holds that the originality of his study consists entirely in combining " all the technical means refined by modern criticism and which the thirteenth century did not have at its disposition " with the " Thomist interpretation of the Aristotelian theory of intelligence," an interpretation with which de Corte agrees, and which he presents as a necessary correction of the errors of modern commentators, who are "more or less instilled with an unconscious Averroism which radically vitiates their power of understanding" (La doctrine de l'intelligence chez Aristote [Paris: Vrin, 1934], p. 2). Siwek notes that "many of St. Thomas's explanations of Aristotelian psychology are altogether consonant with our own explanations,'' and warns his readers against undervaluing Aquinas's views (Aristotelis Tractatus de Anima Graece et Latine, editit, versione latina auxit, commentario illustravit [Rome: Desclee & C.i, 1965], p. 30). Peccorini com621 622 JAMES T. H. MARTIN Aristotle's text is concerned with two minds, "a mind which is such as matter by becoming all things, and another which is such as an active principle by making all things" (430a14-15). What are these minds, and what do they do? The central elements of Aquinas's exegesis of De Anima 3.5 consist in his answers to these questions. He holds that these two minds are " parts or potencies of the soul " (Sent. 3.4. 126). The role of passive mind, the "mind which is such as matter," is to apprehend the intelligible object (Sent. 3.4. 101-2), while that of active mind, the mind " which is such as an active principle by making all things," is to abstract the intelligibles (Sent. 3.4. 103-4), a role which he explains in this way: Active mind makes those things intelligible in act which previously were intelligible in potency. It does this by abstracting them from matter, for in this way they are intelligible in act, as has been said. Aristotle was led to posit an active mind to exclude the opinion of Plato, who held that the natures of sensible things are separated from matter and actually intelligible. Thus for Plato it was not necessary to posit an active mind. But because Aristotle holds that the natures of sensible things are in matter and not actually intelligible, it was necessary that he posit a certain intellect to abstract them from matter and so make them actually intelligible. (Sent. 3.4 50-63) Active mind on Aquinas's reading makes the potentially intelligible forms of sensible things actually intelligible, and in this way these sensible things become objects of thought. If one accepts this role for active mind, one is forced to accept as well, I think, that active mind is part of the soul rather than something separate from the knowing human subject. Aquinas argues this point at length in his commentary on De Anima 3.5. If thinking, the action of the passive mind, is in fact... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:diacritics 33.2 (2005) 42-70 [Access article in PDF] "O Happy Living Things" Frankenfoods and the Bounds of Wordsworthian Natural Piety Anne-Lise François With all the flowers Fancy e'er could feignWho breeding flowers will never breed the same. —John Keats, "Ode to Psyche" And I could wish my days to beBound each to each in natural piety. —William Wordsworth, "My heart leaps up" O happy living things! no tongue Their (...) beauty might declare:A spring of love gusht from my heart, And I bless'd them unaware!Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I bless'd them unaware. —Samuel Taylor Coleridge, "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" "O happy living things!"—vitamin-enriched grains; potatoes equipped to kill their predators; silk-producing goats; fast-growing salmon that hardly require feeding. Is it possible to predicate the breathless exclamation that escapes Coleridge's mariner, unaware not of water snakes but of the fantastic array of genetically modified creatures—animals and plants—currently under design or production by biotech industries? Already in May 2000 a New York Times article was announcing the imminent arrival of "fast-growing trout and catfish, oysters that can withstand viruses, and an 'Enviropig,' whose feces are less harmful to the environment because they contain less phosphorus." An article inset describes the emergent production of "pharm-animals":These domesticated beasts—cows, pigs, goats, sheep, and chickens—have been given the ability to produce pharmaceuticals and other valuable substances in their milk, eggs or semen. Endowed by scientists with foreign genes, often taken from humans, these animals, or bioreactors, as they are also known, earn their keep as living chemical factories. Two companies, the Genzyme Corporation of Cambridge, Mass., and PPL Therapeutics, a Scottish company, already have products from pharm animals being tested in clinical trials supervised by the Food and Drug Administration. Many other animals are [End Page 42] still in the development stage. For example, Nexia Biotechnologies in Canada is working on a goat that carries a gene from spiders allowing it to produce spider silk in its milk. When the spider silk, which consists of extremely strong, light proteins, is extracted from the goat's milk, the substance, potentially, can be used in applications like bulletproof vests. [Yoon] This last sentence is intriguing. The genetic revolution often bills itself as a second green revolution that will prevent starvation and alleviate disease, promising to feed the world's growing population in terms that tend to essentialize poverty and hunger as inevitable symptoms of a human condition, rather than understand them through the lens of specific colonial and postcolonial histories. But bulletproof vests? The indignant leftist response here would be to deride the collusion between biotechnology and the military-industrial complex—bulletproof vests leaving little doubt as to whose desires count as universal, timeless needs. Yet such a response is perhaps too quick to attribute reason to these genetic experiments in cross-species breeding, and too quick to accept the terms in which biotechnicians present themselves—as the instruments of reason, whether of global capitalism or universal human progress. Part of what this essay wishes to suggest is that to dream up such things and to think of wanting to do them—make a goat produce spider silk in its milk—involve particular fantasies, fantasies not simply about recreating the world in one's image, but about learning to desire the world again, to be excited by it or "surprised" by its existence, to borrow a phrase from Stanley Cavell. The journalist's parenthetical "potentially" indicates that no use has yet been determined, no burning need fuels such experiments, and hints at the boredom behind them—what William Wordsworth might have called the "state of almost savage torpor" in which desire itself has to be invented.As the New York Times writer's double metaphor of animal as laborer- and factory-in-one suggests—"these animals, or bioreactors, as they are also known, earn their keep as living chemical factories"—the binaries animal-human, machine-animal... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:CREATOR AND CAUSALITY: A CRITIQUE OF PRE-CRITICAL OBJECTIONS ANDREW BEARDS University of Oalgary Calgary, Alberta IN SOME QUARTERS arguments ias to the existence or non-existence of God are still regarded as intellectually respectaible. Indeed, interest in such arguments is not restricted to those with a strictly philosophical or theological training. Every so often one may observe some specialist from the physical sciences taking an interest in the philosophical discussion (...) of cosmological issues. Such has been the case with the recent contributions of the physicist Paul Davies.1 However, such contributions are likely to invite from the philosopher the response that the generalized notions which the scientist attempts to transpose from the particular field of his scientific interest are the very notions which feature in the current debates on the philosophy and methodology of the sciences. Such debates bring into question the status of these scientific notions and therefore render any putative generalized or even metaphysical application of them problematic. Discussions of natural theology, then, often appear to be conducted in a manner which tends to take too much for granted with regard to the terms employed. The notion of causality, central to such,argumentation, is a case in point. Often enough a simple ":billiard hall" image of causal interaction seems to he all that one is required to keep before the mind in order to follow the lines of argument involved, he they ~or or aiga.inst the postulation of a First Cause. Thus, in the often referred to r:adio.debate on the existence of God between 1 Paul Davies, God and the New Physics (New York: T'ouchstone Books, 1984). 573 574 ANDREW BEARDS Bertrand Russell and Fl1ederick Copleston, Russell simply averred that he did not feel compelled to accept that a causal chain extended heyond the ·World to some First Cause. For, indeed, if one imagines a line of billiard halls transmitting momentum one to the other, there is nothing unintelligible about picturing a first!billiard hall initiating the process apparently unaided. Hume has surely taught us that much. If one is to heed the present debates raging in that arena known as the philosophy of science (by which term one can understand epistemology, metaphysics and virtually ·any other topic tr:aditiona1ly designated philosophical), then one can.be forgi¥en for asking how the question as to the existence of God could he raised in an intelligiible manner. For if one is to agree with Richa1d J. Bernstein's assertion that contemporary philosophy manifests, in the ma.in, 1a rebellious attitude to the "father figure,, of the methodical Descartes,2 then one can be equally well impressed by the fact that this " rebellious spirit" is no Jess informed iby a respect for the Kantian attempt to descry the parameters of valid human knowing. And was it not the Kantian achievement to have dispelled the oibfuscation of metaphysics, thereby eliminating the grounds which were helieved to have substantiated a rational affirmation of the existence of God? The term 'Pre-Critical ' in the title of this essay is, therefore, intended as an e¥ocation of the Kantian demand for a critical v;alidation of the terms employed in philosophical argumentation. However, I shall attempt to advance the thesis that the Kantian enterprise does not, in fact, result in a happy resolution of the problems which it sets for itself. This is, of course, a thesis which could 'be proposed f.rom a number of divergent philosophical standpoints. It is my intention to argue here, however, that the work of the philosopher Bernard Lonergan provides,a more satisfactory method for the carrying through of the critical endeavour to validate epistemologi2 Richard J, Bernstein, Beyond Objectwism and.Relatwism (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1983), p. 18. CREATOR AND CAUSALITY 575 cally the philosophical,statements we propose. I believe it is the merit of Lonergan's work to have developed positions on the hasis of an explication of the exigences operative in criticism itself, such that any criticism of this explication will he rbut an example of an incoherent criticism,attempting to invalidate its own procedures.3 In what follows I shall attempt to develop the above-mentioned argument to the effect... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy of Music Education Review 11.2 (2003) 157-169 [Access article in PDF] Praxis and the PossibleThoughts on the Writings of Maxine Greene and Paulo Freire Randall Everett Allsup Columbia University Authors in a recent edition of the Philosophy of Music Education Review have assayed various understandings of praxis within the domain of music learning and teaching. 1 Leadened (perhaps) by history, this six-letter word sustains a multiplicity of meanings. (...) Philosophers as disparate as Aristotle, Marx and Engels, Sartre, Marshall Sahlins, Pierre Bourdieu, and David Elliott have represented praxis as a form of cultural-doing—but in many instances, this is where the similarities end. 2 By stirring up the pot, editor Estelle Jorgensen has sought to lighten history's burden, lest the word praxis suffer ossification, territorial over-use, or (worse) over-simplification.My first encounters with the word praxis were not particularly weighty or didactic. In graduate work with Maxine Greene, I would often hear praxis associated with the arts, with possibilities, openings, or alternatives. Greene does not construct a philosophical stance around the word; rather the conditions for praxis exist within the imagination, within "the capacity to look at things as if they could be otherwise." 3 Recalling Emily Dickinson, Greene writes that "imagination lights the possible's slow fuse." 4 Praxis, I think, is not simply the capacity to imagine alternative scenarios, but is instead the slow burning fuse of possibility and action. [End Page 157] This definition connects nicely with Paulo Freire, the revolutionary pedagogue who is of late often paired with Greene. 5 "Human activity," writes Freire, "consists of action and reflection: it is praxis." 6 The result is action upon our world.I must admit that as a long time fan of Freire (and as a student and friend of Greene), I have often wondered what exactly it means to act upon one's world, to name's one's world—especially as a music educator. Can such action lead to the creation of a love song? Can we say that certain art forms like the blues, be-bop, and jam band are more praxial than others? Might an encounter with Brahms lead to potentially transformative action upon my world?Freirian praxis, for sure, is non-neutral; it occurs when we disavow the traditional separation between abstracted learning and real life. After September 11, for example, my freshman music education majors created a requiem for the missing and the dead. This was the most difficult teaching I have ever facilitated. Before beginning our composition, we listened to several movements from the Faure Requiem, particularly the "In Paradisum": "May the choir of angels receive thee, and with Lazarus, once a beggar, mayst thou have eternal rest." We tried to attain Faure's sense of peace and hope; we admired his assurance that those who were gone were at rest, at peace. And we shared stories, and talked about our feelings and our pain. 7During this time, even the ordinary became infused with meaning. Banal pop music, like Enrique Inglesia's Hero, became a tribute song for many, including myself. Suddenly full of significance and relevance, I attended more closely to the simplicity of his chords and the sotto voce color of his voice: Would you die for the one you love? Hold me in your arms tonight. I wanna be your hero... The fact that this was an ordinary love song written some time before the terrorist attacks does not negate my feelings for it. Like Faure's requiem, it brought me a degree of comfort. In addition, I found solace in the music of Aaron Copland, particularly Quiet City. The open intervals seemed to speak of piece, quietude, and space. The opening trumpet recitative was defiant, but introspective—the English horn felt dark and mournful. I wanted to be back in an earlier New York, like the one that Copland knew and loved.Of course, acting upon our world requires inaction: thinking, perceiving, reflecting, reconceptualizing, connecting. For Freire and Greene, transformational or liberatory practice cannot... (shrink)

