ABSTRACT The traditional conception of the link between Melancholia and a creative disposition finds its climax in the artistic-literary environment of France in the nineteenth century in Baudelaire’s poetry: he illustrates this paradigm by praising Spleen and Idéal, depicting the interplay of sweetness and bitterness as a specific and aesthetic principle that his ‘sickly flowers’ are based on. But the mental gloom of the spleen can also have its paralyzing shadows. How spleen, ennui and melancholia behave to (...) each other and how the poet confirms the classical conception of genius, will emerge by facing Baudelaire’s mourning cult. With Spleen as a central motif of his poetry his lyrical work represents simultaneously the perception of modern times: the culture of the black tails enters the streets of Paris. Starting from the poet’s observations of the morbid city, the contribution proceedes to other cornerstones from fine arts and music that illuminate the position of mélancolie in the new feeling culture within the hexagon. (shrink)

Bone marrow is the main site for hematopoiesis in adults. It acts as a niche for hematopoietic stem cells (HSCs) and contains non‐hematopoietic cells that contribute to stem cell dormancy, quiescence, self‐renewal, and differentiation. HSC also exist in resting spleen of several species, although their contribution to hematopoiesis under steady‐state conditions is unknown. The spleen can however undergo extramedullary hematopoiesis (EMH) triggered by physiological stress or disease. With the loss of bone marrow niches in aging and disease, the (...) spleen as an alternative tissue site for hematopoiesis is an important consideration for future therapy, particularly during HSC transplantation. In terms of harnessing the spleen as a site for hematopoiesis, here the remarkable regenerative capacity of the spleen is considered with a view to forming additional or ectopic spleen tissue through cell engraftment. Studies in mice indicate the potential for such grafts to support the influx of hematopoietic cells leading to the development of normal spleen architecture. An important goal will be the formation of functional ectopic spleen tissue as an aid to hematopoietic recovery following clinical treatments that impact bone marrow. For example, expansion or replacement of niches could be considered where myeloablation ahead of HSC transplantation compromises treatment outcomes. (shrink)

'Walter Pagel's last book is more arcane and difficult, certainly as erudite and inimitable, and perhaps as rewarding as all his others. In a strange alchemical mixture of alter ego, familiar and doppelgänger, Paracelsus was Pagel's cross and his torch.' With 'The Smiling Spleen', Walter Pagel reconfirms his position as a leading authority on Paracelsus and the influence of his doctrines and practice on the development of modern science and medicine. In this final work of his life, Pagel concentrates (...) on Paracelsianism as a historical phenomenon, giving major attention to the lesser-known figures who characterized the 'storm and stress' of the Paracelsian reform movement during the 16th and 17th centuries. (shrink)

This article compares three frameworks for legal regulation of the human body. Property law systematically favors those who use the body to create commercial products. Yet contract and privacy rights cannot compete with the property paradigm, which alone affords a complete bundle of rights enforceable against the whole world. In the face of researchers' property rights, the theoretical freedom to contract and the meager interest in privacy leave those who supply body parts vulnerable to exploitation.

The legal status of the human body is hotly contested, yet the law of the body remains in a state of confusion and chaos. Sometimes the body is treated as an object of property, sometimes it is dealt with under the rubric of contract, and sometimes it is not conceived as property at all, but rather as the subject of privacy rights. Which body of law should become the law of the body? This question is even more pressing in the (...) context of current biomedical research, which permits commodification and commercialization of the body by everyone except the person who provides the “raw materials.” The lack of property protection for tangible parts of the human body is in stark contrast to the extensive protection granted to intellectual property in the body in the form of patents upon human genes and cell lines. Moreover, even courts that reject ownership claims on the part of those who supply body parts appear willing to grant property rights to scientists, universities, and others who use those body parts to conduct research and create products. (shrink)

The vertebrate spleen has important functions in immunity and haematopoiesis, many of which have been well studied. In contrast, we know much less about the mechanisms governing its early embryonic development. However, as a result of work over the past decade‐mostly using knockout mice–‐significant progress has been made in unravelling the genetic processes governing the spleen's early development. Key genetic regulators, such as Tlx1 and Pbx1, have been identified, and we know some of the early transcriptional hierarchies that (...) control the early patterning and proliferation of the splenic primordium. In mouse and humans, asplenia can arise as a result of laterality defects, or the spleen can be absent with no other discernible abnormalities. Surprisingly, given the spleen's diverse functions, asplenic individuals suffer no major haematopoietic or immune defects apart from a susceptibility to infection with encapsulated bacteria. Recent evidence has shed light on a previously unknown role of the spleen in the development and maintenance of specific B cell populations that are involved in the initial response to infection caused by encapsulated bacteria. The lack of these populations in asplenic mice and humans may go some way to explaining this susceptibility. BioEssays 29: 166–177, 2007. © 2007 Wiley Periodicals, Inc. (shrink)

In most traditions, the law is founded upon some extralegal view of morality. There are only a handful of cases prior to the 1970s that involved patenting nonhuman organisms. John Moore made several claims, but the one of most interest to us here was a claim for conversion, which means the unlawful use of another person's property for the enrichment of the person using the thing unlawfully. The cell line produced from Moore's spleen cells was eventually patented by the (...) defendants. The potential market for products relating to that patent was estimated to be roughly $3 billion US dollars. The move from patenting hybridized plants, to genetically altered microorganisms, to human tissues and genes reflected the epitome of the fabled slippery slope. There is clearly a gap between our intuitions about the relations between our individual genomes, our identities, perceptions of privacy and personal autonomy, and the law. (shrink)

