Senior high school is known to be part of the newly implemented K-12 program in the Philippines' educational system. Hence, this program added two years to the academic learning program of students, which mainly focuses on different theoretical and vocational strands that aim to prepare and fully furnish the students for education and employment in the future. Due to adjustments to new online learning amidst the pandemic, students begin to experience various challenges, primarily social support and mental well-being. Hence, this (...) study investigates the relationship between social support and anxiety with 160 respondents from private schools. The findings revealed that social support and anxiety have a significant relationship (r=0.126). (shrink)

In this paper I challenge the received view of the relationship between Kierkegaard and Heidegger and explore the relationship between phenomenology and theology. Against the received view—the familiar claim that Heidegger “secularizes” Kierkegaard—I argue that both philosophers attempt to uncover the existential conditions for the possibility of an authentic existence and take the passionate religious life to be one form of such an existence. Therefore, Heidegger’s concept of resoluteness does not represent a secularized break with but rather aphenomenological development of (...) Kierkegaard’s concept of inwardness; and both concepts represent a mode of existence that is the condition for the possibility of genuine Christian faith. This grounding relationship between resoluteness and faith, I argue, is representative of Heidegger’s view of the relationship between phenomenological and theological concepts in general. Thus, my argument not only sheds light onHeidegger’s development of Kierkegaard but it also clarifies some important features of the relationship between phenomenology and theology. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Adolf Meyer: Psychiatric AnarchistS. Nassir Ghaemi (bio)KeywordsMeyer, biopsychosocial model, Jaspers, pluralism, philosophy, psychiatryThey had weekly lunches in 1920s New York City: In one door stepped a stooped philosopher, with a mustache and a twinkle, perhaps ruminating on some recent Marxist theory; in the other door came the elegant Swiss physician, goateed and erudite. Every week, for a time, John Dewey (leader of American pragmatism) and Adolf Meyer (dean (...) of mid-twentieth century American psychiatry and long-time chair of the Johns Hopkins psychiatry department) lunched together and, somewhere in those conversations—one might imagine—the field of philosophy and psychiatry was born (Meyer 1948, 152).Yet pragmatism—as a proper school of philosophy—does not capture Meyer’s psychiatry. Rather, the core of his thinking, in my view, is to be found in a vague term that deserves analysis: eclecticism.EclecticismIt has been said that eclecticism is a vice in theory but a virtue in practice (Stone 1981), which highlights why so many are attracted to it. Deep down, practitioners just want to be free: They believe that their freedom of choice will tailor treatments best to patients and thus result in best outcomes. As a conceptual theory for psychiatry, eclecticism is a model that views any theory or method as potentially correct, but no theory or method as definitively incorrect. There is no way to avoid an “anything goes” practice with eclecticism: It is—to use a political analogy—an anarchism of mind.William James once remarked that the basis for all philosophies lies in the personalities of philosophers. So it was with Meyer’s eclecticism: congenial personally, he seemed congenitally incapable of disagreeing with any person. Any idea, even the most unusual, would receive a respectful hearing from Meyer. (Double brings out new, excellent documentary evidence of this extreme indecision in the drafts of Meyer’s unsent letters to the behaviorist John Watson.) Although quaint and commendable pedagogically, this excessive open mindedness left American psychiatry—so dependent on Meyer—prey to hard-headed biological radicals and psychoanalytic dogmatists. This is where his eclecticism failed us.Enabling Biological ExtremismMeyer played a key role in legitimizing extreme biological approaches. In addition to his interest in insulin coma (which Double mentions), Meyer enabled the popularization of colectomy and frontal [End Page 341] lobotomy. Psychiatric colectomy, developed by Henry Cotton, was based on the focal toxin theory of mental illness—the idea that mental illness was caused by toxins released by bacteria in the body, the specific locations of which where were the colon and rotted teeth. In one hundred case reports, with mostly short-term follow-up, published in his prominent text, The Defective Delinquent and Insane (Cotton 1921), Cotton laid out his case, which Meyer legitimized by writing a generous foreword. Meyer’s authority was powerful enough to render Cotton’s limited evidence base much more credible than it might otherwise have been. In the 1920s and 1930s, tens of thousands colectomies and full mouth teeth extractions were conducted in patients with mental illness. (Meyer himself sometimes recommended it).1The other biological extremist story is more