L’histoire économique nous enseigne que si le progrès technique ne profite pas à tous les travailleurs lorsqu’il apparaît, à long terme il est le facteur principal de la hausse extraordinaire des salaires et du niveau de vie que l’économie mondiale a connue depuis la révolution industrielle. Pourtant, les progrès de la robotique pourraient bien remettre en question cet optimisme et donner raison aux Cassandre qui prophétisaient la fin du travail. En effet, le champ de ces technologies ne cesse de progresser, (...) au point où la totalité des tâches effectuées par les humains serait robotisable. Si c’est le cas, l’économie et la société en seraient profondément transformées. On considère six scénarios. Dans trois d’entre eux, une classe humaine quasi-oisive se maintient grâce à des transferts prélevés sur la production effectuée par les robots. Ces transferts peuvent s’effectuer à travers l’État-Providence, le clientélisme d’une oligarchie possédant les robots, ou le maintien néo-fordiste d’emplois tertiaires dont la fonction essentielle serait le versement d’un salaire qui permettrait le maintien du pouvoir d’achat. En l’absence de mécanismes redistributifs, on envisage trois autres scénarios. Selon le scénario des rentiers, une classe de propriétaires de robots émerge, suffisamment nombreuse pour s'opposer politiquement à des transferts redistributifs. Selon le scénario malthusien, le salaire tombe au niveau du salaire de subsistance et la population humaine diminue, ne laissant subsister qu’une classe de rentiers vivant de la possession de robots. Selon le scénario virtuel, le salaire de subsistance lui-même baisse considérablement sous l’effet des nouvelles technologies : la population se maintient en dépit des baisses de salaire. (shrink)

This is Volume I of a new series entitled Aquinas Scripture Commentaries. With the exception of the nineteenth century Oxford translation of Aquinas' Gospel Commentaries, Aquinas the exegete has not been available in English. It is hoped that this Magi Books series will fill this gap soon, though no definite prospectus of further titles other than this and the one mentioned below has been set forth by the publisher. Aquinas' Scripture Commentaries, like his Commentaries on the Aristotelian corpus, follow the (...) lectio form of line by line and structural interpretation of the entire text. This literal approach to Biblical exegesis is mediated, however, by the systematic philosophical and theological perspective Aquinas brings to bear on the text. The result of this union is a Commentary which has quite a bit more than simply historical importance. The translation is smooth and the book has been turned out in a reasonably scholarly fashion.—E. A. R. (shrink)

In the same year that, just a few days before his death, Locke was penning instructions to for the publication of some of his unprinted works, in particular of the Paraphrases on the Epistles of Saint Paul, a book entitled The Two Covenants of God with Mankind was published in London. The author, Thomas Taylor, had been for some time a staunch supporter of the thought and work of Malebranche, to whom the subtitle made explicit reference. It was (...) during his studies at Oxford that Taylor had begun to approach Malebranche’s thought, very probably through John Norris his chief English mentor. Indeed, Taylor referred to Norris in the notice To the Reader in his work, both explicitly as—“one who best understands [Malebranche]”—and by reutilising the encomiastic optical and astronomical metaphors with which Norris introduced the French philosopher at the beginning of The Theory of the Ideal or Intelligible World. Also traceable to the authority of Norris was Taylor’s eulogy of the Recherche de la vérité—“a Book that is alone a Library”—that he had translated 10 years earlier, which, along with the almost contemporary translation by Richard Sault, rendered Malebranche’s most influential work accessible to English readers. Taylor’s translation can be set within the context of Locke’s earliest stances regarding the theory of ideas of Malebranche and Norris, the principal documentation of which was to be found in Of Seeing all Things in God, another of the unpublished works mentioned by Locke in the letter to Peter King. King did indeed publish it in the Posthumous Works, albeit without the polemical initial paragraphs directed against Norris, whereas the editorial history of the Paraphrases was to be different. (shrink)

This article is about a period of technology transfer – the late 1910s and 1920s – when wartime aerial reconnaissance techniques and operations were being adapted to a range of civilian uses, including urban planning, land use analysis, traffic control, tax equalization, and even archaeology. At the center of the discussion is the ‘photomosaic’: a patchwork of overlapping aerial photographs that have been rectified and fit together so as to form a continuous survey of a territory. Initially developed during the (...) First World War to provide coverage of fronts, photomosaic mapping was widely practiced and celebrated during the postwar years as an aid to urban development. The article traces both the refinements in photomosaic technology after the Armistice and the rhetorical means by which the form’s avant-garde wartime reputation was domesticated into an ‘applied realism’ that often effaced its site-specific perspective, its elaborately rectified optics, and the oppositionality of both its military and civilian uses. The article has a broader theoretical aim as well. Classic statements of both structuralist and post-structuralist spatial theory have produced an ossified geometry wherein the vertical is the axis of paradigm, top-down strategy, and manipulative distance and the horizontal the axis of syntagm, grassroots tactics, and resistant proximities and differences. In its close study of the technology and rhetoric surrounding interwar photogrammetry, the article provides an example of how one might reverse the long-standing misrecognition of high-altitude optics as effacing time, difference, and materiality – and what it might mean to view such optics as, instead, a resource in turning from abstract toward differential conceptions of both aerial photography and our theoretical habits. This turn I call ‘applied modernism’, a term that accesses both the wartime photomosaic’s affiliation with avant-garde painting and its insistence that portraits of the total are always projections from partial, specific vantages. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Diacritics 30.4 (2000) 59-82 [Access article in PDF] Bombing and the Symptom Traumatic Earliness and the Nuclear Uncanny Paul K. Saint-Amour Many used the Japanese word bukimi, meaning weird, ghastly, or unearthly, to describe Hiroshima's uneasy combination of continued good fortune and expectation of catastrophe. People remembered saying to one another, "Will it be tomorrow or the day after tomorrow?" One man described how, each night he was (...) on air-raid watch, "I trembled with fear.... I would think, "Tonight it will be Hiroshima." These "premonitions" were partly attempts at psychic preparation, partly a form of "imagining the worst" as a magical way of warding off disaster. —Robert J. Lifton, Death in Life: Survivors of Hiroshima (1967) Robert J. Lifton's pathbreaking work on the survivors of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima focuses on the psychological aftermath of the bomb, but opens with a brief and surprising section called "Anticipation." Given the instantaneous and unprecedented devastation caused by the first atomic bomb, the anticipation of so singular an experience is just as difficult to imagine as its subsequent assimilation. In fact, the unassimilable nature of traumatic violence would seem to depend in some way upon the impossibility of its anticipation, as Lifton implies: "Neither past experience nor immediate perceptions—the two sources of prior imagination—could encompass what was about to occur." Yet Lifton also records an expectant, premonitory atmosphere in Hiroshima during the weeks before the bombing, a compound of past experience and immediate perceptions that, while inadequate to "encompass" the eventual experience of the bomb, cannot simply be dismissed as speculation that found an accidental correlate in the nuclear event. While no one in Hiroshima knew ahead of time what would occur on August 6, 1945, many had noted the city's eerie exemption from conventional bombardment and speculated as to the reasons for it. During the summer of 1945, a series of rumors circulated in Hiroshima, rumors attributing the sparing of the city, variously, to its modest military and industrial significance; to the presence of prominent foreigners there, possibly including President Truman's mother; to important American prisoners-of-war supposedly held in the city; to the number of its citizens who had emigrated to the US; to the presence of large numbers of American spies living among its citizens; to its physical appeal in the eyes of Americans who had saved the city as a site for their postwar occupation villas; and, most wishfully, to the wartime grace of a cartographic error: "We thought that perhaps the city of Hiroshima was not on the American maps" [Lifton 15-17]. 1 Other inhabitants [End Page 59] of the city feared that Hiroshima appeared all too prominently on US maps, but had been set aside for "something unusually big"—perhaps the inundation of the city by floodwaters that could be released by the bombing of a massive upstream dam. Still others spoke of a "special bomb" [PWRS 220-22; Lifton 17]. All these rumors responded to citizens' impression that their city had been in some way singled out, and the term bukimi—also meaning "ominous" or "uncanny"—spoke to the suspended question of whether Hiroshima and its inhabitants had been singled out for preservation or for annihilation.The survivors who recollected their anticipatory bukimi years after the bombing may have retrospectively amplified their memories of weird expectation, perhaps as a way of attempting to master an incommensurable and singular event by installing it within a narrative of causality, continuity, even prophecy. Nonetheless, the bukimi experienced by inhabitants of Hiroshima should not be understood as pure retrospection, nor as groundless hunch, since it arose from a series of empirical observations later revealed to have a single and coherent origin in US military strategy. By the summer of 1945, most Japanese cities whose size and military-industrial importance were similar to Hiroshima's had already been bombed with incendiaries: those who lived in Hiroshima had watched waves of American bombers fly past on their way to other targets, while the dozen or so bombs that had fallen accidentally on... (shrink)