continent. 2.2 (2012): 66–75 ~*~ We’re Doomed. Pessimism is the night-side of thought, a melodrama of the futility of the brain, a poetry written in the graveyard of philosophy. Pessimism is a lyrical failure of philosophical thinking, each attempt at clear and coherent thought, sullen and submerged in the hidden joy of its own futility. The closest pessimism comes to philosophical argument is the droll and laconic “We’ll never make it,” or simply: “We’re doomed.” Every effort doomed to failure, every (...) project doomed to incompletion, every life doomed to be unlived, every thought doomed to be unthought. Pessimism is the lowest form of philosophy, frequently disparaged and dismissed, merely the symptom of a bad attitude. No one ever needs pessimism, in the way that one needs optimism to inspire one to great heights and to pick oneself up, in the way one needs constructive criticism, advice and feedback, inspirational books or a pat on the back. No one needs pessimism, though I like to imagine the idea of a pessimist activism. No one needs pessimism, and yet everyone—without exception—has, at some point in their lives, had to confront pessimism, if not as a philosophy then as a grievance—against one’s self or others, against one’s surroundings or one’s life, against the state of things or the world in general. There is little redemption for pessimism, and no consolation prize. Ultimately, pessimism is weary of everything and of itself. Pessimism is the philosophical form of disenchantment—disenchantment as chanting, a chant, a mantra, a solitary, monophonic voice rendered insignificant by the intimate immensity surrounding it. In pessimism, the first axiom is a long, low, funereal sigh. ~*~ We’re Still Doomed. No one has time for pessimism. After all, there are only so many hours in a day. Whatever our temperament, happy or sad, engaged or disengaged, we know pessimism when we hear it. The pessimist is usually understood as the complainer, forever pointing out what is wrong with the world without ever once offering a solution. But more often than not pessimists are the quietest of philosophers, submerging their own sighs within the lethargy of discontent. What little sound it makes is of interest to no one—“I’ve heard it all before,” “tell me something I don’t know,” sound and fury, signifying nothing. In raising problems without solutions, in posing questions without answers, in retreating to the hermetic, cavernous abode of complaint, pessimism is guilty of that most inexcusable of Occidental crimes—the crime of not pretending it’s for real. Pessimism fails to live up to the most basic tenet of philosophy—the “as if.” Think as if it will be helpful, act as if it will make a difference, speak as if there is something to say, live as if you are not, in fact, being lived by some murmuring non-entity both shadowy and muddied. Had it more self-assurance and better social skills, pessimism would turn its disenchantment into a religion, possibly calling itself The Great Refusal. But there is a negation in pessimism that refuses even such a Refusal, an awareness that, from the start, it has already failed, and that the culmination of all that is, is that all is for naught. Pessimism tries very hard to present itself in the low, sustained tones of a Requiem Mass, or the tectonic rumbling of Tibetan chant. But it frequently lets loose dissonant notes at once plaintive and pathetic. Often, its voice cracks, its weighty words abruptly reduced to mere shards of guttural sound. ~*~ Maybe It’s Not So Bad, After All. If we know pessimism when we hear it, this is because we’ve heard it all before—and we didn’t need to hear it in the first place. Life is hard enough. What you need is a change of attitude, a new outlook, a shift in perspective... a cup of coffee. If we have no ears for pessimism, this is because it is always reducible to something as reliably mutable as a voice. If pessimism is so frequently disparaged, it is because it brings everyone down, determined as it is to view each day as a bad day, if only by virtue of the fact that it is not yet a bad day. For pessimism the world is brimming with negative possibility, the collision of a bad mood with an impassive world. In fact, pessimism is the result of a confusion between the world and a statement about the world, a confusion that also prevents it from fully entering the hallowed halls of philosophy. If pessimism is so often dismissed, this is because it is often impossible to separate a “bad mood” from a philosophical proposition (and do not all philosophies stem from a bad mood?) The very term “pessimism” suggests a school of thought, a movement, even a community. But pessimism always has a membership of one—maybe two. Ideally, of course, it would have a membership of none, with only a scribbled, illegible note left behind by someone long forgotten. But this seems unrealistic, though one can always hope. ~*~ Anatomy of Pessimism. Though it may locate itself at the margins of philosophy, pessimism is as much subject to philosophical analysis as any other form of thought. Pessimism’s lyricism of failure gives it the structure of music. What time is to the music of sorrow, reason is to a philosophy of the worst. Pessimism’s two major keys are moral and metaphysical pessimism, its subjective and objective poles, an attitude towards the world and a claim about the world. For moral pessimism, it is better not to have been born at all; for metaphysical pessimism, this is the worst of all possible worlds. For moral pessimism the problem is the solipsism of human beings, the world made in our own image, a world-for-us. For metaphysical pessimism, the problem is the solipsism of the world, objected and projected as a world-in-itself. Both moral and metaphysical pessimism are compromised philosophically; moral pessimism by its failure to locate the human within a larger context, and metaphysical pessimism by its failure to recognize the complicity in the very claim of realism. This is how pessimism makes its music of the worst, a generalized misanthropy without the anthropos . Pessimism crystallizes around this futility—it is its amor fati , rendered as musical form. ~*~ Melancholy of Anatomy. There is a logic of pessimism that is fundamental to its suspicion of philosophical system. Pessimism involves a statement about a condition . In pessimism each statement boils down to an affirmation or a negation, just as any condition boils down to the best or the worst. With Schopenhauer, that arch-pessimist, the thinker for whom the philosopher and the curmudgeon perfectly overlap, we see a no-saying to the worst, a no-saying that secretly covets a yes-saying (through asceticism, mysticism, quietism), even if this hidden yes-saying is a horizon at the limits of comprehension. With Nietzsche comes the pronouncement of a Dionysian pessimism, a pessimism of strength or joy, a yes-saying to the worst, a yes-saying to this world as it is. And with Cioran yet another variation, futile yet lyrical, a no-saying to the worst, and a further no-saying to the possibility of any other world, in here or out there. With Cioran one approaches, but never reaches, an absolute no-saying, a studied abandonment of pessimism itself. The logic of pessimism moves through three refusals: a no-saying to the worst (refusal of the world-for-us, or Schopenhauer’s tears); a yes-saying to the worst (refusal of the world-in-itself, or Nietzsche’s laughter); and a no-saying to the for-us and the in-itself (a double refusal, or Cioran’s sleep). Crying, laughing, sleeping—what other responses are adequate to a life that is so indifferent? ~*~ Cosmic Pessimism. Both moral and metaphysical pessimism point to another kind, a pessimism that is neither subjective nor objective, neither for-us nor in-itself, and instead a pessimism of the world-without-us. We could call this a cosmic pessimism ... but this sounds too majestic, too full of wonder, too much the bitter aftertaste of the Great Beyond. Words falter. And so do ideas. And so we have a cosmic pessimism, a pessimism that is first and last a pessimism about cosmos , about the necessity and possibility of order. The contours of cosmic pessimism are a drastic scaling-up or scaling-down of the human point of view, the unhuman orientation of deep space and deep time, and all of this shadowed by an impasse, a primordial insignificance, the impossibility of ever adequately accounting for one’s relationship to thought—all that remains of pessimism is the desiderata of affects—agonistic, impassive, defiant, reclusive, filled with sorrow and flailing at that architectonic chess match called philosophy, a flailing that pessimism tries to raise to the level of an art form (though what usually results is slapstick). ~*~ Song of Futility. An ethics of futility pervades pessimism. Futility, however, is different from fatality, and different again from simple failure (though failure is never simple). Failure is a breakage within the heart of relations, a fissure between cause and effect, a fissure hastily covered over by trying and trying again. With failure, there is always plenty of blame to go around; it’s not my fault, it’s a technical difficulty, it’s a miscommunication. For the pessimist, failure is a question of “when,” not “if”—failure as a metaphysical principle. Everything withers and passes into an obscurity blacker than night, everything from the melodramatic decline of a person’s life to the banal flickering moments that constitute each day. Everything that is done undone, everything said or known destined for a kind of stellar oblivion. When scaled up in this way, failure becomes fatality. Fatality is the hermeticism of cause and effect. In fatality, everything you do, whatever you do, always leads to a certain end, and ultimately to the end—though that end, or the means to that end, remain shrouded in obscurity. Nothing you do makes a difference because everything you do makes a difference. Hence the effects of your actions are hidden from you, even as you deceive yourself into thinking that, at last, this time you will outwit the order of things. By having a goal, planning ahead, and thinking things through carefully, we attempt, in a daily Prometheanism, to turn fatality to our advantage, to gain a glimpse of an order that seems buried deeper and deeper in the fabric of the universe. But even fatality has its comforts. The chain of cause and effect may be hidden from us, but that’s just because disorder is the order we don’t yet see; it’s just complex, distributed, and requires advanced mathematics. Fatality still clings to the sufficiency of everything that exists... When fatality relinquishes even this idea, it becomes futility. Futility arises out of the grim suspicion that, behind the shroud of causality we drape over the world, there is only the indifference of what exists or doesn’t exist; whatever you do ultimately leads to no end, an irrevocable chasm between thought and world. Futility transforms the act of thinking into a zero-sum game. ~*~ Song of the Worst. At the center of pessimism lies the term pessimus , “the worst,” a term as relative as it is absolute. The worst is about as bad as it gets, “the worst” as “the best” in disguise, shrouded by the passage of time or the twists and turns of fortune. For the pessimist, “the worst” is the propensity for suffering that gradually occludes each living moment, until it eclipses it entirely, overlapping perfectly in death... which, for the pessimist, is no longer “the worst.” Pessimism is marked by an unwillingness to move beyond “the worst,” something only partially attributable to a lack in motivation. In pessimism “the worst” is the ground that gives way beneath every existent—things could be worse, and , things could be better. “The worst” invariably implies a value judgment, one made based on scant evidence and little experience; in this way, pessimism’s greatest nemesis is its moral orientation. Pessimism’s propositions have all the gravitas of a bad joke. Perhaps this is why the true optimists are the most severe pessimists—they are optimists that have run out of options. They are almost ecstatically inundated by the worst. Such an optimism is the only possible outcome of a prolonged period of suffering, physical or metaphysical, intellectual or spiritual. But does this not also describe all the trials and tribulations of each day—in short, of “life?” It seems that sooner or later we are all doomed to become optimists of this sort (the most depressing of thoughts...) ~*~ Song of Doom. Rather than serving as a cause for despair, gloom and doom are the forms of consolation for any pessimist philosophy. Neither quite affects nor quite concepts, gloom and doom transform pessimism into a mortification of philosophy. Doom is not just the sense that all things will turn out badly, but that all things inevitably come to an end, irrespective of whether or not they really do come to an end. What emerges from doom is a sense of the unhuman as an attractor, a horizon towards which the human is fatally drawn. Doom is humanity given over to unhumanity in an act of crystalline self-abnegation. Gloom is not simply the anxiety that precedes doom. Gloom is literally atmospheric, climate as much as impression, and if people are also gloomy, this is simply the by-product of an anodyne atmosphere that only incidentally involves human beings. Gloom is more climatological than psychological, the stuff of dim, hazy, overcast skies, of ruins and overgrown tombs, of a misty, lethargic fog that moves with the same languorousness as our own crouched and sullen listening to a disinterested world. In a sense, gloom is the counterpoint to doom—what futility is to the former, fatality is to the latter. Doom is marked by temporality—all things precariously drawn to their end—whereas gloom is the austerity of stillness, all things sad, static, and suspended, a meandering smoke hovering over cold lichen stones and damp fir trees. If doom is the terror of temporality and death, then gloom is the horror of a hovering stasis that is life. At times I like to imagine that this realization alone is the thread that connects the charnel ground Aghori and