_Purpose._ The purity of consciousness in European culture has practically been turned into an abstraction. Because of this, there are so many discrepancies in understanding its nature. For Heidegger, the question of the purity of human consciousness remains open. Our purpose is to study the purity of European consciousness in the work of M. Heidegger. _Theoretical basis._ We draw on the deep foundations of existential, phenomenological, hermeneutic, religious-philosophical and postmodern Western and Eastern thought. _Originality._ While the (...) early Heidegger was thinking under the sign of Dasein, he did not hear the nature of the "pure consciousness" of human. Nevertheless, temporality for him was such a fundamental property that it determined the depth of understanding not only of being, but also of human consciousness itself (like Dasein). In this context, we begin to understand that the depth of consciousness in the concept of early Heidegger can be associated with its temporality. In fact, towards the end of "Being and Time", Heidegger, thinking more and more about the understanding of time from the horizon of being, begins to form similar ideas about understanding itself, that is, about human consciousness, in the sense that consciousness itself arises from the horizon of time (and being). What, then, is pure human consciousness the pure time? Does not this mean that the original meaning of consciousness is in its directed temporalizing. This temporalizing of consciousness of human (as a thinking being), which arises from the future, is perceived in three modes and reveals the fundamental nature of the consciousness itself (thinking is a stream of consciousness and, in such a context, directed understanding). Paraphrasing Heidegger, we say that the ontological meaning of pure human consciousness is revealed as temporality. Already after writing _Being and Time_, Heidegger thinks about the origins of the European consciousness, its comprehending from the depths (originality) of the being of European culture. _Conclusions._ The early Heidegger seeks the purity of being and, at the same time, strives more and more to understand the essence of the purity of human thinking. All of Heidegger’s work is a consistent transition from human understanding of the purity of being (Dasein) to the purity of thinking of a human himself. In this sense, there is a transformation of M. Heidegger’s consciousness from fundamental ontology (Dasein) in the early period to existential anthropology (human consciousness) in the late period. (shrink)

The issue of the European thinkers’ purity of consciousness is studied from the standpoint of the later M. Heidegger (in polemic with F.J. Gonzales and T. Sheehan). The article shows that Heidegger, having embarked upon the searching for new thinking, chooses the European thinking origins and, starting from the “Contributions to Philosophy (of the Event)”, he already refuses to distinguish between being and time, that is, he is looking for a third principle (thinking) for their joint grip. We believe (...) it is no longer the being that follows from the understanding of time, but being and time from the understanding of thinking (and even thinking of being). In this new dimension of consciousness, thinking falls into the time-like phenomenology dimension, commuting with being and time. Based on the analysis of the subsequent working of Heidegger, we can conclude that thinking must go through the metaphysics path to return to its wholeness (at the origins), but already to the existential temporal unity. Thinking, commuting with being and time, starts to bend like the light in the black hole (according to the general theory of relativity of Einstein) and split (Heidegger uses the term “the Clearing of Being”). Existential thinking is a special case of this gap. It was that new dimension of thinking that the mystics and the Eastern sages aspired to. The topos, where being is joined to time, is the ultimate (pure) thinking that has overcome ignorance or attachment to the material world. It is through this dimension we begin to understand not only what being is, but also what time is, as thinking begins to distinguish its time, it temporalizes and starts to listen to its own “breathing” or temporalization of time (Heidegger wrote about). In such dimension, thinking turns into that original topos, when all connected with being flows inherently, be it Gods, humans, or the things grasping (everyone goes the way of being). The ideas of later Heidegger suggest that thinking can appear only where the being clearly exists (and Tao in its non-manifestation). Thinking arises only in conjunction with being and a new topos (thinking of being). Thinking is the gift of the being through the clearing (interspace), the one that allows you to grasp both the being and Tao. Nevertheless, based on the later M. Heidegger, it can therefore be concluded that almost fifty years after the writing of “Being and Time”, European thinkers still have not learned to think, since what awakens true thought, what should encourage us to think, and what is associated with pure thinking, has not yet awakened. It does look as if the later Heidegger was close to the idea that time reveals not only the being but also consciousness. In the classical dimension of thinking of being beyond the boundaries, both time and the being disappear, thereby closing the path to pure thinking (to avoid the “true”). (shrink)

ABSTRACTThis essay is a response to C. Kavin Rowe's critique of my 2011 argument that certain dimensions of Roman Stoic ethics are at work in Jonathan Edwards's moral thought. Rowe raises questions about the act of selectively retrieving ideas from a philosophical tradition to support constructive work in another tradition. I argue for the importance of acknowledging how Christian thought has been shaped by what Jeffrey Stout describes as moral bricolage, the selective retrieval of ideas from various traditions, (...) and I contend that this bricolage can continue to be a fruitful means through which Christian ethics engages external traditions. Moreover, the importance of Stoicism's retrieval in early modern philosophy makes the work of eighteenth‐century theologians such as Edwards a particularly valuable resource for exploring the plausibility of Christian engagement with the Stoics. (shrink)

Today, Louis Althusser’s work knows a singular destiny. Relatively unknown until the 1992 publication of his autobiography, The Future Lasts Forever, his work has since been enriched by several volumes of previously unpublished texts, and the re-edition of works that have long been unavailable. All the conditions therefore, as suggested by the numerous works, articles and conferences dedicated to Althusser, seem to be in place for a critical reexamination of his thought. For many reasons, however, this has not been (...) the result at all. Beyond the slightly sterile polemics concerning the respective status of the “legitimate work” and the posthumous work, beyond the particularly sensitive question of the relation between biography and theory, beyond the quarrels of inheritance and the resentment towards both the man and the master, beyond the detours of a psychiatric commentary as little indifferent to the reality of the texts as of the “case,” we must admit a well-established fact: today, the field of Althusserian studies has not yet been constituted. Within the field of French philosophy, one cannot find a single profound study on the place of Althusser in the history of Marxism, the history of philosophy or epistemology. This is because this type of study more or less implicitly supposes a certain global evaluation of the kind that the work of Althusser seems particularly designed to discourage. How do we evaluate works that have not ceased to destroy themselves? How do we evaluate works so heterogeneous, in which flashes of brilliance inhabit the same space as shocking theoretical indignities? How do we bring together texts as stimulating as the celebrated, “Ideology and the Ideological Apparatus of the State,” with the rather unsettling, “On the Reproduction of the Relations of Production,” of which it is in certain details but a fragment? If the form of academic commentary seems impossible from the start, perhaps one can say the same of the project of separating the wheat from the chaff, of distinguishing “what is living and what is dead” in the work of Louis Althusser. Difficult to inscribe within the continuity of history, Althusser’s work is, in fact, irremediably enigmatic. All that passes this way, behind such fiercely proclaimed revelations, has itself formed a profoundly aporetic structure marked by the general uncertainty of any attempt at reading. For Althusser progressively destroys the theories that he could have advanced. Already troubling by itself, this phenomenon hides another even more disturbing one: there is without a doubt not a single Althusserian concept that, in its foundation, is not immediately affected by its opposite. Here we seek to show, through several limited examples, that such is the fundamental gesture of Althusser, and that it is in principle indistinguishable from his grandeur and misery. (shrink)

This entry investigates the connections between neo-populism and neo-conspiracism in the USA. One central thread is the rhetoric of purity that fosters rigid dichotomies of thought about identities, contributing to both populism and conspiracism, eliciting a neologism: conspirapopulism.

After the completion of I. Kant’s “Copernican” turn in metaphysics, all subsequent European philosophy to one degree or another was under his influence. The purpose of the article is to consider the reception and transformation of the Kantian theoretical philosophy by the Marburg school of neo-Kantianism. It is necessary to analyze the reasons for H. Cohen's and P. Natorp’s interpretation of Kant's criticism. To do this, one should consider (i) internalist and (ii) externalist factors in the formation of the Marburg (...) School. Neo-Kantianism, on the one hand, emerged as a response to materialism, naturalism, and post-Kantian German idealism. In addition, the Marburg School was strongly influenced by the change in the scientific paradigm in mathematical natural science at the end of the 19th century. The justification by the Marburgers of Kant’s a priori doctrine presupposed thematization, first of all, of: a) purity of thought; b) systematic unity of thought and experience; c) the orientation of philosophy to the “fact of science”; d) transcendental method. As a result, the Marburg School interpreted the Kantian concept of the unity of consciousness; abandoned the principle of synthetic (real) unity of consciousness in favor of systematic (logical) unity; substantiated the purity of scientific thinking; put forward the requirement of orientation of philosophy to the “fact of science”; developed the concept of the origin of thinking (Ursprung); abandoned the idea of “givenness” of the subject of knowledge and proved its “assignment”; changed the understanding of the essence and functions of the transcendental method; put forward the concept of thinking as “generation” (“production”); formulated a new understanding a priori. The changes that took place in the 19th century in philosophy, mathematical natural science and mathematical sciences led to a sharp activation of constructivism. It can be concluded that Kant’s epistemological paradigm was realistic constructivism. Pure constructivism became the paradigm of the Marburg School. (shrink)

Foucault’s 1970–71 lectures at the Collège de France, The Will to Know, highlight the significance of themes of purity and impurity in Western thought. Reflecting on these themes coincided with the emergence of Foucault’s theory of power. This article presents the first analysis of Foucault’s investigation of purity and impurity in The Will to Know lectures, identifying the distinctive theory Foucault offers of purity as a discursive apparatus addressing correspondence between the subject and the truth through (...) the image of relative integrity or mixture. It then traces Foucault’s subsequent reflections on these themes in his later writings on disciplinary power. The implications of Foucault’s position are considered; the article will close by putting Foucault’s ideas in dialogue with those of Kristeva, and in considering the role that purity and impurity may play in resistance. (shrink)

In his penetrating and thought-provoking article “What Is Logic?” Ian Hacking flags an issue that he leaves undiscussed.

