Word: logics
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Scientific discoveries belong to the public as well as to science. What the public does with them is the responsibility of society as a whole. It is as absurd to blame scientists as it is to praise them for social phenomena. If we pursued that form of logic, we would find ourselves making Thomas Edison a national hero for describing the nature of electricity, and then trying him posthumously for the deaths of all people who were ever electrocuted...
...kept in separate rooms while they were being deprogrammed. Storey said that the deprogramming really consisted of simply pointing out the inconsistencies in the Divine Principle, the "Bible" of the Unification Church, and having ex-cult members tell their experiences to the women. Storey remembered that the pair's logic was "amazing." "They had an answer for everything," she said...
...maestro has become one of the most sought-after guest conductors in the U.S. Watching, the onlooker may wonder why: on the podium the man often resembles a stoned stork. Hearing his music is another matter: Tennstedt elicits a sound with the startling ring of rightness. Indeed, his musical logic may be the most profound since the late Otto Klemperer's. Yet as opposed to the monolithic stasis that sometimes afflicted Klemperer, Tennstedt's energy is a constant refreshment. Leading an epic Bruckner Seventh Symphony with the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra two weeks ago, or a steely, gleaming Prokofiev...
...three characters--"the shaman," "the first horse," and "the mother"--emerge and recede. The section motifs, derived from imporivsation directed by guest choreographer Aileen Passloff, are simple as well: huddling in a mass, journeying in a chain of linked arms, imitating birds and horses and animal-demons. Yet the logic of how one section plays off against the next is puzzling. What sort of beings are these--ancient creatures, spirits, dream images? It's easy to scoff at program notes that read, "In a sense it's a journey into ourselves"--until you lie awake recalling the shaman's grimacing...
Fizzles contains fewer jokes and suggests that Beckett's exhaustion with prose is more advanced than his boredom with drama. There are flashes of the precise, pedantic syntax that hilariously dismembered logic in such earlier novels as Murphy and Molloy, but the dominant mood is elegiac: "For an instant I see the sky, the different skies, then they turn to faces, agonies, loves, the different loves, happiness too, yes, there was that too, unhappily." It is a twilight thought, stated carefully enough to stand up to the pressures of Beckett's singular vision: happiness is hard to bear...