[W. J. T.] Mitchell focuses on the exemplary status of the Wall of Fame in Sal’s Pizzeria, “an array of signed publicity photos of Italian-American stars in sports, movies, and popular music” . He argues that the Wall “exemplifies the central contradictions of public art” . “The Wall,” he writes, “is important to Sal not just because it displays famous Italians but because they are famous Americans … who have made it possible for Italians to think of themselves as Americans, (...) full-fledged members of the general public sphere” . For Buggin’ Out, the young black customer who angrily objects to the absence of photos of black people, the Wall “signifies exclusion from the public sphere” . Although the streets are saturated with images of “African-American heroes,” those “tokens of self-respect” are not enough for Buggin’ Out, who wants “the respect of whites, the acknowledgment that African-Americans are hyphenated Americans, too, just like Italians” . Mitchell astutely interprets the desired integration of the Wall as merely a symptom of a larger struggle for “full economic participation. As long as blacks do not own private property in this society,” he states, “they remain in something like the status of public art, mere ornaments to the public place, entertaining statues and abstract caricatures rather than full human beings” . By foregrounding the economic implications of the film, Mitchell has surely engaged one of the dominant goals of the man who formed Forty Acres and a Mule Productions and who recently opened the store called Spike’s Joint in New York City. Yet Mitchell’s sympathetic account belies the countercurrents that trouble the ostensible progressiveness of Spike Lee’s ambitious art. Jerome Christensen teaches in the English department at Johns Hopkins University. He is the author of books on Coleridge and Hume and one forthcoming on Byron. Currently, he is completing a study of the continued pertinence of the romantic turn of mind called Romantic Theory, Romantic Practice. (shrink)

Nikola Tesla (1856–1943) is surely one of the more remarkable figures in the story of global electrification. Rivalling Thomas Edison for the title of chief Wizard, both in his own time and ours, almost every invention of modern life has at some point been attributed to Tesla: from the communications media of telephone, fax, radio, and television, through the military utilities of radar and remote-control weapons, and (most plausibly) the systems of alternate current generation and transmission that power our world. (...) And yet Tesla died impoverished and alone in a New York hotel room with his greatest plans for wireless power transmission abandoned and derided, if they were remembered at all. Tesla’s image as something of a martyr to an ungrateful world has indeed generated a cult following in recent decades, doubtless fired in part by the Serbian nationalism that has justly helped raise the profile of Albert Einstein’s first wife, Mileva Marić (e.g. M. Popović, In Albert’s Shadow: The L .. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 20 (2000) 71-84 [Access article in PDF] Christian Views on Ritual Practice Society and Sacrament: The Anglican Left and Sacramental Socialism, Ritual as Ethics Nicholas GrovesLoyola University Introduction August in New York City is frequently a time of intense heat, where the congestion of city living kindles tempers to the breaking point. This is true in a special way in the tenements of the city, where (...) people without air-conditioning take raw anger and frustration into the streets. It was in this environment, in the tenements of the Lower East Side, that gang violence erupted in August of 1959. At least two young people were shot in gang-related "rumbles" and retaliation. Blacks and Puerto Ricans, already scrambling for the few available jobs society provided for them, squared off against each other. Police and the city of New York vowed more punishment, more arrests. (At this same time, Leonard Bernstein portrayed these struggles in terms of the love of Tony and Maria, but in "real life" it was "East Side Story" as much as "West Side Story.")In response to renewed war among his youth, the Episcopal priest, Fr. Kilmer Myers of St. Augustine's Chapel (now St. Augustine's Parish) also took to the streets. Canceling the church's usual patronal festival and carnival, he led his people in a procession through the streets of his neighborhood, with clergy clad in the solemn vestments of the Eucharist, with banners, incense, and hymns. His purpose: to pray and to plead that the killing stop, and that the authorities see the agony of the young who had abandoned an almost three-year "truce" he had helped work out with youth leaders between rival gangs.Myers wrote later in his book, Light the Dark Streets (Greenwich, Conn.: Seabury Press, 1957) about his ministry at St. Augustine's. In contrast to a city government and police department intent on further punishment as a solution to gang problems, Fr. Myers posed the presence of people who lived and worked with the young people and a community in desperate need: A parish such as this... so filled with darkness, defeat... and a longing for victory.... We think of next year and the year after that. We are not sure that we have the strength or that we can ask for it. The shouts in the street become an unending shout. The angry cry mingles with music from the tenement.... [End Page 71] There is the scream of the police siren. Will it stop in the block? There is the uncertainty at each youth affair. Will someone be shot or stabbed? (p. 96) In 1981, Bishop Desmond Tutu challenged the government of South Africa to abandon its policy of apartheid, a challenge he and others later won. But at that point, with any kind of victory far from certain, he confronted his opponents with words about his own spiritual commitment: I want to say that there is nothing the government can do to me that will stop me from being involved in what I believe is what God wants me to do. I do not do it because I like doing it. I do it because I am under what I believe to be the influence of God's hand. I cannot help it when I see injustice. I cannot keep quiet. I will not keep quiet, for as Jeremiah says, when I try to keep quiet, God's word burns like a fire in my breast. But what is it that they can ultimately do? The most awful thing that they can do is to kill me, and death is not the worst thing that can happen to a Christian. (Quoted in S. DuBoulay, Tutu: Voice of the Voiceless [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1988], pp. 174-175.) How does ritual involve ethics? I would like to present for your consideration one example of such an intersection: the witness of what some have called the "Anglican Left" in both Britain and the United States, or what the historian Peter Jones has named "sacramental socialism... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 26 (2006) 213-216 MuseSearchJournalsThis JournalContents[Access article in PDF]Reviewed byJohn Berthrong Boston University School of TheologyDialogues at One Inch Above the Ground: Reclamations of Belief in an Interreligious Age. By James W. Heisig. New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 2003. 