The theme of essential futility, absurdity, utter incomprehensibility of life and death is stressed in almost allthe writings of Albert Camus. Like Buddha he was shocked by the sight of human misery and mortality. Yet, paradoxically was attracted to the essential desirability of it. Although completely ruffled by the consciousness of an ambiguous and silent God, he was not unaware of “that strange joy that comes from a tranquil conscience”, a perfect inner harmony one experiences on attaining true knowledge. Upanishads (...) are a search for this very reality underlying the flux of things. Malraux, Sartre, and others had already developed this line of thought before Camus. What is essential and original in him is, firstly, that the world’s absurdity not a cause for despair, but on the contrary, a spur to happiness. And secondly, that , mortality and suffering actually enhance the value of life: they invite men to live more intensely. In addition to absurdity another subject the Upanishads insistently deal with is ethics, the purity of human conduct. Very much in the manner of the Existentialists, the Upanishads, aeons before, hold man himself responsible for his actions. Dr. Radhakrishnan, very aptly says that Existentialism is a new name for an ancient method. In Albert Camus and India Sharad Chandra has put forward a convincing comparative study of the two philosophies as expounded in their respective literatures. Her argument is that the parallel ideas found in the two views are not mere fortuitous conclusions but, either the result of seminal influence, or emanation of a common, deeper vision. Reading of the book will help the reader to form a firm opinion. Camus had read the Gita and had attended the lectures given by Swami Shraddhananda of the Ramakrishna Mission in Paris. (shrink)

This note addresses 3 issues that seem to pervade much of economic thought about individual decisions among uncertain alternatives: (1) Restricting primitives to just orderings of first-order gambles and not admitting, e.g., compound acts or joint receipt of consequences and gambles. (2) Great resistance to experimental findings that strongly suggest that most current theories fail descriptively. (3) Taking for granted the innocence of some assumptions when, in fact, they are not innocent, e.g., that constant acts are idempotent. My conclusion (...) is that these restrictions have greatly inhibited developments in utility theory. (shrink)

In this paper I examine the moral psychology of the Phaedo and argue that the philosophical life in this dialogue is a temperate life, and that temperance consists in exercising epistemic discernment by actively withdrawing assent from incorrect evaluations the body inclines us to make. Philosophers deal with bodily affections by taking a correct epistemic stance. Exercising temperance thus understood is a necessary condition both for developing and strengthening rational capacities, and for fixing accurate beliefs about value. The purification philosophers (...) strive for, and the purifying role of philosophy, should then be understood as a clarificatory act consisting in making one’s thoughts clear and withdrawing assent from erroneous evaluative content in our desires and pleasures. Along the way, I argue that philosophers must neither avoid situations and activities that cause bodily affections as much as possible, nor ignore or care little about them. (shrink)

It has become commonplace within feminist theory to claim that women’s lives are constructed by multiple, intersecting systems of oppression. In this thesis, I challenge the consensus that oppression is aptly captured by the theoretical model of “intersectionality.” While intersectionality originates in Black feminist thought as a purposive intervention into US antidiscrimination law, it has been detached from that context and harnessed to different representational aims. For instance, it is often asserted that intersectionality enables a representational politics that overcomes (...) legacies of exclusion within hegemonic Anglo-American feminism. I argue that intersectionality reinscribes the political exclusion of racialized women as a feature of their embodied identities. That is, it locates the failure of political representation in the “complex” identities of “intersectional” subjects, who are constructed as unrepresentable in terms of “race” or “gender” alone. Further, I argue that intersectionality fails to supplant race- and class-privileged women as the normative subjects of feminist theory and politics. In Chapter One, I demonstrate that intersectionality illicitly imports unitary concepts of “race,” “gender,” and “class.” In Chapter Two, I argue that intersectionality lacks a theory of hierarchy: it is a “flat geography” which cannot capture vertical and horizontal lines of power. In Chapter Three, I explore the role of analogical reasoning in rendering racialized women invisible both as gendered and as racialized subjects in twentieth-century social movements. To concretize this argument, I turn to Simone de Beauvoir’s use of race-sex analogies to describe (white, bourgeois) “women’s” situation in The Second Sex. In Chapter Four, I advance a programmatic unified account of oppression. I suggest that the possibility of a unified theory (as opposed to an intersectional one) is intimated in the concrete articulation of race, class, and gender. My point of departure is a phenomenology of capitalism, which reveals that these are all fundamentally modes of exploitation and appropriation. In Chapter Five, I theorize how they are made visible (and invisible) on the body. I extend Frantz Fanon’s account of “epidermalization,” drawing upon the marxian concepts of “fetishism” and “mode of appearance” to elaborate four structures of gendered racialized perception: first, the “miscegenation taboo” structures perceptions of the “purity” of whiteness and the “polluting” effects of blackness. Whiteness, theorised as a “possessive investment” and as “property” is defined by the right to exclude. Second, the “episteme of tellable differences” produces the conviction that we can automatically “tell the difference” between a body placed in one “racial” or gender category, and another—while bodies that temporarily confound classification cause fear and consternation. Third, the “race/reproduction bind” names the axiomatic assumption that “race” is reproduced through (heterosexual) procreation and that “race” is, therefore, biologically inheritable. Finally, the “fear/criminalisation reflex” refers to the bidirectional equation of particular racialised-gendered bodies with crime, and of crime with those bodies; this a function of the discursive use of ‘crime’ as an alibi for “race’” the systemic racialisation of punitive carceral institutions, and the historical origins of “race” in transatlantic chattel slavery, which shaped perceptual-cognitive associations of freedom with whiteness and captivity with blackness. (shrink)

Excerpt: IT will lead into my subject most conveniently to contrast and separate two divergent types of mind, types which are to be distinguished chiefly by their attitude toward time, and more particularly by the relative importance they attach and the relative amount of thought they give to the future. The first of these two types of mind, and it is, I think, the predominant type, the type of the majority of living people, is that which seems scarcely to (...) think of the future at all, which regards it as a sort of blank non-existence upon which the advancing present will presently write events. The second type, which is, I think, a more modern and much less abundant type of mind, thinks constantly and by preference of things to come, and of present things mainly in relation to the results that must arise from them. The former type of mind, when one gets it in its purity, is retrospective in habit, and it interprets the things of the present, and gives value to this and denies it to that, entirely with relation to the past. The latter type of mind is constructive in habit, it interprets the things of the present and gives value to this or that, entirely in relation to things designed or foreseen. While from that former point of view our life is simply to reap the consequences of the past, from this our life is to prepare the future. The former type one might speak of as the legal or submissive type of mind, because the business, the practice, and the training of a lawyer dispose him toward it; he of all men must constantly refer to the law made, the right established, the precedent set, and consistently ignore or condemn the thing that is only seeking to establish itself. The latter type of mind I might for contrast call the legislative, creative, organizing, or masterful type, because it is perpetually attacking and altering the established order of things, perpetually falling away from respect for what the past has given us. It sees the world as one great workshop, and the present is no more than material for the future, for the thing that is yet destined to be. It is in the active mood of thought, while the former is in the passive; it is the mind of youth, it is the mind more manifest among the western nations, while the former is the mind of age, the mind of the oriental. Things have been, says the legal mind, and so we are here. The creative mind says we are here because things have yet to be. Now I do not wish to suggest that the great mass of people belong to either of these two types. Indeed, I speak of them as two distinct and distinguishable types mainly for convenience and in order to accentuate their distinction. There are probably very few people who brood constantly upon the past without any thought of the future at all, and there are probably scarcely any who live and think consistently in relation to the future. The great mass of people occupy an intermediate position between these extremes, they pass daily and hourly from the passive mood to the active, they see this thing in relation to its associations and that thing in relation to its consequences, and they do not even suspect that they are using two distinct methods in their minds. As well known as HG Wells is for his science fiction, this is simply HG Wells discussing our view of the present and the future and various nuances related to both. Very interesting. (shrink)

Against expectations, Kierkegaard turns out to have sometimes been a phenomenologist. Specifically in his "Edifying Discourses," though perhaps elsewhere, one finds a style of thinking and the interpretive rigor both close to some features of Husserlian and Heideggerian thought, and more capable of handling religious phenomena. Where is a matter of purity of heart and willing one thing, it is of course a matter of desire. One may read the first of the "Edifying Discourses" as a phenomenological approach (...) to various modalities of Christian life - the paradoxical, the enigmatic, and the oblique - by which what cannot be contained solely within being and appearing nonetheless enters there and upsets its conventions. But to pass from Husserl and Heidegger to Kierkegaard is to arrive at a perspective from which the security of the starting point is no longer evident. /// Ao contrário daquilo que normalmente se espera, Kierkegaard revela-se frequentemente um verdadeiro fenomenólogo. Particularmente nos seus "Discursos Edificantes", ainda que talvez noutros lugares também, podemos encontrar um estilo de pensar e o rigor interpretativo próximos de algumas características do pensamento quer de Husserl quer de Heidegger, e capaz de lidar com fenómenos de índole religiosa. Ora onde quer que se trate da pureza do coração e de querer apenas uma coisa, o assunto tem a ver com desejo. Nesse sentido, o autor do artigo sugere uma leitura do primeiro dos "Discursos Edificantes" como sendo uma abordagem fenomenológica a diversas modalidades da vida cristã - a paradoxal, a enigmática, e a oblíqua - mediante as quais aquilo que não pode ser contido apenas dentro do ser e do aparecer, contudo, aí aparece e subleva as suas convenções. Mas passar de Husserl e Heidegger para Kierkegaard, diz o autor, é chegar a uma perspectiva a partir da qual a segurança do ponto de partida não é mais evidente. (shrink)

I first argue that Kant must consider the question of forgiveness by tracing his thought from the concept of the purity of practical reason, through the postulate of God’s existence, and to the relations between God and humanity as both merciful and as just. I then examine the text where he recognizes the paradoxical relation of justice and mercy. Ultimately, the existence of the world displays a mercy which suspends strictest justice. Kant refuses to think through this paradox, (...) and I argue that his refusal reflects his more basic compulsion to make ethics rational. The consequences of the paradox are a limitation of autonomy. (shrink)

I first argue that Kant must consider the question of forgiveness by tracing his thought from the concept of the purity of practical reason, through the postulate of God’s existence, and to the relations between God and humanity as both merciful and as just. I then examine the text where he recognizes the paradoxical relation of justice and mercy. Ultimately, the existence of the world displays a mercy which suspends strictest justice. Kant refuses to think through this paradox, (...) and I argue that his refusal reflects his more basic compulsion to make ethics rational. The consequences of the paradox are a limitation of autonomy. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:94 Feminist Studies 45, no. 1. © 2019 by Hannah Baker Saltmarsh Hannah Baker Saltmarsh This Girl I Lost Touch With This girl, who was afraid to enter a room— a girl born in the woods, on moss, whose family dreamt under quilts, who wore dresses that matched anything fabric in the house, even the dresses without loneliness— I held her hand in the corridor-dark until the speaking-in-tongues at (...) the community college dispersed into prayers with too many gerunds and too much fervor that wouldn’t adjust if you got a thousand dollars in the mail or jury duty, faith subtle as a crucifix the size of God on the highway. I waited with her until it was over, although the prayer group was never really over. Over rooms of crowded, faith-based humidity, she loved corridors of woods, the rushes of running away. This girl and I, we were cult-lured, but then the leader stepped down—was it porn, alcohol? He drove us around in a red jeep without doors— the first time I drove in a man’s car, I was eighteen so I fell in love: looking straight ahead together, arm hair touching, the cathedral of autumn anticipating a shape to hold you, the wind that you sometimes hollered over. What happened I can’t see, but when he left the group, I left: the death of visions. Hannah Baker Saltmarsh 95 This girl could long for a man in her fingernails, and, without talking, take a man from his pregnant wife’s side, have his even newer children, this girl who wouldn’t go in a room all alone, walked right in, somewhere we’ve not been, and never left. Monostich in Praise of Four Missed Foul Shots in a Row, Ending with a Line by Shaquille O’Neal —Orlando Magic vs. Houston Rockets, Game 1, NBA Final, 1995 Each mistake at the foul line longs to be its own distinct trip-up, divorced from the tragic-comic failure automatic-reflex of a protagonist on a shame-rampage; each delicate flaw of glass, net, rim wants to be denied once at the charity line, once and only once of red-lipsticked points, the naive purity of one aberrant error in calculation—not bring bleacher-crowds to their feet, posterless hands in the vaulted air before tallying Nick Anderson up as Brick Anderson, most hated NBA player of all time, and by his own fans not believing their own eyes as a series of empty arcs toward scoring dovetails into quadruple humiliations and a goofy smile of gutted hopes and boyish fear-tangled awe that any brain so practiced (for this and what else?) could fail so many times in a row, each fail better and Beckett-harder until the last exit out of obliterating loss is part of the abyss too, unless you are quick on your feet for sports broadcasting... but there is no end to swindled championships if you are a man who’s never had to face the extinction of his early twenties or suck the aftertaste of multi-millionaire juice cocktails poured with a legend’s touch, but in the soapy-sweet glass of your Dixie cup liquor, however close to the sound of Shaq’s name spoken in every language, stares your same lovesick reflection in the welt of that shot-glass mirror, mouthing the bitters of paranoid distraction, unripe manhood, aged ingratitude, and a starless Orlando Magic blue diamond broomed over by nursery-rhyme witches brushing out the cobweb-haze because the crowd is always the same crowd calling you swept... each fumbling error of pressure you let get to you, if only it could be a plotless, lyric monostich without arc, not driven to the plot that is your grave, where the unfaithful, the murderers, liars, and cheaters are defined by threads, no, snapped pieces, of seconds and, as Dante would have it, sorted in hell by a singular thought or deed so 96 Hannah Baker Saltmarsh transformative as to name you; the blue and white jersey on the floor, fists and feet, knees and elbows vacuumed in tantrum, hyped up in the court glare and... (shrink)