famous. In a 1936 conference, with Meyer in attendance, the neurologist Walter Freeman presented, for the first time, cases of refractory schizophrenia treated with a new method: frontal lobotomy. Psychoanalyst attendees protested that Freeman was proposing nothing more than mutilation of the brain; yet Meyer intervened in favor of Free-man (“I am not antagonistic to this work, but find it very interesting” [El-Hai 2005]). Unfortunately, Freeman, like Cotton, was a dogmatist: Over time, he performed frontal lobotomy more and more extensively, not just as a treatment of last resort in the most ill schizophrenics (as in the first cases presented to Meyer), but later as a treatment of first resort for the mildest mood disorders. (By 1950 Freeman had personally conducted 2400 transorbital lobotomies, an “office procedure” that allowed him to lobotomize a patient in 15 minutes [El-Hai 2005]).2Lest my critique of Meyer in that era be seen as a Whiggish interpretation of history (the claim that we are so much smarter than those shrinks of the past; in fact I think... (shrink)

[A dilettante admires a constellation from a hot tub, and considers it the next day. Is it a prose poem, creative nonfiction, or "light" verse; phenomenology, astrophysics, metaphysics, or half-lit paronomasia?]A photon hit my retina. Again, again; others also hit. The sensation seemed continuous, albeit twinkling, rather than as discrete and separated points. It was like dust, but I didn't blink.It came from a thing I would call bright, in front of me, over my head, on a dark night; it (...) is said to be a star from the cluster of a pattern I learned to call Cassiopeia, and just in a similar way, I learned about my retina, and I learned about photons, and I learned that some consider them a duality of either wavering... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Looking Back and Moving ForwardDebbie PittsI started my Nursing Assistant career forty-three years ago and have worked in the same long-term care facility for the past forty years now. Over the years, I have seen many cultural changes being made in the field. Back then everyone was referred to as patients, then residents and more recently elders. As these changes took place, it was difficult for us to change (...) in the sense of calling them patients to residents and now elders but we all manage to accomplish it. Our elders have so many more choices nowadays, which has been a wonderful additive for those who live in a facility.As I look back, I can remember when restraints were used routinely. The good old locked Posey belts, pelvic restraints, vest restraints and how many other types that we used to use. Already many years have passed since we have used these things and that is a blessing as they were nothing more than a pain to use for us and our elders. Sometimes they would be so knotted it was difficult to get them untied. I can remember that many who needed to have these were people that had symptoms of now what we call Alzheimer's or people with some sort of dementia. Back then they were unsure of this disease. These were definitely some challenging times to work in. Taking care of the combative person can be very difficult. At least now, we have much more knowledge through education as to how to handle and deal with these issues. I have been fortunate in my facility that we thrive on education, which helps me learn all the modern techniques and ways of dealing with the many issues we have today with dementias.When I go to work daily, I not only have to take care of my elders, but then I also have to deal with their families as well. This too, can be somewhat difficult at times. Some of them can become quite demanding with the cares needed for their loved one. After dealing with them I often find that they have a guilty feeling for having to place them in a nursing home, but it can still create a problem for you and make it hard to get your cares done for other elders on your daily schedule. As much as I try to reassure them that their family member is getting the best care and attention they need, sometimes it isn't enough to satisfy them. There are times if I feel pressured or frustrated I will talk with my supervisor, or a social worker, and ask them if they could have a talk with the family for me. I find that having [End Page 143] good communication with every department and all supervisors is vitally important in my job. Unlike years ago, today we are all a team and are there for our elders and their every need.On a more personal level, with my daily routine in care, I love when I can take my elder for a walk. Sometimes they may be fearful of falling or something else. Using reassurance and encouragement and getting them going can be a very rewarding situation. It's when they don't believe they are capable of doing this, and then they do, when you realize just how much you have done for them. The smiles, thank yous and hugs I get back can just warm your heart and even put tears in your eyes. The sense of accomplishment provided for them is very rewarding. This is just so true whether it be walking, eating, bathing or dressing. Taking the time to work individually with each elder on whatever levels needed is so important. When they tell their family member about their accomplishment that they achieved today, they are so proud. The smiles, twinkle in their eyes and the excitement shown is just amazing. Sometimes at this point I can develop a relationship with the difficult family member. Normally they will be happy for their loved one's accomplishment and grateful to you for helping them. My personal accomplishment is becoming a... (shrink)

