English and Philosophy

This study focuses on the imagery of youth and old age in the plays of Euripides, especially the Suppliant Women, considering frequently used words in each play according to a formula developed by Guiraud. The study identifies a motif, the rejuvenation theme, an elaborate interaction between young and old, in the Suppliant Women and in: Alcestis, Heraclidae, Andromache, Hecabe, and Heracles. The difference between the use of neos (young, new) in the Suppliant Women and in the other plays is statistically significant. This word helps Euripides contrast two different kinds of youth: the fearful, rash, and animalistic (Theban); and that which has been properly schooled and led (Athenian). The greatest ground in the Suppliant Women for praising Athens is in her treatment of the young as a politically valuable force.

In this paper we explore the perception of Borges’ The Garden of the Forking Paths by American, Hungarian and Italian university students, with the aim of seeing: affective reaction, appreciation of text properties, meaning assignment, perception of the protagonist and the author and attitudes toward those from other cultures. Borges’ text was appropriate to disclose common ways of understanding practiced by these so-called ‘naïve’ (not expert) readers. The story is a brand of modern fiction which eschews traditional psychological elements, a de-personalized kind of narration. All the same, these readers tended to personalize the characters and action in the story. Our findings indicate that, regardless of their culture, readers try to shape their reading experience toward producing a simultaneous understanding of their inner and external worlds while interpolating a realistic frame into a (post)modern narrative.

Toward the end of Euripides' Electra, the main characters reach what they have taken to be their goal: revenge for the murder of Agamemnon. Yet after the murder of Clytemnestra, the chorus, Ürestes, and Electra seem horrified at their deed (1168-1237)1). The brother and sister) vividly recall the details of matricide (1206-1225) and recognize that their deed has altered their place in the universe (1194-1200). Ürestes faults Apollo while Electra, who has been fiercely resolute throughout, blames herself. The chorus, which has earlier condemned Clytemnestra and hoped to see her punished, blood gushing from her neck (484-6), now pities the dead queen and, for the first and only time, turns on Electra and condemns her deed (1226). The charac-

The scene: A sunny Sunday afternoon in Copenhagen in late Ja n u a ry of 1850. Four men, deeply immersed in conversation, are strolling through Fre d e r i k s b e r g Pa rk. They are well known to each other, two of them, Johannes Climacus and Anti-Climacus, appear to be related to each other, although the relation is obviously strained and somewhat cool. An elderl y, noble friend, Johannes de silent i o, is also among the group which is led by the ever watchful Vigilius Ha u f n i e n s i s , a man who always has his finger on the pulse of the city.

Ethics education is currently of major concern in higher education and in engineering in particular. There are many reasons for this, such as the seeming increase of cheating and plagiarism among students. Simultaneously, the level of trust in public and private institutions, in terms of the honesty and integrity of those in leadership, is dwindling. For engineers, whose occupation allows them potential for positive or negative societal impacts, it is critical that their decisions involve sound ethical judgment. Despite this obvious need, the amount of time given to ethics in an engineering curriculum is minimal. With all the knowledge and skills needed in engineering, it seems as if there is neither time nor space to teach ethics. Consequently, the results are predictable. During a recent meeting of engineering students, the students were asked what kinds of ethical questions they encountered at work or in their studies. The majority indicated they had never encountered any ethical...

Alex Kudera's recent novel, Auggie's Revenge, is set in the same academic limbo in which his earlier Fight for Your Long Day is set, and there are even links to its protagonist Cyrus Duffleman there, but the focus in some ways is very different, and oddly prescient of the recent American elections. Michael Vittinger, who does the majority of the narration and is the apparent protagonist of this novel, is an adjunct professor of philosophy-that is, a part-time non-tenure track universitylevel teacher-in one of the universities which Duffleman had commuted to and from in Long Day. In fact, Michael-known primarily, when referred to at all by other characters, as "Prof"-mentions that he used to share an office with Duffleman and a number of other adjuncts. In another instance, he mentions Duffleman's flatulence. Obviously, this social realm is in the literary historical mode that Northrop Frye called the Ironic, in which the characters, far from being Mythic-mode gods, Romance-mode supernatural beings, High Mimetic-mode royalty, or Low Mimetic-mode average people, are subhumans. Indeed, one is reminded of the "hemorrhoidal" clerk Akaky Akakievich from Gogol's short story "The Overcoat," or of the ambitionless Bartleby from Melville's short story "Bartleby the Scrivener." That is to say that Kudera's examination of the powerlessness of the contemporary academic underclass in American universities has deep roots in literary realism. There are four primary characters in this tale of twisted revenge: Michael; the titular Auggie, who is a shady grifter that Michael both admires and distrusts; Michael's love interest Melony; and Jonny, another grifter who, being older than the others, believes himself to be wiser, and therefore is the éminence grise of the trio (this group doesn't include Melony until later in the novel). All four of these characters take turns as narrators. Michael, or "Prof," is, like Cyrus Duffleman, overworked and underpaid, and even though, unlike the Duffer, has actually completed a

Alex Kudera's recent novel, Auggie's Revenge, is set in the same academic limbo in which his earlier Fight for Your Long Day is set, and there are even links to its protagonist Cyrus Duffleman there, but the focus in some ways is very different, and oddly prescient of the recent American elections. Michael Vittinger, who does the majority of the narration and is the apparent protagonist of this novel, is an adjunct professor of philosophy-that is, a part-time non-tenure track universitylevel teacher-in one of the universities which Duffleman had commuted to and from in Long Day. In fact, Michael-known primarily, when referred to at all by other characters, as "Prof"-mentions that he used to share an office with Duffleman and a number of other adjuncts. In another instance, he mentions Duffleman's flatulence. Obviously, this social realm is in the literary historical mode that Northrop Frye called the Ironic, in which the characters, far from being Mythic-mode gods, Romance-mode supernatural beings, High Mimetic-mode royalty, or Low Mimetic-mode average people, are subhumans. Indeed, one is reminded of the "hemorrhoidal" clerk Akaky Akakievich from Gogol's short story "The Overcoat," or of the ambitionless Bartleby from Melville's short story "Bartleby the Scrivener." That is to say that Kudera's examination of the powerlessness of the contemporary academic underclass in American universities has deep roots in literary realism. There are four primary characters in this tale of twisted revenge: Michael; the titular Auggie, who is a shady grifter that Michael both admires and distrusts; Michael's love interest Melony; and Jonny, another grifter who, being older than the others, believes himself to be wiser, and therefore is the éminence grise of the trio (this group doesn't include Melony until later in the novel). All four of these characters take turns as narrators. Michael, or "Prof," is, like Cyrus Duffleman, overworked and underpaid, and even though, unlike the Duffer, has actually completed a

One of the most significant developments in the latter part of the 20th century and the first part of this new millennium has been the triumph of short-term over long-term thinking. We are increasingly a culture that looks neither to the past nor to the future, but only to the next “quarter,” or to the next Delphic pronouncement by Alan Greenspan. This cultural construction of time has given rise to social, political and personal problems of unprecedented magnitude. The short-term focus of contemporary American capitalism is causing us to behave, both individually and collectively, in an increasingly irrational and thus self-destructive manner. Ours is now the most violent, crime-ridden society in the industrialized world. Capitalism is sometimes blamed for this, yet there are other capitalist societies that do not suffer the same evils we suffer. I argue that we can learn from these societies how to correct some of the ills of our own system and in this way construct a new paradigm of the market, a paradigm for the new millennium, a more mature, rational version of capitalism that would focus on the long rather than the short term.