the graveyard poets. ~*~ Song of Spite. There is an intolerance in pessimism that knows no bounds. In pessimism spite begins by fixing on a particular object of spite—someone one hardly knows, or someone one knows too well; a spite for this person or a spite for all of humanity; a spectacular or a banal spite; a spite for a noisy neighbor, a yapping dog, a battalion of strollers, the meandering idiot walking in front of you on their smart phone, large loud celebrations, traumatic injustices anywhere in the world regurgitated as media blitz, spite for the self-absorbed and overly performative people talking way too loud at the table next to you, technical difficulties and troubleshooting, the reduction of everything to branding, spite of the refusal to admit one’s own errors, of self-help books, of people who know absolutely everything and make sure to tell you, of all people, all living beings, all things, the world, the spiteful planet, the inanity of existence... Spite is the motor of pessimism because it is so egalitarian, so expansive, it runs amok, stumbling across intuitions that can only half-heartedly be called philosophical. Spite lacks the confidence and the clarity of hatred, but it also lacks the almost cordial judgment of dislike. For the pessimist, the smallest detail can be an indication of a metaphysical futility so vast and funereal that it eclipses pessimism itself—a spite that pessimism carefully places beyond the horizon of intelligibility, like the experience of dusk, or like the phrase, “it is raining jewels and daggers.” ~*~ Song of Sleep. A paraphrase of Schopenhauer: what death is for the organism, sleep is for the individual. Pessimists sleep not because they are depressed, but because for them sleep is a form of ascetic practice. Sleep is the askesis of pessimism. If, while sleeping, we have a bad dream, we abruptly wake up, and suddenly the horrors of the night vanish. There is no reason to think that the same does not happen with the bad dream we call “life.” ~*~ Song of Sorrow. Nietzsche, commenting on pessimism, once castigated Schopenhauer for taking things too lightly. He writes: ...Schopenhauer, though a pessimist, really —played the flute. Every day, after dinner: one should read his biography on that. And incidentally: a pessimist, one who denies God and the world but comes to a stop before morality—who affirms morality and plays the flute... what? Is that really—a pessimist? We know that Schopenhauer did possess a collection of instruments, and we also know that Nietzsche himself composed music. There is no reason to think that either of them would ever banish music from the Republic of philosophy. But Nietzsche’s jibes at Schopenhauer are as much about music as they are about pessimism. For the pessimist who says no to everything and yet finds comfort in music, the no-saying of pessimism can only be a weak way of saying yes—the weightiest statement undercut by the flightiest of replies. The least that Schopenhauer could’ve done is to play the bass. I’m not a big fan of the flute, or, for that matter, wind instruments generally. But what Nietzsche forgets is the role that the flute has historically played in Greek tragedy. In tragedy, the flute ( aulos ) is not an instrument of levity and joy, but of solitude and sorrow. The Greek aulos not only expresses the grief of tragic loss, but it does so in a way that renders weeping and singing inseparable from each other. The classicist Nicole Loraux calls this the mourning voice . Set apart from the more official civic rituals of funerary mourning, the mourning voice of Greek tragedy constantly threatens to dissolve song into wailing, music into moaning, and the voice into a primordial, disarticulate anti-music. The mourning voice delineates all the forms of suffering—tears, weeping, sobbing, wailing, moaning, and the convulsions of thought reduced to an elemental unintelligibility. In the collapsed space between the voice that speaks and the voice that sings, pessimism discovers its mourning voice. Pessimism: the failure of sound and sense, the disarticulation of phone and logos . Have we rescued Schopenhauer from Nietzsche? Probably not. Perhaps Schopenhauer played the flute to remind himself of the real function of the mourning voice—sorrow, sighs, and moaning rendered indistinguishable from music, the crumbling of the human into the unhuman. Failure par excellence of pessimism. ~*~ Song of Nothing. In Buddhist thought, the First Noble Truth of existence is encapsulated in the Pali term dukkha , conventionally translated as “suffering,” “sorrow,” or “misery.” The Buddhist teachings are clear, however, that this is an objective claim, and not simply one point of view among others. Existence is suffering and sorrow—and yet this is not, the teachings tell us, a pessimistic attitude. It is likely that Schopenhauer, reading the Buddhist texts available to him, recognized some filiation with the concept of dukkha . But dukkha is a multi-faceted term. There is, certainly, dukkha in the usual sense of the suffering, strife, and loss associated with living a life. But this is, in turn, dependent on the finitude and temporality of dukkha , existence as determined by impermanence and imperfection. And this ultimately points to the way in which both suffering and finitude are grounded by the paradoxical groundlessness of dukkha as a metaphysical principle—the insubstantiality and the emptiness of all that is. Beyond what is worse to me, beyond a world ordered for the worst, there is the emptiness of dukkha as an impersonal suffering... the tears of the cosmos. In this context, it is easy to see how Schopenhauer’s pessimism attempts to compress all the aspects of dukkha into a nothingness at the core of existence, a Willlessness coursing through the Will. Though one thing for certain is that with Schopenhauer we do not find the “ever-smiling” countenance of Buddhism—or do we? The texts of the Pali Canon also contain lists of the different types of happiness—including the happiness of renunciation and the strange happiness of detachment. But Buddhism considers even the different types of happiness as part of dukkha , in this final sense of nothingness or emptiness. Perhaps Schopenhauer understood Buddhism better than he is usually given credit for. Thus the experiment of Schopenhauer’s philosophy—the point at which a Western pessimus and an Eastern dukkha overlap or exchange glances. Empty sorrow, a lyricism of indifference. The result is a strange, and ultimately untenable, nocturnal form of Buddhism. ~*~ Cioran once called music a “physics of tears.” If this is true, then perhaps metaphysics is its commentary. Or its apology. ~*~ Pessimism would be more mystical were it not for its defeatism. Mysticism is much too proactive for the pessimist, and pessimism too impassive even for the mystic. At the same time, there is something enviable about mysticism—despite its sufferings. There is a sense in which pessimists are really failed mystics. ~*~ You, the Night, and the Music. In a suggestive passage, Schopenhauer once noted that, “music is the melody to which the world is the text." Given Schopenhauer’s view on life—that life is suffering, that human life is absurd, that the nothingness before my birth is equal to the nothingness after my death—given all this, one wonders what kind of music Schopenhauer had in mind when he described music as the melody to which the world is text—was it opera, a Requiem Mass, a madrigal, or perhaps a drinking song? Or something like Eine kleine Nachtmusik , a little night music for the twilight of thought, a sullen nocturne for the night-side of logic, an era of sad wings sung by a solitary banshee. Perhaps the music Schopenhauer had in mind is music eliminated to non-music. A whisper would suffice. Perhaps a sigh of fatigue or resignation, perhaps a moan of despair or sorrow. Perhaps a sound just articulate enough that it could be heard to dissipate. ~*~ Teach me to laugh through tears. ~*~ Pessimism always falls short of being philosophical. My back aches, my knees hurt, I couldn’t sleep last night, I’m stressed-out, and I think I’m finally coming down with something. Pessimism abjures all pretenses towards system—towards the purity of analysis and the dignity of critique. We didn’t really think we could figure it out, did we? It was just passing time, taking a piss, something to do, a bold gesture put forth in all its fragility, according to rules that we have agreed to forget that we made up in the first place. Every thought marked by a shadowy incomprehension that precedes it, and a futility that undermines it. That pessimism speaks, in whatever voice, is the singing testimony to this futility and this incomprehension—take a chance and step outside, lose some sleep and say you tried... ~*~ Is there a music of pessimism? And would such a music be audible? ~*~ The impact of music on a person compels them to put their experience into words. When this fails, the result is a faltering of thought and language that is itself a kind of music. Cioran writes: “Music is everything. God himself is nothing more than an acoustic hallucination.” ~*~ If a thinker like Schopenhauer has any redeeming qualities, it is that he identified the great lie of Western culture—the preference for existence over non-existence. As he notes: “If we knocked on the graves and asked the dead whether they would like to rise again, they would shake their heads.” In Western cultures it is commonly accepted that one celebrates birth and mourns death. But there must be a mistake here. Wouldn’t it make more sense to mourn birth and celebrate death? Strange though, because the mourning of birth would, presumably, last the entirety of that person’s life, so that mourning and living would the be same thing. ~*~ To the musical idea of the harmony of the universe corresponds the philosophical principle of sufficient reason. Like the music of mourning, pessimism gives voice to the inevitable breakdown of word and song. In this way, music is the overtone of thought. ~*~ The Patron Saints of Pessimism. The patron saints of pessimism watch over suffering. Laconic and sullen, the patron saints of pessimism never seem to do a good job at protecting, interceding, or advocating for those who suffer. Perhaps they need us more than we need them. Lest we forget, there do exist patron saints of philosophy, but their stories are not happy ones. There is, for instance, the fourth century Saint Catherine of Alexandria, or Catherine of the Wheel, named after the torture device used on her. A precocious fourteen year old scholar, Catherine was subject to continual persecution. After all forms of torture failed—including the “breaking wheel”—the emperor finally settled for her decapitation, a violent yet appropriate reminder of the protector of philosophers. There are also patron saints of music and musicians, but theirs too are sad stories. In the second century, Saint Cecilia was also subject to persecution and torture. As she knelt to receive the blade that would separate her head from her body, she ardently sang a song to God. It took three attempts before she was fully decapitated, all the while she continued, perhaps miraculously, to sing. Does pessimism not deserve its own patron saints, even if they are unworthy of martyrdom? But in our search, even the most ardent nay-sayers frequently lapse into brief moments of enthusiasm—Pascal’s love of solitude, Leopardi’s love of poetry, Schopenhauer’s love of music, Nietzsche’s love of Schopenhauer, and so on. Should one then focus on individual works of pessimism? We could include Kierkegaard’s trilogy of horror— Sickness Unto Death , The Concept of Dread , and Fear and Trembling —but all these are undermined by their fabricated and unreliable authors. Besides, how can one separate the pessimist from the optimist in works like Unamuno’s The Tragic Sense of Life , Shestov’s Postetas Clavium , or Edgar Saltus’ under-read The Philosophy of Disenchantment ? Even in cases where the entire corpus of an author is pessimistic, the project always seems incomplete—witness Cioran’s trajectory, from his first book, On the Heights of Despair , to the last unpublished notebooks of acrid and taut aphorisms. And this is to say nothing of literary pessimism, from Goethe’s sorrowful Werther, to Dostoevsky’s underground man, to Pessoa’s disquiet scribbler; Baudelaire’s spleen and ennui, the mystical Satanism of Huysmans and Strindberg, the hauntologies of Mário de Sá-Carniero, Izumi Kyoka, H.P. Lovecraft, grumpy old Beckett... even the great pessimist comedians. All that remains are singular, perhaps anomalous statements of pessimism, a litany of quotes and citations crammed into fortune cookies. Patron saints are traditionally named after a locale, either a place of birth or of a mystical experience. Perhaps the better approach is to focus on the places where pessimists were forced to live out their pessimism—Schopenhauer facing an empty Berlin lecture hall, Nietzsche mute and convalescent at the home of his sister, Wittgenstein the relinquished professor and solitary gardener, Cioran grappling with Alzheimer’s in his tiny writing alcove in the Latin Quarter. ~*~ There’s a ghost that grows inside of me, damaged in the making, and there’s a hunt sprung from necessity, elliptical and drowned. Where the moving quiet of our insomnia offers up each thought, there’s a luminous field of grey inertia, and obsidian dreams burnt all the way down. ~*~ If pessimism has any pedagogical value, it is that the failure of pessimism as a philosophy is inextricably tied to the failure of pessimism as voice. I read the following, from Shestov’s The Apotheosis of Groundlessness : When a person is young he writes because it seems to him he has discovered a new almighty truth which he must make haste to impart to forlorn humankind. Later, becoming more modest, he begins to doubt his truths: and then he tries to convince himself. A few more years go by, and he knows he was mistaken all round, so there is no need to convince himself. Nevertheless he continues to write, because he is not fit for any other work, and to be accounted a superfluous person is so horrible. (shrink)