Neurological Positivism’s single- and two-neuro-algorithmic referent conceptions of subjective and objective experience respectively are discussed. NP’s account of Bohr and Heisenberg’s Copenhagen interpretation of quantum reality is then described in terms of nonlinear constructions of two-neuro-algorithmic referents that are proposed also to undergird William James’s pragmatic conception of truth. In turn, qualia are depicted as nonlinear single-neuro-algorithmic referents in relation to the two-neuro-algorithmic quantum measurement procedure. Experientially, qualia are described as nonlinear "black twinkling" neuro-flux patterns which in the context of (...) overall brain organization in both phylogeny and ontogeny increase the brain’s probability of survival. It is concluded that ontological questions are really about the relationships between the two-neuro-algorithmic referent systems in the brain, and the quantum theoretical measurement procedure is the best "test" of NP’s two-neuro-algorithmic hypothesis and, as a test, greatly alters the traditional interpretation of Bell’s theorem. (shrink)

"I define the Neutral as that which outplays the paradigm, or rather I call Neutral everything that baffles paradigm." With these words, Roland Barthes describes a concept that profoundly shaped his work and was the subject of a landmark series of lectures delivered in 1978 at the Collège de France, just two years before his death. Not published in France until 2002, and appearing in English for the first time, these creative and engaging lectures deepen our understanding of Roland Barthes's (...) intellectual itinerary and reveal his distinctive style as thinker and teacher. The Neutral, as Barthes describes it, escapes or undoes the paradigmatic binary oppositions that structure and produce meaning in Western thought and discourse. These binaries are found in all aspects of human society ranging from language to sexuality to politics. For Barthes, the attempt to deconstruct or escape from these binaries has profound ethical, philosophical, and linguistic implications. _The Neutral_ is comprised of the prewritten texts from which Barthes lectured and centers around 23 "figures," also referred to as "traits" or "twinklings," that are possible embodiments of the Neutral or of the anti-Neutral. His lectures draw on a diverse set of authors and intellectual traditions, including Lao-tzu, Tolstoy, German mysticism, classical philosophy, Rousseau, Baudelaire, Walter Benjamin, and John Cage. Barthes's idiosyncratic approach to his subjects gives the lectures a playful, personal, and even joyous quality that enhances his rich insights. In addition to his reflections on a variety of literary and scholarly works, Barthes's personal convictions and the events of his life shaped the course and content of the lectures. Most prominently, as Barthes admits, the recent death of his mother and the idea of mourning shape several of his lectures. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Stiva's Idiotic GrinStewart JustmanIRecall if you will the stunning opening chapter of Anna Karenina. After laying down the principle that "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,"1 the narrative introduces us to one of the latter. The Oblonsky household is in turmoil. Having found out that her spouse is philandering with a former governess, Dolly has kept to her room for three (...) days. For the first time since the discovery Stiva, the husband, now sleeps at home—on a leather sofa in the study. Turning "as though he would sink into a long sleep again," he suddenly awakens, sits up, and tries to recover the delights of wine, women, and song that were his in a tantalizing dream. "Yes, Alabin was giving a dinner on glass tables, and the tables sang Il mio tesoro—not Il mio tesoro, though, but something better, and there were some sort of little decanters on the table, and they were women, too." A man who has been playing Don Juan plays in a dream with an aria from Don Giovanni.Incongruously for one whose household is in open revolt and whose wife flees the sight of him, as he recollects his dream Stiva's eyes "twinkled gaily, and he pondered with a smile." Awakening itself seems to be an act of escapism for Stiva. "Cheerfully" he feels about for the slippers embroidered for him by his wife. (It was when his attention was arrested by some beautiful embroidery on his robe and he fell to thinking "about how people get the idea in their heads to invent all these patterns and [End Page 427] ornaments of embroidery" that Tolstoy got the idea for Anna Karenina.)2 Only when he reaches for his dressing gown in the usual place and doesn't find it does Stiva return to reality, and as he does so, the smile disappears from his face. "'Ah, ah, ah! Oo!...' he