This book is an introduction, entirely by example, to the possibilities of using computer models as tools in phosophical research in general and in philosophical logic in particular. Topics include chaos, fractals, and the semantics of paradox; epistemic dynamics; fractal images of formal systems; the evolution of generosity; real-valued game theory; and computation and undecidability in the spatialized Prisoner's Dilemma.

This chapter investigates the problem of knowledge production on economic poverty in Africa as, largely, an instance of epistemic injustice. It applies Karl Popper’s critical rationalism to the issue of knowledge production on poverty. Methodologies of researches on poverty in Africa subtly promotes intended epistemic injustices against the subjects as the poor are underrepresented in knowledge about them; the experiences of the poor are often ignored, and their epistemic capacity for unearthing the push and pull factors of poverty are greeted (...) with much inferiority, skepticism and contempt. In severing the intersection between researching and reporting poverty in Africa and epistemic injustice, this chapter argues that Popper’s critical rationalism is philosophically indispensable. Popper’s scientific and political thoughts are potent theoretical interventions in addressing the epistemic, methodological, social, moral and political problems of poverty in Africa. The elements of scientific method inquiry, rationality, piecemeal social engineering, liberalism and intellectual openness explicit in Popper’s philosophy are explored, applied and found relevant to promoting poverty research ideals and policy development in Africa and beyond. The chapter concludes on the importance of Popper’s works, which span beyond his time and space, to knowledge about Africa. (shrink)

t. 1. Le christianise dévoilé ; La contagion sacrée ; Lettres à Eugénie ; Théologie portative -- t. 2. Essai sur les Préjugés ; Système de la nature ; Histoire critique de Jésus-Christ -- t. 3. Tableau des saints. Le bon sens. Politique naturelle. Ethocratie.

Normal 0 21 false false false ES X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 The present text shows the sense of the interpretation of Saint Paul and Saint Augustine that Heidegger carry out in his early Freiburg lectures. Concretly, I will point out the reason why Heidegger recovers some aspects of the christianity for his philosophical project and also to show which are the concrete elements that Saint Paul’s Epistles and Saint Augustine’s Confessions contribute to him. In this way, (...) we will be able to appreciate, among other things, the importance granted by Heidegger to the accentuation of the self-world ( Selbstwelt ) and the temporality who is typical of the Christian experience of live. (shrink)

Le proslogion de saint Anselme n'est pas une oeuvre tres connue, bien que les commentaires de ses chapitres 2 a 4 sur l'argument appele par Kant ontologique soient en nombre infini.

This essay examines the rhetoric of war in the second edition of Karl Barth's Der Römerbrief. It argues that such rhetoric serves awell-defined purpose, particularly with regard to Barth's theological anthropology. Specifically, the appropriation of language associable with war helps Barth to portray the human being as he or she is confronted – attacked, in fact – by God's majestic, self-sufficient alterity; redefined by Christ's vicarious death, which effects our translation into a new, redeemed condition; and called to a new (...) kind of ethical and political discipleship, pertinent to the challenges faced by Europeans in the aftermath of the Great War. The essay shows, in fact, that the rhetoric of war in Der Römerbrief is not merely symptomatic of the historical context in which Barth wrote. Instead of being controlled by his context, Barth hopes to intervene in it, and enlists the language of war to support a compelling theological proposal. (shrink)

La compréhension paulinienne de la loi a fait l’objet d’une réception dans la théorie psychanalytique de Jacques Lacan, en particulier le chapitre 7 de l’Épître aux Romains. Sur ce thème, plusieurs travaux récents en psychanalyse défendent la thèse selon laquelle Paul n’a pas su distinguer la loi symbolique du surmoi et, prenant l’un pour l’autre, a organisé tout un monde de la culpabilité, de la haine et de la persécution. Lacan adopte un point de vue assez différent. Sans ignorer la (...) part du surmoi, il attribue une dimension plus structurelle à la loi paulinienne. Dans la compréhension de la loi chez Paul, il voit une dialectique, centrale en psychanalyse, où le désir se porte vers ce qu’il ne doit pas obtenir. De ce fait, l’originalité de Paul est d’avoir indiqué que le péché se découvre paradoxalement sur l’axe d’un Bien et dans le mouvement de la fidélité à la loi. C’est ce que cette contribution met en lumière pour reconsidérer, à partir de là, le sens de l’amour et de la grâce. Paul’s understanding of the Law, especially in chapter 7 of the Epistle to the Romans, was taken into account by Jacques Lacan in his psychoanalytical theory. On this issue, recent studies in psychoanalysis defend a thesis according to which Paul did not distinguish between the symbolic law and the superego and, taking one for the other, organized a whole world of guilt, hatred and persecution. Lacan’s point of view is quite different. Without ignoring the share of the superego, he attributes a more structural role to the Law as understood by Paul. In Paul’s understanding of the Law, Lacan sees a dialectic stance, one central to psychoanalysis, where desire is aimed at what it must not get. Thus, Paul’s originality was to show that sin is paradoxically discovered on the axis of Good, in the movement of faithfulness to the Law. This contribution aims at bringing this to light, so as to reconsider the meaning of Love and of Grace. (shrink)

We examine a distinctive kind of problem for decision theory, involving what we call discontinuity at infinity. Roughly, it arises when an infinite sequence of choices, each apparently sanctioned by plausible principles, converges to a ‘limit choice’ whose utility is much lower than the limit approached by the utilities of the choices in the sequence. We give examples of this phenomenon, focusing on Arntzenius et al.’s Satan’s apple, and give a general characterization of it. In these examples, repeated dominance reasoning (...) (a paradigm of rationality) apparently gives rise to a situation closely analogous to having intransitive preferences (a paradigm of irrationality). Indeed, the agents in these examples are vulnerable to a money pump set-up despite having preferences that exhibit no obvious defect of rationality. We explore several putative solutions to such problems, particularly those that appeal to binding and to deliberative dynamics. We consider the prospects for these solutions, concluding that if they fail, the examples show that money pump arguments are invalid. (shrink)

