162 Matching Annotations
  1. Sep 2022
    1. Maria Kozhevnikov, a neuroscientist at the National University of Singapore and Massachusetts General Hospital

      !- reference : Maria Kozhevnikov - neuroscientist at National University of Singapore, Massachusetts General Hospital - Nangchen tow, Amdo region of Tibet - testing if g-tummo vase breathing technique could raise core body temperature. One monk raised body temp to that normally associated with a fever - published results in PLOS One

    2. Can You Warm Yourself with Your Mind?The human body generates its own heat. Some people can adjust the thermostat.

      !- for : mind-body relationship

    1. eopardizes one's love life

      Sadly I remember seeing this one statistic where men are more likely to leave women when they have cancer (or breast cancer specifically).

    2. if not literally, contagious.

      Throughout history this type of behavior against diseases like with cancer has been evident. One of good example's of this would be AIDS's epidemic in 1980's where people effected with the disease where ostrasized and outcasted. Other people feared that they may catch the disease by simply being near the effected persons. Despite it not being the case. Because the majority of infected people happened to be LGBTQ+ huge amount of homophobia insued.

    3. metaphoric thinking.

      In addition to my previous annotation, one can interpret this as the authors goal is to through her work make people more comfortable with the idea of death. And accept death and illness as a natural part of life.

    4. metaphoric thinking

      I assume it means to not invalidate the experiencess of people struggling with the illness. To not take her words as a simple metaphor but how the patients actually feel and experience.

    5. a surpris-ingly large number of people with cancer find them-selves being shunned by relatives and friends and arethe object of practices of decontamination by mem-bers of their household, as if cancer, like TB, were aninfectious disease

      My only thought about this behaviour could be because people believe what they hear/see from the media, random sites and not actual legitimate facts, scientific articles etc., that prove otherwise. They haven't taken the time to look at all the facts they are given to them and form an opinion of their own and prefer believing everyone else.

    6. myths

      IT COMES WITH ANYTHING HUMANITY CANNOT DEAL WITH OR EXPLAIN

    7. cancer =death.

      Τoday the equation has changed, cancer in specific parts of the body equals death.

    8. the poor and the rich bothget TB and cancer;

      a proof that illness is something that just happens regardless of social distinctions

    9. in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of thesick

      Discrimination which later create the belief tha necessarily will be part in the kingdom of sick

    10. the night-side of life

      Many times situations that we face like an illness lead us to a brighter side of life cause through the procedure we acquire wisdom and knowledge

    11. doctors consider that the truthwill be intolerable to all but exceptionally mature andintelligent patients.

      intelligence does not change the way people react when learning that they suffer from a lethal disease, both of these patients can feel fear and can understand their situation if educated accordingly by doctors. I believe that by refusing to speak about taboo topics in general, only reinforces the stigma

    12. As long as a particular disease is treated asan evil, invincible predator, not just a disease, mostpeople with cancer will indeed be demoralized bylearning what disease they have

      Similarly, this prejudice also affects people who suffer from mental disorders, such as depression, schizophrenia, or addictions to substances, and are frowned upon by modern societies. As a result, many of them avoid acknowledging their symptoms, in fear of being stigmatised.

    13. find them-selves being shunned by relatives and friends and arethe object of practices of decontamination by mem-bers of their household, as if cancer, like TB, were aninfectious disease

      Possibly due to lack of education, or misinformation about illnesses like cancer, people tend to rely on their instinctive fear of something that they cannot control

    14. . For as long as itscause was not understood and the ministrations ofdoctors remained so ineffective, TB was thought to bean insidious, implacable theft of a life. Now it is can-cer's turn to be the disease that doesn't knock before itenters, cancer that fills the role of an illness experi-enced as a ruthless, secret invasion—a role it will keepuntil, one day, its etiology becomes as clear and itstreatment as effective as those of TB have become

      here we can see that even though medicine has advanced since TB, and continues advancing in a rapid pace, humanity has to face new challenges and evolve

    15. sooner or later each of us is obliged, at least for aspell, to identify ourselves as citizens of that otherplace.

      illnesses in some way connect us humans with one another around the world, reminding us that we are all equally vulnerable when it comes to life and death situations

    1. ‘He was by a neighbour found,‘With his sieull all smashed to peices,He did lay upon the ground5O’ then what news was for his som,‘To hear his father Was no more,: ‘To think by raffians he was murdered,& At the oge of sixty-four.|

      Detailed how he was found

  2. Aug 2022
    1. Citation: Kirkpatrick, Keith. The Road to 6G. Communications of the ACM, September 2022, Vol. 65 No. 9, Pages 14-16 10.1145/3546959

      Although it is early in the commercial rollout of 5G mobile networks, countries, companies and standards bodies are gearing up for what will be in the next version—so called “6G” mobile network. There are already experimental allocation of high frequency radio bands and testing that has occurred at about 100m distances. The high frequency will mean higher bandwidth, but over shorter distances. There are experiments to make passive graphene reflectors on common surfaces to help with propagation. What may come is a convergence of 6G with WiFi 6 to support connectivity from body-area networks to low earth orbit satellites.

  3. Jul 2022
    1. If this notion of human existence as a unity of participation in both perishing and non-perishing reality sounds odd to modern ears, it is mainly because philosophical and scientific–and consequently popular–thought during the last few centuries has been busy constructing a very different image of the human person. The image of participation has been changed and simplified into an image of two entities: a body, and a mind inside the body that has intelligence and ideas. This is the image that eventually came out of Descartes and Hobbes and other early modem thinkers, and wound up as a portrayal of human beings as mental entities encased in physical entities: a mind-thing imprisoned in a body–thing. Now a mind-thing imprisoned in a body-thing cannot experience participation in the ground of reality. Why not? Because it is imprisoned, isolated in the head. It can only have ideas about it and “project” them out onto reality. What becomes, then of the non-perishing dimension of meaning? Accepting the modem image, we could have faith that we have a relation to non-perishing reality only through first conceiving of a non-perishing reality–let us call it “God”–in the isolation of our bodily-encased minds, and then projecting that conception onto a “beyond” of things, and finally engaging in the desperate procedure of believing that it is real and that we have a connection with it in spite of not knowing anything of the kind. In other words, as long as self-understanding is dominated by this modem image, human consciousness cannot make sense of its own experience of immediate participation in a non-perishing ground of reality. And therefore, it cannot really make sense of its moral striving–since what is the point of the struggle for goodness if goodness is nothing more than temporary private opinion? Thus the modem image of human nature short-circuits the Socratic and Kierkegaardian understanding of existence, and leaves us with the familiar contemporary mess of radical moral relativism. This modern image of human existence is tenacious, though–partly because it is so closely connected to the modem view of what real knowing is, a view that enjoys an almost unassailable status. It might be summarized with extreme brevity as follows. If the mind is a thing encased in the physical body that only knows reality through the mediation, through the channeling, of the physical senses, any valid knowing has to validate itself through the presence of the relevant sense data. And this means that all true knowing is the type of knowing involved in the natural sciences, where empirical verification must take place through quantifiable data. Data that cannot be mathematically measured, such as the data consciousness discovers in its own activity and awareness–for example moral insight–can never be a matter of knowing, merely of opinion. How could the Socratic experience of discovering that the moral autonomy of the soul involves a non-perishing dimension of meaning ever be verified, if the data of sense, quantifiable data, are the only relevant data for affirming truth? The life of Socrates–an exemplary model for over two millennia of the moral liberation of the soul through the catharsis of practicing death–is, in this view, a life based on nothing more substantial than a private irrational belief. So to sum up: what has happened is that the enthronement by modem philosophy and science of an image of human nature as a thingly mind entrapped in a thingly body, has made all symbolizations of a non-perishing dimension of reality non-credible to many people–particularly to the intelligentsia, who emphasize their modem credentials by presenting themselves as the cultured despisers of religion. And, of course, one of the reasons why this modem image is so popular and so resistant to critique is what it appears to promise. If we go back to the founding texts of modernity, to the writings of Descartes, of Bacon, of Hobbes, we find a great optimism. If there is no participation in a mysterious origin of non-perishing meaning, there is no mystery essential to human existence. If there is no such participation, then all knowledge originates only in human consciousness itself. And if there is no primal mystery, and if all meaning is of human creation, we can hope one day to bring nature, human society, and history fully under human control. In his last book, Escape from Evil, Becker wrote: “Hubris means forgetting where the real source of power lies and imagining that it is in oneself (37).” I would suggest that imagining that notions of a non-perishing dimension of meaning are the pure creations of an isolated human consciousness, entails a forgetting of where the real source of consciousness lies: in the experienced mysterious ground of consciousness, which grants us the quite rational opportunity of a free and loving commitment to an enduring dimension of meaning. Of course, in some sense, human awareness of the non-perishing mystery in which it participates remains alive and well, because people keep striving to be moral, and they keep asking questions about that experience. Human questioning will always keep uncovering the eternal dimension of meaning, keep introducing people to the Socratic catharsis, and keep leading people to what Becker called a life of courageous self-realization. But they can be helped to do so by promoting insights like those of Becker on the choice between denying death or facing up to mortality. Like Becker in his chapter on Kierkegaard in The Denial Of Death, what I’ve tried to show is that the problem does not lie in the notion of human participation in imperishable reality. Rather, where the problem lies is in the self-comforting delusion that one possesses eternal meaning, and especially in the measures people take to defend their feeling of righteous invulnerability, especially through aggression. Authentic faith, by contrast, affirms enduring meaning in the context of an open if anxious acceptance of mortality. And so one must conclude that there are two opposites to authentic faith. One is the dogmatic clinging to an immortality project; and the other is the equally dogmatic insistence that enduring meaning is an illusion. Both of these are denials of our real human situation, making up two sides of the same counterfeit coin.