A Karger 'Publishing Highlights 1890-2015' title This 2nd, revised edition is still the reference work available in print and electronically on Paracelsus by the Paracelsus authority. Furthermore, it makes a very good read. See also Pagel's last book The Smiling Spleen on Paracelsianism as a historical phenomenon. '...a work in the brilliant tradition of biographical research... even the casual reader will be impressed to learn that, four centuries ago, the man who had the courage to burn in public the (...) writings of Avicenna, recognised pulmonary disease in miners as an occupational hazard, cretinism and goitre as endemic in certain areas, and chorea and hysteria as manifestations of disease, not demonic possession.' The Lancet. (shrink)

The essay begins with the estrangement of the great lyrical poetry from the public since the middle of the 19th century. It is conceived in terms of an historical change in the structure of human experiencing.That is first demonstrated in Bergson. The autor interprets „Matière et Mémoire“ as the attempt to vindicate through the category of memory the possibility of genuine, that is, tradition-forming experience as against the mode of experience in the industrial age. Proust has more closely determined Bergson's (...) notion of memory as involuntary memory. Accordingly he seeks to reconstruct the aesthetic form of the narrative. Its industrial counterparts are information and sensation. Through shocks they threaten memory which B., in referring to psycho-analytical theories, conceives in terms of „protection against stimuli“.Erlebnis becomes the antithesis of experience (Erfahrung). In Baudelaire’s lyrical poetry the Erlebnis of shock occupies the center. In his portrayal of the fenser, Baudelaire identifies himself with the one who parries the shocks. These shocks occur when the individual is confronted with the amorphous multitude of the metropolis. In one chapter the author describes this clash and the shape it takes in Baudelaire's poetry. The subsequent chapter presents an analysis of Poe's „Man of the Crowd44, the city crowd portrayal which provides the clue for Baudelaire's and which is contrasted with the Biedermeier picture of Hoffmann's „Cousin's Corner Window“.The shock as the dominant form of Erlebnis is shown as grounded in the reified process of production in capitalist society. The discontinuity of the elements of shock has its basis in the discontinuity of the automatized process of labor which no longer admits of any „experience“, „practice“. The experience of shock of the member of a crowd corresponds to the experience of the worker who operates a machine. The reflectory mechanism of the victim of Modern Times appears in Baudelaire's work in the pattern of the hazard game which at the same time is the radical counterpart of „experience“.In Baudelaire, time is dissociated. Its power is absorbed by rare, „significant“ days. In them Baudelaire, through the „correspondances“4 seeks to save and restore the lost experience. The power of anamnesis is posited against the „swarm of seconds“. But the consolation of anamnesis remains impotent. In the dissociated shock moments of time, — the „spieen“ —, and the anamnesis of the vie antérieure, — the „idéal“ —, Baudelaire holds in his hands the débris of genuine experience.B. subordinates the representations constitutive of „experience“, that is, those of involuntary mefiiory, to his notion of „aura“. To experience the aura of a phenomenon means to endow it with the faculty of raising the eyes. The decay of aura is the foremost subject of Baudelaire : he summons eyes who have lost the faculty of raising themselves. He has designated the price for which the sensation of the Modern can be bought : the destruction of aura in shock experience.L'analyse débute par la constatation d'une scission entre la grande poésie lyrique et le public — scission qui se serait produite dès le milieu du xix® siècle. Cette séparation est interprétée comme la conséquence d'une transformation dans la structure même de l'expérience humaine.Cela est d'abord expliqué par l’oeuvre de Bergson. La théorie de la mémoire telle qu'elle a été développée dans Matière et mémoire se rattache à un type d'expérience qui, au cours du xixe siècle, a subi des atteintes profondes. Bergson tend, grâce à la catégorie de la mémoire, de restaurer le concept d'une expérience authentique. Cette expérience authentique existe en fonction de la tradition et s'oppose ainsi aux modes habituelles d'expérience propres à l'époque de la grande industrie. Proust a défini la mémoire bergsonienne comme une mémoire involontaire ; en son nom il avait essayé de reconstruire la forme de la narration. Le rival de cette dernière s'appelle, à l'époque de la grande industrie, l'information. Elle développe, par le moyen des chocs, une mémoire qui, par Proust, a été opposée à la mémoire bergsonienne sous le nom d'une mémoire volontaire. Il est permis de considérer, conformément à Freud, la mémoire volontaire comme étroitement liée à une conscience perpétuellement aux aguets. Plus la conscience sera obligée à parer aux chocs, plus se développera la mémoire volontaire, et plus périclitera la mémoire involontaire. L'expérience éminemment moderne du choc sera la norme de la poésie baudelairienne. Par l'image de l’escrimeur, Baudelaire qui, en flânant, était habitué d’être coudoyé par les foules des rues, s’identifie à l’homme qui pare aux chocs.Le choc en tant que forme prépondérante de la sensation se trouve accentué par le processus objectivisé et capitaliste du travail. La discontinuité des moments de choc trouve sa cause dans la discontinuité d’un travail devenu automatique, n’admettant plus l’expérience traditionnelle qui présidait au travail artisanal. Au choc éprouvé par celui qui flâne dans la foule correspond une expérience inédite : celle de l’ouvrier devant la machine.Le réflexe mécanisé de l’homme livré au monde moderne se traduit chez Baudelaire dans l’attitude du joueur. Pour l’homme qui s’est adonné au jeu, l’expérience du choc se présente en ce qu’elle a de plus essentiel* c’est-à-dire comme une façon d’éprouver le temps. Le spleenétique qui ne peut se dégager de la fascination exercée par le déroulement du temps vide est le frère jumeau du joueur. En face du Spleen, l’oeuvre baudelairienne évoque l’Idéal. L’Idéal, c’est la mémoire involontaire, initiatrice aux * correspondances ». Dépositaire des images d’une vie antérieure, l’Idéal serait le consolateur suprême s’il n’était tenu en échec par la « beauté moderne » qui est essentiellement spleenétique. Les souvenirs plus ou moins distincts dont est imprégnée chaque image qui surgit du fond de la mémoire involontaire peuvent être considérés comme son « aura ». Se saisir de l’aura d’une chose veut dire : l’investir du pouvoir de lever le regard. La déchéance de l’aura a des causes historiques dont l’invention de la photographie est comme un abrégé. Cette déchéance constitue le thème le plus personnel de Baudelaire. C’est elle qui donne la clé de ses poésies érotiques. Le poète invoque des yeux qui ont perdu le pouvoir du regard. Ainsi se trouve fixé le prix de la beauté et de l’expérience moderne : la destruction de l’aura par la sensation du choc. (shrink)