In Aesthetics in Arabic Thought from Pre-Islamic Arabia through al-Andalus José Miguel Puerta Vílchez analyzes the discourses about beauty, the arts, and sense perception that arose within classical Arab culture from pre-Islamic poetry and the Quran (sixth-seventh centuries CE) to the Alhambra palace in Granada (fourteenth century CE). He focuses on the contributions of such great thinkers as Ibn Ḥazm, Avempace, Ibn Ṭufayl, Averroes, Ibn ʻArabī, and Ibn Khaldūn in al-Andalus, and the Brethren of Purity, al-Tawḥīdī, al-Fārābī, Avicenna, (...) Alhazen, and al-Ghazālī in the East. The work also explores literary criticism, calligraphy, music, belles-lettres (adab), and erotic literature, and highlights the contribution of Arab humanism to shaping the field of Aesthetics in the West. (shrink)

The Wang-Chang-Chiang-Yao counterrevolutionary "Gang of Four" carried out revisionism, sowed seeds of discord and resorted to intrigues and plots in an attempt to usurp the Party, seize power, and restore capitalism. Ambition is the source of hypocrisy and falsehood and, of course, of the hypocrisy and falsehood of metaphysics and idealism. The more audacious the "Gang of Four's" ambition to usurp the Party and seize power became, the more barefaced its manifestation of metaphysics and idealism was. Metaphysics and idealism were (...) the faulty ideological weapons they used in the attempt to usurp the Party and seize power. We must follow Chairman Mao's teachings to liquidate the "Gang of Four's" counterrevolutionary revisionist political and ideological line and its crime of impudently trampling on Marxist-Leninist philosophy and Chairman Mao's glorious philosophical thought and protect the purity of Marxism. (shrink)

