The 1930s emerged as one of the most turbulent periods in American history. Members of the middle and lower classes faced rampant economic depression and unemployment. Despite the hardships, higher education in the United States underwent a transformation. Progressive new ideas about teaching and learning took shape as a handful of colleges throughout the nation reorganized to embody the upcoming principles. Rollins College represented one of the foremost among these forward looking schools. Newly elected President Hamilton Holt set about restructuring the school day as well as altering the format of classes to discourage lectures and promote the relationship between students and faculty. As part of his reform campaign, he hired progressive Rhodes Scholar John Andrew Rice to teach Greek and Latin. Rice proved too radical for Holt’s vision of Rollins and lost his job as a result. Upon his release from teaching at Rollins, Rice and a small group of fellow faculty members and a handful of students defected to South Carolina and opened Black Mountain College in 1933. Rice risked opening a new college in the middle of the Great Depression on account of his intense desire to prove himself as a great man.
“Not really. Not the details. What they do know is that many Black leaders are planning something. They don’t have the sources of information in the Black community that I have. I’ve been tapped into the planning of this thing from the beginning, nudging it in the right direction every now and then, helping it along when necessary— all without the Blacks realizing it, of course. What the Jews know is that there’s a hell of a lot more hostility to them among Black leaders— I mean the real leaders, the Black nationalists, not the Uncle Toms the Jews have set up to serve their own interests— than there is among any other segment of the population, and they’re worried about it. The Black leaders all understand the Jewish domination of the media— which is something that most Whites hadn’t figured out before Rogers started telling them— and they’re really pissed that the media didn’t raise a fuss when I cracked down on the rioters in Washington, Chicago, Miami, and a few other places. They’ve been preaching to the Black masses for years that the apparent Jewish sympathy for Blacks is entirely self-serving, that the Jews’ll drop them whenever it suits their purpose, and now the Black masses believe it. They’ll be going after Jews and Jewish businesses with a vengeance when they start the shooting and burning next month. So I won’t have any interference to speak of from the media when I wipe out the Black nationalist movement once and for all. I expect the fighting will last a while, and the President will declare a state of emergency, suspend many civil liberties, and postpone the elections indefinitely. When the dust has settled, the Jews will realize that they’ve lost their chance to shift things in their favor, but they’ll be happy enough to still be alive that they’ll continue supporting the government.”
Another source that recognized Andrew Johnson as a failed leader during Reconstruction is Hans Trefousse’s Andrew Johnson: A Biography published in 1989. This source’s argument is that Andrew Johnson was a bad president during Reconstruction because he was in denial that the southern states even tried to secede in the first place. Moreover, at a personal level, he did not do a very good job at masking his belief concerning the inferiority of black people. Trefousse supports this argument by giving examples of when Johnson tried convincing critics he was Unionist by making half-hearted attempts to appear inclusive of blacks. For example, Johnson allowed an interview with a regiment of black soldiers who paid their respects to the White House. Trefousse describes these attempts as fake. He takes the position that these
Andrew Solomon gives the reader a million directions to follow and numerous points of view. Nineteen million Americans suffer from chronic depression--What the hell are we going to do about it? Solomon does not give the reader answers, but does the research for us: statistics, interviews, studies, drugs, talk therapy, positive thinking, genetics, pychotherapy, psychobiology, Freudian views, Plato's writings, and of course, Andrew Solomon uncovers every secret and has no boundaries when writing about his own stuggle with the "Black Beast."
Today I went out with a fuel recovery team, and I got a close look at our civilian problem. It really shook me. We were driving a big gasoline tank truck, with an armed jeep escort, from filling station to filling station in the Pasadena area, pumping the gasoline out of each station's tanks and into our truck. There's enough fuel in the area to meet our own needs for quite a while, but the civilians are just going to have to get along without their cars for the duration. Pasadena used to be mostly White a few years ago, but it has become substantially Black now. In the Black areas, whenever we ran into Blacks near a filling station, we simply opened fire on them to keep them at a distance. In the White areas, we were mobbed by hungry Whites begging us for food-which, of course, we didn't have to give them.
'The prince lifted up Frank and kissed his nose for joy; and a bright tear rolled down on Frank's face, and made him rub his nose with his paw in the most comical manner. Then the prince set him down, and he ran round and round after his tail; and lastly cocked his tail up, and marched proudly after the prince into the castle'. The jubilant scene is sharpened by the striking contrast with the previous passage in which Frank is described as a very old, half-blind miserable cat stretching in a sunny place. 'The poor creature was lean, and its fur had fallen off in patches; it could no longer catch birds, nor even mice, and there was nobody to give it milk ... this black cat had got a breakfast somehow, and was happy in the sun. The prince stood and looked at him pityingly, and he thought that even a sick old cat was, in some ways, happier than most men*.
The position of the opposition is being further weakened by the revival of so-called “political technology” (the local black arts of covert manipulation). Many of the “opposition” parties running in the election were in reality covert projects of the authorities. Forward Ukraine! and its leader Nataliya Korolevska act like radical opposition forces, but are in reality what is known locally as “clones” – that is, copies of other parties financed by leading oligarchs that try to take the place of the old opposition – hence the choice of a young, glamorous female leader to compete with Yuliya Tymoshenko. The authorities prevented some opposition parties such as UDAR from campaigning in eastern Ukraine, where the Party of Regions is relatively sanguine about losing votes to other parties such as the Communists, as it knows the Communists will be a reliable part of any future super-majority.
