tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21165575.post8982269203088458888..comments2024-03-10T20:46:19.274-04:00Comments on In the Middle: Three Quotes for the HolidayCord J. Whitakerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06224143153295429986noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21165575.post-42806733174381463062007-05-30T10:22:00.000-04:002007-05-30T10:22:00.000-04:00Perhaps Karl's quotes already answer Michael's que...Perhaps Karl's quotes already answer Michael's questions. (How's that for a humanist assumption?) At least they are bound together by the question of how far and to what levels personhood extends into the world and the relationship between micro/macro levels of personhood and human violence: the human God that humans kill but cannot live without (<I>because</I> they cannot?); the inhuman God whose withdrawn demand for human sacrifice creates inhumane man (out of resentment of the demand?); and the solution, recognizing that the Other lacks itself (and thus has to create worlds?). <BR/><BR/>Is the extension of personhood to the All, not as identity but as identity's creative/destructive impossibility, the impossibility of <I>who</I>, therefore a way out of violence? Is this a way past the destructiveness of the narrower definition of the world's personhood as <I>history</I>, an unfinishable script whose sacrificial "making" is imagined to please some unknowable omniscience beyond it?Nicola Masciandarohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01279665722551517693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21165575.post-29973364711977196632007-05-28T19:36:00.000-04:002007-05-28T19:36:00.000-04:00Is interpersonal and societal violence all a resul...<I><B>Is</B> interpersonal and societal violence all a result of individual wounding?</I><BR/><BR/>Good question. I'm inclined to reply no to any question that tries to slip an 'all' by me. Also depends on what you mean by an individual.<BR/><BR/>In other words: no answer yet.Karl Steelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03353370018006849747noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21165575.post-14806164836353222692007-05-28T18:17:00.000-04:002007-05-28T18:17:00.000-04:00Well, yeah, except, pace Owen, he either spared Is...Well, yeah, except, <I>pace</I> Owen, he either spared Isaac OR Ishmael (there's also that lovely problem of Europe there) and slew the ram. Oh, well - what's a little inaccuracy between poets? Harold Bloom, I hear you calling my name....<BR/><BR/>On another issue, I wonder why humanists are especially convinced by the microcosm/macrocosm kind of arguments psychological approaches to Peace present? I spent this spring talking about the issue with a colleague who is teaching a Peace Studies seminar (she comes out of a social psychology background). <B>Is</B> interpersonal and societal violence all a result of individual wounding? The physicists no longer believe that atoms are little solar systems - I wonder why we so readily believe that societies are reeeely big people?<BR/><BR/>I'm not sure that the world doesn't work that way - I find Ptolemy's universe pretty easy to explain - but it made for interesting discussion. My colleague had never heard herself called an Aristotelian materialist before.TheCrankyProfessorhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15044204782286107779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21165575.post-58704907078319171452007-05-28T14:44:00.000-04:002007-05-28T14:44:00.000-04:00Thanks, Karl, and ADM: powerful stuff.Thanks, Karl, and ADM: powerful stuff.Jeffrey Cohenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17346504393740520542noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21165575.post-12217404419282680702007-05-28T13:06:00.000-04:002007-05-28T13:06:00.000-04:00And one for you:The door it opened slowly,my fathe...And one for you:<BR/><I>The door it opened slowly,<BR/>my father he came in,was nine years old.<BR/>And he stood so tall above me,<BR/>his blue eyes they were shining<BR/>and his voice was very cold.<BR/>He said, "I've had a vision<BR/>and you know I'm strong and holy,<BR/>I must do what I've been told."<BR/>So he started up the mountain,<BR/>I was running, he was walking,<BR/>and his axe was made of gold.<BR/><BR/>Well, the trees they got much smaller,<BR/>the lake a lady's mirror,<BR/>we stopped to drink some wine.<BR/>Then he threw the bottle over.<BR/>Broke a minute later<BR/>and he put his hand on mine.<BR/>Thought I saw an eagle<BR/>but it might have been a vulture,<BR/>I never could decide.<BR/>Then my father built an altar,<BR/>he looked once behind his shoulder,<BR/>he knew I would not hide.<BR/><BR/>You who build these altars now<BR/>to sacrifice these children,<BR/>you must not do it anymore.<BR/>A scheme is not a vision<BR/>and you never have been tempted<BR/>by a demon or a god.<BR/>You who stand above them now,<BR/>your hatchets blunt and bloody,<BR/>you were not there before,<BR/>when I lay upon a mountain<BR/>and my father's hand was trembling<BR/>with the beauty of the word.<BR/><BR/>And if you call me brother now,<BR/>forgive me if I inquire,<BR/>"Just according to whose plan?"<BR/>When it all comes down to dust<BR/>I will kill you if I must,<BR/>I will help you if I can.<BR/>When it all comes down to dust<BR/>I will help you if I must,<BR/>I will kill you if I can.<BR/>And mercy on our uniform,<BR/>man of peace or man of war,<BR/>the peacock spreads his fan.</I><BR/><BR/><B>The Story of Isaac</B> -- L. CohenAnother Damned Medievalisthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05231085915472400163noreply@blogger.com