This study starts from the premise that mandala is a design of the Cosmos and consciousness. mandala is a contracted and systematically designed cosmic space and represents high-level spirituality at the same time. The work of designing mandala is an experience with a sacred world as itself and constitutes a process of self-discipline. In other words, mandala is to ritualize the world of Buddhism beyond a design context and visualize religious experience through a specific object. Therefore, it serves as a (...) medium that gets both producers and audiences to experience the sacred world. In this way, mandala is present as an experiencing design and a behaving medium. This study aims to identify the archetype of empirical and synthetic design by analyzing mandala as an integrated icon for which the Cosmos and human beings or consciousness and matter meet each other. Spatial structuralization is considered most important in the icon of mandala. The space in mandala is the place where consciousness joins reality, which represents the state of enlightenment. Many multi-dimensional Buddhas coexist in the space, and they are arranged in harmony and in order. This visual structure allows mandala to play the role of interactive medium. In the iconic shapes of mandala symbolizing a sacred world, major elements include a circle, square, semicircle, triangle and the numbers of 8 and 4. The respective shapes are matched to white, yellow, red and black, and the five different senses are connected to one another. The five senses are symbolic of earth, water, fire, wind and void which constitute the universe, and again they remain connected to five different parts of the body of a disciplinant drawing mandala: liver, kidney, spleen, lungs and heart. Those organs are associated with five Buddhas and in turn connected through the boundless space of the universe. By analyzing such a composite structure of mandala, this study tries to appreciate its in-depth meaning as an integrated design. (shrink)