      The essay closes with a critique of the subject / object mind / body framework that now dominates modernity. Socrates, Kierkigaard and Becker's claims, when seen through the lens of Cartesian modernity, are relegated to the margins. materialism denies any legitimacy to such claims. Recent 4E cognition is an attempt to push back on this. Hughes notes that:

      "In his last book, Escape from Evil, Becker wrote: “Hubris means forgetting where the real source of power lies and imagining that it is in oneself (37).” "

    1. the task of biology consists in expanding in two directions the results of cancer investigations by considering the part played by our body and especially by our sense organs 00:04:47 and central nervous system you can see the basic parameters of what we now call cognitive science are coming into being here and by studying the relation of other subjects to objects 00:04:59 it's the subject that kant wants to take seriously that notion is still very undefined and notice here the term animal other subjects so the 00:05:10 animal is a subject here he's trying to take a stance that is not that doesn't traffic in human exceptionalism that takes the embodied being seriously and for him that means something that's 00:05:23 straightforwardly an animal a dog a cat a scientist a limpet and he's going to consider them all with much the same theoretical vocabulary he's pitching in here in 1926

      Uexkull expands Kant's agenda and takes it in the direction of the body, and especially the animal body as playing a major role in knowing about the world. He downplays human exceptionalism by referring to the animal body, not the human body.

    1. Or if I’m jogging, I associate each thing I want to remember with one of my limbs, then I go through them one at a time “left arm, left leg…” when I’m done running and I write them down.

      Example of someone in the wild using their body as a locus for attaching memories temporarily so that they can recall ideas for making note of later.

    1. Findings indicate a continual decline in the size of game hunted by humans as their main food source -- from giant elephants 1-1.5 million years ago down to gazelles 10,000 years ago. According to the researchers, these findings paint an illuminating picture of the interaction between humans and the animals around them over the last 1.5 million years.

      1.5 million years trend of fauna of decreasing body mass in the Southern Levant - from giant elephants to gazelles.

    1. The Southern Levant, situated between modern day southern Syria via Israel to Sinai, has a spatiotemporally dense and continuous Paleolithic archaeological record offering a unique opportunity to detect faunal changes, including those predating the appearance of Homo sapiens (Bar-Yosef, 1980; Stutz, 2014). It is thus a suitable model to test long-term changes in the body mass of mammalian assemblages, in view of paleoclimates and changing human lineages, to decipher whether climate and/or humans are responsible for animal body size declines. The excellent archaeological record can further illuminate whether size declines are observed since hominins first colonized the region, or whether they start with the emergence of Homo sapiens (Louys et al., 2021), or are concentrated in the last glacial and its aftermath. We tested whether the size, and size changes, in hominin prey through the Pleistocene and early Holocene were related to time, the prevailing human lineages and cultures, paleoenvironment, and temperatures.

      Southern Levant is unique for providing records for this study.

  4. May 2022
    1. Miracles transcend the body.

      Let us perform a thought experiment: imagine your reactions if you hear that wildfires have destroyed your house. Compare it to another made up news that now your enemy has burned your house. And let's imagine also how we'd react on hearing that our kids were playing, gone too far and burned our house.

      Most likely if it were our kids our first intent would be to help them first and calm them down, neglecting all that happened to the house. While wildfires could have set us on the victim's mode to start complaining on some gods, the government and generally on bad luck. And if it were our enemy, oh boy, we could have gone to a crusade in courts... to say the last.

      There is a phrase in English, that comes from most unlikely area for spiritual seekers, and it goes: "It's nothing personal, just business". What if we could unplug events from personalities and take events as winds, as an unfoldment of our hidden conciseness in dreams. Would it be easier then to just forgive?

      The focus on a body is judgment's first initial step. Remove the pieces off the board, look past all bodies and ask to realize the truth; for it isn't personal, just karma.

      The purpose of the world you see is to obscure your function of forgiveness, and provide you with a justification for forgetting it. W-64.1.2

      As the ‪‎ego‬ would limit your perception of your brothers to the body, so would the ‪Holy Spirit‬ release your vision and let you see the Great Rays shining from them, so unlimited that they reach to ‪‎God‬. T-15.9.1

      ...forgiveness looks past bodies. This is its holiness; this is how it heals. The world of bodies is the world of sin, for only if there were a body is sin possible ... Only the body makes the world seem real. C-4.5

    1. DICER1 syndrome is a rare genetic condition predisposing to hereditary cancer and caused by variants in the DICER1

      GeneName: DICER1 PMCID: PMC7859642 HGNCID: Unavailable Inheritance Pattern: Autosomal dominant. Disease Entity: Familial pleuropulmonary blastoma (PPB), cervix embryonal rhabdomyosarcoma, multinodular goiter, nasal chondromesenchymal hemartoma, Ciliary body medulloepithelioma, Sertoli-Leydig Cell Tumor (SLCT), differentiated thyroid carcinoma, pituitary blastoma, pineoblastoma, cystic nephroma, Wilm's tumor and sarcomas of different sites including, amongst others, the uterine cervix, kidney and brain. Mutation: Germline Zygosity: Heterozygose Variant: No ClinVarID present. Family Information: No family outline Case: No specified information of patients included. CasePresentingHPO's: n/a CasePrevious Testing: n/a gnomAD: n/a Mutation Type: nonsense, frameshift, or splice affected.

  5. Apr 2022
    1. DICER1 syndrome is a rare genetic condition predisposing to hereditary cancer and caused by variants in the DICER1 gene.

      Gene Name: DICER1 PMID:33552988 HGNCID: Unavailable Inheritance Pattern:Autosomal Dominant Disease Entity: familial pleuropulmonary blastoma (PPB),cystic nephroma, ovarian Sertoli-Leydig cell tumor (SLCT), multinodular goiter, cervix embryonal rhabdomyosarcoma, Wilms’ tumor, nasal chondromesenchymal hamartoma, ciliary body medulloepithelioma, differentiated thyroid carcinoma, pituitary blastoma, pineoblastoma, and sarcomas of different sites. Mutation: Nonsense, Frameshift<br /> Zygosity: Heterosygosity Variant:No ClinVar ID present Family Information:no diseases mentioned in family Case: no specified case in this article gnomAD: n/a Mutation type: Nonsense. frameshift

    1. Nabokov’s working notecards for “Lolita.”

      Nabokov used index cards for his research and writing. In one index card for research on Lolita, he creates a "weight-heigh-age table for girls of school age" to be able to specify Lolita's measurements. He also researched the Colt catalog of 1940 to get gun specifications to make those small points realistic in his writing.

      syndication link

  6. Mar 2022
  7. Jan 2022
  8. Dec 2021
  9. Nov 2021
  10. Sep 2021
    1. Thebody:

      Make sure to add facts and personal stories if you can that support the main idea of what you are writing about.

  11. Aug 2021
  12. Jul 2021
    1. Sending body/payload in a GET request may cause some existing implementations to reject the request — while not prohibited by the specification, the semantics are undefined. It is better to just avoid sending payloads in GET requests.
    2. Requests using GET should only be used to request data (they shouldn't include data).
  13. Apr 2021
  14. Mar 2021
  15. Feb 2021
  16. Jan 2021
  17. Nov 2020
    1. A direct, “you seem” statement might work with your own kid, but for an adult, it might feel like labeling, which can trigger defensiveness or an emotional shutdown. The goal is to encourage the other person to open up about how they’re doing by showing you care, so frame your observation in a way that won’t make them feel judged or misinterpreted.Instead, couch your observation with softer, curiosity-driven language. Mia Rosenberg, a therapist and the owner of Upsider Therapy, recommends the “I’ve noticed that” and “I’m wondering” formula. For example, you could say, “I’ve noticed that you’re quieter lately; I’m wondering if you’re stressed?”

      "You seem" might work on a child but can be seen as labeling when used on an adult.

      Instead use "I've noticed that" and "I'm wondering". Also observe body language.

      Do not say "You look tired" because that can seem mean to someone struggling. Instead use emotion focused words such as burned out or frustrated.

    1. So before using GET with Body parameter, you must first ensure the servers are supporting it. It is possible that some servers might ignore the body of GET request or behavior like caching GET/HEAD requests might cause issues.
    2. A payload within a GET request message has no defined semantics; sending a payload body on a GET request might cause some existing implementations to reject the request.
  18. Jul 2020
    1. Matamala-Gomez. M., Brivio E., Chirico. A., Malighetti. C., Realdon. O., Serino. S., Dakanalis. A., Corno. G., Polli. N., Cacciatore. C., Riva. Giuseppe., Mantovani. F (2020) User Experience and usability of a new virtual reality set-up to treat eating disorders: a pilot study. PsyArXiv Preprints. Retrieved from: https://psyarxiv.com/b38ym/

    1. By honoring the mammae as sign and symbol of the highest class ofanimals, Linnaeus assigned a new value to the female, especially women’s unique rolein reproduction

      Throughout the multiple texts, utilized human-parts place specified bodies within social constructions, given limits of autonomy dependent on close monitoring by superiors. Kirkup and Schiebinger reflect on the Womxn’s breasts dictating the taxonomy of humans as mammalia--”a study of breasts." We see this era uplifted the sacredness of milk and the role of women’s reproduction, whilst stationing them closer to “beasts” than men, and assigning women to domesticity.

      Breasts as parts, natural tools embedded in the female body, parallels the seemingly hopeful outlook on this developing Cyborg body’s own parts, but these parts remain observed and reduced to science--a socially constructed pyramid falsely dubbed as standardized and empirical--determining the value and humanity of minorities. The parts of the female and POC body do not grant the bearer their autonomy, but rather outside scrutiny and oversight.

      We established mid 20th-century authors dubbed living beings as very complex machines, and question "are humans machines?"--can we break down the human/machine boundary by referring the symbol of breasts as also a mechanized part? I feel through Haraway's Cyborg we can, as rough as it feels to conceptualize breasts as another gear/customization.

    2. on a stage two feet high, along which she was led by her keeper, and exhibited like awild beast; being obliged to walk, stand, or sit as he ordered her.”6

      African women’s breasts are dubbed “beastly,” “pendulous” (Schiebinger 26)--using breasts and vaginal physical traits as a determinism to rank women by race. As Saartjie Bartman’s naked body is exhibited an object--reminding of a modern tech convention putting foreign car parts on a pedestal--the male scientific gaze is further scrutinizing and classifying womxn by parts.

      Thus the eyes of the male gaze are the male scientists, carried down to the audience’s white curiosity--the circus scene is disquieting. Further investigation of her body only continues to stretch the spectacle of Saartjie Baartman, exhibited like colonized art within museum, even as a corpse.

    3. reast shapes amonghumans

      The mathematical, geometric breakdown of the breast's shape feels uncomfortable like an engineer's diagram--dictating its value by diameter. This continues my thought that body parts are observed as machine parts under the male and scientific gaze.

    1. Stalking Cat is open to the idea of a relationship, especially with a cat girl by far, which may exist but they haven't met them. It requires a very deep bond, and it's difficult to deny that bond to a given animal, so I imagine it might be difficult to sustain a non cat-cat relationship.