215 pp.Few scholars are better prepared than James W. Heisig to write about the current state of Buddhist-Christian dialogue, and few have written more insightfully about the historical, (...) theological, religious, and spiritual factors that have made Buddhist-Christian dialogue so intriguing for the last four decades. Heisig is the director of the Nanzan Institute, one of the premier institutions in the world dedicated to cultivating dialogue primarily between Christians and Buddhists, but also with people of other traditions and no religious belief at all.The title of the book is taken from the writings of the famous medieval poet Saigyō, who said that he tried to live at "one inch above the ground." Heisig follows Saigyō's advice by focusing many of his articles on themes such as health and ecology rather than abstruse metaphysical discussions of the intricacies of Buddhist and Christian doctrines, although, as one would expect, he shows a deft hand at explaining the philosophical and theological dimensions of living life at one inch above the ground.The opening two chapters on how we can collectively view the current ecological crisis demonstrate Heisig's sure hand at moving between profound meditations on current events and demonstrating how these problems can be even better understood in terms of spiritual and religious insights. Heisig argues that having two eyes, one Buddhist and one Christian, might just help us walk better on the ground, especially a ground that is being harmed on a daily basis by human disregard for the natural environment. His essay on the interpretation of the Buddhist principle of sufficiency is based on the injunction that we should learn to "consider how much is enough." The following essay demonstrates how hard-headed he can be with his call for us not to move from an uncaring contempt for nature to an equally ill-conceived sentimentalization of nature.There are so many insightful and clever features to the essays in the book that it is hard to pick out any one essay for special comment, but one of my favorites, high-lighting [End Page 213] Heisig's rhetorical powers, is "Six Sūtras on Dialogue" (pp. 139–157). This essay demonstrates what a Christian theologian might learn from engaging in interreligious dialogue. Moreover, it even takes the form, as Heisig explains, of the traditional Buddhist sūtra of six teachings on the nature of dialogue. Dialogue, according to Heisig (echoing Alfred North Whitehead), "is an adventure of ideas" (p. 141). The first teaching is "The spirit of interreligious dialogue need not be born of traditions in order to be reborn there" (p. 145). One of the strong points Heisig makes over and over again is that we now live with increasing self-awareness in a religiously pluralistic world. Actually, we always have, though various theological traditions have been adept at either ignoring or rejecting the notion that there could be anything positive about religious pluralism. At its worst, pluralism simply demonstrated the spiritual depravity and turbidity of humankind, and at best, it could simply be ignored as unworthy of serious comment. With the growing social, political, economic, military, and cultural interconnections of the modern world, no one can ignore pluralism. Theologians and religious leaders, in particular, need to think about religious pluralism even if this dialogue is not something that was "born" within their traditional theological discourse.The second teaching is a corroloary of the first: "Dialogue is primarily a minority enterprise that stands free of the obligations of institutional religion" (p. 147). Now, the leaders of institutional religion might dispute this point, but again Heisig is correct in noting that people are going to talk to their neighbors regardless of what they are told to do by worried religious authorities. He makes the... (shrink)

In _Marx at the Margins_, Kevin Anderson uncovers a variety of extensive but neglected texts by the well-known political economist which cast what we thought we knew about his work in a startlingly different light. Analyzing a variety of Marx’s writings, including journalistic work written for the _New York Tribune_, Anderson presents us with a Marx quite at odds with our conventional interpretations. Rather than providing us with an account of Marx as an exclusively class-based thinker, Anderson here offers (...) a portrait of Marx for the twenty-first century: a global theorist whose social critique was sensitive to the varieties of human social and historical development, including not just class, but nationalism, race, and ethnicity, as well. _Marx at the Margins _ultimately argues that alongside his overarching critique of capital, Marx created a theory of history that was multi-layered and not easily reduced to a single model of development or revolution. Through highly-informed readings on work ranging from Marx’s unpublished 1879–82 notebooks to his passionate writings about the antislavery cause in the United States, this volume delivers a groundbreaking and canon-changing vision of Karl Marx that is sure to provoke lively debate in Marxist scholarship and beyond. (shrink)

An insider's provocative account of one of the most contentious debates in science today When Niles Eldredge and Stephen Jay Gould, two of the world's leading evolutionary theorists, proposed a bold new theory of evolution—the theory of "punctuated equilibria"—they stood the standard interpretation of Darwin on its head. They also ignited a furious debate about the true nature of evolution. On the one side are the geneticists. They contend that evolution proceeds slowly but surely, driven by competition among organisms to (...) transmit their genes from generation to generation. On the other are the paleontologists, like Eldredge and Gould, who show in the fossil record that in fact evolution proceeds only sporadically. Long periods of no change—equilibria—are "punctuated" by episodes of rapid evolutionary activity. According to the paleontologists, this pattern shows that evolution is driven far more by environmental forces than by genetic competition. How can the prevailing views on evolution be so different? In Reinventing Darwin, Niles Eldredge offers a spirited account of the dispute and an impressive case for the paleontologists' side of the story. With the mastery that only a leading contributor to the debate can provide, he charts the course of theory from Darwin's day to the present and explores the fundamental mysteries and crucial questions that underlie the current quarrels. Is evolution fired by a gentle and persistent motor and fueled by the survival instincts of "selfish genes"? Or does it proceed in fits and starts, as the fossil record seems to show? What is the role of environmental changes such as habitat destruction and of cataclysmic events like meteor impacts? Are most species inherently stable, changing only very little until they succumb to extinction? Or are species highly adaptable, changing all the time? Eldredge sorts through the major findings and interpretations and presents a lively introduction to the leading edge of evolutionary theory today. Reinventing Darwin offers a rare insider's view of the sometimes contentious, but always stimulating work of scientific inquiry. PRAISE FOR NILES ELDREDGE'S PREVIOUS BOOKS The Miner's Canary: Unraveling the Mysteries of Extinction "The Miner's Canary rings with integrity. The author takes care to present opposing views. Some readers, indeed, might view Mr. Eldredge as a little too self-effacing; he is, after all, one of the world's leading experts in his field."—The New York Times Book Review Fossils: The Evolution and Extinction of Species "... an important and informative book. It is also delightfully idiosyncratic. This is no scholarly treatise defending academic argument. It is an essay for everyone interested in the story of earthly life."—The Christian Science Monitor Life Pulse: Episodes from the Story of the Fossil Record "This is Earth history on a grand scale; those who enjoy the works of Stephen Jay Gould will appreciate Life Pulse."—Publishers Weekly. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Cambridge Companion to Greek and Roman PhilosophyBrad InwoodDavid Sedley, editor. The Cambridge Companion to Greek and Roman Philosophy. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Pp. xiv + 396. Cloth, $65.00, Paper, $24.00.Readers of this journal are familiar with the Cambridge Companions. What is striking about this one is its broad sweep. A Companion to all of ancient philosophy will necessarily present the reader with a somewhat (...) shallow overview. Is this really such a good idea? What is its role, when there are already Companions to Early Greek Philosophy, Plato, Aristotle, The Stoics, and Plotinus? The editor answers this by aiming also to provide a "book to accompany survey courses on the history of ancient philosophy." It is challenging to provide an overview of the first millennium and more of Western philosophy, but this pedagogical goal is tougher. David Sedley has managed both tasks well. Although some chapters are not suitable hors d'oeuvres for beginners, all will nourish the hungry and whet the appetite for more. Even those chapters which amount to substantial entrées too rich for novices are excellent meat. There are no reheated leftovers. From beginning to end this is a feast of reason.The book makes abundant use of tables to present large amounts of complex material economically—lists of Plato's dialogues indicate topics, speakers and lengths; Roman philosophers are displayed with biographical notes, school affiliations, and major works; philosophical commentators are given with date and the author and work commented on; nineteen Presocratics are adorned with birthplace, date, key ideas and thumbnail comments. Many of the chapters cultivate an elegant but economical style which must be due in part to editorial encouragement and example. Though it is bound to skip over much, it avoids even the appearance of superficiality. Jill Kraye's chapter on "The legacy of ancient philosophy" to the medieval and modern world is a masterpiece of clarity and compression as well as a superb piece of intellectual history.Kraye's survey concludes the volume. Sedley's substantial introduction begins it by motivating the study of ancient philosophy through two characteristic questions, "What is a good human life?" and "Why isn't the earth falling?" and culminates in a highly informative guide to our various textual sources and a compact demonstration of how they become the editions and translations we use.Jonathan Barnes opens (ch. 1) with a homily on "Argument in ancient philosophy"; splendid stuff, but for all its lucidity, not an ideal appetizer for the survey course students I teach—it's a dessert better served later in the volume. Similarly thematic chapters on "Philosophy and literature" (ch. 8, Martha Nussbaum), "Philosophy and science" (ch. 10, R.J. Hankinson) and "Philosophy and religion" (ch. 11, Glenn Most) set ancient philosophy in broader context. Hankinson splendidly communicates the scientific agenda of the ancient world, perhaps over-emphasizing the mathematical sciences, Galen and scientific epistemology at the cost of "scientific" writers like Strabo, Pliny, and Vitruvius. Nussbaum concentrates on the fourth century B.C. at the expense of later centuries, but gives excellent value on the canonical texts, the Republic and the Poetics. Most's essay explores the interpenetration of religious themes with the philosophical (emphasizing how differently pagan religion interacted with philosophy than does any modern faith) and adds an acute though exaggerated set of observations on the religious quality of the ancient philosophical way of life. It would be hard to locate the saintly sages Most presents as typical in the logical landscape evoked by Barnes.The remaining chapters cover periods and major figures. Malcolm Schofield on the Presocratics (ch. 2), Sarah Broadie on the Sophists and Socrates (ch. 3), Christopher Rowe on Plato (ch. 4), John Cooper on Aristotle (ch. 5), Jacques Brunschwig and David Sedley on Hellenistic philosophy, A.A. Long on Roman (ch. 7), and Frans de Haas on Late ancient philosophy. The authors are all eloquent authorities and it's a menu with no bad choices—though I'm sure my undergraduates will find Cooper's treatment of the figures of Aristotle's syllogisms indigestible. I found Rowe's careful balance of old and new in his introduction to... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:242 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY his political and religious predispositions prodded him to demonstrate that the roots of modern science were in the Christian Middle Ages. Sarton's particular foibles are best understood by referring them to his pacifist commitments and the moralistic assumption that the values of science are transferable to other human endeavors. Categories such as inductivism, conventionalism and Popperianism are of little help in gaining historical understanding. For (...) this, they are in fact Platonic ideals which have little heuristic value. I would venture that a truly historical historiography of science would aid us in spotting errors in the past and help us in the future. My guess is that a good analysis would reveal a major source of trouble to have stemmed from preconceived notions which the history of science was meant to illustrate. Surely some of them have been philosophical in character, and even Baconian or conventionalist. But until recent times, most of these preconceptions have stemmed from religious, nationalistic, or personal motivations, or from scientists who wanted support for a particular concept. I agree with Agassi only in the suggestion that a parti pris was at the root of our troubles. Why, then, substitute a Popperian preconception for a conventionalist one? Why not, on the contrary, combat their distorting influence and reduce their impact? This is in fact what has happened in recent times. As the history of science has fallen into the hands of a gradually organized profession, the blatant motivations --of any type--which colored past historical writings have slowly receded. By a constant and critical confrontation of opposing views among specialists, the purpose for examining the history of science has slowly been transformed. The older external motivations have given way to an interest in the subject for its own sake and a gradual transformation has been in the making for the last few decades. As happens in other human endeavors, professionalization has already raised the standards in the discipline and there is every reason to think it will continue to do so in the future. We need not really be as pessimistic as Agassi, nor embrace his particular salvation. ROGEa HAm~ University o] Cali]ornia, Berkeley A MEDIEVAL ANALYSIS OF INFINITY IN THE COURSEof arguing that time must have had a beginning, St. Bonaventure (1221-74) put forward a demonstration which in some ways seems to anticipate Cantor's definition of infinity.1 Bonaventure pointed out that, if the world were infinitely old, then there would have been an infinite number of annual revolutions of the sun around the ecliptic. But during each such period there occur (roughly) twelve revolutions of the moon, i.e. lunar months or lunations. Thus there would be one infinity which was twelve times another--which, says Bonaventure, is impossible. This attempted proof might be formulated as the following For other adumbrationsof this definition,see I. Thomas,"A TwelfthCentury Paradoxof the Infinite,"Journal o] Symbolic Logic, XXIII (1958), 133-134, and W. & M. Kneale, The Development of Logic (Oxford,1962),p. 440. NOTES AND DISCUSSIONS 243 reductio ad absurdum, in which a revolution of the sun is specified as the period between successive vernal equinoxes. If there could be an infinite set of past lunations, then clearly it could be put in a one-to-one correspondence with a proper sub-set of itself--viz., with the set of past lunar months during which vernal equinoxes occurred. But this consequence is preposterous; no set could be so correlated with its own sub-set. Therefore the set of past lunar months cannot be infinite, and the world must have had a beginning. The passage, which is found in Bonaventure's commentary on the Sentences of Peter Lombard, reads as follows :2 Si mundus est aeternus, revolutiones solis in orbe suo sunt infmitae ; rursus, pro una revolutions solis necesse est fuisse duodecim ipsius lunae: ergo plus revoluta est luna quam sol; et sol infinities: ergo infinitorum ex ea parle, qua infinita sunt, est reperire excessum. Hoe autem est impossibile : ergo etc. PA~-r~asoN BROWN Harpur College, State University o] New York Sententiarum L/b. H, Dist. I, P.I, Art. I, Quaest. II, as found in S. Bonaventurme, Opera Omnla... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Social and Moral Aspects of the WarBertrand Russell and Introduced by Andrew G. BoneAmong nine loose-leaf folders of typed transcriptions of Russell's History of Western Philosophy lectures at the Barnes Foundation1 are two copies of a fourteen-page stenographic record of a political talk he gave there on 2 March 1941.2 The bulk of this significant new accrual to the Russell Archives, bearing as it does on Russell's most successful (...) philosophical work, could stimulate much further research and textual study. But his isolated Barnes lecture, about the politics of American neutrality, Nazi Germany's brutal and expansionist dictatorship, and the causes and possible consequences of the war against it, is also of considerable interest.The transcription reads more like detailed notes than a verbatim account, and there is no evidence that Russell approved this text.3 The stenographer initially recorded Russell in the third person, dispensed with this device before the second [End Page 52] paragraph, but then occasionally returned to it.4 There is also more enumeration of Russell's points than he would have supplied in a prepared script. Even the title may not be his: there is nothing in the text on any social changes wrought by the war. But this title has been retained in the absence of a more plausible alternative in a short report of the speech (quoting sixteen sentences) in the next day's Philadelphia Evening Bulletin.5 Russell's hour-long address on the "Social and Moral Aspects of the War" appears to have been the only occasion when he "laid philosophy aside"6 at the Barnes Foundation. It was delivered on a Sunday to an audience of 160 students (and possibly some invitees, although none are mentioned in the newspaper article), sandwiched between two of his weekly philosophical lectures (on Socrates and Sparta7) in the series scheduled for each Thursday.In opening his case for the United States joining the Allied war effort, Russell challenged the arguments for the "policy of conciliation" which, by his own recent admission in the New York Times,8 he had earlier endorsed. Published two weeks before Russell spoke on a similar topic at the Barnes Foundation, this 2,000-word letter to the editor served as a very detailed and public renunciation of the pacifist viewpoint—neutrality for national governments combined with non-resistance for individuals—which Russell had promoted in Which Way to Peace? (1936) and continued to condone after the Munich Agreement (September 1938) and even the dismemberment of Czechoslovakia (March 1939).Yet Russell the "relative political pacifist"9 also admitted in this most programmatic statement of his prewar position that "In other times and other circumstances, I should be prepared to consider gains and losses, and to concede that war might be worth while" (WWP, pp. 151–2).That moment had obviously arrived and may have done so already when on 15 October 1939 Russell confided to Constance Malleson that his passionate desire for a British victory made a "thorough-going pacifism difficult" (ra Rec. Acq. 596). But six months later he still did "not feel sufficiently sure of the opposite to say anything publicly by way of recantation"—before adding in this letter to Gilbert Murray that "it may come to that" (21 April 1940, ra Rec. Acq. 71g). It clearly did shortly afterwards—when the "phoney war" in Western Europe was dramatically ended by the invasion of France and the [End Page 53] Low Countries. On 13 May Russell asked the editor of the New Statesman and Nation to notify its readers that he had abandoned his once strongly held pacifist convictions.10In his lecture to the Barnes Foundation, Russell turned next to the defence of American non-intervention by Robert M. Hutchins (see n. 16 below)—which he had already critiqued in the New York Times. Although rather precariously situated as a resident alien in the United States, Russell was hardly circumspect about pushing a policy that so sharply divided American opinion.11 He also listed the faults of the League of Nations and the most grievous diplomatic mistakes made since the end of the last war and the fatally... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 39.4 (2001) 594-596 [Access article in PDF] Immanuel Kant. Critique of the Power of Judgment. Edited by Paul Guyer. Translated by Paul Guyer and Eric Matthews. The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Immanuel Kant. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000. Pp. lii + 423. Cloth, $64.95. With the publication of this volume, a long dark age, or at least an age (...) of frustrations, comes to an end for English-speaking students of Kant's third Critique. To be sure, translations of the Kritik der Urteilskraft into English have long been available, but hitherto none has been quite satisfactory. J.H. Bernard's (1892) contained numerous errors. James Creed Meredith's (1911-1928) was too free for scholarly purposes. Werner Pluhar's (1987), though systematic in its treatment of Kant's vocabulary, imposed so much restructuring and rewording on his sentences as to make the translator himself an intrusive presence throughout.The new version by Paul Guyer and Eric Matthews surpasses its predecessors in almost every respect. (It equals Pluhar's in including the First Introduction.) In keeping with the principles of the Cambridge Edition of Kant's writings, the translators make literal accuracy a primary desideratum, and leave the work of interpretation, to the greatest extent possible, to the reader. The title itself reflects this policy. The consistent rendering of Urteilskraft as "power of judgment," rather than the familiar "judgment," makes it unambiguous when Kant is talking about judgments and when he is talking about the capacity to make them. It is to be hoped that this will discourage the misconstrual of Kant's distinction between (using Guyer and Matthews's terms) the [End Page 594] "reflecting" and the "determining" powers of judgment as a distinction between two varieties of judgments.The translators' practice of preserving the grammatical complexity of Kant's sentences does sometimes make one wish for some help with his pronouns, since English does not preserve the information that gender carries in German. In most cases, though, one gains more than one loses in comprehension of Kant's reasoning by having his sentences rendered whole rather than in pieces.There are occasions when what is presumably intended as literal accuracy seems more like a needlessly unbending attitude toward idiom. To take one example, at §19, Kant is translated as saying: "whoever declares something to be beautiful wishes [will] that everyone should [solle] approve the object in question and similarly declare it to be beautiful" (121). Of course, wollen is ordinarily to be translated as "want" or "will," and perhaps sometimes as "wish"; but it also can mean "claim" or "hold" in certain contexts, and this seems to me to be one of them, as all previous translators have taken it to be. (One can wish that others would do something, but one cannot intelligibly