Showing posts with label posthumanism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label posthumanism. Show all posts

Friday, June 27, 2008

4 out of 5 French Existentialists Agree:

'if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.' --Nietzsche

If you are sick of feeling like a self-absorbed abyss, and you live near Seattle, there may be a great opportunity to change that. The self-absorbed abyss part; I offer no suggestions nor assistance as to relocation. Tent City is going to be up at Prince of Peace Lutheran in Shoreline for the next three months. With collaboration through the Shoreline YMCA and a grant from ELCA, there is a meal program there Wednesday nights for about 150-190 people.

With Tent City there, there will be an additional 100 or so people. Most of the volunteers start somewhere between 3:30-5, and the meal will now run from 5-7-ish, to allow for a second seating. Volunteers are needed for set-up, service, bussing tables, doing dishes, and cleanup. If you want to volunteer, please call the Shoreline YMCA at 206-364-1700.

If you need more convincing that doing nice things is a nice thing to do, here are what some famous religious figures have to say on the matter:


'Feed the hungry and visit the sick, and free the captive, if he be unjustly confined. Assist any person oppressed, whether Muslim or non-Muslim.' -- Muhammad

'Compassion and love are not mere luxuries.
As the source both of inner and external peace,
they are fundamental to the continued survival of our species.' -- XIV Dalai Lama

'But whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him?' --John the Baptist

'Even offering three hundred bowls of food three times a day does not match the spiritual merit gained in one moment of love.' --Nagarjuna


'Love of all creatures is also love of God, for whoever loves the One loves all the works that He has made. When one loves God, it is impossible not to love His creatures. The opposite is also true. If one hates the creatures, it is impossible to love God who created them.' MaHaRal/ Yehudah ben Bezalel Levai

"Open my heart that compassion may
be my companion;
Where I meet pride, humble me;
Where I meet anger, calm my fears;
Where I meet injustice, cause me
to act in love's way.
May I be as gentle as the doe,
as fearless as the lion,
as faithful as the dog." --King David

'Live with compassion, Work with compassion, Die with compassion, Meditate with compassion, Enjoy with compassion. When problems come, Experience them with compassion.' --Lama Zopa Rinpoche

'I have been all things unholy. If God can work through me, he can work through anyone.' -- Francis of Asissi

Whether you call it tzedekah, chesed, rahmah, ihsan, metta, boddhicitta, mercy, compassion, or good works, everyone from Zoroaster to Abraham thinks you should be cultivating it. And if in their saffron robes and pilgrims' sandals all the foregoing are unconvincing, remember that the great existentialist unbelievers Sartre, Camus, and de Beauvoir all risked their lives to save those of others in the French Resistance. Surely not everyone needs recourse to a metaphysics or baleful eschatology just to wash a few darned dishes???

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

'And was Jerusalem builded here

Among these dark Satanic mills?'

The mills of Blake's time are the fields, slaughterhouses, and sweatshops of ours. And while we castigate China and others for not being the New Jerusalem, it is well to remember that there are human rights abuses, squalor, powerlessness, misery, and death here, as well. Neither China nor Iran, at least, ever commissioned a huge statue welcoming anyone to the land of liberty.

'Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!'

Clearly, immigration is a complex issue, and one not amenable to easy solutions or ready consensus. However, it is clear on the one hand that American citizens are loathe to take agricultural, sewing, or meat-processing jobs. All Maria Isabel Vasquez Jimenez was trying to do was work - and at a very low wage at that. A death sentence seems an extraordinary price to pay for being willing to do jobs few are willing or able to do. And as for her dead child, we will never know what he or she could have been, could have contributed to this country: president? rape counselor? professor? violinist? Or maybe just a decent citizen who, thankful for the rights and privileges accorded to him/her by citizenship, devotes much time to helping others less fortunate.

There is such a thing as worrying too much about everything. There is also, however, such a thing as inherent human dignity and worth - and leaving someone to die without water, shade, or personnel trained in responding to such emergencies is disgusting and unconscionable.




From the UFW website:

Maria’s Story

'On May 14, the official temperature was 95 degrees; it was even hotter inside the wine grape vineyard owned by West Coast Grape Farming, east of Stockton, where Maria and her fiancé, Florentino Bautista, worked. Maria had been working for nine hours.

At 3:40 p.m. Maria became dizzy. She didn’t know where she was and didn’t recognize Florentino. Maria passed out. Florentino helplessly held her in his arms.

There was no water for the workers from 6 a.m. to 10:30 a.m. When water arrived, it was a 10-minute walk from where Maria was working, too far to access. There was no shade or training for foremen and workers about what to do if someone became ill from the heat—as required by law.

The foreman came over and stood four or five feet away, staring at the couple for about five minutes. He said, "Oh, that’s what happens to people, but don’t worry. If you apply some rubbing alcohol to her, it will go away." It didn’t.

After a number of delays Maria was taken to a clinic. On the in Lodi, the foreman called on the driver’s cell phone and spoke to Florentino. “If you take her to a clinic,” the foreman said, “don’t say she was working [for the contractor]. Say she became sick because she was jogging to get exercise. Since she’s underage, it will create big problems for us.”

They arrived at the clinic at 5:15 p.m., more than an hour and a half after Maria was stricken. She was so sick an ambulance took her to the hospital. Doctors said her temperature upon arrival was 108.4 degrees, far beyond what the human body can take.

Maria’s heart stopped six times in the next two days before she passed away on Friday.

Doctors said if emergency medical help had been summoned or she had been taken to the hospital sooner, she might have survived.

It is hard for Maria’s family and her fiancé, Florentino, to accept her death, knowing it could have been prevented.

Florentino, said, “There should be justice for what happened. It wasn’t just. It wasn’t fair what they did.”

The grief that fills our hearts today inspires our work tomorrow. Your donation today can help us send a strong message to the governor and lawmakers and prevent future tragedies.'

Monday, November 26, 2007

Happy Birthday, Ferdinand

Who, indeed, knew that your given name was Mongin, or that you were English at base?

Geneva, 1857. Dead, 1913. Atherosclerosis and pneumonia.

Mongin-Ferdinand de Saussure. French. Calvinist. Synaesthetic. Seminal. The Without-Which-Not for all the social sciences and liberal arts that have come after his quiet existence.

--But it is language itself, not merely pronunciation, that is always teratological, darling, as your descendents have amply shown. And as you along with Freud and Marx stripped the human- out of humanism, we have only a desiccated -ism to cleave to now, without a handy (PIE!) root to grab onto. Still, if you hadn't lived, I should never have been able to have read Zizek, and for that I thank you, if not now or at any other time for haute Structuralism at its hautist...


My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation
I hear the sweet though far off hymn
That hails a new creation:
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It finds an echo in my soul—
How can I keep from singing?