After more than 22 years of peaceful coexistence with all of its neighbours, Ukraine has found itself in a state of “hybrid war” with the country that until now has been its biggest single trading partner and its key source of energy imports (of both natural gas and nuclear fuel). And the two nations have close cultural and historical ties. The past two decades have not been without incident: there were political crises in 1992–1994 about the Black Sea Fleet and Crimea, and in 2003 about the island of Tuzla; there were gas disputes in 1998– 2000, 2006, and 2008–2009; and there have been numerous “trade wars”. But despite the ever-present risk of escalation, politicians, the wider public, and expert communities in both countries agreed that, because of mutual dependencies and shared memory, armed hostilities between the two would end in a “lose-lose” situation. However, since the Orange Revolution in 2004, the Kremlin has perceived Ukraine’s moves towards democratic development and European integration as an existential threat to Putin’s regime, needing to be neutralised by every possible political, economic, and security means.
The purpose of Andrew Davison’s The Love of Wisdom is made plain in the subtitle: it is An Introduction to Philosophy for Theologians. More precisely, it is an introduction to Western philosophy for Christian theologians, and it succeeds admirably on those terms, arguing for the inescapably philosophical nature of Christian thought, and questioning easy distinctions between the deliverances of faith and reason.
How the books on digital literary studies are proliferating, let me count the ways. Within the single- year period at which I am writing, Ted Underwood’s long-awaited Distant Horizons will be out with Chicago; Roopika Risam’s New Digital Worlds will have been published with Northwestern; Punctum Books will have brought us Dorothy Kim and Jesse Stommel’s Disrupting the Digital Humanities; and I will have added to the noise with Close Reading with Computers, at Stanford, to name just a few examples. i It is onto such a crowded dancefloor that Andrew Piper’s Enumerations:
This paper takes a backward glance to a pre-Enlightenment age, when ‘unreasoned sensorial data’ was accepted as part and parcel of everyday life. It touches on the unquestioning belief in the supernatural power of holy relics, exemplified here by a ‘miraculous’ event brought about by a sacred fragment from the head of Saint Andrew the Apostle (first century AD). 2 The occasion was orchestrated by Pope Pius II, the learned humanist Aeneas Silvius Piccolomini (b.1405-1464); the setting, the village of his birth, Corsignano, which he renamed Pienza, after himself. 3 As well as thus creating a memorial for posterity, the buildings and streets of Pienza - indeed also the surrounding countryside - provided the scenography for his ultimate foundational act, the performance of religious ritual in time and space, lifted onto a cosmographical plane by the endowment of the relic on the occasion of a holy feast day falling at the autumnal equinox.
Andrew. I found the living conditions cramped and difficult. We were housed in an oil rig workers’ building with four men to a two man room. The air conditioning meant that infection was rife and everyone caught each other’s illnesses. I had a knee that was badly damaged and needed surgery after the tour and this made things difficult for me. Then there was a time when Argentinian Paratroopers were dropped near our position at Port Stanley. I was sent to guard the troop offices by myself whilst the troop remained in a position a few hundred yards away. I watched as shapes moved across the field in front of me, but they wanted to go past my position. There would have been about thirty of them, with a machine gun and all I had was my rifle. I remained very still and did not give my position away or I would probably have been shot.
Andrew McMichael qualified in Medicine before doing a PhD in Immunology with Ita Askonas and Alan Williamson in the 1970s. His research during this time and later work done in his group has made a major contri- bution to our understanding of T-cell-mediated immunity against viral infections. Initially he worked on the immune response to influenza, but latterly studying the T cell re- sponse against HIV has been a major focus, and his group has designed and tested two candidate HIV vaccines in phase I clinical trials. Based through most of his research career in Oxford, he was knighted in 2008 for services to medical sciences, and has just completed 12 years as Director of the Weatherall Institute of Molecular Medicine. In this 30 th year since the discovery of HIV as the cause of AIDS, we asked Sir Andrew to give us his per- sonal perspective on the progress towards a vaccine.
Of the endless billions of images our brains register in a life-time, only a handful stay with us. They haunt our imagination, in ways that are almost unaccountable. These constitute art. While we recognize them intuitively, we are hard pressed to explain them or to explain why most of the images we see or hear make hardly any impression on us at all. No amount of special pleading on behalf of any of these orphaned images makes barely any difference either. Ask record pluggers or any of the vast army of arts marketers. Even the most neglected great works will find a place belatedly in the pantheon, while most of what pretends to art invariably ends up in oblivion. So what is it that makes that tiny handful of images that we recognize as art, and that abide with us through life, art after all? Why that handful, and not others? Why is art so unjust in favoring so few? Andrew Benjamin is one of those rare critics who has some very illuminating things to say about this matter. His close observations of artworks yield some exceptional insights. He can explain why certain works function as art in a way that most works aspiring to that status do not. In other words, he explains the cruel selectivity of the artworld.
Andrew was the only redeeming feature about this marathon event—a life raft that would stop Luke from sinking into a mire of aunties and babies and toddlers and pain-in-the-neck cousins who think they know everything about fishing. He could go exploring with Andrew. Andrew had a detailed map of the forest area around the lake and further beyond into the numerous hills and gullies scored by rivers and small streams. The novelty of Andrew’s metal detector was never far from Luke’s mind
Green’s fascinating ‘Black mammy’ paper deserves to take its place within an inspiring network of ‘race’-conscious psychoanalytic re-inscriptions which run parallel to Geller’s (2008) ‘circumcisions’ project and Kuriloff’s (2014) Third Reich-focused excavation of post-war developments. This network – landmark members of which include Altman (2009), Kovel (1970), Lowe (2014) and White (2002) – analyses the