continent. 1.1 (2011): 60-67. At the beginning of Martin Heidegger’s lecture “Time and Being,” presented to the University of Freiburg in 1962, he cautions against, it would seem, the requirement that philosophy make sense, or be necessarily responsible (Stambaugh, 1972). At that time Heidegger's project focused on thinking as thinking and in order to elucidate his ideas he drew comparisons between his project and two paintings by Paul Klee as well with a poem by Georg Trakl. In front of Klee's (...) Saints from the Window and Death of Fire —though we wouldn’t absolutely understand what we were seeing—he writes, “we should want to stand…a long while.” In a similar manner, of Trakl’s poem “Septet of Death”—although it is likely we are unsure in what we hear—Heidegger states that, “we should want to hear…[it] often.” Heidegger further states that in appreciating these, “we “should abandon any claim that [they] be immediately intelligible” (1). So also we must we approach, Heidegger continues, the realm of theoretical physics, in which the difficult work of Werner Heisenberg, be listened to “without protest” and without “any claim that he be immediately understood.” These works, like his own project, merit the time they take to be originally (mis)understood. But this is not necessarily true for philosophy, Heidegger advises, because, “That thinking is supposed to offer ‘worldly wisdom’ and perhaps even a ‘way to a blessed life’” (1). Philosophy is in the unique position of being both abstract (what do we talk about when we talk?) and at the same moment, useful. There are demands that it make sense, that it be, grounded, immediate, and most importantly, rational. Heidegger draws these comparisons between the works of Klee and Trakl and Heisenberg not to claim that philosophy is totally irresponsible. He does not claim that the poet, the painter, nor the physicist have acted irresponsibly. Rather, he would say, they are rising to the highest levels of intelligibility, though it is perhaps an intelligibility that is commonly unavailable to us. In Trakl’s case, as we shall see, mastery is the end result of difficult words. Instead, Heidegger seems be making pleas: for a period of uninterrupted unintelligibility (pure unintelligibility); and that there is a time (that time is now) when, “thinking is…placed in a position which demands of it reflections that are far removed from any useful, practical wisdom” (1-2). Heidegger argues that philosophy requires a period of time in which, instead of focusing on the practical—or even on the worldly—the discipline draw its “determination” instead from the place of painting and poetry and physics. In doing so, “we should have to abandon any claims to immediate intelligibility” (2). But Heidegger doesn’t offer this as a way out. We still have to turn up, we “still have to listen, because we must think what is inevitable, but preliminary” (2). The point for Heidegger, is not to listen to a series of propositions, but instead to “follow the movement of showing” (2). I. … Maybe we're here only to say: house, bridge, well, gate, jug, olive tree, window— at most: pillar, tower … but to say them, remember, oh, to say them in a way that the things themselves never dreamed of existing so intensely.… Rainer Maria Rilke, “The Ninth Elegy” There is little more fundamental, preliminary, in the world than language. We use language, in the form of speech, constantly, whether we are saying anything or not. “Man speaks,” Heidegger writes, and goes on to describe in his essay “Language” (2001) the constant speaking that we do. “We are always speaking, even when we do not utter a single word aloud, but merely listen or read, and even when we are not particularly speaking or listening but are attending to some work or taking a rest” (187). Speaking is expression, an utterance of something internal. It is a recognition of a world. It is a way of communicating thought and it is an activity that we all do, inevitably. Speaking separates the human from the animal world, and despite advances in primatology that seek to give ‘voice’ to primates and other non-human animals, it can safely be said that our form of communication—what we call speech and know as language—is the most advanced, the most complicated. We use it to present and represent the world around us; through actual utterances (vocalization) or through the written word or through ‘unvoiced thoughts’ and dreams. We use language, but more specifically speech—naming—to transmit moods, thoughts, desires, aversions, and feelings. These expressions, mere utterances, nearly always find a source in words, whether spoken or not. Heidegger writes that this common view of language means “that only speech enables man to be the living being he is as man. It is as the one who speaks that man is—man” (187). Speaking then—utterance—surrounds us constantly, whether in the form of careful thought—in the form of an academic paper, say—or in the half mutterings and forgotten thoughts of a nearly remembered dream. Like scaffolding, the apparatus of speech sustains and explains the world, making, in a sense, the world rational, making it apparent. When we speak, we describe, and in doing so, name the world. We use words, through this process of naming, to interpret and sustain the world we see, and the world we imagine. Like Rilke’s naming of jug, and bridge, and window, and stream, we describe—and inscribe upon—the world through an activity of naming. Are we here, perhaps, to name? Is it possible not to name? Is it possible to regard and to view and to look around without naming what we see? Is it possible to feel—to experience—world without giving utterance to that feeling, that process? Sadness, grief, joy, ecstasy, hunger, thirst. Desk, light, room, pen, book, world. White, black, tomorrow, today. Each of these words is a name given to a thing I see in front of me, or a concept that I imagine (in the case of tomorrow or world). What arises in my mind has already existed. If I imagine it, it is named. The word for ‘tomorrow’ and ‘desk’ and ‘light’ precedes me, and precedes my concept of it. The idea of it is already pre-informed, and I must, in a certain sense, bend my ideas to it. When I imagine a table, I imagine my own table (or I imagine an idea of table) but that imagining must follow certain general rules; while, perhaps, it might not always require four legs and a horizontal surface, it must, at least not be, say, a pool of water, or a pile of excrement. It must have some tableness to it to be a table. It must, with Heidegger, table. Otherwise, speech is reduced to gibberish. For Heidegger however, the discussion of language points to something deeper than its “scientific and analytic” study as a communicative device. Indeed, Heidegger seeks to understand language not in reference to man or woman, not as an utterance of humanity, but in reference to itself. In doing so he abandons the conversation—that is, he casts away the traditional arguments surrounding philosophy of language; that it is a means of expression; that it is a human activity; and that it is somehow a representation of something that is—in order to seek to understand language as language, on its own terms. Heidegger is not a philosopher of language, but a philosopher of world, of being. Despite these “correct ideas” holding sway “over the whole field of the varied scientific perspectives on language…they ignore completely the oldest natural cast of language” (191). What is this “oldest natural cast of language? It is the act of language itself. Language is language and language speaks. “Most often,” Heidegger writes, “and too often, we encounter what is spoken only as the residue of a speaking long past” (195). Speech, as we normally encounter it, is like Echo herself calling out to Narcissus, doomed to repeat what has already been said, a mere remnant of what was once language, a trace left behind in the gathering silence of becoming. In both the essay “Language” and in his three lecture course “The Nature of Language” (1982), Heidegger attempts to unpack the seeming tautology of language as language. In each, he focuses on poetry as a way out, or into, a true discussion of the oldest natural cast of language. Poetry is pure speech. In poetry, language is brought to language and language speaks ( Die Sprach spricht ). In the act of poetry, the act of pure speech, the poet names (on the surface not different from how I name this table, this computer) but in the poet naming, the naming does not “hand out titles,” “apply terms,” but rather the naming is a call, a calling forth of entities that bring them into their own, allow them to take their place purely, without compromise. This calling, Heidegger (2001) states, “here calls into a nearness. But even so the call does not wrest what it calls away from the remoteness, in which it is kept by the calling there. The calling calls into itself and therefor always here and there—here into presence, there into absence” (196). II. Window with falling snow is arrayed, Long tolls the vesper bell, The house is provided well, The table is for many laid. Wandering ones, more than a few, Come to the door on darksome courses. Golden blooms the tree of graces Drawing up the earth’s cool dew. Wanderer quietly steps within; Pain has turned the threshold to stone. There lie, in limpid brightness shown, Upon the table bread and wine. Georg Trakl “A Winter Evening” Heidegger is often given short shrift as an abysmally difficult writer, as one that makes no sense and is needlessly difficult. In doing this though, we forget sometimes his eloquence, his simple beauty in writing. Of the above opening stanza, “Window with falling snow is arrayed/ Long tolls the vesper bell.” he writes (2001), This speaking names the snow that soundlessly strikes the window late in the waning day, while the vesper bell rings. In such a snowfall, everything lasts longer. Therefore the vesper bell, which daily rings for a strictly fixed time, tolls long. The speaking names the winter evening time (197). The speaking names the winter evening time. It is almost impossible to comment on that one line by Heidegger. It is as though it must exist on its own completely, without elucidation—as though in front of it we must stand as we do in front of a painting by Klee, that is, we must abandon any claim . Silent and devoted. The speaking of the poem here is not clearly different from common speech ( rede ) yet there is, via Heidegger, an invitation to experience that auracular quality of light and stillness that a gentle, dusk tinged snowfall gives; words evoking a quality so clear, so poignant that, in a sense, Heidegger’s work, at this moment, has been done. But what does this naming accomplish? What does the call call? Remember, it is not the poet that calls, but the naming which calls. The poet has only brought the words forward; it is now the words— snow, vesper bell, window— that take new life in the pure language of the poem. Entities are called forth into presence, like the speaking that names the winter evening time. Not to be present amongst us now, however; naming ‘table’ in the poem does not place it in front of us in this room. Rather, the naming places entities into a gathering which is also a sheltering. The naming brings them to be. In an act of appropriation, things come to be purely as their own, unimpeded by a predetermined expectation. They are called to themselves into an arrival. In Being and Time (1962), Heidegger famously describes the movement between present-at-hand and ready-to-hand in his analysis of the hammer, and of equipment in general. This analysis is already known, if not always clear, to most readers of Heidegger. Briefly, a hammer is ordinarily zuhanden or ready-to-hand; it is part of the background of the world, equipment used and never thought about, like this desk, this sheet of paper, this room. Our interaction with it is temporary and it is historically different for each entity and each relation. We need a hammer, we use a hammer. If all goes according to plan, the hammer remains ready-to-hand; it remains, in a sense, undisclosed and certainly unobtrusive. Our world is undisturbed by the hammer. Only when the hammer or the car or the computer is broken (or sometimes unused or unrecognized or missing) does it intrude into our world, become conspicuous as an object present-at-hand, or vorhanden . In this case, we reach for the hammer, it is broken and we suddenly notice it’s being, broken though it is. The thing which was always ready to hand—handy—is suddenly abstract, something to be examined, if only in its absence or disfunction. This can be exhibited for all entities, and it is important to note that in this analysis the zuhanden / vorhanden split is not restricted to a specific form of constructed material; zuhanden does not refer to the car, and vorhanden the sunset. No entity is ever exclusively ready-to-hand or present-at-hand; they are instead, interpenetrated with each others mode of being, one informing the other in a way that both brings things forth into the world—discloses is the word Heidegger chooses—and at the same time conceals them. As one mode is coming to be so another mode is withdrawing. This flux and movement between modes is precisely what brings the world forward, and what makes it manifest. It exists beyond where we tread and before man took dubious control of the world. We go to find a book or turn on the computer and it is missing or broken and we become aware of the object, as though for the first time. We walk to the water to glimpse the sunset and miss it, or it is less than stellar; in the sunset’s grayness, we become aware of it’s being sunset. The thing is disclosed in its withdrawal. Echoing Heraclitus, we can say that as something is coming to be, it is already becoming something other. Of similar importance to the fact that things are never all of one, or all of the other, they are also never alone. The hammer is never a single object, but is in relation always to the whole. Heidegger (1962) states, Equipment—in accordance with its equipmentality—always is in terms of its belonging to other equipment: ink-stand, pen, ink, paper, blotting pad, table, lamp, furniture, windows, doors, room. These ‘Things’ never show themselves proximally as they are for themselves…What we encounter as closest to us…is the room; and we encounter it not as something ‘between four walls’ in a geometrical, spatial sense, but as equipment for residing…it is in this that any ‘individual’ item of equipment shows itself. Before its does so, a totality of equipment has already been discovered (97). Equipment resides—dwells—in its relations, in its proximal being to other beings. Within the structure of totality, a series of relations is always occurring. The hammer is on the workbench in the carpenter’s hand in the workshop in the village under the sky and under the sun. It doesn’t stop there. Equipment surrounds us and the focus is not on what it does, or what one does with it—the carpenter with the hammer, the writer with laptop—but with the fact that it is. Equipment occurs in relation and is always occurring around us overhead, underfoot, by the stream and in the city. There is a constant exchange of relations happening, and as this occurs, so the world occurs, so the world both discloses and withdraws, into and out of itself. In a very real sense, language is also equipment. It is the thing that we use most often without thought, it is ready-to-hand (except when it’s not.) As we re- cognize the world around us, as we offer names for things and make lists, we are using language much like we might use a hammer, that is, bluntly. Most of the time it is invisible and we draw on it without wondering how we are going to say something. When language does intrude, it does so in an awkward moment, that moment when we can’t remember the right word, when we forget a phrase. At that second, it “speaks itself as language,” it reveals itself as malfunctioning equipment, and we “undergo” an experience with language, in Heidegger’s famous formulation. Language is not a tool anymore that we use to bludgeon an object, but something instead that we submit to, that we experience. In “The Nature of Language,” Heidegger (1982) writes, But when does language speak to us as language? Curiously enough, when we cannot find the right word for something that concerns us, carries us away, oppresses or encourages us. Then we leave unspoken what we have in mind and, without rightly giving it a thought, undergo moments in which language itself has distantly and fleetingly touched us with its essential being (59). The poet’s words become themselves, become appropriate, only when they no longer function in the prosaic world; they instead intrude as they come to be. Language itself brings itself to language. Names, like the entities they indicate, are always becoming something else. As noted above, language, through the poet, has brought forth entities from words previously “known.” I thought that I knew snow, but through Trakl’s re- presentation of the word, language calls forth a new image of snow, indeed calls forth snow itself. The vesper bell tolls longer, the table is for many laid. In bringing forth things , language has brought the world to presence. In everyday naming, word occludes world, preventing, in its everydayness, its coming forth, its disclosing. But what is this world that word has been brought forth into? In the same way that language speaks, world worlds. World, left alone, un-interfered with, comes into itself. It worlds. Again, this sounds like a tautology, but it is essential to Heidegger’s thought (and in my mind is more of a “god killer” than Nietzsche.) One of the most overlooked (and under-appreciated) aspects of Heidegger is his later examination and enthusiasm for the “fourfold,” or the system through which things come to be, through which things thing in a world worlding. The fourfold is the interaction of earth and sky, mortals and gods. Things come to be in the interstices and gathering of the fourfold. The fourfold provides both a place of being, and a sheltering, a place to dwell. Heidegger writes that “the things that were named, thus called, gather to themselves sky and earth, mortals and divinities. The four are united primally in being toward one another, a fourfold.” The poet has called, through the act of pure naming, things to come forth. In the purity of the fourfold—that is, when that is all that there is, when there are no other distractions, definitions, things—entities themselves can come to be. It is important to note that Heidegger is not saying that there are four formal things in the world, autonomous entities unto themselves. He is not evoking a pre-Socratic formula as to what makes up the world; instead, the four mirror each other constantly. (Heidegger calls this the ‘mirror-play.’) They interpenetrate in the same way that the modes of being of things interpenetrate themselves. There is no discrete exclusivity in being or the fourfold. What makes up things is not a precise recipe of the four main components; what makes up things is the action of the fourfold coming together, the movement of the fourfold which is a becoming. Heidegger (2001) writes that “this gathering, assembling, letting stay is the thinging of things.” And he later adds that “thinging, things are things. Thinging, they gesture—gestate—world” (197). Language brings the world to be. It works not again as a recipe added to things, but instead it is a bridge, or more precisely, a relation. Language relates world to thing, brings world to thing. In a sense, it does not say anything; rather it allows, or calls in its movement. Heidegger (2001) writes that, The intimacy of world and thing is not a fusion. Intimacy obtains only where the intimate—world and thing—divides itself cleanly and remains separated. In the midst of the two, in the between of world and thing, in their inter, division prevails: a dif-ference (199). It is in this inter that language prevails. Language is difference, it is the differential aspect between world and thing that brings world to thing. In the final stanza of Trakl’s poem “The Winter Evening,” Trakl evokes this difference in the second line when he writes, “Pain has turned the threshold to stone.” Christopher Fynsk, in his essay “Noise at the Threshold,” draws attention to this point when he writes “it is the figure of the threshold that is language itself, inasmuch as language is defined as the articulation of difference by which difference comes about” (25). Language, as used in the pure language of the poem, draws together world and thing, bridging relation between entity and world. The calling of language calls world to thing, world to being. Heidegger (2001) describes this difference as unique; “of itself, it holds apart the middle in and through which world and things are at one with each other” (200). III. Neither reading nor writing, nor speaking—and yet it is by those paths that we escape what has been said already, and knowledge, and reciprocity, and enter the unknown space, the space of distress where what is given is perhaps not received by anyone (99). Maurice Blanchot The Writing of Disaster So far, we have allowed Heidegger to put forward what language does, how it functions as a relation and how it operates as a threshold, as a bridge. What interests me is what happens beyond language, beyond the relation. What happens to the thing without the naming, without the poet, or even without the everyday chatter—Fynsk calls this ‘noise’—intruding on being? If language allows things to become by bringing thing to world, what happens when we remove this bringing, this threshold turned to pain? In “The Nature of Language,” Heidegger examines the work of the poet Stefan George, specifically “The Word”: Wonder or dream from distant land I carried to my county’s strand And waited till the twilight norn Had found the name within her bourn— Then I could grasp it close and strong It blooms and shines now the front along… Once I returned from happy sail, I had a prize so rich and frail, She sought for long and tidings told: “No like of these depths unfold.” And straight it vanished from my hand, The treasure never graced my land… So I renounced and sadly see: Where word breaks off no thing may be. That final line, “Where word breaks off no thing may be” is evoked on nearly every page of Heidegger’s essay. It is the line to which he returns over and over and bears repeating. Where word breaks off no thing may be. Where naming ends, no thing. We can interpret this in two ways (at least.) Where word—naming—breaks off, then there is nothing . Or, as I choose to read it, where word breaks off no thing may be. In this I see a hint forward, a marker left behind by Heidegger. What could this look like? What does no thing look like? Like a zen koan ( there is no mirror ) it is as thrilling and horrifying as contemplating what preceded the Big Bang. Because language as naming wasn’t always here; we weren’t always here. One or maybe two aspects of the fourfold (depending on your view of gods) were not always here, and there is no guarantee that we will always be around. What then? Heidegger (1982) describes the landscape that the poet finds, “It names the realm into which the renunciation must enter: it names the call to enter into that relation between thing and word which has now been experienced” (65). The poet, in renouncing, allows for the “may be” of “where word breaks off no thing may be.” This “may be” becomes “a kind of imperative, a command which the poet follows, to keep it from then on.” No thing is lacking. Where word breaks off, there may be, a totality, a completion. If we place the emphasis on may be , we make it affirmative, make it positive. One allows it. No thing is where the word, that is the name, is lacking. If we remove then (if we can remove) the word, the name, than that is where no thing is, that is where no thing may blossom, enrich, belong, become. What is no thing? Heidegger writes that “thing is anything that in any way is.” And just after this he writes that the “world alone gives being to the thing.” But what happens if there is no word? Word, in this formulation can be seen as an enframing, a challenging of language. By naming, by drawing a perimeter around an object, we hold it, by its definition (that is a brick) to an ordered future. If we borrow from Heidegger’s essay “The Question Concerning Technology” (1993) the idea of this standing-reserve of an ordered future, we see that “everywhere everything is ordered to stand by, to be immediately on hand, indeed to stand there just so that it may be on call for a further ordering” (322). What happens if there is no naming of the thing? Silence perhaps. Stillness. We can name—and do name—that which we know. We equate knowledge with knowing the name of something. A brick is a brick, a hammer is a hammer, the universe is the universe. By naming a thing, we create, and draw its parameters, the parameters of the thing, not as thing thinging in the fourfold, but as blunt object apparent. In the four dimensions relatively available to us, we observe (and name) that the brick takes up possibly six by four by two inches and is, in the sense that it currently occupies this time slot. It fulfills its destiny, its being, its brickness, it bricks . But what happens when we remove the name for this brick. We no longer know what to call this no-thing (if indeed we can even arrive at the point of uncalled calling.) In fact the it (this brick) is no longer a thing in the sense that by not naming—by removing the name—it still occupies the same dimension but is indiscernible from the world. It simply is , un-reliant, un- needed by me. By removing the subject (me) from it (the brick) do I not then also remove the object—or at least the duality objectifying it? Why is this important? Why does this matter? I have not really removed anything. I have not changed any thing , per se . The brick still occupies the same space in geographic and temporal dimensions. I have literally not even touched the brick sitting on my desk. But what I have done is removed the name, removed the word (the bridge, according to Heidegger) and in this (again, if this is even possible) there is something vertiginously liberating, not only for me (and my way of thinking) but also for the brick itself. Like the poet who calls the thing forward, by refusing to name, by avoiding any thing that demands me to name it, I release the thing into the fourfold. I am no longer challenging the thing to be there for me ; I do not en frame it through language. Rather I, in an act of extreme responsibility, am refusing the challenge. By refusing the name (refusing to name) one allows, (or no one allows no thing) the brick to be all things , to manifest its manifold being, to incorporate all things into its thinging . It becomes, quite literally, every thing . Because, in its infinite manifestness, it incorporates everything; the mud that gave it its current being, the water that formed the mud, the sun, the stars, the universe and it also allows it to become mud again, to become landfill, to become again, water and sun and stars and universe in an endless, infinite cycle of coming to be some thing (else). Perhaps this is what Heidegger is suggesting when he talks about the stillness at the end of his essay, “Language” (2001): The dif-ference stills particularly in two ways: it stills the things in thinging and the world in worlding. Thus stilled, thing and world never escape from the dif-ference. Rather, they rescue it in the stilling, where the dif-ference is itself the stillness (206). It is in this stillness that I can imagine a gellasenheit (here I mean both “releasement in the Heideggarean sense, as well as Meister Eckhart’s use of the term meaning “letting the world go and giving oneself to God”) of thing and world, a releasing into the stillness and silence of no thing beyond where word breaks off. It is here where I may no longer be, and yet no thing is, but may be. (shrink)