groaned, recalling everything that had happened. And as he recalled every detail of his quarrel with his wife, he realized the hopelessness of his situation, and, most tormenting thought of all, that it was his own fault." But as if contriving an escape from a situation that permits none, he maintains that even though the crisis in his marriage and his household is undoubtedly his own doing, still he is not to blame. "And the most awful thing about it [he tells himself] is that it's all my fault—all my fault, though I'm not to blame." Like a lawyer producing an argument, Stiva invents a saving distinction between being at fault and being really at fault—in effect claiming that although he does engage in adultery, he can't be condemned for it as his wife has lost her charms and he was just following his nature. As Stiva clings to fantasy and reverie in this scene, so his belief that he isn't really to blame for his own deeds implies a defect in his sense of reality. (In Part Three of the novel we are told that despite Stiva's "efforts to be an attentive father and husband, he never could keep in his mind that he had a wife and children," p. 297.)At this point in his musings Stiva thinks back to the terrible moment when he returned "from the theater" to find his wife brandishing an incriminating letter (whether from him to the governess or the governess to him), and demanding an explanation.And at this recollection, Stepan Arkadyevich, as is so often the case, was not so much annoyed at the fact itself as at the way in which he had reacted to his wife's words.There happened to him at that instant what happens to people when they are unexpectedly caught in something very disgraceful. He did not succeed in assuming an expression suitable to the position in which he was placed by his wife's discovery of his guilt. Instead of acting hurt, denying, defending himself, begging forgiveness, instead of remaining indifferent... his face utterly involuntarily (reflex action of the brain, reflected Stepan Arkadyevich, who was... (shrink)

Located in Kleinbasel close to the Rhine, the Kaskadenkondensator is a place of mediation and experimental, research-and process-based art production with a focus on performance and performative expression. The gallery, founded in 1994, and located on the third floor of the former Sudhaus Warteck Brewery (hence cascade condenser), seeks to develop interactions between artists, theorists and audiences. Eight, maybe, nine or ten 40 litre bags of potting compost lie strewn about the floor of a high-ceilinged white washed hall. Dumped, split (...) open, the soil mixed with iridescent specks of green, blue and red glitter. On the walls hang large black and white photographic images—negative and positive prints barely clean, hardly sharp, scavenged from the world and presented half processed. On a third wall, hangs a framed golden and charcoal surface. Finally, a huge stain of black dye runs down a wall that descends into a sunken quarter of the Kaskadenkondensator gallery space. The results of a collaboration between Oliver Minder and Walter Derungs reflect on themes addressed in the recent Aesthetics in the 21st Century conference held by the department of English, University of Basel. In particular, the joint show questions how an aesthetic experience may be other than a human-world interaction, hinting at the withdrawal and veiling that objects perform, while demanding that different works engage with each other and play out this game under the non-supervisory eyes of a human audience. Things here are becoming—sometimes it’s a movement towards a more complete ontic whole in a projection of finality, other times it’s a dispersal, an atrophy to rather disarrayed entities. Yet, in the moment and place in which the objects are, we take them as here and now. Let’s get to the material of the stuff that Minder and Derungs have assembled. Oliver Minder employs organic materials—potting earth, cuttlefish ink secretion, rice, and insects; yet his works hardly seem natural in the sense of a harmonic relation between material and the form they are constrained into, the objects they are compelled to occupy. For the substrates on, through, or within which these natural materials are mediated are harshly inorganic substances—Plexiglas, safety glass, acrylic resin, boat varnish, spray paint. Minder, thus, generates a conflict within the materiality of his work between two polar opposites—from the human perspective—in the contiguity of materials engaging with each other in a thrown together formation that nonetheless appears to keep the materials and the objects they make in happy accidental relation to each other. Let me expand a little: on the one hand, the things Minder makes query our belief in substance as belonging in a particular domain, an environment suited to precisely that stuff. We are focused on thinking categorically where things belong, both in terms of natural place and natural relations they might extend to each other. Hence, we are driven to think of environment and order. On the other hand, while extracting things from their conventional place and arranging them within awkward constellations that we as observers feel isn’t quite right, Minder manages to persuade the viewer that the materials are nonetheless “doing alright.” So, simultaneous to our awareness of the appropriateness of the world according to our global notions of accord and uniformity, we are forced to accept the local discrepancies of disassociation, inappropriateness and misplacement. The tension between these two vectors generates a vacillation that intensifies Minder’s work. In the Kaskadenkondensator works, then, it is vital to first consider the material of Minder’s works: potting compost—what is it doing here in the first place?