      There's also the issue of not having enough time to sustain a relationship, as much time is spent pursuing body modifications.

    2. Going back a few generations, apparently what Stalking Cat is doing was a "fairly common thing" in the Huron (may've misspelled that) tribe, according to a professor of Native American Studies.

    3. There is some surprise from the general public about how intelligent and articulate members of the animal-style body mod community (and furry fandom) are, concerning their weirdness and animalistic tendencies. Stalking Cat has a degree in electronics engineering.

      In addition, Stalking Cat's work is specialised enough that they have a solid position in their employment field, and isn't worried in that regard. Adding onto that, Stalking Cat is quite introverted, and in their day-to-day life, and Cat really doesn't give a shit, despite their empathy. It was something they had to do, and Cat knows you may feel some way about that, but it's irrelevant. (Without being so brash in words.)

    4. If the resources are available, Stalking Cat plans (planned?) to extend their body modification not just to the face, but tails, claws, feet (paws) everything, but it's an expensive and time-consuming process.

    5. As Shannon Larratt is interviewing Stalking Cat, he brings up a point that's quite interesting to me, and entirely relevant to the idea of privacy and unwanted celebrity we discussed earlier in this course.

      SL: "... uh you do- you do go to a fair number of tattoo conventions, and you must experience at least a minor celebrity status while you're there."

      SC: "Well, you know, in fact, I've only been to a couple conventions-"

      SL: "I guess- I guess it's just every one you go to, they will always photo you."

      SC: "Right, and my pictures have been plastered all over the place, and uh, it, in a way kind of irritates me, because these people're making money off of something I've spent a great deal of time doing, and I haven't gotten a dime out of it."

      SL: "Mmhmm."

      SC: "But uh, and uh, and they're basically using my picture to get themselves famous."

      SL: "Mmhmm."

      SC: "Or to get publicised."

      SL: "Yeah."

      SC: "But again, I did this for me, not for other people."

      SL: "Mmhmm."

      There's also been a positive side to this, as it encouraged self-expression amongst the public, and while not exactly normalising it, it allowed people who needed to do stuff like this to accept it and go for it. (But not those who are doing it as a trend.)

    6. Interesting story behind feline dentures, how the dentist refused to do them when they were healthy, but when Stalking Cat destroyed their teeth from years of drinkin' and druggin' (their words, not mine), the dentist agreed to sculpt feline teeth-style dentures.

      I'm surprised it doesn't affect Cat's speech (much).

    7. Stalking Cat spent a lot of time self-medicating with drugs and alcohol trying to deny their empathy and their connection to different animals, especially cats. Trying to subdue and deny these feelings didn't work very well, but living as a cat counteracted these negative feelings.

    8. Being 1/2 Indian (Native American) & 1/2 White was a very big culture shock to Stalking Cat, as they fought with both the Indians & the Whites for being partially the other race. Stalking Cat accepted the cat/tigress as their spirit animal, which was originally pointed out by the medicine man of Cat's tribe.

      Has many tattoos, started with aquatic animals and moved onto cat-type tattoos.

    1. As Potts points out, medical experts consider modifications that contravene social norms to be a form of self-mutilation, but they are much less likely to make such judgments about cosmetic surgeries intended to align appearance more closely with norms.27 Thus a medical ethicist who has never spoken with Stalking Cat was willing to state for publication the fear that he is "seriously risking his health" and thus being "harmed by medicine,"28 although Cat tells me that he has experienced no such health effects. Likewise, Lizard Man says that tongue-splitting is perfectly safe, with no negative consequences. Although Cat's alterations meet more often with patronizing dismissal than overt hostility, Orlan makes people quite angry, even when they are favorably disposed to her gender critique.2

      Interesting point. This sort of body modification may not be harmful in the physical sense, and I mean, maybe the social aspects can be overlooked? Kind of hard to put myself in their shoes, and what can I reasonably say about their experiences?

      A critical examination is shaky ground here.

  19. Jun 2020
  20. Apr 2020
    1. This API uses request body in GET requests. For a long time this was prohibited in RFC2616 HTTP specification, but since RFCs 7230-7237, it is only discouraged, since older implementations could reject such requests. However, given that major APIs such as ElasticSearch's already implement GET with request bodies, there is precedence to such implementation.

      My first sighting of the sending a request body with get request.

  21. Mar 2020
    1. But the, the fluid shift kind of to the blood, to your head, your head, it feels full and puffy

    Tags

    Annotators

  22. Jan 2020
    1. and hand control to Big Ag

      How the fuck did big agrobusinesses get so big? Don't these GMO skeptics want to talk about that? About monopolies and anti-trust laws in general? and regulatory capture in other fields as well? Aren't these related issues whereby preventing either of these would have averted the big ag crisis we see today?

      We need discussions around these connected points and not in isolation

  23. Nov 2019
  24. May 2019
    1. After breakfast they made ready to say farewell, as nearly heavy of heart3 as was possible on such a morning; cool, bright, and clean under a washed autumn sky of thin blue. The air came fresh from the North-West.They rode off along a path and looked out from the hill-top over lands under the morning. It was now as clear and far-seen as it had been veiled and misty when they stood upon the knoll in the Forest. They took a deep draught of the air.4Their way wound along the floor of the hollow, and round the green feet of a steep hill into another deeper and broader valley. As they journeyed the sun mounted, and grew hot. Each time they climbed a ridge the breeze seemed to have grown less. When they caught a glimpse of the country westward the distant Forest seemed to be smoking, as if the fallen rain was steaming up again. A shadow now lay round the edge of sight, a dark haze above which the sky was like a blue cap.5 On that side the hills were higher and looked down upon them; and all those hills were crowned with green mounds, and on some were standing stones, pointing upwards like jagged teeth out of green gums. The view was somehow disquieting; so they turned from the sight and went down into the hollow circle. In the midst of it there stood a single stone, standing tall under the sun above, and at this hour casting no shadow. They set their backs6 against the east side of the stone. It was cool, as if the sun had had no power to warm it. There they took food and drink.Riding over the hills, and eating their fill,7 lying a little too long; these things are, perhaps, enough to explain what happened. How­ever, that may be: they woke suddenly from a sleep they had never meant to take. The standing stone was cold, and it cast a long pale shadow. The sun was gleaming through the mist; north, south, and east, the fog was thick, cold and white. The air was silent, heavy and chill.
    2. Riding over the hills, and eating their fill,7 lying a little too long; these things are, perhaps, enough to explain what happened. How­ever, that may be: they woke suddenly from a sleep they had never meant to take. The standing stone was cold, and it cast a long pale shadow. The sun was gleaming through the mist; north, south, and east, the fog was thick, cold and white. The air was silent, heavy and chill.The hobbits8 sprang to their feet in alarm, and ran to the western rim. They found that they were upon an island in the fog. Even as they looked out in dismay towards the setting sun, it sank before their eyes into a white sea, and a cold grey shadow sprang up in the East behind. The fog rolled up to the walls and rose above them, and as it mounted it bent over their heads until it became a roof. They felt as if a trap was closing about them. They packed up as quickly as their chilled fingers would work.Soon they were leading their ponies in single file9 over the rim and down the long northward slope of the hill, down into a foggy sea. As they went down the mist became colder and damper, and their hair hung lank and dripping on their foreheads. When they reached the bottom it was so cold that they halted and got out cloaks and hoods, which soon became bedewed with grey drops. Then, mounting their ponies, they went slowly on again. To prevent their getting separated and wandering in different directions they went in file, with Frodo leading. Suddenly Frodo saw a hopeful sign. On either side ahead a darkness began to loom through the mist; and he guessed that they were at last approaching the gap in the hills. 'Come on! Follow me!' he called back over his shoulder, and he hurried forward. His pony reared, and he fell off. When he looked back he found that he was alone: the others had not fol­lowed him.