Two conflicting tendencies may be discerned in Pythagorean ethics as applied to the environment: on the one hand, a sense of reverence for nature and kinship with all life that opposed killing and other forms of interference in the natural world, and on the other hand, a doctrine of the separability of soul and body which denigrates the body and the external world of which it is apart. The prescriptive content of Pythagorean ethics includes prohibitions against taking life, even in (...) sacrifices to the gods, and against eating anything that has been killed. Pollution of certain kinds is forbidden. These strictures were based on an organic, cyclical view of the world, emphasizing its harmony and balance. The Pythagoreans investigated some questions that would today be called ecological. Perhaps most importantly, they evinced a genuine respect for living things, deriving in part from the belief that animals and plants contain the reborn souls of human beings. These doctrines may have been derived from the attitudes and practices of ancestral hunters and gatherers in southeast Europe, with traditional Greek religion serving as the means of transmission from tribaI cultures to c1assical philosophy. The followers of Pythagoras split into two schools: a “scientific” school that neglected biology and therefore ecology, and a “religious” school that emphasized purity of soul and rejected any concern with physical nature. The more “environmentalist”teachings were gradually abandoned as the Pythagoreans accommodated themselves to the general attitudes of Greco-Roman culture. For instance, the objections to animal sacrifice, and to most plants as food, were dropped. The divorce of body and soul in later Pythagorean thought, wherever its influence was strong, brought with it indifference not only to the body, but to all the rest of the natural environment. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Theologian's Doubts:Natural Philosophy and the Skeptical Games of GhazālīLeor HaleviIn the history of skeptical thought, which normally leaps from the Pyrrhonists to the rediscovery of Sextus Empiricus in the sixteenth century, Abū Ḥāmid Muḥammad al-Ghazālī (1058-1111) figures as a medieval curiosity. Skeptical enough to merit passing acknowledgment, he has proven too baffling to be treated fully alongside pagan, atheist, or materialist philosophers. As a theologian defending certain (...) Muslim dogmas, Ghazālī has not met what historians consider the mark of the true skeptic, a mind doubting the possibility of all systems of knowledge. But what is fascinating about him is that he brought into practical operation the tools of what I call "functional skepticism."1He denied the claims to truth of Aristotelian physics—whose basis he showed to rest on groundless belief—then turned and argued for the possibility of the Resurrection tooth and nail. The scholarly debate on The Incoherence of the Philosophers (Tahāfut al-falāsifa) has concentrated on the extent to which Ghazālī qua Ashcarite theologian was seduced into Aristotelian philosophy despite himself.2 In my view this debate has been misguided in the attempt to distill the [End Page 19] essence of Ghazālī from the book's eclectic theology; I will argue for a different view of Ghazālī on the basis of a close reading of key passages. In the unusual sections where Ghazālī applies Aristotelian language to a world not following the ordinary laws of physics, some have found Ghazālī slipping, unconsciously perhaps, into an Aristotelian frame of mind. I will show that, as a skeptical theologian with a dialogic imagination, he was rather deconstructing Aristotelian discourse while playing a Wittgensteinian sort of language game.Natural Philosopher or Speculative Theologian?The disagreement about the extent to which philosophy infected Ghazālī is ancient. Ghazālī might have studied philosophy only in order to refute it. He himself defended his philosophizing with the claim that one cannot deconstruct a system of thought until one has understood it so deeply as to elaborate upon its fundamental principles.3 His Maqāṣid al-falāsifa was in fact received, especially in trans-Pyrenean Europe, as a philosopher's genuine summary of the object of philosophy.4 The book strikes me as suspiciously creative in its representation of philosophical discourse, but it appears in any case as an expert and surprisingly unbiased treatment.5 Arabic readers knew that Ghazālī had also written a polemical treatise against philosophy, Tahāfut al-falāsifa, but they still wondered about his engagement with the ideas he challenged. Abū Bakr Ibn al-cArabī, for example, commented that Ghazālī had been unable to extricate himself from philosophy.6 Other philosophers pondered whether or not he had been a closeted member of their charmed circle and sought in his writings traces of esoteric philosophy.7Averroës's own sober sense of distance between philosophy and theology was partially a reaction to what he perceived as Ghazālī's dangerous and carefree mixture of the two sciences.8 He attacked Ghazālī's book in The Incoherence [End Page 20] of the Incoherence to restore philosophy's sense of purity, an aim he sought to accomplish by separating religious concerns from the philosopher's field of inquiry.9 Ironically, such a separation is precisely what Ghazālī might have wished to provoke by crisscrossing and blurring the line between religion and philosophy.The modern debate on chapter 17 of Tahāfut al-falāsifa has concentrated on defining Ghazālī as either a natural philosopher or an occasionalist theologian. In his defense of the possibility of miracles Ghazālī presented two theories of causation, one denying the logical basis of Aristotelian notions of natural causality, and the other more or less adopting these notions. Jointly, the two theories have seemed incompatible, and for this reason scholars have attempted to sort Ghazālī out of the apparent confusion. In 1978 L. E. Goodman argued persuasively that Ghazālī exploited rather than denied the philosophers' ideas of causality. In two articles Michael Marmura challenged Goodman, contending... (shrink)

Roughly, a proof of a theorem, is “pure” if it draws only on what is “close” or “intrinsic” to that theorem. Mathematicians employ a variety of terms to identify pure proofs, saying that a pure proof is one that avoids what is “extrinsic,” “extraneous,” “distant,” “remote,” “alien,” or “foreign” to the problem or theorem under investigation. In the background of these attributions is the view that there is a distance measure (or a variety of such measures) between mathematical statements and (...) proofs. Mathematicians have paid little attention to specifying such distance measures precisely because in practice certain methods of proof have seemed self- evidently impure by design: think for instance of analytic geometry and analytic number theory. By contrast, mathematicians have paid considerable attention to whether such impurities are a good thing or to be avoided, and some have claimed that they are valuable because generally impure proofs are simpler than pure proofs. This article is an investigation of this claim, formulated more precisely by proof- theoretic means. After assembling evidence from proof theory that may be thought to support this claim, we will argue that on the contrary this evidence does not support the claim. (shrink)

The article focuses on the role of Olena Pchilka1 and Lesia Ukrainka in epigraphic embroidery development. Undoubtedly, Olena Pchilka was an ardent proponent of folk art purity. Following from this, there is a tendency to think that she was against all novelty in Ukrainian embroidery. Many researchers and antiquity enthusiasts refer to her authority when arguing against inscriptions on textile as a phenomenon resulting largely from printed cross-stitch on paper. However, not all embroidered verbal texts have been of print (...) origin. Most of them were folkloric texts. What is more, Olena Pchilka to some extent provided her own comment on epigraphic embroidery in approving Lesia Ukrainka’s rushnyk containing the inscription “Oh, my thoughts, my thoughts, woe is with you! Love one another, brethren, love Ukraine”. In modern embroidery, embroideresses reproduce the citation with new connotations of these words, thereby continuing the epigraphic embroidery tradition. The author illustrates the folklorization of oft-cited lines from Taras Shevchenko’s poetry with examples of epigraphic embroidery from her own Interactive Index of Folklore Formulas. (shrink)

The name of M. Heidegger is associated with a serious scandal in modern philosophy. This person, who is recognized as the greatest philosopher of the 20th century, turned out to be a staunch opponent of "world Jewry" and a supporter of the "National Socialist Revolution." Are these odious beliefs: a trait of his personalities, his ideological conformism? Or are they organically woven into his philosophy? Heidegger's philosophy is deeply rooted in the very center of European philosophy. And it attracts all (...) of its history, classical ideas and concepts in the course of its thought. Heidegger "introduces Nazism into philosophy”, but is not this dangerous possibility hidden in the bowels of philosophy itself? What is M. Heidegger as the case of philosophy itself? In this article, the author describes the contexts in which the case - the case, the fall, even the collapse - of Heidegger becomes philosophically significant. Appealing to the concept of the late Heidegger das Ereignis (event), it is actualized that philosophical thought, understood as the experience of being, belongs to the contemporary and here relates to all such a whim of the experience of the modern. It is a paradoxical combination of boundary involvement in what is happening and boundary abstraction. Thus, the purity of the article is devoted to the analysis of the events of the early twentieth century, mainly in the intellectual context. The author then turns to Heidegger's philosophy, analyzing the following key points: the phenomenological turn of philosophy and its ontological deepening by Heidegger, the destruction of Kantian criticism and Cartesian double-substance; elimination of abstract reflection. Finally, the author argues in detail why, in his view, the philosophically necessary course of Heidegger's thoughts and the paths echoed by his own course of this authoritarian personality coincide. (shrink)