In these three dialogues, renowned for their dialectical structure and linguistic precision, Anselm sets out his classic account of the relationship between freedom and sin--its linchpin his definition of freedom of choice as the power to preserve rectitude of will for its own sake. In doing so, Anselm explores the fascinating implications for God, human beings, and angels of his conclusion that freedom of choice neither is nor entails the power to sin. In addition to an Introduction, notes, and a (...) glossary, Thomas Williams brings to the translation of these important dialogues the same precision and clarity that distinguish his previous translation of Anselm's _Proslogion_ and _Monologion_, which Professor Paul Spade of Indiana University called "scrupulously faithful and accurate without being slavishly literal, yet lively and graceful to both the eye and ear. (shrink)

In the wake of Operation Desert Storm, the question of 'just war' has become a hotly contested issue, and this classic text on war and the ethics of modern statecraft written at the height of the Vietnam era in 1968 speaks to a new generation of readers. In defending just war against Christian pacifism, Ramsey joins a line of theological reasoning that traces its antecedents to Saint Augustine and Saint Thomas Aquinas. Ramsey argues that decisions regarding war must (...) be governed by 'political prudence.' Whether a particular war should be fought, and at what level of violence, depends, Ramsey writes, on one's count of the moral costs and benefits. Characterized by a sophisticated yet back-to-basics approach, his analysis begins with the assumption that force is a fact in political life which must either be reckoned with or succumbed to. He then grapples with modern challenges to traditional moral principles of 'just conduct' in war, the 'morality of deterrence,' and a 'just war theory of statecraft.'. (shrink)

Hugh of Saint Victor was an incredibly influential philosopher and theologian in 10th century France-his eloquence and writing earning him fame exceeding even that of St. Bernard. Yet despite his medieval celebrity, Hugh remains incredibly understudied in contemporary academica. Paul Rorem offers a basic introduction to Hugh's theology, through a comprehensive survey of his works. Drawing his evidence not only from Hugh's own descriptions of his work but from the earliest manuscript traditions of his writings, Rorem organizes and presents (...) his corpus within a tri-part framework, treating each of Hugh's major works in its appropriate place, and orienting the reader to its contents, as well as its location in Hugh's overarching program of theological pedagogy. (shrink)

Interwoven with natural structurations and personal history, the flesh , in Merleau-Ponty's gradually-forged conception, is nourished by the combined influences of neurology, Gestalt psychology and psychoanalysis. This triple influence undergirds a recurring theme in his later writings: the mirror . "The flesh is a mirror phenomenon," Merleau-Ponty tells us. The unpublished manuscripts reveal that this famous clause refers neither directly to Husserl, nor to Wallon and Lacan, but is driven by contemporary readings of Paul Schilder and Wolfgang Metzger, who study (...) the phenomena of distanciated migrations of the body-image in vision. The mirror mingles objective body with phenomenal body, in an effective community between my lived body and its external image. It shows how the flesh lives both within and outside of itself, animated by an essential incompleteness that engages perception in a process of incorporation and, thus, hints at intercorporeity. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Overtones:A CollagePaul Youngquist (bio)Mom leans against the keyboard of the old upright piano in the den. She puckers her lips and gently fingers the valves. A couple of times a month, she frees her trumpet from the purple velveteen lining its case—out of love or frustration I can never tell. She stares hard at the bell, pointed somewhere near my feet. She inhales deeply, pressing the silver mouthpiece to (...) her crumpled lips. A silent moment passes—torn by a noise pitched past the sun, a shrieking flare sound. Another follows and another, bright glissandos blinking out somewhere below middle C. They shatter everything I know about her. Everything I thought I knew. What sound was that, what cry? What aspiration to be free? After those initial stabs, she falls into familiar melodies: "Bugler's Holiday" by Leroy Anderson, maybe, or "When the Saints Go Marching In." I'm unsettled for the rest of the day.Trumpeter Don Cherry's sound unsettled me too. I was much older when I first encountered it on Ornette Coleman's The Shape of Jazz to Come. It took me back to Mom's cries. I heard her sound in his: bright, high, and transient: less pitch than smudge, transmitting unknowable overtones. On "Lonely Woman," for instance. Cherry states the plaintive melody in hazy unison with Coleman, blurs the third note, wavers and plays his peculiar temper, untimely and free to move beyond the platitudes of harmony until, after Coleman's baffled cry, he parts company to play a sixth above (if such language matters, and it doesn't), descending in half steps to resolve (not happily) on a minor third, Cherry now pitched below. Their unison breaks apart to reconverge, and the brief bridge feels like a heaving between sobs. This isn't music. It's too raw for the repartee of bebop or the sociability of swing. But everybody can feel it, which explains the scandal of Coleman and company's extended appearance in late 1959 at the Five Spot in New York's East Village. Writing in the New York Times Magazine years later, Joseph Hooper likened it to the furor erupting after Stravinsky's Paris premier of "The Rite of Spring" in 1913. In an interview with Terry Gross, Cherry remembers everyone who was musically anyone being there—from Leonard Bernstein to Thelonious Monk—to witness the sacrilege. The implacable trickster Charles Mingus appeared one [End Page 133] night with Phineas Newborn, a keyboard virtuoso famous for his perfect pitch. Newborn sat and stared at his cufflinks. He never played a note. After the set, Mingus barreled onto the stage and, with his long arms and big hands, crashed all the keys. "That's where it is," he bellowed. "It's all there." Everywhere and nowhere. Cherry and Ornette decentered intonation. They distempered tradition's scales. Afflicted with perfect pitch, Newborn couldn't follow their cries and whispers. They flew free from the comforting staff. Still you feel them, hear their immeasurable sound.Don Cherry: "I've always been on the outside, and that's a good quality for the music to have, like the wind in your face."Cherry's mother Daisy gave him his first horn when he was fourteen. It breathed life into him, offering a way to express sounds his body harbored. Born in Oklahoma City in 1936 to "Negro-Choctaw Indian parents" (his words—his mother's mother was half native), Cherry heard gospel, blues, and Indian songs from the start. The family's move to the Watts neighborhood of Los Angeles in 1940 only multiplied the sounds of diverse ethnicities mixed with the rumble of jazz from the Cherry Blossom, his father's club, where Don and his sister sometimes danced for dimes. His horn funneled all this sound—all the music he'd ever make—through a peculiarly powerful feeling: "that feeling to me, through as much music as I've learned, I still remember just that feeling when I first got that horn." What feeling exactly? "Infant happiness" (in-fant, not speaking). The feeling of life before language: "infant happiness, infant happiness, beautiful! That's what music is really... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Ideas 61.3 (2000) 473-492 [Access article in PDF] Sainte-Beuve between Renaissance and Enlightenment Paul Nelles For a period of eight years in the 1840s Charles-Augustin de Sainte-Beuve held a post of conservateur at the Bibliothèque Mazarine. 1 Each day he traversed the gallery of hommes illustres which decorated the reading room. This held busts of major figures from history and literature. In one of (...) his portraits littéraires from these years Sainte-Beuve pretended to derive inspiration from this legion of intellectual heroes. Among the busts stood one of Gabriel Naudé, Mazarin's first librarian in the 1640s. Sainte-Beuve dreamt, he wrote at the time, of placing Naudé's bust beside that of Charron, or even better, between those of Montaigne and Bayle. Through Naudé, Sainte-Beuve avowed to discover the genius loci of the Bibliothèque Mazarine. Yet whatever local reasons there were for the presence of Naudé's bust at the Mazarine, Sainte-Beuve set out in this essay to find a place for Naudé among the pantheon of French thinkers on his own merits. Such playfulness with a biographical conceit of both the literary and visual arts belied serious purpose. If it fuelled Sainte-Beuve's claim to have found in the seventeenth-century thinker "un sceptique moraliste sous masque d'érudit," 2 it was also expressive of a critical campaign devoted to the revision of a received tradition of French thought and learning. Sainte-Beuve [End Page 473] juxtaposed a seventeenth-century tradition of "literary" skepticism independent of formal philosophy with an Enlightenment inheritance he was eager to disown. Central to this task was a disciplinary turn away from philosophical inquiry and the history of philosophy to literary history. This in turn entailed a full embrace of the shadowy inhabitants of the margins of pre-Enlightenment thought from the late Renaissance to Bayle.Sainte-Beuve's discovery of seventeenth-century precursors, as he clearly regarded them, was first sketched in a series of articles in the Revue des Deux Mondes in the 1830s and 1840s. Naudé was thus somewhat more than a random sighting in Sainte-Beuve's critical galaxy. Together with Bayle and a handful of other figures Naudé occupied a key position within the constellation of thinkers Sainte-Beuve charted in plotting a course for the practice of literary history and criticism in the middle years of the nineteenth century. The context of the development of Sainte-Beuve's enterprise illuminates an intriguing aspect of the historiography of skepticism in modern intellectual history. While functioning in part to legitimize literary history as a discipline, the circumstances of Sainte-Beuve's undertaking are rooted in wider contemporary currents of historiography and the philosophy of history. There is, then, a crucial disjuncture between the tradition Sainte-Beuve set out to describe and that established in the twentieth century under the rubric of libertinage. Sainte-Beuve did not seek to establish seventeenth-century origins for Enlightenment free thought. Rather, he turned to the seventeenth century in an effort to exhume a tradition of criticism and literary skepticism with which, on his account, the Enlightenment had openly broken. 3Sainte-Beuve's interest in Naudé, Bayle, and other figures derived from a need to differentiate the orientation and method of literary history from contemporary mechanisms for assessing the significance of France's intellectual and cultural heritage. For all concerned this was a heritage unquestioningly viewed through the prism of the political events of 1789 and their aftermath. According to Sainte-Beuve, la critique emerged in the seventeenth century with thinkers such as Charron, Naudé, and Bayle. From his standpoint, the significance of such figures inhered entirely in their pre-Enlightenment status. They vividly illustrate how the Enlightenment had deviated from a well-established tradition of la critique. The degree to which they served as a foil to the Enlightenment becomes evident when contrasted with Sainte-Beuve's characterization of mainstream Enlightenment figures. [End Page 474]For Sainte-Beuve and his contemporaries literature was not yet restricted to a narrow canon... (shrink)