be said to wish that they should do something.)Of course, no translation can please everyone. Those who were attached to the jingle of "purposiveness without a purpose" may be disappointed to find Zweckmäßigkeit ohne Zweck rendered here as "purposiveness without an end." But, given that there is no good alternative to "purposiveness" to render Zweckmäßigkeit, and that Zweck figures so prominently in Kant's ethical thought, where it is always, and rightly, rendered as "end," the need for consistency and accuracy surely justifies the sacrifice of consonance. Zweck der Natur and Naturzweck are distinguished as "end of nature" and "natural end," respectively (apart from a lapse over pages 34-35); Endzweck and letztes Zweck as "final end" and "ultimate end"; streiten and disputieren (in the "Resolution of the Antinomy of Taste," §57) as "argue" and "dispute." In this last pair it seems to me that Bernard's and Pluhar's "quarrel" would have been a better choice for the first term. The distinction between Streiten and Disputieren, as between "quarreling" and "disputing," is certainly delicate, but not groundless; a distinction between "arguing" and "disputing" seems completely artificial. However, in this as in all such difficult cases, the translators helpfully supply the German terms in... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reply to My CommentatorsDavid CarrierI am immensely thankful to Rika Burnham and Elliott Kai-Kee, Enrique Martínez Celaya, Klaus Ottmann, and Sean Ulmer for their comments on my book. And to Daniel A. Siedell for organizing this mini-symposium, which really is an author's dream. By gently pressing me to think about important issues, these sympathetic commentators have advanced dialogue.When writing Museum Skepticism I became very aware that there are two (...) kinds of literature that discuss museums. There are memoirs of curators or other museum employees, and there are the commentaries by academics, which usually look at museums from the outside. My ambition was to look at this institution in a way that would both be sympathetic to the practical concerns and embody a theoretical point of view. One otherwise sympathetic reviewer complained that I was only looking at the museum from the outside.1 That certainly is correct, but for obvious reasons people who work in museums are unusually unwilling to describe their inner workings. To have a good theory of the museum, you need to be practical. Often, for example, critics complain about the proliferation of shops and restaurants, urge that admission be free, or say that blockbuster shows are destructive and overcrowded. However one judges such moralizing, the museum director who needs to balance the budget can hardly be guided by such reasoning. One can be critical, as I am, about the power of the super-rich in museum life. But in what other way could funding be found? The history of debates about the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) points to obvious ways in which, in America at least, reliance on public funding poses problems. My goal, then, was to develop a realistic analysis.Sean Ulmer correctly notes that to understand the art in museums, we must consider its prior history. Chinese paintings, Islamic decorations, Maori sculpture, and premodern European art were not made to be displayed in public galleries. And so there are legitimate questions about how to set it alongside modernist art, whose natural home is the art museum. Allowing this much, I am not sure why he thinks it impossible to describe museums in a single book. We need to understand how artifacts with such varied origins can be coherently displayed in one building. Here, then, we get to Ulmer's second concern—museum displays. Recently museums have experimented with thematic displays. The Museum of Modern Art in New York did that before its recent reconstruction; the Tate Modern has such a system; and during summer 2006 the Whitney tried such a plan. I understand the need of museums to experiment, to find new ways to attract visitors to the permanent collection. Still, a straight chronological display has the obvious advantage of presenting that history of art in which, for example, Impressionism leads to Cubism, and then on to Abstract Expressionism. The obvious danger of thematic displays is that they bewilder the larger public. [End Page 22]When I said that museums are top-down institutions, I was thinking of the grander public museums where the function of the trustees is to raise money, either by giving themselves or by networking. These people who provide funding no doubt have their own agendas, but they, in turn, respond to larger economic and political concerns. I would be astonished if the Metropolitan Museum of Art asked Arthur Danto or Leo Steinberg to be a trustee; or, to look closer at hand, if the Carnegie Museum of Art or the Cleveland Museum of Art asked me to play that role. Since we are mere professors, what practical help could we provide? I expect that at smaller museums the situation is different. But here, again, it is important to be realistic. Cleveland's art historians have not had any influence on the rebuilding plan for the Cleveland Museum of Art. Of course I would be flattered if the new director asked for my opinion, but to be honest, I am not sure that I could tell him anything useful. When Ulmer discusses the comparative role of permanent collections and temporary exhibitions, he touches on a very important point. Like him, I... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Reality+: Virtual Worlds and the Problems of Philosophy by David J. ChalmersAnand Jayprakash Vaidya (bio)Reality+: Virtual Worlds and the Problems of Philosophy. By David J. Chalmers. New York, NY: W.W Norton & Company, 2022. Pp. xi + 520. Hardcover $22.49, isbn 978-0-393635-80-5.It isn't uncommon to think that virtual worlds, the worlds we engage with in video games, for example, are not real or at least less real (...) than the ordinary world. After all, they are worlds that are created by us, and thus are less real than the world we didn't create, mind-independent reality. However, in Reality+, David Chalmers argues for the thesis that virtual reality is genuine reality.Reality+ is the twenty-first century equivalent of Bertrand Russell's twentieth century The Problems of Philosophy, published 110 years prior. Like Russell, Chalmers' goal is to explain the basic problems of philosophy to a wide audience.The book's twenty-four chapters are organized into seven different parts: virtual worlds, knowledge, reality, real virtual reality, mind, value, and foundations. Each section has about three to four chapters. Having taught the book in an upper-division philosophy of mind course, I would say that the first nine chapters should be read together to get a good sense of the whole project, because they give shape and structure to Chalmers' basic arguments and positions. The following fifteen self-explanatory, self-contained, chapters, are independently engaging, and can be taught separately, as standalone works of philosophy.Chalmers engages in what he terms technophilosophy, which is the combination of (1) asking philosophical questions about technology and (2) using technology to help answer traditional questions of philosophy. He claims that he draws inspiration for the project from Patricia Churchland's 1986 Neurophilosophy, where she does the equivalent of (1) and (2) with neuroscience. Reality+ delivers clear arguments, referencing historical and contemporary philosophical work, while frequently drawing from science fiction, including several outstanding Rick and Morty -style illustrations. The use of science fiction helps to connect students to abstract ideas, while the robustly constructed arguments serve to instruct students on how to go