The three books before us are consolingly conservative. They observe the pieties; they display an unusually acute sense of history; they try to find out what Plato said instead of being angry with him for neglecting to read J. S. Mill and Wittgenstein; and they say faithfully and sympathetically what can be said for him even when he tries them hard. This is true criticism: and it stands out sharply against the spleen of the "detractors," as Professor Levinson has (...) happily called them. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content: Three Odes HORACE (Translated by Charles Martin) To Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa No fears, Agrippa: your exploits will be Saluted by a bard who will eclipse Homer in singing your command of ships, Your winning use of cavalry. It won’t be us. Gifts far surpassing mine Are to be found in Varius, who sings Achilles’ spleen, Ulysses’ wanderings At sea, or Pelops’ nasty line. Of loftiness, we have (...) a deficit, And so our Muse forbids us to pursue Praising your glory and our Caesar’s too, Lest, overwrought, we lessen it. Varius is fit to sing of Mars arrayed In armor, of Meriones in dust, Or of those gods that Diomedes thrust His lance through, with Athena’s aid. Ours, the wine bar and the local fray, The bachelorettes whose nails leave livid traces We later notice on their boyfriends’ faces And lightly sing of, in our way. (Odes i.6) arion 28.3 winter 2021 74 threee odes To Leuconoe Stop seeking what the gods prohibit us from apprehending, Leuconoe—the date on which it all comes to an ending. Better to toss the Dream Book and accept whatever comes, Whether Jove sends more winters, or the last we’ll know now drums The Tuscan Sea into submission on opposing cliffs. Be wise—decant this evening’s wine, curtail your hopeful ifs: Live in the moment: as we speak, now is becoming then; And insofar as possible, ignore tomorrow’s, “When….” (Odes i.11) To Iccius Iccius, are you hot for Arabian Loot now, devising tactics to subjugate The previously undefeated Kings of Sabaea? Forging new fetters For the ferocious Medes while previsioning Your oriental sex-slave, unguarded by The boyfriend whom you’ve slain in battle? What perfumed page from some royal palace, Whose father taught him Sinoform archery, Will be your Ganymede? Oh, deny falling Rivers the right to scale steep mountains, Tell us the Tiber can’t flow back upstream, When you—who were once so very promising, Rush to exchange your Works of Panaetius AND those Platonic scrolls you scoured bookstalls in search of—for Spanish armor! (Odes i.29)... (shrink)

This paper demonstrates that L'Étranger , Camus's famous novel about an outsider, had by as early as 1946 become just as much of an 'insider' in terms of its affiliation to the Parisian literary tradition. More than an insider simply by virtue of its contemporary place in the French canon, then, the novel is also intertextually bound to a tradition of oxymoronic poetics dating back to Charles Baudelaire's Paris Spleen ( Les Petits poèmes en prose ). I shall examine (...) the way in which L'Étranger performs its prose poetics, thereby establishing it as exemplary of a Parisian model of modernity. Additionally, the famous scene on the beach will be considered as a liminal space and as a literary translation of Paris into the desert, which, once a joke for Paris's relationship to provincial France, became after the Second World War a new allegory for the capital's self-alterity. (shrink)

I. Levinas, Spinozism, Nietzsche and the body -- II. Prophetic speech in Levinas and Spinoza (and Maimonides) -- III. Levinas and Spinoza: to love God for nothing -- IV. Levinas and Spinoza: justice and the state -- V. Spinoza's Prince: for whom is the theological-political treatise written? VI. Levinas on Spinoza's misunderstanding of Judaism -- VII. Thinking least about death: mortality and morality in Spinoza, Heidegger and Levinas -- VIII. Spleen: Spinoza's babies, fools and madmen.