According to one of the rivals, “poets do not create from knowledge but on the basis of certain natural talents and guided by divine inspiration, just like seers and the singers of oracles.”1 There is “a form of possession and madness, caused by the muses, that seizes a tender and untouched soul and inspires and stimulates it so that it educates by praising the deeds of ancestors in songs and in every other mode of poetry. Whoever knocks on the door (...) of poetry without the madness of the muses trusting that technique alone will make him a whole poet does not reach his aim; he and his poetry of reason disappear before the poetry of the madman.”2 Even knowledge cannot arise in a purely rational way. In his seventh letter Plato explains how “from a long and dedicated pursuit of the subject and from close companionship, [understanding] suddenly, like fire being kindled by a leaping spark, is born in the soul and straightaway finds nourishment in itself.”3 Thus understanding or building a work of art contains an element that goes beyond skill, technical knowledge, and talent. A new force takes hold of the soul and directs it, toward theoretical insight in one case, toward artistic achievement in the other.The view adumbrated in these quotations is very popular today. Interestingly enough it seems to receive support form the most rigorous and most advanced parts of the sciences. This rigor, it is pointed out, is but a transitory stage in a process which has much in common with what Plato envisaged. Of course, it is necessary to make some changes: Plato’s knowledge was stable while scientific knowledge progresses. Plato assumed that outside forces—madness, divine inspiration—impinge on the soul while the moderns let the appropriate ideas, images, emotions arise from the individual soul itself. But there seem to exist many reasons to recommend a Platonism that has been modified in this way.In the following essay I shall try to show that the reasons that have been given are invalid and that the view itself—the view that culture needs individual creativity—is not only absurd but also dangerous. To make my criticism as concrete as possible I shall concentrate on e specific group of arguments in its favor. And to make it as clear as possible I shall use arguments trying to show the role of individual creativity in the sciences. If these clear and detailed arguments fail, then the rhetoric emerging from more foggy areas will altogether lose its force. 1. Plato, Apology of Socrates 22c. Translations, unless otherwise noted, are my own2. Plato, Phaedrus 245a.3. Plato, Epistles 341c, d. Paul Feyerabend studied singing and opera production in Vienna, history of theater and theatrical production at the Institute for the Methodological Reform of the German Theater in Weimar, and physics, astronomy, and philosophy in Vienna. He has lectured on aesthetics, the history of science, and philosophy in Austria, Germany, England, New Zealand, and the United States. At the moment he holds a joint appointment at the University of California, Berkeley, and the Federal Institute of Technology in Zurich. His books include Against Method , Erkenntnis für freie Menschen , and Philosophical Papers . Forthcoming works are Farewell to Reason and Stereotypes of Reality. (shrink)

Past, present, and future are reversed in the reader's encounter with the illustrations selected by Gertrude Stein for her Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas.1 After the table of contents there is a table of illustrations that encourages everyone to look at the pictures before they begin reading. During that initial examination, the illustrations forecast what is to be discovered in the text. Expectations are aroused by photographs showing Gertrude Stein in front of the atelier door, rooms hung with paintings, Gertrude (...) and Alice in front of Saint Mark's Cathedral, and both with a car in front of Joffre's birthplace. It is natural—although, as it turns out, not altogether correct—to assume that the accumulation of paintings will be explained, that the life lived within the rooms will be fully depicted, and that conventional narrative explanation will be provided to account for the presence of Gertrude and Alice together in such disparate settings as Venice and the French marshal's home. · 1. For useful comments on several pictures as well as evidence that "even the book's sixteen photographs were carefully placed in the first edition," see Richard Bridgman, Gertrude Stein in Pieces , p. 219. Paul K. Alkon, professor of English at the University of Minnesota, is author of Samuel Johnson and Moral Discipline. Among his recent articles are "Boswellian Time" and "The Historical Development of the Concept of Time." He is writing a book about time in Defoe's fiction. See also: "The Mind, The Body, and Gertrude Stein" by Catharine R. Stimpson in Vol. 3, No. 3; "Gertrude Stein, the Cone Sisters, and the Puzzle of Female Friendship" by Carolyn Burke in Vol. 8, No. 3. (shrink)

Paul Oskar Kristeller, Frederick Woodbridge professor emeritus of philosophy at Columbia University, was a major scholar of Renaissance philosophy and Renaissance humanism. He was born Paul Oskar Gräfenberg in Berlin but took the name of his stepfather at age 14. His father died shortly after Paul Oskar's birth. He attended school at Mommsen Gymnasium in Berlin. In 1923 Kristeller started college, studying philosophy, medieval history, and mathematics at Heidelberg, Freiburg, and Marburg between the years 1923-1928. He earned a Ph.D. in (...) 1928 at the University of Heidelberg, with a thesis on Plotinus. With the rise of the National Socialist government in Germany and its racist and anti-Semitic policies, he went to Italy in 1933, remaining there until 1938 when the Mussolini regime gained more power. He obtained a position at Yale University, then a permanent faculty position at Columbia University in 1939, where he spent the rest of his career. His talk, Renaissance Philosophy and the Mediaeval Tradition, was given as part of the Wimmer Memorial Lecture Series at Saint Vincent in 1961, and was published two years later. The widely-published and internationally-recognized scholar died in 1999 at the age of 94. (shrink)