      main body

    3. 'Sam!' he called. 'Pippin! Merry! Come along! Why don't you keep up?'10There was no answer. Fear took him, and he ran back. As he struggled on he called again, and kept on calling more and more frantically. He was weary, sweating and yet chilled. It was wholly dark.'Where are you?' he cried out miserably.There was no reply. He stood listening. He was suddenly aware that it was getting very cold, and that up here a wind was beginning to blow, an icy wind. A change was coming in the weather. The mist was flowing past him in shreds and tatters. His breath was smok­ing.11 He looked up and saw with surprise that faint stars were ap­pearing overhead amid the strands of hurrying cloud and fog. Oat of the east the biting wind was blowing.'Where are you?' he cried again, both angry and afraid.'Here!' said a voice, deep and cold, that seemed to come out of the ground. 'I am waiting for you!''No!' said Frodo; but he did not run away. His knees gave,12 and he fell on the ground. Nothing happened, and there was no sound. Trembling he looked up in time to see a tall dark figure like a shadow against the stars. It leaned over him. He thought there were two eyes, very cold though lit with a pale light that seemed to come from some remote distance. Then a grip stronger and colder than iron seized him. The icy touch froze his bones, and he remembered no more.When he came to himself again, for a moment he could recall nothing except a sense of dread. Then suddenly he knew that he was imprisoned, caught hopelessly; he was in a barrow. A Barrow-wight had taken him, and he was probably already under the dreadful spells of the Barrow-wights about which whispered tales spoke. Hedared not move, but lay as he found himself: flat on his back upon a cold stone with his hands on his breast.As he lay there, thinking and getting a hold on himself, he no­ticed all at once that the darkness was slowly giving way:13 a pale greenish light was growing round him. He turned, and there in the cold glow he saw lying beside him Sam, Pippin, and Merry.There was a loud rumbling sound, as of stones rolling and fal­ling, and suddenly light streamed in. A low door-like opening appeared at the end of the chamber beyond Frodo's feet; and there was Tom's head against the light of the sun rising red behind him.'Come, friend Frodo!' said Tom. 'Let us get out on to the clean grass! You must help me bear them.' Together they carried out Merry, Pippin and Sam. To Frodo's great joy the hobbits stirred, robbed their eyes, and then suddenly sprang up. They looked about in amazement. 'What in the name of wonder?14 began Merry. 'Where did you get to, Frodo?''I thought that I was lost', said Frodo; 'but I don't want to speak of it.' But Tom shook his head, saying: 'Be glad, my merry friends, and let the warm sunlight heat now heart and limb! Cast off these cold rags! Run naked on the grass!'
    4. Riding over the hills, and eating their fill,7 lying a little too long; these things are, perhaps, enough to explain what happened. How­ever, that may be: they woke suddenly from a sleep they had never meant to take. The standing stone was cold, and it cast a long pale shadow. The sun was gleaming through the mist; north, south, and east, the fog was thick, cold and white. The air was silent, heavy and chill.The hobbits8 sprang to their feet in alarm, and ran to the western rim. They found that they were upon an island in the fog. Even as they looked out in dismay towards the setting sun, it sank before their eyes into a white sea, and a cold grey shadow sprang up in the East behind. The fog rolled up to the walls and rose above them, and as it mounted it bent over their heads until it became a roof. They felt as if a trap was closing about them. They packed up as quickly as their chilled fingers would work.Soon they were leading their ponies in single file9 over the rim and down the long northward slope of the hill, down into a foggy sea. As they went down the mist became colder and damper, and their hair hung lank and dripping on their foreheads. When they reached the bottom it was so cold that they halted and got out cloaks and hoods, which soon became bedewed with grey drops. Then, mounting their ponies, they went slowly on again. To prevent their getting separated and wandering in different directions they went in file, with Frodo leading. Suddenly Frodo saw a hopeful sign. On either side ahead a darkness began to loom through the mist; and he guessed that they were at last approaching the gap in the hills. 'Come on! Follow me!' he called back over his shoulder, and he hurried forward. His pony reared, and he fell off. When he looked back he found that he was alone: the others had not fol­lowed him.
  25. Apr 2019
    1. “We have learned that trauma is not just an event that took place sometime in the past; it is also the imprint left by that experience on mind, brain, and body. This imprint has ongoing consequences for how the human organism manages to survive in the present. Trauma results in a fundamental reorganization of the way mind and brain manage perceptions. It changes not only how we think and what we think about, but also our very capacity to think.”
    2. Trauma victims cannot recover until they become familiar with and befriend the sensations in their bodies. Being frightened means that you live in a body that is always on guard. Angry people live in angry bodies. The bodies of child-abuse victims are tense and defensive until they find a way to relax and feel safe. In order to change, people need to become aware of their sensations and the way that their bodies interact with the world around them. Physical self-awareness is the first step in releasing the tyranny of the past.
    3. “As long as you keep secrets and suppress information, you are fundamentally at war with yourself…The critical issue is allowing yourself to know what you know. That takes an enormous amount of courage.”
    1. Nobody can “treat” a war, or abuse, rape, molestation, or any other horrendous event, for that matter; what has happened cannot be undone. But what can be dealt with are the imprints of the trauma on body, mind, and soul: the crushing sensations in your chest that you may label as anxiety or depression; the fear of losing control; always being on alert for danger or rejection; the self-loathing; the nightmares and flashbacks; the fog that keeps you from staying on task and from engaging fully in what you are doing; being unable to fully open your heart to another human being.
    2. Agency starts with what scientists call interoception, our awareness of our subtle sensory, body-based feelings: the greater that awareness, the greater our potential to control our lives. Knowing what we feel is the first step to knowing why we feel that way. If we are aware of the constant changes in our inner and outer environment, we can mobilize to manage them.
    3. The body keeps the score: If the memory of trauma is encoded in the viscera, in heartbreaking and gut-wrenching emotions, in autoimmune disorders and skeletal/muscular problems, and if mind/brain/visceral communication is the royal road to emotion regulation, this demands a radical shift in our therapeutic assumptions.
    1. What other colours do you have this in?' asked Sayako of the assistants, who were packing her suits, loafers, bags and wig.'Just one other colour,' said an assistant (who thought, Jesus, we'll have a drink after work tonight).She hurried to the back of the shop and quickly returned with a toffee-brown version of the sumptuous coat.8'Yes,' said Sayako. 'I take both and, of course, boots to match, size four.' She pointed to the boots worn by the red-haired manne­quin.The pile on the counter grew. Her bodyguard standing inside the shop door shifted impatiently.When the Princess and her purchases had been driven away, the manageress and her assistants screamed and yelled and hugged each other for joy.

      In this part sayako taked more type of cloths and shoes. And shop assistents happy that they sail so many items.

    2. She then handed over a platinum card which bore the name of her father, the Emperor of Japan.
    3. 'What other colours do you have this in?' asked Sayako of the assistants, who were packing her suits, loafers, bags and wig.'Just one other colour,' said an assistant (who thought, Jesus, we'll have a drink after work tonight).She hurried to the back of the shop and quickly returned with a toffee-brown version of the sumptuous coat.8'Yes,' said Sayako. 'I take both and, of course, boots to match, size four.' She pointed to the boots worn by the red-haired manne­quin.The pile on the counter grew. Her bodyguard standing inside the shop door shifted impatiently.When the Princess and her purchases had been driven away, the manageress and her assistants screamed and yelled and hugged each other for joy.
    4. As the manageress tapped in the magic numbers from the card,7 Sayako tried on a soft green-coloured suede coat which was also be­ing worn by a red-haired mannequin. The suede coat cost one penny less than a thousand pounds.

      Sayako paid for her goods by credit card.

    5. 'That colour's very good on you,' she said, smiling professio­nally.Sayako said, 'I take it and also I take it in strawberry and navy and primrose.'3The manageress inwardly rejoiced. She would now reach this week's target.4 Her job would be safe for at least another month. God bless the Japanese!Sayako walked over on stockinged feet5 to a display of suede loafers.'And these shoes to match all suits in size four,' she said. Her role model was the fibreglass mannequin6 which lolled convincingly against the shop counter, wearing the same cream suit that Sayako was wearing, the loafers that Sayako had just ordered and a bag that Sayako was about to order in navy, strawberry, cream and primrose. The mannequin's blonde nylon wig shone under the spotlights. Her blue eyes were half closed as though she were encaptured by her own beauty.She is so beautiful, thought Sayako. She took the wig from the mannequin's head and placed it on her own. It fitted perfectly.'And I take this,' she said.She then handed over a platinum card which bore the name of her father, the Emperor of Japan.

      In this part Sayako taked many type of cloths and colours

    6. 'That colour's very good on you,' she said, smiling professio­nally.Sayako said, 'I take it and also I take it in strawberry and navy and primrose.'3The manageress inwardly rejoiced. She would now reach this week's target.4 Her job would be safe for at least another month. God bless the Japanese!Sayako walked over on stockinged feet5 to a display of suede loafers.'And these shoes to match all suits in size four,' she said. Her role model was the fibreglass mannequin6 which lolled convincingly against the shop counter, wearing the same cream suit that Sayako was wearing, the loafers that Sayako had just ordered and a bag that Sayako was about to order in navy, strawberry, cream and primrose. The mannequin's blonde nylon wig shone under the spotlights. Her blue eyes were half closed as though she were encaptured by her own beauty.She is so beautiful, thought Sayako. She took the wig from the mannequin's head and placed it on her own. It fitted perfectly.'And I take this,' she said.

      Main Body

    7. She then handed over a platinum card which bore the name of her father, the Emperor of Japan.As the manageress tapped in the magic numbers from the card,7 Sayako tried on a soft green-coloured suede coat which was also be­ing worn by a red-haired mannequin. The suede coat cost one penny less than a thousand pounds.'What other colours do you have this in?' asked Sayako of the assistants, who were packing her suits, loafers, bags and wig.'Just one other colour,' said an assistant (who thought, Jesus, we'll have a drink after work tonight).She hurried to the back of the shop and quickly returned with a toffee-brown version of the sumptuous coat.8'Yes,' said Sayako. 'I take both and, of course, boots to match, size four.' She pointed to the boots worn by the red-haired manne­quin.The pile on the counter grew. Her bodyguard standing inside the shop door shifted impatiently.When the Princess and her purchases had been driven away, the manageress and her assistants screamed and yelled and hugged each other for joy.

      Main Body

    8. 'That colour's very good on you,' she said, smiling professio­nally.Sayako said, 'I take it and also I take it in strawberry and navy and primrose.'3The manageress inwardly rejoiced. She would now reach this week's target.4 Her job would be safe for at least another month. God bless the Japanese!Sayako walked over on stockinged feet5 to a display of suede loafers.'And these shoes to match all suits in size four,' she said. Her role model was the fibreglass mannequin6 which lolled convincingly against the shop counter, wearing the same cream suit that Sayako was wearing, the loafers that Sayako had just ordered and a bag that Sayako was about to order in navy, strawberry, cream and primrose. The mannequin's blonde nylon wig shone under the spotlights. Her blue eyes were half closed as though she were encaptured by her own beauty.She is so beautiful, thought Sayako. She took the wig from the mannequin's head and placed it on her own. It fitted perfectly.'And I take this,' she said.She then handed over a platinum card which bore the name of her father, the Emperor of Japan.As the manageress tapped in the magic numbers from the card,7 Sayako tried on a soft green-coloured suede coat which was also be­ing worn by a red-haired mannequin. The suede coat cost one penny less than a thousand pounds.'What other colours do you have this in?' asked Sayako of the assistants, who were packing her suits, loafers, bags and wig.'Just one other colour,' said an assistant (who thought, Jesus, we'll have a drink after work tonight).She hurried to the back of the shop and quickly returned with a toffee-brown version of the sumptuous coat.8'Yes,' said Sayako. 'I take both and, of course, boots to match, size four.' She pointed to the boots worn by the red-haired manne­quin.The pile on the counter grew. Her bodyguard standing inside the shop door shifted impatiently.When the Princess and her purchases had been driven away, the manageress and her assistants screamed and yelled and hugged each other for joy.
    1. The message of the campaign, to “see beauty in imperfections” and not to “worship stereotypes,” has both raised the morale of women worldwide and greatly increased Dove sales revenue (Dove).

      Dove changes the way they see themselves.

  26. Mar 2019
    1. 'After all,' the dark woman resumed her conversation, 'how would it look if she was there when I turned up?' Her friend shook her head slowly from side to side and ended with a quick nod.Should she have got such a small size salad cream? Jean wasn't sure. She was sick of throwing away half-used bottles of stuff.'He came back to you after all,' the blonde woman suddenly said. Jean looked up quickly and immediately felt her cheeks flush. She bent over and began to rearrange the items in her shopping basket.'On his hands and knees,' the dark woman spoke in a trium­phant voice. 'Begged me take him back.'She gritted her teeth together. Should she go and change it for a larger size? Jean looked behind and saw that she was hemmed in by three large trollies. She'd lose her place in the queue. There was something so pitiful about buying small sizes of everything. It was as though everyone knew.'You can always tell a person by their shopping,' was one of her mother's favourite maxims. She looked into her shopping basket: individual fruit pies, small salad cream, yoghurt, tomatoes, cat food and a chicken quarter.