The ArgumentCell lines and other human-derived biological materials have since 1980 become valuable forms of patentable matter. This paper revisits the much-critiqued legal caseMoore v. Regents of the University of Cahfornia, in which John Moore claimed property rights in a patented cell line made from his spleen. Most work to date has critiqued the text of the decision and left the relevant scientific and technical literature unexamined. By mapping out the construction of discontinuity and continuity between human body and (...) cell line in this literature, this paper provides a novel critique of the Moore case regarding the source and mobilization of scientific information in the decision. At the same time, the elisions of the case are used to move to a larger set of questions. Comparative material from the history of the first widely used cell line, HeLa, and a discussion of the relation of the scientific and economic value of cell lines, are aimed at analysis of how new objects such as patented human cell lines come into existence through science and law, and what kinds of definitions and practices make them valued objects of contention in the first place. (shrink)

Reorganization of cell organelle‐deprived host red blood cells by the apicomplexan malaria parasite Plasmodium falciparum enables their cytoadherence to endothelial cells that line the microvasculature. This increases the time red blood cells infected with mature developmental stages remain within selected organs such as the brain to avoid the spleen passage, which can lead to severe complications and cumulate in patient death. The Maurer's clefts are a novel secretory organelle of parasite origin established by the parasite in the cytoplasm of (...) the host red blood cell in order to facilitate the establishment of cytoadherence by conducting the trafficking of immunovariant adhesins to the host cell surface. Another important function of the organelle is the sorting of other proteins the parasite traffics into its host cell. Although the organelle is of high importance for the pathology of malaria, additional putative functions, structure, and genesis remain shrouded in mystery more than a century after its discovery. In this review, we highlight our current knowledge about the Maurer's clefts and other novel secretory organelles established within the host cell cytoplasm by human‐pathogenic malaria parasites and other parasites that reside within human red blood cells. (shrink)

O artigo examina a interpretação feita por Walter Benjamin dos poemas de Charles Baudelaire marcados pela noção de ideal, a qual se opõe ao spleen. Benjamin encontra aí o esforço de rememoração de uma experiência plena, a qual constituiria, por sua vez, um elemento essencial à compreensão da modernidade como impossibilidade desta forma de experiência. Com as noções de beleza e de aura, o artigo busca ainda salientar a importância da categoria da distância para a configuração desta forma de (...) experiência. (shrink)

By the time Baudelaire starts his work-in-progress prose-poems project, the Petits Poëmes en prose, also known as Le spleen de Paris,1 the poor, a recurrent protagonist of these short narratives, have already achieved a successful literary career of three decades. This evolution has mainly taken place in the rising genre of the novel, which, from the 1830s onward, interacts with an emerging mass public, whether one thinks of Dickens' Oliver Twist; or, the Parish Boy's Progress, the Newgate novels, Eugène (...) Sue's likewise widely popular Les mystères de Paris, George Sand's La mare au Diable or Francois le Champi. At that time, Hugo's masterpiece, Les... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Diagnostic WannabesJennifer Radden, PhD (bio)Saunders explores challenges for the clinician faced with self-styled sufferers from attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, bipolar disorder, autism spectrum disorder (ASD), and fibromyalgia. The diagnostic system was not meant to be used as “a scaffold for identity,” she points out. Yet wannabe patients now step into the clinic wielding self-proclaimed diagnoses as social identities. Saunders explains the context where such phenomena arise, (...) and offers guidelines for clinicians addressing this new reality. To do so, she enlists Rashed’s innovative normative approach to the so-called boundary problem of assigning, and providing justification for, the contested line between normal and disordered. The boundary problem itself seems to rise to prominence during our current era of increasingly dimensional thinking, it is worth noting, with psychiatric diagnoses taken to refer to points on a continuum, rather than to discrete categorical disease entities.On the likely sources of these ‘diagnostic’ social identities, as well as reasons why certain diagnoses attach to them more commonly than others, Saunders points to social trends (including what she asserts to be a “post-stigma” cultural environment), the failure of efforts to identify neurobiological markers for psychiatric disorder, the ubiquity of social media, the algorithms themselves, and the hyperconnected existence of contemporary times. Such narratives also offer the comforts of a sense of belonging and explanations for perceived inadequacies, she rightly observes.Despite today’s virtual and other inducements, the problem introduced here is not an entirely new one. The first part of the seventeenth century in Europe saw an apparent “epidemic” of what was known as “melancholy,” a condition associated with the spleen, whose symptoms loosely resembled those of today’s depression and anxiety. Much of this suffering was undeniably real, but much was a fashionable, identity-conferring pose. “Every distemper of the body now is complicated with spleen,” the poet John Donne ironically observes in a letter dated 1622, “and when we were young men we scarce ever heard of the spleen. In our declinations now, every accident is accompanied with heavy clouds of melancholy”1 (Gosse, 2019). By then, the Melancholic Man (or homo melancholicus), with his surfeit of spleen, was an unmistakable character type—or social identity, as we would now say. Recognized and saluted in centuries-long literary and illustrative traditions, the type was an anchoring element of the humoral medicine which, despite the gradual emergence of more empirical science, had endured since Galenic times.Melancholy’s closest descendants, affective depressive and anxiety disorders, are today less evident among the troubling identities Saunders discusses—somewhat preempted, she points out, by more cognitively-based diagnoses such as ASD. [End Page 279] This is itself an ironic reminder of the vagaries of cultural attitudes, cautioning us to remember the broader context where these particular social identities are selected for emulation and adoption.The lure of the melancholy man’s2 social identity is well understood: already normalized, within the humoral system in which excess black bile afflicted roughly one in four people, it had been valorized for centuries—arguably by Aristotelian writing (in the dubious ‘Problems’), during the Renaissance by Ficino, and Shakespeare—even by Freud in his 1916 ‘Mourning and Melancholia.’ Through most of Western history, the positive attributes and benefits of the dark moods of melancholy have needed no further explaining or justifying. They glow with glamorous associations.Applying Rashed’s conditions for appropriately acknowledging and recognizing the fit of a person’s chosen social identity, Saunders‘ guidance for clinicians clarifies boundary matters. And it illustrates how to understand, regulate and communicate the appropriate norms in ways that can dissuade those whose personal growth and mental health are not served by claiming such identities.With at least some of the popular social identities Saunders describes, I think we can helpfully continue the comparison with the homo melancholicus. For the ‘neurodiversity’ rhetoric of our own times contains forces promoting both the normalization and the valorization of syndromes such as ASD. Pointing to analogies with differences of gender, ethnicity and culture, neurodiversity theorizing argues for a respect for, and appreciation of, difference. Mental or cognitive variations are equally natural and valuable, it is... (shrink)