The keynote idea of the theses is contained in the author’s assumption that modern philosophy doesn’t meet its claiming pretensions: to be universal form of knowledge. First of all philosophy is connected not with knowledge but with ideas and secondly being authentic it “exists only in everyday life”.1 In orderthat philosophy could realize its innate essence corresponding conditions of social being should exist but they are still absent and therefore philosophy is absent as well. Its place is occupied by metaphysics (...) which is free movement of thinking that has no definiteness as the condition of being of any form of thought. That iswhy we watch crisis state of “philosophy” which becomes apparent in vagueness of its subject: “philosophy is not only one, there are many of them”. The author supposes that philosophy as the highest relation of mankind to objective reality is the only one. Philosophy lowered down from the heaven (Platon, Ciceron) in the field of human being must raise people not only to purity of thought, but mainly to purity of their activity both with each other and with nature. Then real interaction of men and nature will take place. This will be the beginning of spiritualization of the Universe. It may exist only under the conditions of social uniformity as historical form of Weltanschauung (world outlook) that removes religious form. Realization of its being supposes fundamental change of social life. It is necessary that private property should be replaced with social property in the sphere of social production. Only under these conditions philosophy may appear and exist as historical form of Weltanschauung. (shrink)

Reilly approaches his topic by presenting the spirit of science and the phases of scientific inquiry as Peirce saw it, keeping before the reader, at all times, Peirce’s overarching view of man and the universe. The two prevailing themes guiding Peirce’s thought are 1) that there is a special conformity of the human mind to nature and of nature to God, and 2) that there is an architectonic qualifying all the various types and levels of treatment which occupy the (...) philosopher’s interest. The first question examined is the nature of the scientific concern. For Peirce, the scientist’s spirit is marked by the pure love of knowledge. It is important to note the theoretical aspect because it explains the possibility of holding belief in abeyance while examining nature: the purity of motive allows that proper questions will be asked and errors will be readily corrected. The scientist’s purpose is the real truth of things; he begins with questions about the world. There are four stages of scientific method: 1) The scientist observes nature as a thinking, analytic inquirer. Observation presupposes that nature is intelligibly structured. 2) He formulates an explanatory hypothesis which is a process of bringing a manifold of characters to a unified whole. 3) By deduction, the inquirer gathers experiential consequents of the hypothesis. 4) By induction the question is put to nature and observed phenomena are matched to the predicted phenomena, resulting in either truth or a modified hypothesis. Peirce’s principle of the kinship of man’s mind to nature supports his dictum to follow instinct over reasoned likelihood in choosing hypotheses. Also important is the doctrine of moderate fallibilism which holds that there is a convergence upon the truth founded upon the regularity of nature, but that chance is a real factor due to nature’s evolution. Reilly’s book gives an adequate account of the aspects of Peirce’s scientific method sacrificing specific and detailed analysis to a more general approach wherein he shows the unity operative throughout Peirce’s thinking. A good index and copious notes are provided.—W. A. F. (shrink)

volumes of his work, in his discussions of what underlay a Wissenschaftslehre or theory of science in the sense of his conception; he did so with such purity and scientific strictness, and with such a rich store of original, scientifically confirmed and fruitful thoughts, that we must count him as one of the greatest logicians of all time. He must be placed historically in fairly close proximity to Leibniz, with whom he shares important thoughts and fundamental conceptions, and to (...) whom he is also philosophically akin in other respects.". (shrink)

The concept of heterotopia challenges political theory, which has often focused on utopic thinking. Foucault describes a heterotopia as a heterogenous space that juxtaposes in a single real place several spaces, several sites that are in themselves incompatible. Streets, squares and parks form heterotopias when their utopic purity as public space is juxtaposed with the private spaces created by the cardboard boxes and other temporary shelters of homeless people. Since citizenship has traditionally been thought of as participation in (...) a democratic public sphere, how do heterotopias of homelessness challenge the ideas about citizenship? Based on narrative research with homeless people in Poland, I show how the homeless conceive of their marginality. Their participation or non-participation in democracy is not hidden but, on the contrary, very visible in public spaces where they are included as excluded. (shrink)

In this study I critically discuss the religious philosophy of Nikolai F. Fyodorov. Beforehand I will offer a synoptic overview of its key components. The thought of Fyodorov may serve as a model for case study work in regard to two crucial questions: (1) What is the relation between the past and the future? and (2) What is the relation between faith and science? These questions receive their spiritual, theological and philosophical answers through Fyodorov’s reflection on the (3) overcoming (...) of death. In offering his answers Fyodorov taps into the innermost depths of Christian spirituality which is interpreted in ways which are not always ‘Orthodox’ in the conventional sense. On one hand he offers a vision which prophetically yet idiosyncratically anticipates the “resurrection of all by all” (viz. Philosophy of the Common Task): this in itself calls for a radical revision of humanity’s guiding ethical, political and cultural principles (viz. Supramoralism). On the other hand, he expounds visionary proposals for the role science has to play precisely within the project of resurrecting the deceased and restoring free conscious life to all being (viz. Regulation). Fyodorov is acclaimed as one of the pioneering anticipators of climatology, rocket and space astronautics, cryonics, genetic engineering, cloning and body re-design; also, he is endorsed as the forerunner of Russian cosmism and influencer of transhumanism. His thought is radical, maximalist and limital. As well, it is informed by the purity of a moral saintliness. Inasmuch his philosophical vision may help us re-examine our own understanding of the relation of the past to the future, as well as the relation of faith to science, and, to re-address the predicament of dying. For the same reason it allows us to metacritically examine the neuralgic points of Fyodorov’s proposals. Lastly, I strive to reflect the mentioned problematic within a historical perspective, hermeneutically, hoping to provide orientation points for further discussion. (shrink)

Interdisciplinary essays on the ethical issues which encompassed the trials and Code of Nuremberg have been collated from researchers from various countries in fields as diverse as medicine, bioethics, psychoanalysis, history, philosophy, Jewish thought, law, and ethics. The book focuses on five main areas: the juridical originality of the Nuremberg trials; the scientific, epistemological, and psychoanalytic backgrounds of racism and anti-Semitism; the biomedical and bioethical issues of the Nuremberg Code; a post-Nuremberg historical, ethical, and philosophical study of the notion (...) of a 'crime against humanity'; and the Jewish perspective on purity, impurity, race, and the universal ethical expectations of mankind. The goal of the interdisciplinary study is to outline the necessary components of a bridge between science ethics, and ethics and law. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Plato's Essentialism: Reinterpreting the Theory of Forms by Vasilis PolitisTravis ButlerPOLITIS, Vasilis. Plato's Essentialism: Reinterpreting the Theory of Forms. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2021. x + 251 pp. Cloth, $99.99The reinterpretation of the theory of forms to which Politis refers in this book's subtitle is accomplished by foregrounding the conception of forms as essences—the kinds of beings we must countenance if we pose, pursue, and believe we (...) can answer the "What is F?" question. Politis argues that some of Plato's arguments for introducing forms have been distorted by the assumption that he is primarily interested in the Aristotelian question about substance or a Parmenidean quest for stable objects of thought and knowledge. By focusing on forms as the targets of the "What is F?" [End Page 154] question, we can dispel these misconceptions and bring the Platonic theory more clearly into view.Chapter 1 includes the cornerstone of Politis' interpretation—an original reading of a brief passage in the Hippias Major. Hippias is an important interlocutor for the project because he holds that the "What is F?" question can be answered by asking instead, "Which things exemplify F?" Let's call the claim that "What is F?" can be answered by examples "The Exemplar Doctrine" (ED). Politis argues that Hippias' commitment to ED leads him to deny the existence of a single exemplar for all cases—a denial he is forced subsequently to rescind. Thus, by endorsing the search for exemplars over the search for essence, Hippias sows the seeds of his own refutation.Readers might wonder how an account of a brief passage in the Hippias Major, apparently innocent of transcendent metaphysics, could serve as the cornerstone of a reinterpretation of the theory of forms. The initial answer in chapter 2 is that the rejection of ED is taken to imply that forms are imperceptible. The implication follows because Politis takes the supposition that F is definable by example to be biconditionally related to the claim that the essence of F is perceivable by the senses. When Socrates gets Hippias to reject ED, then, he gets him (tacitly) to accept that the essence of F is not perceivable by the senses. A central tenet of Platonism, the imperceptibility of forms, thus follows from an initial point about the proper way to answer the "What is F?" question.Chapter 3 continues in a similar vein, arguing that many special features attributed to forms in the Phaedo and Republic, such as their unity, uniformity, and incompositeness, follow from facts about inquiry into essences. Politis argues that these features belong, in the first instance, to defining accounts of forms and only secondarily to the forms themselves. Skeptical readers might observe that the focus in the Phaedo is much more on the forms than on defining accounts of them. In addition, it should be noted that the list of special features on which Politis focuses is somewhat selective. Chapters 2 and 3 include no discussion of the divinity and purity of forms or their status as alone by themselves. The divinity of forms is crucial for their role in Plato's ethics, but it seems unlikely to be explained by anything related to the "What is F?" question.In chapter 4, Politis defends a novel account of the epistemology of the Phaedo. He argues that it should be viewed through the lens of the account of inquiry in that dialogue, though not the central notion of inquiring with the soul by itself. Instead, we should focus on the passage in which Socrates claims that sense perception of deficiently equal sticks puts us in mind (ennoēsai) of the equal itself (74c–75b). Politis takes this claim to imply that sense perception plays a justificatory and not merely causal role in acquiring knowledge, though the textual arguments of this chapter fall short of establishing that striking claim.Chapter 5 takes on arguments in the Phaedo and Republic that appear to distinguish forms from sensibles on the grounds that the latter but not the former suffer the compresence of opposites (for example, appearing [End Page 155] both equal and unequal). Politis argues that scholars... (shrink)

This ‘story from the field’ emerges from qualitative research conducted with relatives of patients admitted to intensive care. A disturbing feature of researching the needs of family members of critically ill patients is the intense emotion that is often generated during the course of interviewing. For some the opportunity to talk about the experience of having a loved one in an intensive care unit was therapeutic; for others it meant anguish and despair as they relived the event that resulted in (...) a life‐threatening illness. Despite being a reasonably experienced educator and critical care nurse, I was unprepared for the intensity of feelings shown by many of the participants. I found that exposure to this kind of suffering was emotionally draining, experiencing the various roles of confidante, nurse, counsellor and researcher. It became important to share my thoughts and feelings and unwind with an independent friend and colleague as a way of debriefing. Methodological and ethical issues that arose included: generating a situation that potentially required therapeutic intervention; the impact on the ‘purity’ of data of becoming emotionally enmeshed; and the level of investigator preparedness when researching sensitive topics. The issue of walking away from an intensely emotional and intimate interview often leaves one with a sense of ‘unfinished business’. (shrink)