      Main body 2 Jean gets into an akward situation and thinks about size of the purchases.

    2. 'You can always tell a person by their shopping,' was one of her mother's favourite maxims. She looked into her shopping basket: individual fruit pies, small salad cream, yoghurt, tomatoes, cat food and a chicken quarter.The cashier suddenly said, 'Make it out to J. Sainsbury PLC.' She was addressing a man who had been poised and waiting to write out a cheque for a few moments. His wife was loading what looked like a gross offish fingers into a cardboard box marked "Whiskas". It was called a division of labour.Jean looked again at her basket and began to feel the familiar feeling of regret that visited her from time to time. Hemmed in be­tween family-size cartons of cornflakes and giant packets of wash­ing-powder, her individual yoghurt seemed to say it all. She looked up towards a plastic bookstand which stood beside the till. A slim glossy hardback caught her eye. The words Cooking for One screamed out from the front cover. Think of all the oriental foods you can get into, her friend had said. He was so traditional after all. Nodding in agreement with her thoughts Jean found herself eye to eye with the blonde woman, who gave her a blank, hard look and handed her what looked like a black plastic ruler with the words "Next customer please" printed on it in bold letters. She turned back to her friend. Jean put the ruler down on the conveyor belt.

      In the third part, Jean finaly approaches the conveyor belt.

    3. The cashier suddenly said, 'Make it out to J. Sainsbury PLC.' She was addressing a man who had been poised and waiting to write out a cheque for a few moments. His wife was loading what looked like a gross offish fingers into a cardboard box marked "Whiskas". It was called a division of labour.Jean looked again at her basket and began to feel the familiar feeling of regret that visited her from time to time. Hemmed in be­tween family-size cartons of cornflakes and giant packets of wash­ing-powder, her individual yoghurt seemed to say it all. She looked up towards a plastic bookstand which stood beside the till. A slim glossy hardback caught her eye. The words Cooking for One screamed out from the front cover. Think of all the oriental foods you can get into, her friend had said. He was so traditional after all. Nodding in agreement with her thoughts Jean found herself eye to eye with the blonde woman, who gave her a blank, hard look and handed her what looked like a black plastic ruler with the words "Next customer please" printed on it in bold letters. She turned back to her friend. Jean put the ruler down on the conveyor belt.She thought about their shopping trips, before, when they were together. All that rushing round, he pushing the trolley dejectedly, she firing questions at him. Salmon? Toilet rolls? Coffee? Peas? She remembered he only liked the processed kind. It was all such a performance. Standing there holding her wire basket, embarrassed by its very emptiness, was like something out of a soap opera.'Of course, we've had our ups and downs,' the dark woman continued, lazily passing a few items down to her friend.Jean began to load her food on to the conveyor belt. She picked up the cookery book and felt the frustrations of indecision. It was only ninety pence but it seemed to define everything, to pinpoint her aloneness, to prescribe an empty future. She put it back in its place.'So that's why I couldn't have her there you see,' the dark woman was summing up. The friends exchanged knowing expres­sions and the blonde woman got her purse out of a neat leather bag. She peeled off three ten pound notes and handed them to the cashier.Jean opened her carrier bag ready for her shopping. She turned to watch the two women as they walked off, the blonde pushing the trolley and the other seemingly carrying on with her story.

      Main body 3 Standing there holding Jane's wire basket, embarrassed by its very emptiness, was like something out of a soap opera.

    4. 'So what did you say?' Jean heard the blonde woman in front of her talking to her friend.'Well,' the darker woman began, 'I said I'm not having that woman there. I don't see why I should. I mean I'm not being old-fashioned but I don't see why I should have to put up with her at family occasions. After all...'Jean noticed the other woman giving an accompaniment of nods and headshaking at the appropriate parts. They fell into si­lence and the queue moved forward a couple of steps.Jean felt her patience beginning to itch. Looking into her wire basket she counted ten items. That meant she couldn't go through the quick till but simply had to wait behind elephantine shopping loads; giant bottles of coke crammed in beside twenty-pound bags of potatoes and 'special offer' drums of bleach. Somewhere at the bottom, Jean thought, there was always a plastic carton of eggs or a see-through tray of tomatoes which fell casualty to the rest. There was nothing else for it — she'd just have to wait.'After all,' the dark woman resumed her conversation, 'how would it look if she was there when I turned up?' Her friend shook her head slowly from side to side and ended with a quick nod.Should she have got such a small size salad cream? Jean wasn't sure. She was sick of throwing away half-used bottles of stuff.'He came back to you after all,' the blonde woman suddenly said. Jean looked up quickly and immediately felt her cheeks flush. She bent over and began to rearrange the items in her shopping basket.'On his hands and knees,' the dark woman spoke in a trium­phant voice. 'Begged me take him back.'She gritted her teeth together. Should she go and change it for a larger size? Jean looked behind and saw that she was hemmed in by three large trollies. She'd lose her place in the queue. There was something so pitiful about buying small sizes of everything. It was as though everyone knew.'You can always tell a person by their shopping,' was one of her mother's favourite maxims. She looked into her shopping basket: individual fruit pies, small salad cream, yoghurt, tomatoes, cat food and a chicken quarter.The cashier suddenly said, 'Make it out to J. Sainsbury PLC.' She was addressing a man who had been poised and waiting to write out a cheque for a few moments. His wife was loading what looked like a gross offish fingers into a cardboard box marked "Whiskas". It was called a division of labour.Jean looked again at her basket and began to feel the familiar feeling of regret that visited her from time to time. Hemmed in be­tween family-size cartons of cornflakes and giant packets of wash­ing-powder, her individual yoghurt seemed to say it all. She looked up towards a plastic bookstand which stood beside the till. A slim glossy hardback caught her eye. The words Cooking for One screamed out from the front cover. Think of all the oriental foods you can get into, her friend had said. He was so traditional after all. Nodding in agreement with her thoughts Jean found herself eye to eye with the blonde woman, who gave her a blank, hard look and handed her what looked like a black plastic ruler with the words "Next customer please" printed on it in bold letters. She turned back to her friend. Jean put the ruler down on the conveyor belt.She thought about their shopping trips, before, when they were together. All that rushing round, he pushing the trolley dejectedly, she firing questions at him. Salmon? Toilet rolls? Coffee? Peas? She remembered he only liked the processed kind. It was all such a performance. Standing there holding her wire basket, embarrassed by its very emptiness, was like something out of a soap opera.'Of course, we've had our ups and downs,' the dark woman continued, lazily passing a few items down to her friend.Jean began to load her food on to the conveyor belt. She picked up the cookery book and felt the frustrations of indecision. It was only ninety pence but it seemed to define everything, to pinpoint her aloneness, to prescribe an empty future. She put it back in its place.'So that's why I couldn't have her there you see,' the dark woman was summing up. The friends exchanged knowing expres­sions and the blonde woman got her purse out of a neat leather bag. She peeled off three ten pound notes and handed them to the cashier.Jean opened her carrier bag ready for her shopping. She turned to watch the two women as they walked off, the blonde pushing the trolley and the other seemingly carrying on with her story.The cashier was looking expectantly at her and Jean realized that she had totalled up. It was four pounds and eighty-seven pence. She had the right money, it just meant sorting her change out. She had an inclination that the people behind her were becoming impa­tient. She noticed their stack of items all lined and waiting, it seemed, for starters orders. Brown bread and peppers, olive oil and, in the centre, a packet of beefburgers.

      Main body

    5. 'After all,' the dark woman resumed her conversation, 'how would it look if she was there when I turned up?' Her friend shook her head slowly from side to side and ended with a quick nod.Should she have got such a small size salad cream? Jean wasn't sure. She was sick of throwing away half-used bottles of stuff.'He came back to you after all,' the blonde woman suddenly said. Jean looked up quickly and immediately felt her cheeks flush. She bent over and began to rearrange the items in her shopping basket.'On his hands and knees,' the dark woman spoke in a trium­phant voice. 'Begged me take him back.'She gritted her teeth together. Should she go and change it for a larger size? Jean looked behind and saw that she was hemmed in by three large trollies. She'd lose her place in the queue. There was something so pitiful about buying small sizes of everything. It was as though everyone knew.'You can always tell a person by their shopping,' was one of her mother's favourite maxims. She looked into her shopping basket: individual fruit pies, small salad cream, yoghurt, tomatoes, cat food and a chicken quarter.

      In the second part of the main body, Jean gets into an akward situation and thinks about size of the purchases.

    6. 'After all,' the dark woman resumed her conversation, 'how would it look if she was there when I turned up?' Her friend shook her head slowly from side to side and ended with a quick nod.Should she have got such a small size salad cream? Jean wasn't sure. She was sick of throwing away half-used bottles of stuff.'He came back to you after all,' the blonde woman suddenly said. Jean looked up quickly and immediately felt her cheeks flush. She bent over and began to rearrange the items in her shopping basket.'On his hands and knees,' the dark woman spoke in a trium­phant voice. 'Begged me take him back.'She gritted her teeth together. Should she go and change it for a larger size? Jean looked behind and saw that she was hemmed in by three large trollies. She'd lose her place in the queue. There was something so pitiful about buying small sizes of everything. It was as though everyone knew.

      She wanted to change her cream salad for a bigger one, but realized that she would lose her spot in the queue.