L'oeuvre du philosophe Paul Gilbert, jésuite belge professeur de métaphysique depuis vingt-cinq ans à l'Université Grégorienne, est considérable et mérite d'être mieux connue. Après avoir étudié les écrits de saint Anselme (Dire l'ineffable, 1984), Paul Gilbert a questionné la métaphysique classique, sous l'influence de la philosophie réflexive (La Simplicité du principe, 1994). Il a ensuite souligné les chances offertes à la réflexion fondamentale par l'analogie, thème classique mais oublié (La Patience d'être, 1996, et Sapere e sperare, 2003). Plus récemment, (...) il a abordé la question de la violence, ce mal- être si commun (Violence et compassion, 2009). En 1997 déjà, son travail a été récompensé du prix Cardinal Mercier de l'U.C.Louvain-la-Neuve. Durant de nombreuses années, Paul Gilbert a été professeur invité à l'Institut catholique de Paris. A l'occasion de son éméritat dans cette institution, un colloque y a été organisé. Dans leurs communications, S. Bonanni, Ph. Capelle-Dumont, S. D'Agostino, E. Gabellieri, J. de Gramont, 1. Malaguti, R. Repole et E. Tourpe reprennent et développent l'élaboration de la pensée de Paul Gilbert. Ce dernier fait écho à chacune d'elles et, dans un exposé final, retrace son propre itinéraire intellectuel. (shrink)

“Give to everyone who begs from you,” Jesus advised his followers. Most of us do not and rush on by, concerned for our safety, for what the beggar will buy with our gift of alms, for who will benefit from our gift. Fewer stop and give something: if not cash, then a snack or beverage, and their precious time. A century since Marcel Mauss published his famous essay, we all feel quite well informed about “the gift.” In this richly detailed (...) study, Caner's achievement is to show how different gift-giving was in the late antique Roman Empire, “the first truly affluent, complex Christian society.” Philanthropy was no longer the ancient “love of humanity,” the imperative to be generous to people, when you thought, or even knew, that they did not deserve it. Yet philanthropy was moreover not, or not only, a series of precisely calibrated acts of reciprocal giving.Caner's focus is on the religious gift. He identifies five distinct categories of religious gift-giving, which others have too easily conflated. The newest of these was the blessing (eulogia), which emerged only in the sixth century, in the thousands of sermons, saintly lives, and letters that Caner consulted. It has been identified similarly in other ascetic cultures, for example in Hinduism and Jainism, as the pure or free gift whose existence Mauss denied. The blessing is a gift of divine benevolence, grace delivered through a human mediator. It is not synonymous with the gift of alms (eleēmosynē), a very human act of mercy from one individual to another. These are in turn distinct from charity (agapē), “self-sacrificial gifts derived from essential resources”; two forms of offering—liturgical offerings (prosphorai), such as the communion bread, on the one hand, and fruit-bearing offerings (karpophoriai), along with agricultural and other gifts to support religious professionals. “Each category,” which has an equivalent in contemporary Syriac and Coptic writings, “was associated with a distinct set of goals, responsibilities, relationships, and material resources.”The late antique city was as busy with organized gangs of professional beggars as any modern downtown, but early Christians could not simply turn away. They were hectored into caring by golden-mouthed preachers like John, bishop of New Rome. Chrysostom insisted that almsgiving should be direct and personal, a source of discomfort for those who offered comfort. The rich might also, as ever, engage in ostentatious acts of giving, the exchange of worldly goods to redeem them from their sins, including the pride associated with ostentatious giving. Transactional gift-giving could end up with everyone insulted: generosity could be refused, donors repudiated, gifts returned. That much seems familiar at a time when museums and universities have felt compelled to remove the names of disgraced donors from their buildings and galleries. Caner's rich analysis, because it is so firmly rooted in early Byzantium, offers reasons, and some new tools, to think again and hard about the complexities of philanthropy. (shrink)

The Christian commandment of love of neighbour “You shall love your neighbour as yourself” might rather easily give rise to what I would like to call, with the necessary reservations, ‘immoderate images’. If we examine the consequences of the commandment, we very soon run into a world of excessive obligations and exaggerated unselfishness which can trouble the imagination and stir up fantasies of desire. The commandment which some would say is irreconcilable with the natural limits of common sense, is nonetheless (...) intriguing to both the imagination and the desire of the human person. Associations can easily be made with the peculiar and sometimes spectacular lives of certain saints, martyrs and impassioned mystics in which the boundaries between perversion, narcissism, selflessness, self-destruction and high moral standing are not always crystal clear.It is perhaps possible that Christianity’s attractiveness is due, in no small measure, to this associative network of tormented images and extreme examples which are easily evoked by the vestiges of our commandment. The fact that some people, when reflecting on the commandment, are almost exclusively inclined to think of extreme, and sometimes sinister, sacri- fices does not only speak of the commandment itself but also reveals something about such people and their desires. It is almost as if the commandment, while at first sight running against common sense, at the same time plays along with, and even leans towards, our human desires.We might ask ourselves if it is not a fact that every ethical theory somehow turns around a ‘core’ which, if we relate to it too directly and too literally, can let the theory’s principles run wild. Perhaps the commandment of love of neighbour has taken the place of such a ‘disorienting core’ in Christianity. Perhaps also there can be no particular ethic which does not somewhere run the risk of leading to excess. If this is the case, however, then the commandment of love of neighbour loses something of its specific expressiveness. Nevertheless, it is my contention that we can argue with good reason that our Christian commandment disorients moral rules and obligations in a very direct, radical and even characteristic way.In order to argue my point, the first part of this essay will be devoted to a discussion of Freud’s repudiating and reticent attitude in relation to this commandment. In this regard, I will make an abstraction of the question how the tradition, the church and moral education have taught us to understand the commandment and focus our attention on a structural and grammatical analysis of its formulation. I will argue that Freud’s aversion entails the fact that our commandment, in contrast to the incest taboo and the Ten Commandments, as such forbids nothing. Indeed, it is precisely the fact that it forbids nothing that makes it so alarming.In the second part of the essay I will return to the way in which the tradition has taught us to understand this ‘opaque commandment’. I will point out that the paradigmatic line of approach concerns ‘helping the needy’, although the commandment, in the literal sense, speaks only of love. I will also tackle the question of the identity of my neighbour and what it means for someone to become my neighbour. In conclusion I will raise the question whether in fact every kind of charitable activity can be understood from the perspective of ‘helping’.The problem which lies at the root of this question, however, is the following: if it is the case that the solid and characteristic core of love of neighbour has to do with the alleviation of needs, then why, in exceptional circumstances, is burying the dead considered an act of charity? (shrink)