Reilly approaches his topic by presenting the spirit of science and the phases of scientific inquiry as Peirce saw it, keeping before the reader, at all times, Peirce’s overarching view of man and the universe. The two prevailing themes guiding Peirce’s thought are 1) that there is a special conformity of the human mind to nature and of nature to God, and 2) that there is an architectonic qualifying all the various types and levels of treatment which occupy the (...) philosopher’s interest. The first question examined is the nature of the scientific concern. For Peirce, the scientist’s spirit is marked by the pure love of knowledge. It is important to note the theoretical aspect because it explains the possibility of holding belief in abeyance while examining nature: the purity of motive allows that proper questions will be asked and errors will be readily corrected. The scientist’s purpose is the real truth of things; he begins with questions about the world. There are four stages of scientific method: 1) The scientist observes nature as a thinking, analytic inquirer. Observation presupposes that nature is intelligibly structured. 2) He formulates an explanatory hypothesis which is a process of bringing a manifold of characters to a unified whole. 3) By deduction, the inquirer gathers experiential consequents of the hypothesis. 4) By induction the question is put to nature and observed phenomena are matched to the predicted phenomena, resulting in either truth or a modified hypothesis. Peirce’s principle of the kinship of man’s mind to nature supports his dictum to follow instinct over reasoned likelihood in choosing hypotheses. Also important is the doctrine of moderate fallibilism which holds that there is a convergence upon the truth founded upon the regularity of nature, but that chance is a real factor due to nature’s evolution. Reilly’s book gives an adequate account of the aspects of Peirce’s scientific method sacrificing specific and detailed analysis to a more general approach wherein he shows the unity operative throughout Peirce’s thinking. A good index and copious notes are provided.—W. A. F. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Theologian's Doubts:Natural Philosophy and the Skeptical Games of GhazālīLeor HaleviIn the history of skeptical thought, which normally leaps from the Pyrrhonists to the rediscovery of Sextus Empiricus in the sixteenth century, Abū Ḥāmid Muḥammad al-Ghazālī (1058-1111) figures as a medieval curiosity. Skeptical enough to merit passing acknowledgment, he has proven too baffling to be treated fully alongside pagan, atheist, or materialist philosophers. As a theologian defending certain (...) Muslim dogmas, Ghazālī has not met what historians consider the mark of the true skeptic, a mind doubting the possibility of all systems of knowledge. But what is fascinating about him is that he brought into practical operation the tools of what I call "functional skepticism."1He denied the claims to truth of Aristotelian physics—whose basis he showed to rest on groundless belief—then turned and argued for the possibility of the Resurrection tooth and nail. The scholarly debate on The Incoherence of the Philosophers (Tahāfut al-falāsifa) has concentrated on the extent to which Ghazālī qua Ashcarite theologian was seduced into Aristotelian philosophy despite himself.2 In my view this debate has been misguided in the attempt to distill the [End Page 19] essence of Ghazālī from the book's eclectic theology; I will argue for a different view of Ghazālī on the basis of a close reading of key passages. In the unusual sections where Ghazālī applies Aristotelian language to a world not following the ordinary laws of physics, some have found Ghazālī slipping, unconsciously perhaps, into an Aristotelian frame of mind. I will show that, as a skeptical theologian with a dialogic imagination, he was rather deconstructing Aristotelian discourse while playing a Wittgensteinian sort of language game.Natural Philosopher or Speculative Theologian?The disagreement about the extent to which philosophy infected Ghazālī is ancient. Ghazālī might have studied philosophy only in order to refute it. He himself defended his philosophizing with the claim that one cannot deconstruct a system of thought until one has understood it so deeply as to elaborate upon its fundamental principles.3 His Maqāṣid al-falāsifa was in fact received, especially in trans-Pyrenean Europe, as a philosopher's genuine summary of the object of philosophy.4 The book strikes me as suspiciously creative in its representation of philosophical discourse, but it appears in any case as an expert and surprisingly unbiased treatment.5 Arabic readers knew that Ghazālī had also written a polemical treatise against philosophy, Tahāfut al-falāsifa, but they still wondered about his engagement with the ideas he challenged. Abū Bakr Ibn al-cArabī, for example, commented that Ghazālī had been unable to extricate himself from philosophy.6 Other philosophers pondered whether or not he had been a closeted member of their charmed circle and sought in his writings traces of esoteric philosophy.7Averroës's own sober sense of distance between philosophy and theology was partially a reaction to what he perceived as Ghazālī's dangerous and carefree mixture of the two sciences.8 He attacked Ghazālī's book in The Incoherence [End Page 20] of the Incoherence to restore philosophy's sense of purity, an aim he sought to accomplish by separating religious concerns from the philosopher's field of inquiry.9 Ironically, such a separation is precisely what Ghazālī might have wished to provoke by crisscrossing and blurring the line between religion and philosophy.The modern debate on chapter 17 of Tahāfut al-falāsifa has concentrated on defining Ghazālī as either a natural philosopher or an occasionalist theologian. In his defense of the possibility of miracles Ghazālī presented two theories of causation, one denying the logical basis of Aristotelian notions of natural causality, and the other more or less adopting these notions. Jointly, the two theories have seemed incompatible, and for this reason scholars have attempted to sort Ghazālī out of the apparent confusion. In 1978 L. E. Goodman argued persuasively that Ghazālī exploited rather than denied the philosophers' ideas of causality. In two articles Michael Marmura challenged Goodman, contending... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:When We Collide: Sex, Social Risk, and Jewish Ethics by Rebecca J. Epstein-LeviJoshua Stein (bio)When We Collide: Sex, Social Risk, and Jewish Ethics by Rebecca J. Epstein-Levi. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2023Sex is messy:Ethicists have an unfortunate habit of speaking of sex—or "good" sex, anyway—in lofty, aspirational terms: the physical and spiritual union of committed partners, the human sharing in divine creativity, the two becoming one, and so (...) on. This image of choreographed perfection is reproduced in popular culture. … But the actual practice of sex, by ordinary people, is not so lofty, so beautifully synchronous. Real sex, even "good" sex, is carnivalesque, even grotesque. Real sex involves fluids, farts, jiggling, grunting, adjustments of position, arms falling asleep, and accidental pinching or pulling of hair … and the making of a vast number of frankly ridiculous faces (83).Rebecca J. Epstein-Levi's When We Collide (2023) challenges us to think about sex as it is, rather than as we are conditioned to talk about it (or as we might sometimes like to imagine it). This is foundational to the book. There is a familiar tradition of sanitizing sex, reducing it to teleology, idealized bodies, heteronormativity, and venerated social institutions. In dispensing with this sanitized illusion, the book adopts a healthier and more honest relationship with sex; in order to have a productive discussion about the ethics of any human activity, that discussion should represent the human activity faithfully. Part of the reason that Epstein-Levi takes this approach is to distinguish Jewish ethics' discussion of sex, which regards sex, and therefore sexual ethics, "as an empirical, lived, and granular phenomenon" (3).Discussions in Jewish sexual ethics should treat sex as a lived social experience and be responsive to the messiness of that experience. Epstein-Levi argues that sanitizing sex through appeal to a nebulous notion of how historical [End Page 99] religious traditions must have been puritanical is ahistorical, chauvinistic, and inconsistent with scholarship on rabbinic texts.This is a striking and perhaps subversive view in our present context. Centrally, many associate "religious views" (especially in sexual ethics) with politically Conservative and purity-driven views characteristic of some Christian traditions. The term "Judeo-Christian" in American political discourse is often used evocatively of the heteronormative, sanitized, idealized posture toward sex that Levi explicitly rejects. Epstein-Levi's book recognizes that rabbinic scholarship underrepresents marginalized communities, including women, LGBTQ+ people, and disabled people. This is the major moral and practical focus of Epstein-Levi's analysis; historical traditions in which dominant moral views are shaped by a particular group often have glaring blind spots. When we recognize those blind spots, as members of that tradition, need to be updated simply to address sex as it exists, not as we idealize it.The book centers Jewish texts and methods of thought, but (in my view) readers who will benefit most from reading Epstein-Levi's book are non-Jewish readers thinking about sex. Epstein-Levi's book illustrates methodological differences in Jewish ethics from other approaches. The ethics of sex should change as our knowledge of sex changes; as we learn about sexual activity and about the social lives of people, we should apply that knowledge to our understanding. For Jewish thought, ethics is discursive, not fixed; our understanding of ethics requires constant consideration and discussion as our understanding of the world changes and improves.One central focus of the book is risk; our knowledge of sex changes as we understand and mediate against the risks involved in sexual activity and as we learn more about how risk works itself. Risk is tied up in all social activity, including sex. The ethics of sex requires discussion of risk but often does so in a way not congruous with the discussion of risk in other areas of social life. "Sex is dangerous. … Sexual intercourse opens us up to risks of infections, violence, and, if we are in possession of functional ovaries and a uterus, pregnancy" (98). All social activity is risky; we are all acutely aware given the prospects of exposure to strains of a novel coronavirus and the way we have changed our... (shrink)

. Freedom of thought as freedom of expression: Hate crime sentencing enhancement and first amendment theory. Criminal Justice Ethics: Vol. 11, No. 2, pp. 29-42.

In the dissertation I examine the split between cognition and eros in Kant's notion of objectivity, which has become paradigmatic for modern theories about knowledge. I argue that the split between cognition, on the one hand, and feelings and desires, on the other, does not capture the necessary conditions of knowledge, as Kant claims, but involves a suppression of erotic factors of existence. ;The split between pure knowledge and sensual existence in Kant's thought reflects an ascetic tradition inherited from (...) both Greek and Christian sources, which views the body, sexuality, and in particular women's sexuality as a source of pollution. According to this tradition, since thought must be divested of the pollution of sensuous existence, women's sexuality precludes them from rational activity. Consequently, the philosophical commitment to purity has justified the exclusion of women from the practice of knowledge. ;The particular form of asceticism which is evident in Kant's treatment of sensibility of objective knowledge, of morality, and of aesthetic judgement, reflects the reified nature of relations in an emerging capitalist economy. The suppression of the immediate, sensual qualities in both the subject and object of knowledge, in Kant's system, corresponds to the suppression of the immediate, qualitative features of the subject and object in the process of commodity production. Both persons and things become reduced to a formal abstract equivalence. Kant's notion of objectivity makes normative this objectification of relations between persons and things. ;Thus, the paradigm of objective knowledge is not only damaging to the thinker, who must detach himself from the emotional and sensual facets of existence. It serves as an ideology which has justified the exclusion of women from the pursuit of knowledge, and which more generally legitimates the distorted human relations generated by the world of commodity production. ;By considering Kant's commitment to pure knowledge in the context of the genealogy of the concept of purity, the themes of asceticism and fetishism emerged as mutually illuminating. Implicit in the ascetic denial of sensuality is a dialectic which leads to an objectification of persons and things. Moreover, the fetishism of commodities involves a detachment of erotic interests from persons which results in an obsessive interest in objects. (shrink)

