20th WCP: Eichmann, the Banality of Evil, and Thinking in Arendts Thought

From the page: “ABSTRACT: I analyze the ways in which the faculty of thinking can avoid evil action, taking into account Hannah Arendt’s discussion regarding the banality of evil and thoughtlessness in connection with the Eichmann trial. I focus on the following question posed by Arendt: “Could the activity of thinking as such, the habit of examining and reflecting upon whatever happens to come to pass, regardless of specific content and quite independent of results, could this activity be of such a nature that it ‘conditions’ men against evildoing?” Examples of the connection between evildoing and thinking include the distinction between the commonplace and the banal, and the absence of the depth characteristic of banality and the necessity of thinking as the means for depth. I then focus upon Arendt’s model thinker (Socrates) and argue that the faculty of thinking works to avoid evildoing by utilizing the Socratic principle of noncontradiction.”

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rum sodomy and the lash – nyc/london fundraising post #2

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Cat and Girl

~oooooö
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ecotonoha ||| NEC Corporation


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A beautiful cybertree of humanity.
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π

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Russian pictorialism Photos

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Alexander Grinberg
Summer Sun
1926
Union of Photo-artists of Russia collection
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Pratchett Characters: The Luggage


Probably the most homicidal travel accessory in the world. In a land filled with travelling trunks, Twoflower the Tourist had to buy his from one of the tabernae vagantes – the wandering shops, whose stock is always slightly suspect. Philosophers at Unseen University have for some years debated the point of whether the Luggage actually thinks, or whether it merely feels. The remainder of the University long ago came to the conclusion that it simply eats. Whatever it wants. But hopefully, philosophers first.

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Acrylic figurative painting, Song for cello, by Wayne Roberts

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hollow cello case
low notes and the rhythm
···· of us

Mary Rand Hess

(: tanks! 🙂
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cza.free.fr/giclee_files/4D-pasbo-moyen.jpg

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Oh mel honey!
Your snake has been snoozing in my saxophone again!
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index, The Bridge of Dreams

    The Fugitive Eve

      In the first moments of knowing,
      juice drips down her chin onto
      her breasts. Lips and tongue learn
      in this oldest, truest way.
      The fruit is round and radiant.
      The firm weight of it feels
      like power. Shreds of flesh catch
      in her teeth, and as she eats
      she knows it is good.

      He needs no serpent to tempt him.
      He just wants what she has, just as she wants him
      to want what she holds in her hands.
      They share it, then toss the core into a bush,
      knowing that this is the beginning of death,
      the first and best blessing.

      And with the original chill of delight
      and shame, she is on the lam,
      running through brambles, plum boughs,
      and luminous webs, past low-slung branches,
      past the birds of the air and beasts of the field,
      over the rocky soil, stumbling out
      of the garden, out of the numb perfection
      of before into the brilliant and difficult ever-after.
      She is running and running, she feels
      the warm rub of her blood-slicked thighs
      and a thudding, which is her heart. He is close
      behind her, clutching the pain in his side.
      They take hold of one another
      in their wonder and woe,
      and we call out to them
      from our place in the future,
      this moment, now. We beg them
      with our fragile voices,
      Mother, Father, bear us
      into the beautiful trouble
      of this world.”

        ·:· poem – Amy Fleury ·:·
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Cat and Girl

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