Paul Collins travels the globe piecing together the missing body and soul of one of our most enigmatic founding fathers: Thomas Paine. A typical book about an American founding father doesn’t start at a gay piano bar and end in a sewage ditch. But then, Tom Paine isn’t your typical founding father. A firebrand rebel and a radical on the run, Paine alone claims a key role in the development of three modern democracies. In death, his story turns truly bizarre. (...) Shunned as an infidel by every church, he had to be interred in an open field on a New York farm. Ten years later, a former enemy converting to Paine’s cause dug up the bones and carried them back to Britain, where he planned to build a mausoleum in Paine’s honor. But he never got around to it. So what happened to the body of this founding father? Well, it got lost. Paine’s missing bones, like saint’s relics, have been scattered for two centuries, and their travels are the trail of radical democracy itself. Paul Collins combines wry, present-day travelogue with an odyssey down the forgotten paths of history as he searches for the remains of Tom Paine and finds them hidden in, among other places, a Paris hotel, underneath a London tailor's stool, and inside a roadside statue in New York. Along the way he crosses paths with everyone from Walt Whitman and Charles Darwin to sex reformers and hellfire ministers—not to mention a suicidal gunman, a Ferrari dealer, and berserk feral monkeys. In the end, Collins’s search for Paine’s body instead finds the soul of democracy—for it is the story of how Paine’s struggles have lived on through his eccentric and idealistic followers. (shrink)

continent. 1.2 (2011): 125-128. What is the nature of sound? What is the nature of volume? William James, in attempting to address these simple questions wrote, “ The voluminousness of the feeling seems to bear very little relation to the size of the ocean that yields it . The ear and eye are comparatively minute organs, yet they give us feelings of great volume” (203-­4, itals. original). This subtle extensivity of sensation finds its peer in the subtle yet significant influence (...) of habituated action upon our lives. This expansive quality of habit­making is what Craig Dongoski's bodies of work enable us to appreciate. Nearly ten years ago Dongoski had a habit of turning on his audio recorder every day at three o'clock for three minutes. No matter what the setting, what the activity, Dongoski recorded the ambient sounds in his environment at that moment. As it happened, one day he was teaching a drawing class and he recorded the sounds of their pencils scratching across their respective surfaces. This was a critical moment for him. Later he would place a contact mic onto a drawing surface and record the sound of his signature. Signatures change over time, they respond to the conditions in which they are performed. Signatures speak volumes about the author, but a practice of attunement is required for the volume to be audible. To hear all that a signature can tell about its author, the listener must tune into the frequency at which this information is being broadcast. Dongoski's drawings and video works draw­out the peculiar artifact that habit makes of living: habits establish a tempo of living and it seems that one's habitus is the signature of habitual living. I sat down with Craig in an attempt to sound­out some of the depths of thought in his practice. What follows is selected from our conversation. Paul Boshears (PB): Clearly your work is dealing with time: from the painstaking action of rendering the drawing to the free­form approach of launching a microphone into a body of water and waiting to see what's recorded. Craig Dongoski (CD): Are we talking about the films or the drawings? PB: Well, it's a bit of both in my mind. I know the drawings on first glance seem to be these flows of lines without concern but I realize that there is this painstaking action involved. CD: I'm interested in time because I'm interested in forms outside of control, outside of politics, and outside of economics. I think that art, when it's alive, does go beyond those. I'm interested in duality and paradox—a stream of contradiction, I suppose. For instance, scale and size. There is a tendency to think that these are the same thing. But really you can have something small that has a lot of scale—look at Goya's drawings, Los Caprichos , they're very small but they have a lot of scale. Likewise things that are spontaneous don't necessarily mean that they take only two or three seconds to do. This latter distinction is what I'm most interested in. Having that appearance of spontaneity. The image has rhythm, you can latch onto it; but the reality is that it took many hours—and many months in some cases—to arrive at. And this is in keeping with geological time. I like to insert this series of thoughts into my work sometimes as an attempt to make some of this stuff comprehensible. There are all these distractions inundating us throughout our days now. Time gets tweaked by all these technologies that we interact with daily. There's more than just digital time or the mechanical time of your watch. There's biological time, that time in which you're growing. PB: I'm reminded of McLuhan here: he made his career by making that strong claim that the humans of today are not the same humans of three generations ago because technology has fundamentally changed us. Are we not the same human beings as a hundred years ago? CD: I mean, I don't think we're the same human beings that we were when he was around! It's my understanding that before painting a flower, monks would meditate for hours on that flower and then they would complete the painting of that flower in less than a minute. That's what I want to point out about our world today, we have all this information, but how much of it are we metabolizing? PB: Is there a message you're looking for? Or that you're trying to share? CD: These drawings set­up the circumstances for me to continue them forever. I'm only about six years into it, but with more time, things can unfold. You know? If you take this cup of coffee and vow to restrict your work to only this material and medium for seven years—you'll make interesting work. The problem is that most people can't hold on to things or they give up or they get distracted. They don't trust that anything is possible; anything is potential material. Staying with this cup of coffee example, we can get enveloped in the history of the recycling logo, or the process for harvesting coffee and so on. The same is true for my work as it has lead me into places like graphical music scores. I had, of course, known about John Cage's notations and I'd always been interested in sound itself, but this drawing practice made it feasible to explore the intersections in a meaningful way. I think that if you trust your instincts and your curiosities and your abilities, then the bus drives itself. Look at Roman Opalka, he's kind of the patron saint of time painting. The claim is that no one can count to a billion in a lifetime so he's set­out to paint to seven sevens (7,777,777). He began with white numbers on a black field but over the years he has gradually reduced the black field to ever­lightening grays. His plan is to paint these seven sevens on what ostensibly will be white on white. PB: It occurs to me that I've never thought of the actual, literal, meaning of “microphone” in relation to “microscope.” The mic has made everything loud, the world's not allowed to be quiet anymore. Maybe we should call them “macrophones” since telephone's already taken... CD: Well, a microscope is a lens. What got me interested in sound was that a microphone acts like a lens. There are wide angle lenses, or a lens that gets your eye up close to something far away, or at a tiny level. The same is true of the microphone. You can use a parabolic mic to hear what the coach is saying on a sports field or a mic that picks­up the sound from the entire cathedral. There's this whole gamut... I'm kind of playing with the words here. I'm into the minuteness of the sound, but I'm interested in the minuteness of the mark itself. PB: I guess it's a Deluezean, generative, statement, then? It's not a metaphor, it's an actual thing with which we can work. CD : That's right. PB: While doing some background work on you I found myself at interesting places on the internet. For example, Konstantin Raudive and a brief jog into Electronic Voice Phenomena (EVP); perhaps this was just synchronicity. But, it's a happy coincidence nonetheless because the them of this issue of continent. is “the moraine” and one of the nuances of this term is “what remains.” Is there a metaphysical or epistemological problem that you're sorting­out here? CD: Think about fossils: fossils are the first recording device, you know? It's the first, natural, recording device. It's in this way that I think my works are fossilized time. Artifacts of that process. Van Gogh is a strong source for me in this regard: it's not what he's painting it's how. You're seeing his nervous system at work. The what is so incidental, the chairs, the flowers, etc. It's funny: when I first started doing this, before I started drawing voices, I was doing these things in cemeteries. I was doing automatic drawings. And when I took this experiment to its maximum I was taking hydrophones and burying them in abandoned graves. I was thinking about the mic rig as the south coordinate and I'd use a shortwave radio as the north coordinate. Usually it was just white noise, but on the east and west I'd station a writer and a drawer. So I'd have these things going on simultaneously and I'd be mixing them at the same time. PB: How'd it come out? CD: Well, just like you'd expect. It was a lot of white noise. But I think that Raudive was on to something. Burroughs used to say something similar when he'd talk about being in a foreign country where he didn't know the language and then he'd start to hear things. At the base, what I'm doing is pattern recognition. I do have a writing component to the drawings. I haven't exploited it in a while but... I use a vocoder, which was developed to encrypt spy signals during one of the World Wars. The mechanism takes two channels, one being the spy's signal combined with noise and then the other channel is a sine wave so that the intended recipient can pick out the words. So I did something like this with Beowulf. I tried combining the spoken word with other television and radio sources, but that didn't work because a book on tape is usually read in a very steady clip and the result was too garbled. So the second try, instead of drawing I was writing, trying to articulate the sounds that I could hear in this garbled transmission of Beowulf. You start to think you hear something, so you start to write what you think you're hearing. But what you're hearing is just being triggered by this articulating action. When the sound of the drawing lines up with the sound of the word you get something. But it's not ever what you're really hearing. You start writing and you're trying to keep up with what you think you're hearing and it is truly, in the most true sense of the phrase, automatic writing. You can contrive and go into a “spirit trance” or whatever, but... PB: It's uninteresting to you? CD: Well, it's unbelievable. It's just listening to sounds and following along. The magic is out there, there are no tricks or anything. You do this exercise with twenty people and you will get twenty totally different writings. But, you're creating the sound and you're creating the writing as an interpretation. That's the thing with EVP, it's homophonic translation. PB: Do you trust a straight line? I know you start with these meticulous lines at the beginning of the drawings but they do change over time. CD: I'm trying to show that there are these imperfections in structures and that over the reiterations of these structures these imperfections become amplified. But you can see them in tree formation as well. The rings alter their shape as the trees grow. PB: Is that your transmission then? You're not just receiving these sounds but you're broadcasting this message as well? CD: Things exist because of their opposites. These drawings are really about nothing. It's the first body of work I've had where people project so much of stuff onto the works. So there you go, things existing because of their opposites. It's kind of like with Mike Kelley: the work was about a critique of commodity culture and commodifying emotions. Using toys this was a critique of production. But then suddenly people were saying it was about abuse and the abuse that Mike Kelley had suffered. And it wasn't but he heard that and said, “I'll go with it,” and so he did. I think that's the nature of communication: I send this but you receive that instead and this makes me think about what I sent in a different way. (shrink)