¿It is more important to me to explain a [philosophical] principle than any other thing that I teach.¿ (Rambam, Mishna Berachot, 9:7)Illuminating Jewish Thought is a contemporary, multi-volume series that surveys the theological foundations of Jewish faith. With the approach and scope of a master educator for undergraduate and rabbinical students at Yeshiva University, Rabbi Wiederblank brings together a wide array of Jewish texts ranging from philosophical to Kabbalistic, ancient to modern, in a clear and accessible source book. In (...) this volume, the author shows the richness of the Jewish scholastic tradition relating to three fundamental yet esoteric topics: free will, the afterlife, and the messianic era. Primary sources are presented in their original language with modern English translation, enabling readers to analyze the texts independently, while the author illuminates and contextualizes these complex concepts. Altogether, Illuminating Jewish Thought reveals the bedrock on which lies the nexus of Jewish belief and practice. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Lost Sutras of Jesus: Unlocking the Ancient Wisdom of the Xian Monks, and: The Buddha's Gospel: A Buddhist Interpretation of Jesus' WordsJohn D'Arcy MayThe Lost Sutras of Jesus: Unlocking the Ancient Wisdom of the Xian Monks. Edited by Ray Riegert and Thomas Moore. London: Souvenir Press, 2004. 140 + xi pp.The Buddha's Gospel: A Buddhist Interpretation of Jesus' Words. By Lindsay Falvey. Adelaide: Institute for International Development, (...) 2002. 108 pp.Since Roy C. Amore's Two Masters, One Message (1987) revived the hypothesis of Buddhist influence on Christian origins and Hans-Joachim Klimkeit's research established links between Nestorian Christianity, Gnostic Manichaeism, and Mahayana Buddhism in Central Asia, there is scope for further reflection on commonalities between the two traditions over and above the purely doctrinal and philosophical. The two books under review, though intended for a general readership, are indications that interest in these matters is very much alive.Riegert and Moore preface their selection of texts with the story of Bishop Aleben (A-lo-pen), who travelled the Silk Road from Persia and was received with honour at the imperial capital of Xian (Chang-an) at the beginning of the Tang dynasty (635 CE). The emperor Taizong was sympathetic to what he called the "Luminous Religion," a Nestorian version of Christianity, possibly in Syriac, as presented by Aleben. It seems that these teachings were translated into Chinese in the form of sutras. One of them, preserved in stone as the Monument Sutra, features the cross rising from the lotus, the symbol chosen by Karl Reichelt for Tao-fung Shan, his Christian center in Buddhist style at Sha-tin outside Hong Kong, many centuries later. Thousands of Buddhist texts were preserved in the library cave at Dunhuang monastery, about one thousand miles west of Xian, where they were rediscovered by the Taoist priest Wang Yuanlu, who arrived there in the 1890s and became the self-appointed guardian of the scrolls.Included in this treasure trove were the Jesus Sutras, which are now scattered in museums and private collections, largely inaccessible to the public. But if the selection published here in a very elegant translation is anything to go by, they are [End Page 190] extremely significant religious documents with a spiritual value all their own. For the uninitiated, there is no way of checking the authenticity of these translations. The commentaries that accompany them could be slightly tendentious in that they nudge us in the direction of the editors' particular holistic worldview. But the texts themselves have a beauty and integrity that speaks for itself. They represent a Higher Dharma of perfect purity (p. 86), which, like a mirror, reflects the world with no trace of self: no desire, no action, no virtue, no truth (pp. 80–83, 126–129). The Jesus story is retold, and Jesus is portrayed as the teacher of this Higher Path. The sutras speak of One Spirit who is self-created, One God who is creator of the world, and One Lord, the Messiah who will return. There are prayers, too: "O Loving Father, Enlightened Son, Holy Spirit King"; "Lamb of Love and Bliss"; "O Holy Sage, Universal Lord, Messiah" (pp. 110–113). The texts obviously bear witness to a Buddhist-Christian dialogue much earlier and at a far deeper level than many would have thought possible. Whether they represent the religion of the future, as the editors suggest, remains to be seen.Lindsay Falvey's project of interpreting the canonical texts of Buddhism and Christianity in reference to one another has a similar orientation. In the course of agricultural development work in Thailand he came to realize "that the striking similarity between the two teachers may well be a seamless cloak of congruence beneath the mantle of culture and lore" (p. 13); the texts, in other words, may be quite literally translatable into one another's terms. Though aware that Q, the collection of Jesus' sayings that is supposed to have been available to the synoptic evangelists, is a hypothetical reconstruction, he still feels able to use a version of it as a basis for his experiment. He prefaces this with what he calls "A... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Lost Sutras of Jesus: Unlocking the Ancient Wisdom of the Xian Monks, and: The Buddha's Gospel: A Buddhist Interpretation of Jesus' WordsJohn D'Arcy MayThe Lost Sutras of Jesus: Unlocking the Ancient Wisdom of the Xian Monks. Edited by Ray Riegert and Thomas Moore. London: Souvenir Press, 2004. 140 + xi pp.The Buddha's Gospel: A Buddhist Interpretation of Jesus' Words. By Lindsay Falvey. Adelaide: Institute for International Development, (...) 2002. 108 pp.Since Roy C. Amore's Two Masters, One Message (1987) revived the hypothesis of Buddhist influence on Christian origins and Hans-Joachim Klimkeit's research established links between Nestorian Christianity, Gnostic Manichaeism, and Mahayana Buddhism in Central Asia, there is scope for further reflection on commonalities between the two traditions over and above the purely doctrinal and philosophical. The two books under review, though intended for a general readership, are indications that interest in these matters is very much alive.Riegert and Moore preface their selection of texts with the story of Bishop Aleben (A-lo-pen), who travelled the Silk Road from Persia and was received with honour at the imperial capital of Xian (Chang-an) at the beginning of the Tang dynasty (635 CE). The emperor Taizong was sympathetic to what he called the "Luminous Religion," a Nestorian version of Christianity, possibly in Syriac, as presented by Aleben. It seems that these teachings were translated into Chinese in the form of sutras. One of them, preserved in stone as the Monument Sutra, features the cross rising from the lotus, the symbol chosen by Karl Reichelt for Tao-fung Shan, his Christian center in Buddhist style at Sha-tin outside Hong Kong, many centuries later. Thousands of Buddhist texts were preserved in the library cave at Dunhuang monastery, about one thousand miles west of Xian, where they were rediscovered by the Taoist priest Wang Yuanlu, who arrived there in the 1890s and became the self-appointed guardian of the scrolls.Included in this treasure trove were the Jesus Sutras, which are now scattered in museums and private collections, largely inaccessible to the public. But if the selection published here in a very elegant translation is anything to go by, they are [End Page 190] extremely significant religious documents with a spiritual value all their own. For the uninitiated, there is no way of checking the authenticity of these translations. The commentaries that accompany them could be slightly tendentious in that they nudge us in the direction of the editors' particular holistic worldview. But the texts themselves have a beauty and integrity that speaks for itself. They represent a Higher Dharma of perfect purity (p. 86), which, like a mirror, reflects the world with no trace of self: no desire, no action, no virtue, no truth (pp. 80–83, 126–129). The Jesus story is retold, and Jesus is portrayed as the teacher of this Higher Path. The sutras speak of One Spirit who is self-created, One God who is creator of the world, and One Lord, the Messiah who will return. There are prayers, too: "O Loving Father, Enlightened Son, Holy Spirit King"; "Lamb of Love and Bliss"; "O Holy Sage, Universal Lord, Messiah" (pp. 110–113). The texts obviously bear witness to a Buddhist-Christian dialogue much earlier and at a far deeper level than many would have thought possible. Whether they represent the religion of the future, as the editors suggest, remains to be seen.Lindsay Falvey's project of interpreting the canonical texts of Buddhism and Christianity in reference to one another has a similar orientation. In the course of agricultural development work in Thailand he came to realize "that the striking similarity between the two teachers may well be a seamless cloak of congruence beneath the mantle of culture and lore" (p. 13); the texts, in other words, may be quite literally translatable into one another's terms. Though aware that Q, the collection of Jesus' sayings that is supposed to have been available to the synoptic evangelists, is a hypothetical reconstruction, he still feels able to use a version of it as a basis for his experiment. He prefaces this with what he calls "A... (shrink)

Scholars such as Nancy Leys Stepan, Alexandra Minna Stern, Marius Turda and Aaron Gillette have all argued that the rejection of coerced sterilization was a defining feature of “Latin” eugenic theory and practice. These studies highlight the influence of neo-Lamarckism in this development not only in Latin America but also in parts of Europe in the first half of the twentieth century. This article builds upon this historiographical framework to examine an often-neglected site of Latin American eugenic knowledge production: Chile. (...) By focusing on Chilean eugenicists’ understandings of environment and coerced sterilization, this article argues that there was no uniquely Latin objection to the practice initially. In fact, Chilean eugenicists echoed concerns of eugenicists from a variety of locations, both “mainstream” and Latin, who felt that sterilization was not the most effective way to ensure the eugenic improvement of national populations. Instead, the article contends that it was not until the implementation of the 1933 German racial purity laws, which included coerced sterilization legislation, that Chilean eugenicists began to define their objections to the practice as explicitly Latin. Using a variety of medical texts which appeared in popular periodicals as well as professional journals, this article reveals the complexity of eugenic thought and practice in Chile in the early twentieth century. (shrink)

This study reconstructs the relationship between philosophy and politics in the way in which Heidegger's failure as a politician influenced the redevelopment of philosophy in the 1930s. The author also explains how Heidegger's failure influenced the content and direction of his later work.

From 1908 to 1922, William Beebe, the curator of birds at the Bronx Zoo, tried unsuccessfully to bring tropical birds known as hoatzin to the zoological park in the Bronx run by the New York Zoological Society. Beebe was committed to bringing hoatzin to the zoo because he thought they could reveal scientific truths about ecology and evolution to him and the visiting public. While contemporary scholarship about zoo science in the United States has focused on how environmental conservation (...) shaped the scientific practices of zoos at the turn to the 20th century, Beebe's efforts to bring hoatzin to the Bronx shows that evolutionary theory and ecology were central issues at the institution. Beebe wanted to use zoo displays to conduct research into the relationships between organisms and environments in order to investigate how certain animal behaviors, such as flight, developed. Beebe's employers, Madison Grant and Henry Osborn, were less interested in Beebe's experimentation with zoo exhibits, and more invested in using the zoo as a place to disseminate evolutionary ideas they already understood as scientific truths about heredity, racial hierarchies, and eugenics. Whereas Beebe saw his scientific practice as dependent on ecological connections, Grant and Osborn stressed a narrative of purity and separation (of species and race) that governed the conservation projects and scientific focus of the Zoological Society, as well as the presentation of animals on zoo grounds. Ultimately, Grant and Osborn's evolutionary concerns and their vision of a hierarchical natural world dictated the scientific direction of the Bronx Zoo in a way that prevented the institution from becoming a site for ecological research. (shrink)

In the present article, the authors argue that the study of Salafism as a contemporary Islamic new religious movement could benefit from an analytical perspective separating fundamentalism into the modes of inferentialism and deferentialism. The basics of these concepts are outlined and discussed in relation to different aspects of contemporary Salafism as well as in relation to previous tendencies in Islamic history. As a case study, the authors employ the concept in an analysis of a contemporary Swedish Salafi discourse on (...) the ‘wiping of the socks’ in the context of ritual purity. The authors argue that the concept of ‘deferential fundamentalism’ has a potential in the study of Salafism in that it allows for comparative analysis, both cross-religiously and diachronically, in contextualising Salafism historically. It also allows for an analysis of Salafi thought and practice in relation to theories of how human beings in general process social information. (shrink)