—seems to enjoy being “polluted” by sparkly glitter. Glitter has a long history, used in cosmetics by the Egyptians, and in cave paintings, too, earlier made of beetle shells and mica, nowadays glitter is made of plastic cut to minute sizes down to 50 microns. So what’s the point here? Well shiny bits of dust-like material are actually generated from ultra-thin plastic sheets and are normally cut into shapes that fit contiguously on a two-dimensional surface: squares, triangles, hexagons etc. What then appears to be totally random, chaotic decoration, is actually an array of extremely regular identifiable objects. 1 Of course scale has a role to play here. The minuteness of the dimensions means the regularity is beyond our recognition—all we see are the twinkling surfaces of the multi-coloured grains of plastic. In contrast, potting compost, which appears to be unary in its dull unresponsive lumpen disposition, is in fact an amalgam of a variety of organic and inorganic materials: peat, bark, mushroom compost, and sand and perlite, and should perhaps be more proactively exciting to the viewer because of this complexity. Yes; we can (if we care to) identify different textures, different sizes in the mixture of the medium, but I claim that we tend to treat this organic/inorganic assemblage as just a simple substance. Further and crucially important to our consideration here is that the medium is partially contained, but also partially spilling from the split plastic bags in which it is sold in garden centres. That the compost spills out gives it a movement suggesting life; that the bags are cast here and there in a random fashion by Oliver Minder, lying like discarded carcasses, hacked torsos, dismembered bodies, suggests a horrific murder scene, a Tatort. 2 The glitter flourishes in the medium, lies happy and decorative; that is simply what it does, how it is—always already broken, made-for-scattering, designed to be incomplete; the taken-to-be-natural compost, in contrast, cannot rest content but is forced to speak to us metaphorically in its abject overflowing of violence and rupture. While Oliver Minder’s elements in the installation direct our attention to material, Walter Derungs’ works raise questions around seeing and making in photography. There is a simultaneous flicker between the materials and their use in the production of a sense making representation, on the one hand, and on the other the very notion of what is worthy of picturing, framing, representing on the other. Derungs' images are of non-places. Ranging from archaic decaying monster buildings, buildings that have gone far beyond the ravages of a time that we can safely associate with the genteel preservation of a Bernd and Hill Belcher post-industrial decline, to the background “noise” of an urban world that is falling apart, and to which we most of the time seem to pay little attention, and habitually just pass by. In this respect, their non-ness differs somewhat from the conventional association of the term with Marc Augé 3 , where emphasis is on the specifics (if we do care to examine them for their non-placedness) of the spatial or place containment in which movement between multimodal coordinates occurs in supermodern late capitalist post-urban spaces. In other words, we might be in an Augéian non-place and (not) experience—be impervious to—that environment, or we might in Derungs’ manner look out from such a position at the “scenery” around us. I claim scenery, as this is what Derungs seems to do with his partial photography—construct a very purposefully articulated, symmetric, flat world of image. Mostly depopulated, his images construct a space in which the direction of time is uncertain: are these partial structures falling apart, or perhaps terminated in a never-to-be-completed state, or are they a few steps from final completion? Temporal and spatial dimensions figure large in Derungs’ image-making: his world, and perhaps this is in fact the only way for it to be registered photographically, is already image before it is photographed. A key combination of images in this show is a matrix of six black and white negative prints measuring 300 x 215 cm that form the image of a semi-derelict (or is it yet incomplete) church, and adjacent on a perpendicular wall, a single black and white positive print 150 x 250 cm of two bricked-up windows of a late-Victorian industrial building. What are we led to believe that we see here? In the negative print, the conditions of perception 4 are sufficiently reproduced for us to recognise the structure of the building, to distinguish ground and form, to relate some partial elements of narrative, and to recognize symbols such as the alter cross and figure of Christ, a looming crane, a traffic cone, and banks of tiered seating. We piece the image together both from the individual forms which we recognize despite the tonal reversal, and we piece the six prints together as a whole, the matrix of lines between them emphasizing our purview onto the world. While we recognise the forms at work in the image and might possibly relate the negative reversals to other figurations such as Vera Lutter’s camera obscura exposures, we cannot but avoid seeing the partialness of the image in the sponge marks of the developer that was spread by hand across the prints. 