Né en 1900 à Saint-Pétersbourg, mort à Paris en 1970, Paul Evdokimov, au temps du deuxième Concile du Vatican (auquel il participa activement comme invité) et bien au-delà, fut un des plus remarquables témoins de la théologie et de la spiritualité russes au cœur de la culture française. Particulièrement sensible à la problématique œcuménique comme à celui de l'athéisme, il écrivait dans une perspective de partage et d'éveil. Conscient - acteur aussi - de l'immense mutation que connaît aujourd'hui le (...) christianisme pour retrouver la joie pascale, la force créatrice de l'Esprit, l'appel de l'ultime. Dans La Connaissance de Dieu selon la Tradition orientale, Paul Evdokimov jalonne les voies d'une autre connaissance, inséparable de l'amour, de la justice et de la beauté, la connaissance du cœur intelligent embrasé par le feu de l'Esprit. Après une grande fresque de théologie mystique, il étudie l'expérience liturgique et celle de l'icône, et montre comment la " prière de Jésus " et toute l'ascèse " hésychiaste " (l'hésychia est la paix de l'union à Dieu) permettent à l'intelligence de s'unir au cœur. Pour la rencontre, la vision, la compassion, la joie. (shrink)

ABSTRACTThis contribution investigates the mystical anthropology of two important and related medieval mystics, William of Saint-Thierry and Hadewijch, neither of whom were well known in their own day, but who have come to the fore of scholarly attention in recent years. In the first part, the authors explore the Trinitarian theology of William of Saint-Thierry and the ways in which it provides the foundation for his mystical anthropology. William radically argues that the human soul is structured according to (...) the pattern of the Trinitarian life, and advocates a reciprocal and mutual encounter between the soul and God in which each touch and pass over into one another, becoming one Spirit. In the 13th century, Hadewijch would draw on William’s fundamental insights, integrating them into her own mystical-theological thought. Following her theoretical reflections on the nature of the soul, and unlike her contemporaries in the Schools, Hadewijch maintains that the soul has the natural potential to be united with God without a created intermediary, and that in mystical union, the soul becomes God in love. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Japan Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies 2005 Annual MeetingPaul SwansonThe 2005 meetings of the Japan Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies focused on the theme "Personal and Impersonal Aspects of the Absolute" and were divided into two venues, with a preliminary panel at the nineteenth World Congress of the International Association for the History of Religions (IAHR) in Tokyo, March 24–30, and the regular annual meeting held in Kyoto on July 19–21. (...) At both meetings, the same four papers by JSBCS members were presented, in English at the World Congress and in Japanese at the regular meeting of the Society.The topic summary for the IAHR panel read as follows:In general, the Christian God is said to be transcendental and personal, but the Buddhist dharma is said to be immanent and impersonal. God, Christ, and Holy Spirit in the New Testament, however, have an immanent transcendent side, and it is impersonal on the immanence side. There is also a transcendent immanence side of the Buddhist Tathagata, and it is personal on the transcendent side. On the one hand, the three major personalistic monotheisms that originated in the Middle East traditionally understood the teachings of other religions as incomplete. On the other hand, in Buddhism other religions are looked down on as "other ways," unable to bring about final liberation (ADK IX). It is said that in the case of the personalistic religions, there is risk of spiritual attachment because God reveals His absolute divine will to believers through prophets; in the case of Buddhism, practitioners are urged to seek their own enlightenment and even, in some early sutras, to use critical reasoning. However, even in Buddhism the thoughts of the founders of the sects have authority. It is important to re-examine the meaning of God and dharma from the perspective of the human personality structure.Chaired by Watanabe Manabu, the IAHR panel consisted of the following four paper presentations:1. Hanaoka Eiko, "Absolute Infinite Openness in Christianity and Buddhism." The origin of a personal God in Christianity and impersonal "emptiness" or "absolute nothingness" in Buddhism are both personal and also impersonal [End Page 183] as an "absolute infinite openness." The self-awareness of absolute infinite openness is the self-awareness of the experience of the most personal dimension, and always simultaneously of the most impersonal dimension. It is that impersonal dimension that this paper investigates.2. Takemura Makio, "On the Significance of Buddha in Buddhism." Buddhism has a view of the Absolute that is comparatively unique. The Absolute is not found in the absolute in contrast to the relative. It is always found in the identity of the absolute and the relative, that is, the identity of any conditioned dharma (samskrita) and the ultimate unconditioned nature (asamskrita) as emptiness (sunyata), or the activity of jnana and the tathata or dharmata. In other words, the individuality or personality of Buddha and the universality or impersonality of tathata are never separated. The ultimate nature does not exist only by itself, and a buddha is one of many buddhas, even if people believe the Buddha as absolute. In Buddhism, buddhas as personal are filled with great compassion and work hard to guide people to become Buddha. They never judge people's guilt. Why is this so? This paper attempts to analyze the reasons in terms of questions such as whether or not the personality of the Absolute is rooted on emptiness, whether the Absolute is one or not, and so forth.3. Tanaka Yutaka, "God as the Locus of the World and the Ground of Human Freedom." This paper critically discusses Nishitani Keiji's arguments of "The Personal and the Impersonal in Religion" in his Religion and Nothingness. Comparing the Christian tradition of speculative mysticism or "panentheism" with the Zen Buddhist philosophy of "Nothingness," the paper seeks to show that God as the locus of the cosmos is the transcendental ground of human freedom and subjectivity.4. Yagi Seiichi, "Impersonal God in the New Testament." In the Pauline epistles and Johannine literature, the key words of a theology that indicates the oneness of divine-human activity can be identified: God working in us, as an expression of mutual... (shrink)