    7. 'After all,' the dark woman resumed her conversation, 'how would it look if she was there when I turned up?' Her friend shook her head slowly from side to side and ended with a quick nod.Should she have got such a small size salad cream? Jean wasn't sure. She was sick of throwing away half-used bottles of stuff.'He came back to you after all,' the blonde woman suddenly said. Jean looked up quickly and immediately felt her cheeks flush. She bent over and began to rearrange the items in her shopping basket.'On his hands and knees,' the dark woman spoke in a trium­phant voice. 'Begged me take him back.'She gritted her teeth together. Should she go and change it for a larger size? Jean looked behind and saw that she was hemmed in by three large trollies. She'd lose her place in the queue. There was something so pitiful about buying small sizes of everything. It was as though everyone knew.
    8. 'So what did you say?' Jean heard the blonde woman in front of her talking to her friend.'Well,' the darker woman began, 'I said I'm not having that woman there. I don't see why I should. I mean I'm not being old-fashioned but I don't see why I should have to put up with her at family occasions. After all...'Jean noticed the other woman giving an accompaniment of nods and headshaking at the appropriate parts. They fell into si­lence and the queue moved forward a couple of steps.Jean felt her patience beginning to itch. Looking into her wire basket she counted ten items. That meant she couldn't go through the quick till but simply had to wait behind elephantine shopping loads; giant bottles of coke crammed in beside twenty-pound bags of potatoes and 'special offer' drums of bleach. Somewhere at the bottom, Jean thought, there was always a plastic carton of eggs or a see-through tray of tomatoes which fell casualty to the rest. There was nothing else for it — she'd just have to wait.

      In the first part of the main body, the main character hears a conversation of two women about their personal problems. She also notices that she bought not everything she needed.

    9. She thought about their shopping trips, before, when they were together. All that rushing round, he pushing the trolley dejectedly, she firing questions at him. Salmon? Toilet rolls? Coffee? Peas? She remembered he only liked the processed kind. It was all such a performance. Standing there holding her wire basket, embarrassed by its very emptiness, was like something out of a soap opera.'Of course, we've had our ups and downs,' the dark woman continued, lazily passing a few items down to her friend.Jean began to load her food on to the conveyor belt. She picked up the cookery book and felt the frustrations of indecision. It was only ninety pence but it seemed to define everything, to pinpoint her aloneness, to prescribe an empty future. She put it back in its place.'So that's why I couldn't have her there you see,' the dark woman was summing up. The friends exchanged knowing expres­sions and the blonde woman got her purse out of a neat leather bag. She peeled off three ten pound notes and handed them to the cashier.

      main hero wants to buy a cookery book

    10. 'You can always tell a person by their shopping,' was one of her mother's favourite maxims. She looked into her shopping basket: individual fruit pies, small salad cream, yoghurt, tomatoes, cat food and a chicken quarter.The cashier suddenly said, 'Make it out to J. Sainsbury PLC.' She was addressing a man who had been poised and waiting to write out a cheque for a few moments. His wife was loading what looked like a gross offish fingers into a cardboard box marked "Whiskas". It was called a division of labour.Jean looked again at her basket and began to feel the familiar feeling of regret that visited her from time to time. Hemmed in be­tween family-size cartons of cornflakes and giant packets of wash­ing-powder, her individual yoghurt seemed to say it all. She looked up towards a plastic bookstand which stood beside the till. A slim glossy hardback caught her eye. The words Cooking for One screamed out from the front cover. Think of all the oriental foods you can get into, her friend had said. He was so traditional after all. Nodding in agreement with her thoughts Jean found herself eye to eye with the blonde woman, who gave her a blank, hard look and handed her what looked like a black plastic ruler with the words "Next customer please" printed on it in bold letters. She turned back to her friend. Jean put the ruler down on the conveyor belt.

      Then Jean noted a book with the title "Cooking for one" that was on a bookstand beside the till.

    11. 'You can always tell a person by their shopping,' was one of her mother's favourite maxims. She looked into her shopping basket: individual fruit pies, small salad cream, yoghurt, tomatoes, cat food and a chicken quarter.The cashier suddenly said, 'Make it out to J. Sainsbury PLC.' She was addressing a man who had been poised and waiting to write out a cheque for a few moments. His wife was loading what looked like a gross offish fingers into a cardboard box marked "Whiskas". It was called a division of labour.Jean looked again at her basket and began to feel the familiar feeling of regret that visited her from time to time. Hemmed in be­tween family-size cartons of cornflakes and giant packets of wash­ing-powder, her individual yoghurt seemed to say it all. She looked up towards a plastic bookstand which stood beside the till. A slim glossy hardback caught her eye. The words Cooking for One screamed out from the front cover. Think of all the oriental foods you can get into, her friend had said. He was so traditional after all. Nodding in agreement with her thoughts Jean found herself eye to eye with the blonde woman, who gave her a blank, hard look and handed her what looked like a black plastic ruler with the words "Next customer please" printed on it in bold letters. She turned back to her friend. Jean put the ruler down on the conveyor belt.

      in this part main hero reason about items one`s woman

    12. She thought about their shopping trips, before, when they were together. All that rushing round, he pushing the trolley dejectedly, she firing questions at him. Salmon? Toilet rolls? Coffee? Peas? She remembered he only liked the processed kind. It was all such a performance. Standing there holding her wire basket, embarrassed by its very emptiness, was like something out of a soap opera.'Of course, we've had our ups and downs,' the dark woman continued, lazily passing a few items down to her friend.Jean began to load her food on to the conveyor belt. She picked up the cookery book and felt the frustrations of indecision. It was only ninety pence but it seemed to define everything, to pinpoint her aloneness, to prescribe an empty future. She put it back in its place.'So that's why I couldn't have her there you see,' the dark woman was summing up. The friends exchanged knowing expres­sions and the blonde woman got her purse out of a neat leather bag. She peeled off three ten pound notes and handed them to the cashier.

      Then she thought about their shopping trips when they were together.

    13. 'So what did you say?' Jean heard the blonde woman in front of her talking to her friend.'Well,' the darker woman began, 'I said I'm not having that woman there. I don't see why I should. I mean I'm not being old-fashioned but I don't see why I should have to put up with her at family occasions. After all...'Jean noticed the other woman giving an accompaniment of nods and headshaking at the appropriate parts. They fell into si­lence and the queue moved forward a couple of steps.Jean felt her patience beginning to itch. Looking into her wire basket she counted ten items. That meant she couldn't go through the quick till but simply had to wait behind elephantine shopping loads; giant bottles of coke crammed in beside twenty-pound bags of potatoes and 'special offer' drums of bleach. Somewhere at the bottom, Jean thought, there was always a plastic carton of eggs or a see-through tray of tomatoes which fell casualty to the rest. There was nothing else for it — she'd just have to wait.

      Jean heard the conversation of two women standing in front of her in the queue. She felt her patience beginning to itch.

    14. 'You can always tell a person by their shopping,' was one of her mother's favourite maxims. She looked into her shopping basket: individual fruit pies, small salad cream, yoghurt, tomatoes, cat food and a chicken quarter.The cashier suddenly said, 'Make it out to J. Sainsbury PLC.' She was addressing a man who had been poised and waiting to write out a cheque for a few moments. His wife was loading what looked like a gross offish fingers into a cardboard box marked "Whiskas". It was called a division of labour.Jean looked again at her basket and began to feel the familiar feeling of regret that visited her from time to time. Hemmed in be­tween family-size cartons of cornflakes and giant packets of wash­ing-powder, her individual yoghurt seemed to say it all. She looked up towards a plastic bookstand which stood beside the till. A slim glossy hardback caught her eye. The words Cooking for One screamed out from the front cover. Think of all the oriental foods you can get into, her friend had said. He was so traditional after all. Nodding in agreement with her thoughts Jean found herself eye to eye with the blonde woman, who gave her a blank, hard look and handed her what looked like a black plastic ruler with the words "Next customer please" printed on it in bold letters. She turned back to her friend. Jean put the ruler down on the conveyor belt.
    15. She thought about their shopping trips, before, when they were together. All that rushing round, he pushing the trolley dejectedly, she firing questions at him. Salmon? Toilet rolls? Coffee? Peas? She remembered he only liked the processed kind. It was all such a performance. Standing there holding her wire basket, embarrassed by its very emptiness, was like something out of a soap opera.'Of course, we've had our ups and downs,' the dark woman continued, lazily passing a few items down to her friend.Jean began to load her food on to the conveyor belt. She picked up the cookery book and felt the frustrations of indecision. It was only ninety pence but it seemed to define everything, to pinpoint her aloneness, to prescribe an empty future. She put it back in its place.'So that's why I couldn't have her there you see,' the dark woman was summing up. The friends exchanged knowing expres­sions and the blonde woman got her purse out of a neat leather bag. She peeled off three ten pound notes and handed them to the cashier.

      fourth part of the main body

    16. 'After all,' the dark woman resumed her conversation, 'how would it look if she was there when I turned up?' Her friend shook her head slowly from side to side and ended with a quick nod.Should she have got such a small size salad cream? Jean wasn't sure. She was sick of throwing away half-used bottles of stuff.'He came back to you after all,' the blonde woman suddenly said. Jean looked up quickly and immediately felt her cheeks flush. She bent over and began to rearrange the items in her shopping basket.'On his hands and knees,' the dark woman spoke in a trium­phant voice. 'Begged me take him back.'She gritted her teeth together. Should she go and change it for a larger size? Jean looked behind and saw that she was hemmed in by three large trollies. She'd lose her place in the queue. There was something so pitiful about buying small sizes of everything. It was as though everyone knew.

      second part of the main body

    17. 'You can always tell a person by their shopping,' was one of her mother's favourite maxims. She looked into her shopping basket: individual fruit pies, small salad cream, yoghurt, tomatoes, cat food and a chicken quarter.The cashier suddenly said, 'Make it out to J. Sainsbury PLC.' She was addressing a man who had been poised and waiting to write out a cheque for a few moments. His wife was loading what looked like a gross offish fingers into a cardboard box marked "Whiskas". It was called a division of labour.Jean looked again at her basket and began to feel the familiar feeling of regret that visited her from time to time. Hemmed in be­tween family-size cartons of cornflakes and giant packets of wash­ing-powder, her individual yoghurt seemed to say it all. She looked up towards a plastic bookstand which stood beside the till. A slim glossy hardback caught her eye. The words Cooking for One screamed out from the front cover. Think of all the oriental foods you can get into, her friend had said. He was so traditional after all. Nodding in agreement with her thoughts Jean found herself eye to eye with the blonde woman, who gave her a blank, hard look and handed her what looked like a black plastic ruler with the words "Next customer please" printed on it in bold letters. She turned back to her friend. Jean put the ruler down on the conveyor belt.

      third part of the main body

    18. 'So what did you say?' Jean heard the blonde woman in front of her talking to her friend.'Well,' the darker woman began, 'I said I'm not having that woman there. I don't see why I should. I mean I'm not being old-fashioned but I don't see why I should have to put up with her at family occasions. After all...'Jean noticed the other woman giving an accompaniment of nods and headshaking at the appropriate parts. They fell into si­lence and the queue moved forward a couple of steps.Jean felt her patience beginning to itch. Looking into her wire basket she counted ten items. That meant she couldn't go through the quick till but simply had to wait behind elephantine shopping loads; giant bottles of coke crammed in beside twenty-pound bags of potatoes and 'special offer' drums of bleach. Somewhere at the bottom, Jean thought, there was always a plastic carton of eggs or a see-through tray of tomatoes which fell casualty to the rest. There was nothing else for it — she'd just have to wait.
    19. 'So what did you say?' Jean heard the blonde woman in front of her talking to her friend.'Well,' the darker woman began, 'I said I'm not having that woman there. I don't see why I should. I mean I'm not being old-fashioned but I don't see why I should have to put up with her at family occasions. After all...'Jean noticed the other woman giving an accompaniment of nods and headshaking at the appropriate parts. They fell into si­lence and the queue moved forward a couple of steps.Jean felt her patience beginning to itch. Looking into her wire basket she counted ten items. That meant she couldn't go through the quick till but simply had to wait behind elephantine shopping loads; giant bottles of coke crammed in beside twenty-pound bags of potatoes and 'special offer' drums of bleach. Somewhere at the bottom, Jean thought, there was always a plastic carton of eggs or a see-through tray of tomatoes which fell casualty to the rest. There was nothing else for it — she'd just have to wait.