At several places in this paper we have made use of a well-known rhetorical device: an argument was made; a character —dubbed “fictional reader” — was then evoked who voiced some objections against that particular argument; and finally, we answered those objections, thus bringing to a close, at least temporarily, our argument. The use of this device raises a question: “How is the presence of the ‘fictional reader” to be understood?” Is it a “mere” rhetorical tool, or does this character (...) designate some particular target? For instance, depending on the context, it could be seen as aimed at different straw men: traditionally minded sociologists, Whiggish historians, well-intentioned philosophers of science. Actually, none of these characters is behind the “fictional reader”. Rather, it refers, potentially, to any of the scientific actors (Milstein, Schwaber, Koprowski, Cohn, and so on) who inhabit our set of narratives. In other words, the “fictional reader” is an icon for the “native” reader/writer who simultaneously produces and questions the products of that particular literary activity known as scientific texts, by explicitly and implicitly raising the issue of the distinction between fact and technique.By following actors in their disputes about the novelty of K & M's contribution, it became apparent that it is not exactly clear which of the different elements of “hybridoma technology” should be regarded as “novel.” Was it the use of the P3 myeloma line? Was it the theoretical framework related to the notion of allelic exclusion? Was it ...? In each and every case, arguments can be made for or against the existence of a certain continuity or discontinuity with previous work. And in each case, the determination of novelty, as translated through the continuity/discontinuity issue, appeared to be hanging on the previous attribution of an epistemological status to the object that had allegedly been discovered: was it a fact or a technique?If one focuses on the relatively narrow network of immunogenetics, it could be argued that within that particular evidential context a series of “facts” had been established which, when transferred to other fields, such as the virological research being pursued in Koprowski's institute, were translated into a technique. However, as we have seen, even from an immunogenetic point of view the production of monoclonal antibodies can be viewed as being simultaneously a fact and a technique to establish that fact. Not only, as he himself noted,139 was Milstein not seeking to develop a technique for the production of monoclonal antibodies when the original experiments were carried out, but the significance later imputed to those experiments was not immediately attributed to them. The paper was seen as one among other papers that used cell fusion techniques to dissect the genetic control of antibody diversity. Distinctions that now appear crucial (e.g.: were the fusion partners two myelomas or a myeloma and a spleen cell?) were easily overlooked. At some point, around 1977, the production of monoclonal antibodies became a goal in itself, no longer linked to the initial immunogenetic network. The transformation of [MILSTEIN 75] into the foundational event of “hybridoma technology” was thus achieved. This transformation did not flow naturally from the original experiments. Rather, it involved specific investments which mobilized the activity of a large number of other scientific and industrial actors.140A tentative generalization can be deduced from our case study. The dichotomy between fact and technique that underlines much of contemporary science studies seem to be fundamentally misconceived, insofar as the determination of what counts as a fact and what counts as a technique is not possible on a priori grounds. Historians and sociologists of science are confronted with a field of heterogeneous interventions where particular pieces of work are constituted as discrete entities and simultaneously attributed a technical or a factual identity. “Novelty” and “innovation” are precisely the result of such polymorphic attributional processes. (shrink)

On Anatomy is the shortest treatise preserved in the Hippocratic Corpus. It describes the internal configuration of the human trunk. The account is for the most part descriptive, function being largely disregarded and speculation completely eschewed. Though systematic it is unsophisticated: two orifices for ingestion are linked by miscellaneous organs, vessels, and viscera to two orifices for evacuation. There is a clear progression in two parallel sections: first, trachea to lung, lung described, location of heart, heart described, kidneys to bladder, (...) bladder described, bladder to genitals, conclusion; and second, oesophagus to belly, location of diaphragm, location of spleen, location and description of belly, belly to intestine/colon, colon to rectum and anus, conclusion. The text offers good basic topographical or regional anatomy. That the work is concerned with human anatomy is certain from the precise description of lung and liver, with features peculiar to human organs; and is corroborated by frequent references to comparative anatomy, with which familiarity is apparently assumed. Such anatomical knowledge, based on extensive observation of animals, may have been corroborated by some human dissection, perhaps of the aborted foetus or exposed infant, in conjunction with opportunistic observation of war wounded and accident victims. While the syntax is bald, telegraphic, and asyndetic, the vocabulary is recondite, and poetic. There is erratic omission of the article and recurrent use of compendious comparisons. These features suggest that Anat. may be an abridgement of a fuller and more flowery account; this hypothesis is supported by several passages where erroneous or unclear information apparently results from excessive compression or imperfect comprehension of a source. (shrink)

Islamic polities of the classical period recognized the importance of seaweeds in their daily life. Their men of science, craftsmen, and navigators used them for medicinal purposes, manufacturing, and navigation. The agar components were used in treating pathological conditions such jaundice, spleen, kidney and skin ailments, and malignancies. As food, we stress that our conclusions derive from Qur'ān-based commentaries and Muslim religious law that encouraged seafaring and exploiting the resources of the sea. Concerning navigation, sailors could identify coastal trunk (...) routes, shallows, and various marine phenomena; shipwrights used agar compounds as a protective coating against the Greek Fire. Like their Greco-Roman counterparts, Muslim physicians, chemists, botanists, and professional sailors of this period were acquainted with numerous species of seaweeds and could appreciate the actual scientific importance of each type as well as the aquatic environment where these species lived and developed. Their scholarly literature consists of several generic Arabic and Arabicized terms to denote seaweeds and the terms variations appeared to be physical rather than linguistic. (shrink)

This chapter contains sections titled: The Role of the Law Autonomy and Property Early Cases on Microorganisms and Animals: The Slope toward Human Patents Patenting Animals Renting Your Spleen? The Move to Human Gene Patents Patenting Diseases Catalona and Beyond What's so Strange about the Law of Bodies and Tissues? The Law of Personal Identity Reconciling the Law with Reality.

Cover -- Copyright -- Dedication -- Contents -- Acknowledgments -- Introduction -- Chapter One: Writing against Theodicy: Secularization in Baudelaire's Poetry and Critical Essays -- Chapter Two: The Mourning of God and the Ironies of Secularization in Baudelaire's Le Spleen de Paris -- Chapter Three: Sublimation and Conversion in Zola and Huysmans -- Chapter Four: The Staging of Doubt: Zola and Huysmans on Lourdes -- Chapter Five: Religious and Secular Conversions: Transformations in Céline's Medical Perspective on Evil -- Conclusion (...) -- Notes -- Bibliography -- Index -- About the Book. (shrink)

The paper proposes a focus upon the notion of “aura” as it emerges from the work of Baudelaire. In particular, the paper shows how the relevance of such a work lies precisely in its capacity to critically interrogate the relationship between art, aura and modernity: in its capacity to exhibit exemplary, on the one hand, the irremediable decline of aura understood as “uniqueness” and “originality” of the artwork (therefore, the aura as expression of a sense given once and for all) (...) and, on the other hand, the possible survival of an aura conceived rather as appearance of an inaccessible “distance”, and then of an irreducible otherness. From this point of view, in staging a short-circuit between spleen and idéal, i.e between “myth” and “hope”, the Baudelairian artistic form offers itself to us as an expression of authentic “auratisation of the datum”. (shrink)

The paper proposes a focus upon the notion of “aura” as it emerges from the work of Baudelaire. In particular, the paper shows how the relevance of such a work lies precisely in its capacity to critically interrogate the relationship between art, aura and modernity: in its capacity to exhibit exemplary, on the one hand, the irremediable decline of aura understood as “uniqueness” and “originality” of the artwork (therefore, the aura as expression of a sense given once and for all) (...) and, on the other hand, the possible survival of an aura conceived rather as appearance of an inaccessible “distance”, and then of an irreducible otherness. From this point of view, in staging a short-circuit between spleen and idéal, i.e between “myth” and “hope”, the Baudelairian artistic form offers itself to us as an expression of authentic “auratisation of the datum”. (shrink)