The doctrine of the Holy Trinity requires the joint truth of the statements that there is a unique and simple God, and that there are three distinct Persons each of which is God. Saint Augustine posed the question what entities would have to exist, and how would they have to be related, in order for this doctrine to be internally consistent. The present book examines the attempts by ten leading philosophers (Augustine himself, Boethius, Abelard, Gilbert, Lombard, Bonaventure, Albert, Aquinas, (...) Scotus and Ockham) to answer Augustine's question. Subsidiary questions include the nature of divine simplicity, the divine perfections, the personal relations and their associated properties, and the interrelation between the abstract and the concrete within the Godhead. Each one of the historical theories of the Trinity is presented as a semantic model postulating a domain that, as needed, comprises a number of substances and non-substances. In each case, the theory's terms (e.g. the names of the Persons, and of the divine perfections, etc.) are assigned to elements in the domain. The elements to which the names apply essentially are designated as such. As needed, the abstracts of the names are also assigned elements in the domain. Various pairs of elements in the domain are connected as correlatives, or as abstract and concrete, or by way of substantial predication. These models allow for comparisons between different theories, and provide a means of checking a theory's consistency. (shrink)

Saint Paul's "thorn in the flesh" has been the subject of much controversy in medical, historical and religious literature. It was crucial for the development of Paul's theology and, therefore, its study is important for a better understanding of early Christianity. The purpose of this article is to review the available evidence on this issue, perform a historical and medical critical analysis and suggest plausible diagnosis that have not been previously published in scientific literature. Our research on (...) primary sources seem to indicate that in 41–42 AD Paul of Tarsus developed a clinical picture with a pain similar to that of a thorn injury and bad physical appearance. It could also have a chronic course with a limited number of relapses and few global. It could remind Job’s illness and provoke humiliation in Paul and repulse in his audience. Multiple diseases could explain some of these data, but fewer explain all of them. Though a definitive diagnosis cannot be achieved, we think that cutaneous disorders are the most obvious candidates for a humiliating and painful disease which, however, would permit long journeys during more than a decade. Disorders with cutaneous involvement like lupus erythematosus, dermatomyositis, urticaria/angioedema, leukocytoclastic vasculitis or nodular vasculitis should be added to other possibilities previously reported. (shrink)

The Existentialist Reader is a comprehensive anthology of classic philosophical writings from eight key existentialist thinkers: Sartre, Camus, Heidegger, de Beauvoir, Jaspers, Marcel, Merleau-Ponty, and Ortega y Gasset. These substantial and carefully selected readings consider the distinctive concerns of existentialism: absurdity, anxiety, alienation, death. A comprehensive introduction by Paul S. MacDonald illuminates the existentialist quest for individual freedom and authentic human experience with insight into the historical and intellectual background of these major figures. The Existentialist Reader is a valuable guide (...) to the provocative theories that shook the philosophical world in the 1930s and continue to profoundly shape the way we think about ourselves. (shrink)

Philip Quinn, John A. O’Brien Professor at the University of Notre Dame from 1985 until his death in 2004, was well known for his work in the philosophy of religion, political philosophy, and core areas of analytic philosophy. Although the breadth of his interests was so great that it would be virtually impossible to identify any subset of them as representative, the contributors to this volume provide an excellent introduction to, and advance the discussion of, some of the questions of (...) central importance to Quinn in the last years of his working life. Paul J. Weithman argues in his introduction that Quinn’s interest and analyses in many areas grew out of a distinctive and underlying sensibility that we might call “liberal faith.” It included belief in the value of a liberal education and in rigorous intellectual inquiry, the acceptance of enduring religious, cultural, and political pluralism, along with a keen awareness of problems posed by pluralism, and a deeply held but non-utopian faith in liberal democratic politics. These provocative essays, at the cutting edge of epistemology, the philosophy of religion, philosophical theology, and political philosophy, explore the tenets of liberal faith and invite continuing engagement with the philosophical issues. “Philip Quinn was admired enormously throughout the world of professional philosophy.... His reputation for rigor, his tireless service to the profession, and his essentially ‘non-dogmatic,’ but philosophically sophisticated faith is widely admired... The essays in this volume are first-rate contemporary philosophy along with an excellent introduction to Quinn’s work.” —_Charles Taliaferro, St. Olaf College_ "The papers that form _Liberal Faith_ give insightful treatments of three types of questions: first, how can we conscientiously believe something when there are many people we admire who do not believe it, and what is the underlying relation here between justification and rationality; second, what does it mean to desire union with God, and can Christians properly believe in the possibility of eternal self-annihilation; third, how should liberal democracy accommodate the religious convictions of its members, whether some comprehensive doctrine such as a religion is required to justify a commitment to human equality, and whether there is an absolute moral prohibition on the state use of torture. The volume has an unusually good introduction putting the papers into dialog with each other and with the work of Philip Quinn. The papers are cohesive because the central themes of Philip Quinn's work hold together into a picture of how Christianity and Liberal Democracy fit together." —_John Hare, Noah Porter Professor of Philosophical Theology, Yale Divinity School _ “This is a collection of high quality essays dealing with various topics related to Philip Quinn’s work. The book makes an original contribution by virtue of its individual papers, each of which is new. These essays will be of interest to scholars and students who followed Quinn’s work, especially in philosophy of religion and political philosophy.“ —_John Greco, The Leonard and Elizabeth Eslick Chair in Philosophy, Saint Louis University _. (shrink)

This book is an inquiry into the motivation for altruistic behavior. It uncovers the condition that prompts or sometimes even compels us to act intentionally for the benefit of others. This condition, the pre-reflective experience of another person as a self-conscious individual just like oneself, finds its origin in the very structure of the mind. The essay is a synthesis of evidence from neuroscience, phenomenology, Eastern philosophy, analytic philosophy of mind, and cognitive psychology. Hence, it is an excellent example of (...) work in applied cognitive science. The book includes a critique of the several main approaches to the explanation of the motivation for altruistic behavior: biological, psychological, and philosophical. The path of the main inquiry produces several innovative proposals in the philosophy of mind in addition to the main conclusion. Included in these are a detailed account of the structure of the human mind, an ontological categorization of mental states, a naturalistic explanation of so-called mystical states, a proposal for the role of consciousness in the downward causation of physical events, a new interpretation of the Buddhist doctrine of no-self and a unique view of the nature of love. (shrink)

[Omslag] La question du mal résonne à travers toute l'œuvre de Paul Ricoeur comme une énigme et un scandale : très présente dès les premières œuvres, dans Finitude et culpabilité ou dans Le conflit des interprétations, elle est également au centre de l'inédit Logique, éthique et tragique du mal chez saint Augustin et elle resurgit avec force dans l'essai, Le mal. Un défi à la philosophie et à la théologie. Il n'en est pas de même de la thématique du (...) pardon, qui n'est vraiment développée que dans les dernières œuvres, en particulier dans l'épilogue de La mémoire, l'histoire, l'oubli. Et pourtant, si, comme le dit Ricoeur, « la compassion vient briser le cercle vicieux de la culpabilité », n'est-ce pas à la lumière du pardon qu'il importe de revisiter la question de la faute et même l'excès du mal? C'est l'hypothèse que suggère cet ouvrage consacré à l'œuvre de Paul Ricoeur. Fruit d'une journée d'étude organisée conjointement par le Centre Sèvres - Facultés jésuites de Paris et le Fonds Ricoeur, à l'occasion du centenaire de la naissance de Paul Ricoeur, ce volume offre en outre un long inédit de Paul Ricoeur, qui éclaire la manière dont il a travaillé Augustin, mais aussi la genèse et l'évolution de sa pensée sur la question du mal. (shrink)