about critically examining the ideas. My students found the book accessible and engaging. I imagine the book [End Page 1] will become even more relevant to successive classes, as the issues Chalmers discusses grow more dominant in the future.Chapter 1, "Is this the real life?", begins by discussing Indian and Chinese philosophy in relation to Greek philosophy with respect to theme of illusion/dreams vs. reality. In all three traditions, one finds discussion of the nature of reality and whether we can know it. Chalmers thinks that each of these traditions helps to formulate the basic questions of his book: the knowledge question, the reality question, and the value question.The knowledge question: can we know whether or not we are living in a virtual world? In part 2, Chalmers argues that we cannot know that we are not living in a virtual world. He does so by defending his own version of Nick Bostrom's simulation argument (2003), which very roughly goes as follows: (1) If there is nothing (technological or otherwise) that would serve to block the creation of a perfect simulation of a humanlike being into existence (what he calls a sim blocker), then most humanlike beings are simulations. (2) if most humanlike beings are simulations, we are probably simulations. So, (3) if there are no sim blockers, we are probably sims.The reality question: are virtual worlds real? He argues that virtual worlds are genuinely real by examining a variety of definitions of what makes something real in chapter 6. I will examine this argument in more detail in the following section.The value question: can you lead a good life in a virtual world? He argues that one can, in parts 5 and 6. He says: "In principle, life in virtual reality can have the same sort of value as life in nonvirtual reality. To be sure, life in virtual reality can be good or bad" (p. 311).As successful as Reality+ is, philosophical counterpoints arose in my mind. In the next section, I present... (shrink)

Born in China about 551 b.c., Confucius formulated an extremely influential and far-reaching ethical system emphasizing devotion to parents, family, and friends; cultivation of the mind, self-control, and just social activity. In this excellent biography, a noted Japanese scholar develops an insightful portrait of Confucius against the social and political background of his day, based on a meticulous and detailed examination of early original sources. Following an extensive introductory section devoted to the state of China in the sixth and fifth (...) centuries b.c., the author offers succinct, perceptive discussions of Confucius' birth, education, and upbringing; his attitudes toward his predecessors, and views on man as a social being; Confucius as a statesman, the concept of "government by virtue," the failure of the Confucian revolution, the years of wandering, and more. Concise, carefully researched and well-written, this volume offers an excellent introduction to the life and thought of one of history's most influential thinkers--a book sure to appeal to anyone interested in the philosophical, political, and religious movements of the ancient Far East. Unabridged republication of the work published by George Allen & Unwin Ltd., London and The Macmillan Company, New York, 1956. Translated by Geoffrey Bownas. General Introduction. Translator's Note. Appendices. Index. 1 black-and-white illustration. 2 maps. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:"MURTHER, BY A SPECIOUS NAME": ABSALOMAND ACHITOPHEVS POETICS OF SACRIFICIAL SURROGACY Gary Ernst Roger's State University d;,uring the late 1670's and early '80s, English political satirists 'participated in the endeavors of the rival factions, Dissenter or Whig and Royalist or Tory, to effect judicial violence. While juries condemned and the hangman executed Catholics as traitors during the Popish Plot persecution, John Oldham suggests in the "Prologue' to his Satires (...) upon the Jesuits that he writes to stoke the mass hatred fueling the slayings (2: 19-22). Such animosity powered this initial Dissenter effort to exclude Charles II's Catholic brother, James Stuart, Duke ofYork, from the throne, and left more than two hundred dead.' And Dryden's vituperative response to the striking of a medal to celebrate the grand jury's dismissal of high treason charges against Anthony Ashley Cooper, Earl of Shaftesbury, The Medall (pointedly subtitledA Satire againstSedition) seems to have a clear purpose of inciting Royalists to redouble their efforts to dispatch the opposition leadertothe gallows.2 Judicial slayings ofthis kind are perhaps not surprising in these years ofcrisis and fear. Dissenters like Oldham believed that English Catholics plotted to assassinate Charles, put James on the throne, martyr Protestants with the help of foreign Catholic armies, and destroy both the Protestantfaith and English culture itself; Royalists, on the other hand, saw as ever-looming Dissenter insurrection and another catastrophic civil war to take away their property, power, and perhaps the ' For studies ofthe Plot in this political context, see Miller 169-82; Jones 197-217; Greaves 5-32, and Kenyon's complete volume. 2 Harth studies The Medall as an example of Tory propaganda against the Whigs and supportive of Royal efforts to deliver the earl to the gallows (161-9). 62Gary Ernst life ofthe king.3 Duringthe bloodshed ushering in the two party system, the fatal goals ofsatirists seem quite realistic—and indeed may have been so. Thejudicial persecution ofCatholics consumed victims until the fervorthat Oldham labors to feed burnt out; and, in November 1682, eight months after The Medall found its first audience, Shaftesbury, accused by the crown of new treasons, went into hiding soon to flee England in mortal terror of successful Royalist prosecution. The greatest political satire of this turbulent period, Absalom and Achitophel, responds directly to the recent efforts of Charles's beloved, eldest natural son, the Protestant James Scott, Duke of Monmouth—now "Fir'd with near possession of a Crown " (684)—to displace York in the line of succession. The satire revolves around a depiction ofMonmouth's "War in Masquerade," his recenttour through the west ofEngland to gauge and gain support (682-725). Despite the factthatthe satire clearly posits the threat of national catastrophe, it hardly seems at first as intent upon the death ofthis target as either The Medall or Oldham's Satires seem oftheirs. But, to be sure, it is, although Dryden—committed firstly to York and secondly to king4—carefully conceals both his methods and his intentions against Charles's son. For the purpose ofleading his audience to imitate his attack and carry it from the printed page into the world of action and the courts, he conceives apoetics ofsacrifice that screens his hostilities toward Monmouth from the eyes ofthe very persons he undertakes to mobilized. By appropriating for his satire the cultural phenomenon defined by René Girard as the "scapegoat" or "sacrificial mechanism,"5 Dryden arouses and 3 According to Kenyon, in late 1678, the Commons' inflammatory speeches and addresses to the king gave the impression in the House of Lords that the members of the Commons "seemed intent on fighting the Civil Wars all over again" (129) 4 For a fuller discussion ofDryden's commitmentto York, see McFadden 91, 111 -202; Winn 243-75, and Erskine-Hill 22-5. Daly argues that Mac Flecknoe, written some three years before the beginning ofthe Exclusion Crisis of 1679-81, is an oblique but sustained attack upon Monmouth, a result ofthe laureate's concerns about the king's bestowals ofpower upon Monmouth and the possibility ofthe bastard's eventual succession (655-76). For another discussion that focuses upon Dryden's targeting ofMonmouth m Absalom and Achitophel... (shrink)