      1 part of main body

    20. 'So what did you say?' Jean heard the blonde woman in front of her talking to her friend.'Well,' the darker woman began, 'I said I'm not having that woman there. I don't see why I should. I mean I'm not being old-fashioned but I don't see why I should have to put up with her at family occasions. After all...'Jean noticed the other woman giving an accompaniment of nods and headshaking at the appropriate parts. They fell into si­lence and the queue moved forward a couple of steps.Jean felt her patience beginning to itch. Looking into her wire basket she counted ten items. That meant she couldn't go through the quick till but simply had to wait behind elephantine shopping loads; giant bottles of coke crammed in beside twenty-pound bags of potatoes and 'special offer' drums of bleach. Somewhere at the bottom, Jean thought, there was always a plastic carton of eggs or a see-through tray of tomatoes which fell casualty to the rest. There was nothing else for it — she'd just have to wait.
    21. 'So what did you say?' Jean heard the blonde woman in front of her talking to her friend.'Well,' the darker woman began, 'I said I'm not having that woman there. I don't see why I should. I mean I'm not being old-fashioned but I don't see why I should have to put up with her at family occasions. After all...'Jean noticed the other woman giving an accompaniment of nods and headshaking at the appropriate parts. They fell into si­lence and the queue moved forward a couple of steps.Jean felt her patience beginning to itch. Looking into her wire basket she counted ten items. That meant she couldn't go through the quick till but simply had to wait behind elephantine shopping loads; giant bottles of coke crammed in beside twenty-pound bags of potatoes and 'special offer' drums of bleach. Somewhere at the bottom, Jean thought, there was always a plastic carton of eggs or a see-through tray of tomatoes which fell casualty to the rest. There was nothing else for it — she'd just have to wait.'After all,' the dark woman resumed her conversation, 'how would it look if she was there when I turned up?' Her friend shook her head slowly from side to side and ended with a quick nod.Should she have got such a small size salad cream? Jean wasn't sure. She was sick of throwing away half-used bottles of stuff.'He came back to you after all,' the blonde woman suddenly said. Jean looked up quickly and immediately felt her cheeks flush. She bent over and began to rearrange the items in her shopping basket.'On his hands and knees,' the dark woman spoke in a trium­phant voice. 'Begged me take him back.'She gritted her teeth together. Should she go and change it for a larger size? Jean looked behind and saw that she was hemmed in by three large trollies. She'd lose her place in the queue. There was something so pitiful about buying small sizes of everything. It was as though everyone knew.'You can always tell a person by their shopping,' was one of her mother's favourite maxims. She looked into her shopping basket: individual fruit pies, small salad cream, yoghurt, tomatoes, cat food and a chicken quarter.The cashier suddenly said, 'Make it out to J. Sainsbury PLC.' She was addressing a man who had been poised and waiting to write out a cheque for a few moments. His wife was loading what looked like a gross offish fingers into a cardboard box marked "Whiskas". It was called a division of labour.Jean looked again at her basket and began to feel the familiar feeling of regret that visited her from time to time. Hemmed in be­tween family-size cartons of cornflakes and giant packets of wash­ing-powder, her individual yoghurt seemed to say it all. She looked up towards a plastic bookstand which stood beside the till. A slim glossy hardback caught her eye. The words Cooking for One screamed out from the front cover. Think of all the oriental foods you can get into, her friend had said. He was so traditional after all. Nodding in agreement with her thoughts Jean found herself eye to eye with the blonde woman, who gave her a blank, hard look and handed her what looked like a black plastic ruler with the words "Next customer please" printed on it in bold letters. She turned back to her friend. Jean put the ruler down on the conveyor belt.She thought about their shopping trips, before, when they were together. All that rushing round, he pushing the trolley dejectedly, she firing questions at him. Salmon? Toilet rolls? Coffee? Peas? She remembered he only liked the processed kind. It was all such a performance. Standing there holding her wire basket, embarrassed by its very emptiness, was like something out of a soap opera.'Of course, we've had our ups and downs,' the dark woman continued, lazily passing a few items down to her friend.Jean began to load her food on to the conveyor belt. She picked up the cookery book and felt the frustrations of indecision. It was only ninety pence but it seemed to define everything, to pinpoint her aloneness, to prescribe an empty future. She put it back in its place.'So that's why I couldn't have her there you see,' the dark woman was summing up. The friends exchanged knowing expres­sions and the blonde woman got her purse out of a neat leather bag. She peeled off three ten pound notes and handed them to the cashier.

      main body

    22. 'So what did you say?' Jean heard the blonde woman in front of her talking to her friend.'Well,' the darker woman began, 'I said I'm not having that woman there. I don't see why I should. I mean I'm not being old-fashioned but I don't see why I should have to put up with her at family occasions. After all...'Jean noticed the other woman giving an accompaniment of nods and headshaking at the appropriate parts. They fell into si­lence and the queue moved forward a couple of steps.Jean felt her patience beginning to itch. Looking into her wire basket she counted ten items. That meant she couldn't go through the quick till but simply had to wait behind elephantine shopping loads; giant bottles of coke crammed in beside twenty-pound bags of potatoes and 'special offer' drums of bleach. Somewhere at the bottom, Jean thought, there was always a plastic carton of eggs or a see-through tray of tomatoes which fell casualty to the rest. There was nothing else for it — she'd just have to wait.'After all,' the dark woman resumed her conversation, 'how would it look if she was there when I turned up?' Her friend shook her head slowly from side to side and ended with a quick nod.Should she have got such a small size salad cream? Jean wasn't sure. She was sick of throwing away half-used bottles of stuff.'He came back to you after all,' the blonde woman suddenly said. Jean looked up quickly and immediately felt her cheeks flush. She bent over and began to rearrange the items in her shopping basket.'On his hands and knees,' the dark woman spoke in a trium­phant voice. 'Begged me take him back.'She gritted her teeth together. Should she go and change it for a larger size? Jean looked behind and saw that she was hemmed in by three large trollies. She'd lose her place in the queue. There was something so pitiful about buying small sizes of everything. It was as though everyone knew.'You can always tell a person by their shopping,' was one of her mother's favourite maxims. She looked into her shopping basket: individual fruit pies, small salad cream, yoghurt, tomatoes, cat food and a chicken quarter.The cashier suddenly said, 'Make it out to J. Sainsbury PLC.' She was addressing a man who had been poised and waiting to write out a cheque for a few moments. His wife was loading what looked like a gross offish fingers into a cardboard box marked "Whiskas". It was called a division of labour.Jean looked again at her basket and began to feel the familiar feeling of regret that visited her from time to time. Hemmed in be­tween family-size cartons of cornflakes and giant packets of wash­ing-powder, her individual yoghurt seemed to say it all. She looked up towards a plastic bookstand which stood beside the till. A slim glossy hardback caught her eye. The words Cooking for One screamed out from the front cover. Think of all the oriental foods you can get into, her friend had said. He was so traditional after all. Nodding in agreement with her thoughts Jean found herself eye to eye with the blonde woman, who gave her a blank, hard look and handed her what looked like a black plastic ruler with the words "Next customer please" printed on it in bold letters. She turned back to her friend. Jean put the ruler down on the conveyor belt.She thought about their shopping trips, before, when they were together. All that rushing round, he pushing the trolley dejectedly, she firing questions at him. Salmon? Toilet rolls? Coffee? Peas? She remembered he only liked the processed kind. It was all such a performance. Standing there holding her wire basket, embarrassed by its very emptiness, was like something out of a soap opera.'Of course, we've had our ups and downs,' the dark woman continued, lazily passing a few items down to her friend.Jean began to load her food on to the conveyor belt. She picked up the cookery book and felt the frustrations of indecision. It was only ninety pence but it seemed to define everything, to pinpoint her aloneness, to prescribe an empty future. She put it back in its place.'So that's why I couldn't have her there you see,' the dark woman was summing up. The friends exchanged knowing expres­sions and the blonde woman got her purse out of a neat leather bag. She peeled off three ten pound notes and handed them to the cashier.Jean opened her carrier bag ready for her shopping. She turned to watch the two women as they walked off, the blonde pushing the trolley and the other seemingly carrying on with her story.The cashier was looking expectantly at her and Jean realized that she had totalled up. It was four pounds and eighty-seven pence. She had the right money, it just meant sorting her change out. She had an inclination that the people behind her were becoming impa­tient. She noticed their stack of items all lined and waiting, it seemed, for starters orders. Brown bread and peppers, olive oil and, in the centre, a packet of beefburgers.
  27. Feb 2019
    1. Na11tral therefore means "not mechanical," rather than "springing from human na­ture."

      So...not Borg? (cf. mholder on Astell)

      I'm a little puzzled by this. I understand the part clarifying that natural doesn't mean inherent to human nature, but what do they mean by "not mechanical"? If gestures are attached to ideas, does that make them a physical extension of thought (and thereby not solely bodily)? Is that (mechanical/bodily) what they are getting at? If so, the separation of language and thought and/or body and mind gets a bit blurry.