5 Derungs’ thus intervenes with our usual conception of photography as the mimetic realist vehicle sine qua non , by exposing the viewer to tonal reversal and incomplete or over developed areas of the print. We thus confront both the idiom of such image making and its raw (chemical) materiality at once in the simultaneity of the recognition of what the image pictures and the recognition that it is in the act of picturing. The church image, taken from the series “BW Negativs 2011,” thus orients us towards how we see things in the world via photographs. The single image of the bricked-up wall presents us with a completely different visuality that relates to a faciality 6 which we cannot easily escape from. We look, or rather try to look with no success, through the face of the windows, through the classic Albertian screen 7 which has already been given to us in the church matrix beside. Yet although we should be able to make more of these concealed windows because they are a positive print, because they are complete, because they approach us on a more realistic scale, reproduced at life size, we cannot. The objects pictured here withdraw from us; furthermore, they merely mock our blindness at not seeing how we look. Blocked up with quite a hint of paned glass behind, one window is blanked out with a white blind, the other simply blankly dark. The apertures look like eyes with teeth in them, or a Dogon mask, or even Man Ray’s Noire et Blanche (1926) if we want to get really perverse. The height of elegant modernist chauvinist beauty thrown against the vacuity of post-industrial decline. Derungs thus catapults us consciously into a world enfolded with and through images, but in such a way that the images themselves become objects that stand resistant to us, impervious to our gaze, indifferent. We—and indeed they—do not attempt to reach out to a real that is beyond, rather the images play in a world that is just theirs, and we can only enter that world if we too submit to their regime: tonal reversal, segmented, partial, inadequate, still, wrenched out of time. In contemplation, in the flood of the image “falling” off the wall, we too become image-object. Perhaps enough has now been said about the works, yet enough can never really be said, we know the image will always exceed the word—let’s accelerate the critique: Derungs’ work continues in a second space partially partitioned from this first room. Opposing three more “BW Negativs” which figure yet more quotidian aspects of the world is Minder’s gold spray paint and cuttlefish secretion mix: things that just shouldn’t work together do in the dialogue between stuff that Derungs and Minder have constructed. Minder makes things; Derungs makes images; together they make objects which inhabit their own world which we can approach and sensually engage with and come to grips with only on those objects’ own terms. This is best summarised by a final work made by Oliver Minder which on a third wall faces these two semi-partitioned spaces. A deep black stain about 100 X 200 cm with streak marks running down a further 2 metres hovers positioned to observe the whole work, and also to be part of this installation, too. This liminal flat suzerain lies in/out of the whole work. The stain of cuttlefish secretion resonates with Derungs’ sponge strokes on the church image; it mirrors the iris of an all-seeing eye; it combines material in situ with the situation itself. Where Minder’s other works have material and medium or substrate upon which the material is exercised, this single black hole is image which sucks everything up into itself. It draws the viewer, who must otherwise look away attentively at the floor work, and imagine horror, or smile at the ironic play of glitter. Look away at the image constructions that suggest how it is we too look to our world. See the play of thing and image in a third area. Or, finally return to the base of the pyramid that triangulates, to realise the stuff-image that unlocks it all for us. Black on white, organic on inorganic, material to substrate, that which in the falling out of one on the other, in its running down the wall simply gives form to both content and expression in one direction, and content and expression to form in another. NOTES In fact, glitter is used as associative forensic evidence: the 20,000 or so varieties are all uniquely identifiable. Joel Sternfeld, Tatorte: Bilder gegen das Vergessen (München: Schirmer/Mosel, 1996). Marc Augé, Non­places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity trans. John Howe (London: Verso, 2006). An echo of the uneven paint strokes of light­sensitive chemicals in the paper preparations made by Henry Talbot some 170 years ago in the first sun drawings that also often pictured architectural forms. It was Talbot’s surprising discovery that where a weaker chemical solution was more thinly spread, greater light sensitivity was actualized, yet this virtual image had then to be chemically developed in a second step. Thus, Derungs unevenly finished spongings suggestively trace back to this originary technology (although his sweeps are the stains of uneven development and not those of the initial preparation of light–sensitive material). Umberto Eco, “Critique of the Image” in “Articulations of Cinematic Code” Cinematics 1, 1970. Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia trans. Brian Massumi (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2007). Geoffrey Batchen, Burning With Desire: the Conception of Photography (Cambridge, Mass: MIT Press, 1999). (shrink)

Nichibunken 30th Anniversary: An essay in pointillism: a twinkling description; Seurat; words flash on and of; like stars; one after another; no connections of sentences; impressions; patches of words; mirroring; eccentric “monadology”; memories and projects; a fantasy; a celebration;.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Stiva's Idiotic GrinStewart JustmanIRecall if you will the stunning opening chapter of Anna Karenina. After laying down the principle that "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,"1 the narrative introduces us to one of the latter. The Oblonsky household is in turmoil. Having found out that her spouse is philandering with a former governess, Dolly has kept to her room for three (...) days. For the first time since the discovery Stiva, the husband, now sleeps at home—on a leather sofa in the study. Turning "as though he would sink into a long sleep again," he suddenly awakens, sits up, and tries to recover the delights of wine, women, and song that were his in a tantalizing dream. "Yes, Alabin was giving a dinner on glass tables, and the tables sang Il mio tesoro—not Il mio tesoro, though, but something better, and there were some sort of little decanters on the table, and they were women, too." A man who has been playing Don Juan plays in a dream with an aria from Don Giovanni.Incongruously for one whose household is in open revolt and whose wife flees the sight of him, as he recollects his dream Stiva's eyes "twinkled gaily, and he pondered with a smile." Awakening itself seems to be an act of escapism for Stiva. "Cheerfully" he feels about for the slippers embroidered for him by his wife. (It was when his attention was arrested by some beautiful embroidery on his robe and he fell to thinking "about how people get the idea in their heads to invent all these patterns and [End Page 427] ornaments of embroidery" that Tolstoy got the idea for Anna Karenina.)2 Only when he reaches for his dressing gown in the usual place and doesn't find it does Stiva return to reality, and as he does so, the smile disappears from his face. "'Ah, ah, ah! Oo!...' he groaned, recalling everything that had happened. And as he recalled every detail of his quarrel with his wife, he realized the hopelessness of his situation, and, most tormenting thought of all, that it was his own fault." But as if contriving an escape from a situation that permits none, he maintains that even though the crisis in his marriage and his household is undoubtedly his own doing, still he is not to blame. "And the most awful thing about it [he tells himself] is that it's all my fault—all my fault, though I'm not to blame." Like a lawyer producing an argument, Stiva invents a saving distinction between being at fault and being really at fault—in effect claiming that although he does engage in adultery, he can't be condemned for it as his wife has lost her charms and he was just following his nature. As Stiva clings to fantasy and reverie in this scene, so his belief that he isn't really to blame for his own deeds implies a defect in his sense of reality. (In Part Three of the novel we are told that despite Stiva's "efforts to be an attentive father and husband, he never could keep in his mind that he had a wife and children," p. 297.)At this point in his musings Stiva thinks back to the terrible moment when he returned "from the theater" to find his wife brandishing an incriminating letter (whether from him to the governess or the governess to him), and demanding an explanation.And at this recollection, Stepan Arkadyevich, as is so often the case, was not so much annoyed at the fact itself as at the way in which he had reacted to his wife's words.There happened to him at that instant what happens to people when they are unexpectedly caught in something very disgraceful. He did not succeed in assuming an expression suitable to the position in which he was placed by his wife's discovery of his guilt. Instead of acting hurt, denying, defending himself, begging forgiveness, instead of remaining indifferent... his face utterly involuntarily (reflex action of the brain, reflected Stepan Arkadyevich, who was... (shrink)

Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.