Battigelli, Anna. Margaret Cavendish and the Exiles of the Mind. Kentucky: The University Press of Kentucky, 1998. xii+180 pp. $32.00 (cloth). ISBN 0-8131-2068-3.

2001 ◽  
Vol 37 (1) ◽  
pp. 91-91
2000 ◽  
Vol 95 (3) ◽  
pp. 803
Author(s):  
Sheila Ottway ◽  
Anna Battigelli
Keyword(s):  

2005 ◽  
Author(s):  
◽  
Regine Lamboy

[ACCESS RESTRICTED TO THE UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI AT AUTHOR'S REQUEST.] When Hannah Arendt encountered Adolf Eichmann at his trial in Jerusalem she was struck by the fact that his most outstanding characteristic was his utter thoughtlessness. This raised the questins of whether there might be a connection between thinking and abstaining from evil doing, which she explored in her last book The Life of the Mind. If there is indeed such a connection, there may be a class of people who might be led to abstain from evil doing if they can be persuaded to engage in thinking. This dissertation examines Arendt's success in establishing such a connection. Overall, her project does not really succeed. Her overly formal analysis of thinking wavers between a highly abstract and obscure conceptualization of thinking and a more down to earth definition. Ultimately she winds up stripping thinking of all possible content. .


2019 ◽  
Vol 7 ◽  
pp. 178-198
Author(s):  
Andrew Torrance

A question that is often asked of analytic theologians is: what, if anything, distinguishes analytic theology from philosophy of religion? In this essay, I consider two approaches to what is called “analytic theology.” I argue that the first approach, which I associate with the common practice of analytic theology in the university, is very difficult to distinguish consistently from philosophy of religion. I also argue, however, that there is another approach that can be more clearly distinguished from philosophy of religion (generally understood). Following Aquinas, I associate this with a scientific approach to analytic theology: an approach that is distinguished by a specific commitment to understanding the mind-independent reality of God and all things in relation to God. The primary aim of this essay is to present an account of this latter approach and ask whether it might be possible to take such an approach in the contemporary university.


Digitized ◽  
2012 ◽  
Author(s):  
Peter J. Bentley

Your ideas, money, memories, and entertainment are dreams in the minds of computers. But the thoughts of each computer are not simple, they are layered like our own minds. Their lowest, most primitive layers are the instincts of the machine. Middle layers perform more general functions of its silicon mind. Higher layers think about overall concepts. Unlike us, the computer has languages for every layer. We can teach it new ideas by changing any one or all of its layers of thought. We can tell it to consider vast and convoluted concepts. But if we make a single mistake in our instructions, the mind of our digital slave may crash in a virtual epileptic fit. When our silicon students are so pedantic, how can we engineer their thoughts to make them reliable and trustworthy assistants? And if their thoughts become more complicated than anything we can imagine, how can we guarantee they will do what we want them to? . . . Light poured in through the large windows of the lecture room. The sound of scratching pens from nearly thirty distinguished engineers and scientists accompanied every word spoken by John Mauchly. One fellow by the name of Gard from the Wright Field’s Armament Laboratory seemed to be especially diligent, writing hundreds of pages of notes. It was Monday morning, a warm mid-summer day of 1946, some three years after his stimulating tea-time discussions with Turing. Claude Shannon was three weeks into the eight-week course at the Moore School of Electrical Engineering, in the University of Pennsylvania. It had been an honour to be one of the select few invited to hear lectures on designing electronic digital computers. This was the first ever course to be taught on computer science, and Shannon was finding many of the ideas highly stimulating. He’d recently learned a new word from Mauchly: ‘program’ used as a verb. To program an electronic computer was an interesting concept. He was also hearing about some of the politics: apparently two of the lecturers, Mauchly and his colleague Eckert, had resigned from the university just four months ago because of some form of disagreement.


Author(s):  
Jerrold Winter

There are about 400,000 species of plants in this world. Only a small fraction, perhaps 100 in number, contain hallucinogenic chemicals. Nearly a century ago, Lewis Lewin, professor of pharmacology at the University of Berlin, in speaking of drugs he called phantasticants, said “The passionate desire which . . . leads man to flee from the monotony of daily life . . . has made him discover strange substances (which) have been integral to human evolution both societal and cultural for thousands of years.” An unusual problem presents itself to me in writing about these drugs: They straddle the worlds of science and mysticism. The Encyclopedia Britannica defines mysticism as the practice of religious ecstasies (religious experiences during alternate states of consciousness), together with whatever ideologies, ethics, rites, myths, legends, and magic may be related to them. Science I am comfortable with; mysticism not so much. Yet in our exploration of the agents found in this chapter, we will encounter many persons speaking of drug-induced mystical experiences. I have attempted to get around my unease by first providing the history and the pharmacology of these agents and then touching only lightly on mysticism, allowing readers to draw their own conclusions. What shall we call these chemicals? Hallucinogen, a substance that induces perception of objects with no reality, is the term most commonly encountered and the one that I have settled on for the title of this chapter. However, it comes with a caveat. Albert Hofmann, the discoverer of LSD, our prototypic hallucinogen, has pointed out that a true hallucination has the force of reality, but the effects of LSD only rarely include this feature. Two additional terms that we will find useful are psychotomimetic and psychedelic. We have already considered the former, an ability to mimic psychosis, in our discussion of amphetamine-induced paranoid psychosis in chapter 4 and the effects of phencyclidine in chapter 6. A psychedelic was defined in 1957 by Humphrey Osmond, inventor of the word, as a drug like LSD “which enriches the mind and enlarges the vision.”


Author(s):  
Lidia Bielinis

Connectivism concept introduced by George Siemens seems to be accurate when considering current-learning processes in higher education. The author emphasises the role of socially embedded learning that can take place out of human bodies, in devices. The main aim of this work was to analyse students’ and academic teacher’s experiences related to cooperating through a network and creating mind maps as a result of learning in the frame of the conducted course at the University. The data was collected during the course through Mentimeter tool, which enabled the author to learn students’ opinions, reflections and associations related to the process of working on electronic mind maps. Students were also asked to write reflective essays where they described their experiences associated to the mind map that were significant from the perspective of learning at the University. The results of the analysis were presented below.


1999 ◽  
Vol 64 (4) ◽  
pp. 121
Author(s):  
Kevin Cope ◽  
Anna Battigelli
Keyword(s):  

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