  28. Jan 2019
    1. We regularly, in the interests of Plato-worship, disembody language and reason, with the narrow-mindedness Mark Johnson points out in an important recent book, The Body in the Mindl3 Our persistent evasion of the "Q" question makes for a great deal of self-centered, self-serving preaching and a great deal of self-satisfied practice. We do sometimes follow that master of contemptuous, self-satisfied self-absorp-tion, the Platonic Socrates, closely indeed.

      This reminds me of Albert Camus' thoughts on absurdity, and what James Cone says in his book Black Theology and Black Power: "All aspects of this society have participated in the act of enslaving blacks, extinguishing Indians, and annihilating all who question white society's right to decide who is human....Absurdity arises as the black man seeks to understand his place in the white world. The black man does not view himself as absurd; he views himself as human. But as he meets the white world and its values, he is confronted with an almighty No and is defined as a thing. This produces the absurdity."

  29. Dec 2018
    1. The Heads Up Health web app is designed specifically to help you track ketones alongside all of your other vital health data.
    2. Why Measuring Ketones MattersBeing able to frequently and accurately measure the level of ketosis can be important for those following the ketogenic diet for clinical purposes as well as for overall health and performance. Due to individual variability in response to different types of food, having frequent feedback will aid individuals towards improving their understanding of how their body responds while increasing motivation and adherence.
  30. Oct 2018
    1. Calculations of Σ are unfortunately very difficult even for the electrongas. We must resort to approximations and this review describes theGWapproximation (GWA)(Hedin 1965a) which is the simplest working approximation beyond the HFA that takes screeninginto account.

      This is a good explanation of what GW really does. It calculates the self energy.

  31. Sep 2018
    1. soul uing the body as an instrument of perception. Why put a divine logos in a body? This line in Phaedo suggests the soul has a practical use for having a body, that it uses the body to see or hear

  32. Jun 2018
    1. One consequence of thisposition is a more radical understanding of the sense in whichmateriality is discursive (i.e., material phenomena are inseparable from theapparatuses of bodily production: matteremerges out of and includes as part of itsbeing the ongoing reconfiguring of boundaries), just as discursive practices arealways already material (i.e., they are ongoing material (re)configurings of theworld) (2003: 822).Brought back into the world oftechnology design, this intimate co-constitution ofconfigured materialities with configuring agencies clearly implies a very differentunderstanding of the ‘human-machine interface’.
  33. Apr 2018
    1. Perhaps music and language both evolved out of the need for early humans to communicate their emotional state to other members of the group.

      Were our modern day languages created out of a singled shared language or did each separate group express themselves in different ways that lead to multiple languages today?

  34. Jan 2018
  35. Mar 2017
    1. She doesn't "speak," she throws her trembling body forward; she lets go of herself, she flies; all of her passes into her voice, and it's with her body that she vi-tally supports the "logic" of her speech.

      This is very different from the choreographed gestures of Austin. The body is spontaneous. In addition, she seems to expand what logic is. Logic is traditionally an intellectual capacity, one which has been considered men's strong point and women's weakness. She flips this conception by challenging the mind/body binary of traditional rhetoric and claiming that the body is a site of logic.

    1. ontexts without any center

      This again seems to be a contrast with Cixous, who considers the body as the center.

    2. xtending enormously, if not infinitely, the domain of oral or gestural communication.

      I wonder what the role of the body is in rhetoric and writing for Derrida. I, and I imagine most people, tend to think of speaking as more related to the body than writing--you can't use the same gestures/inflections when writing. I wonder if Derrida thinks of writing as transcending the body, or does writing extend the body, which would be very different? And this also brings me back to Cixous since for her the body and writing are interconnected.

    1. The most effective approach has been minimizing fat stores located inside the abdominal cavity (visceral body fat) in addition to minimizing total body fat.[46] Visceral fat, which is more metabolically active than subcutaneous fat, has been found to produce many enzymatic signals, e.g. resistin, which increase insulin resistance and circulating VLDL particle concentrations, thus both increasing LDL particle concentrations and accelerating the development of diabetes mellitus.
    1. like

      Not quite sure how this got here. What is the actual connection to the body?

    2. bodies

      While Locke is no doubt influenced by Cartesian dualism, which seems based upon the frequency of bodily failure, he seems to reject this idea (that the body is naturally or frequently in error).

      See chapter 4 of Dalia Judovitz's The Culture of the Body: Genealogies of Modernity.

      She closely reads Descartes' Meditations on the First Philosophy with special attention to the theological turn in Descartes' ontology. She spends the chapter considering how his claims that "the existence of God and the distinction between the mind and the body" are "underlain by the haunting invocation and recurrent appearance of errant, spectral, and mechanical bodies" (83).

    3. The anonymous and autonomous functions of the body

      See Drew Leder's The Absent Body.

      There might be some really fascinating intersections with his phenomenological investigation of disembodiment.

    1. Let one of these crusted distinctions return to its source, and in this alchemic center it may be re-made, again becoming molten liquid, and may enter into new combinations, whereat it may be again thrown forth as a new crust, a different dis-tinction. So that A may become non-A. But not merely by a leap from one state to the other. Rather, we must take A back into the ground of its existence, the logical substance that is its causal ancestor, and on to a point where it is con-substantial with non-A; then we may return, this time emerging with non-A instead.

      Looking ahead to Cixous, there will be some interesting overlaps here. In "The Laugh of the Medusa" she attempts to break down the gender binary of "man=A" and "woman=non-A" (castration, mutilation, MEDUSA), to be annotated there...

      I had never realized it until now, but she even uses the same earthly metaphors:

      This doesn't mean that she's an undifferentiated magma, but that she doesn't lord it over her body or her desire (1533).

  36. Feb 2017
    1. A composition should be "a body, not a mere collection of members,"9 but it should be a living body.

      This reminds me of Lessing's The Golden Notebook. The issue of writing and ownership is something that is playing out as the protagonist (a writer) discusses her published work as something which doesn't even feel like it belongs to her; she thinks of it more as the property of her readers, and is ashamed of her work and confused as to why critics like it. Hill seems to almost think of composition as a separate body with a life of its own, and the author is something of a parent who brings the composition into being. Where does this position the audience, and what makes a written work a "living body"? Of rhetoric doesn't make a work "alive," what does?

    1. heterogeneous and hostile audi-ences, lo claim a hearing that their very appear.ince would often seem lo deny them, and thus to add entirely new elements lo the Western rhetorical tradition

      This is a historical moment in which the body of the rhetor must be taken into account, as well as the bodies of the audience.

    1. employment

      Hume and Blair both value exercising senses/faculties in order to develop taste, and though this seems hard to argue with, long-term employment in using your eyes or your hands can result in things like loss of vision or arthritis. Does this in anyway factor into taste? Individual taste can become refined, but can it develop in other ways, good or bad?

    1. In contemplating a human creature, the most nat-ural division of the subject is the common divi-sion into soul and body

      Here's that dualism Nathaniel forewarned us about . . .

    1. Die Brücke Institute

      An important historical note here: most of the Die Brücke artists and their later avant-garde peers who fell under the various "-isms" such as Fauvism, Expressionism, Cubism, etc. were eventually persecuted by the Nazis, who believed the kind of art work seen above (Emil Nolde, Masks, 1911) to be "degenerate," which I think fits well into the dialogue about the "normalcy" of the body in creating socio-political standards. Artists such as Braque, Beckmann, Chagall, Dix, Grosz, Kandinsky, Klee, Matisse, Munch, and Picasso were all considered degenerate by the racially-obsessed Nazis because of the way they depicted the composition of the human body. Hitler looked to classical models, specifically Greek and Roman traditions, as examples toward which the German Volk should strive, because their ideal exterior forms embodied the inner Nazi idea of racial superiority, or normalcy. Modernists celebrated subjective and unique perspectives of reality (including, and especially the body), which, unfortunately for them, did not fit into the promotion of a singularly molded and racially uniform German state.

    1. i"\ o~..l."'1 ~.Cf'\lc:,.e( ol11~&.1.U1~~J \ '-'-'\-~~ Q ~4....,t. ~e:cr.·u.s.

      In it's own way, the body also engages in rhetoric. I find it interesting that Austin tried to document it in such a visual manner, although the execution was... meh.

  37. Jan 2017
    1. The great resemblance between mental and bodily taste will easily teach us to apply this story.

      The mind and body rejoined: Cartesian dualism bypassed?

    1. Underpinning these discussions was the belief that the materiality of the body, one’s physical features were a catalogue of signs to be interpreted not only for the sake one’s own body, as was the case for bedside medicine, but rather and mainly for the body politic.

      So many sources to share here, but here is one in particular that I think is especially relevant today, particularly as we think about enforcement of norms based on appearance and how it...defines (?)...national identity: "Disabled Upon Arrival: The Rhetorical Construction of Disability and Race at Ellis Island" by Jay Dolmage. Hopefully this link takes you to the PDF.

      Important quote: "Ellis Island was designed to process the immigrant body—through an industrialized choreography, through a regime of vision, and through layers of anti-immigration discourse. Ellis Island became the key laboratory and operating theater for American eugenics, the scientific racism that can be seen to define a unique era of Western history, the effects of which can still be felt today. I will argue that Ellis Island, as a rhetorical space, can be seen as a nexus—and a special point of origin—for eugenics and the rhetorical construction of disability and race in the early twentieth century" (27).

      Also, here's a video of this paper presented as a lecture.

    2. His quantification of variation under the influence of the Aristotelean ‘Golden Mean,’ developed by the latter in the second volume of the Nichomachean Ethics whereby virtue is the desirable mean between deficiency and excess.

      Ah, so here (and in the highlighted portion below) is the first moment when we see the bodily "mean" or "average" being connected to virtuosity and societal ills. I mean, we have not yet jumped to "if you have a birthmark you must be a witch," but I think Lemos is identifying the scientific/historical moments which later devolved into such trends. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sglyFwTjfDU

  38. Jul 2016
    1. When you ask why such "bad" cops are  armed and allowed to patrol the streets, one begins to see that lurking beneath this violence is a fiscal menace.

      It is not fair to our cops to be under so much pressure! I am so relieved this article has pointed out the need to address the root of the problem, rather than simply get caught up in the tired "all lives matter" and so on take. This is very refreshing. I hope we all work to address this locally. Reduce fines. Reduce crime. Reduce the danger to our beloved force AND people. Do not expect them to become cash cows with their lives on the line. IMHO

  39. May 2016