Thursday, October 31, 2019

Reliability and Fault Tolerance Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 2500 words

Reliability and Fault Tolerance - Essay Example Report also indicates that several patients suffered serious injuries during the accident. In fact, the Therac-25 accident has been described as the worst ever series of radiation accidents in more than three decades of accelerator medical history (Leveson 1995, p. 18). This paper seeks to present a detailed analysis of the Therac-25 radiation overdose accident in light of technologies and equipments involved, what caused the accident and its consequences. The essay will also explore measures that ought to have been taken to prevent the accident. The Therac-25 radiation overdose accident of between June 1985 and January 1987 has been described as the worst ever radiation accident in the history of medical accelerators. The accidents resulted from the radiation overdose caused by the Therac-25 therapy machine. Report indicates that at least six patients were overdosed in a span of about 2 years due to faults of the machine. Report indicates that the radiation overdose was several time s the normal therapeutic dose resulting in severe burns and death, in some cases (Leveson 1995, p. 18). The first complaint of an accident was reported on June 3, 1985, when a female patient was placed on a 10-MeV electron treatment to clavicle area. However, few minutes after turning on of the Therac-25 machine, the patient complained of extreme force of heat on the body. It is then that the patient complained of having been burned by the machine. ... Nevertheless, the company still failed to investigate whether Therac-25 burned the patients or not. Shortly afterwards, the patient developed reddening and swelling at the area treated by the machine. The pain increased to a level that shoulder began freezing as spasms continued to appear. The patient’s condition continued to worsen, clearly indicating that the patient had suffered from radiation (Nancy and Clark 1993, p.19). A second series of the accident occurred at Ontario Cancer Foundation in 1985 just a week after the first patient had been overdosed at Kennestone. Report indicates that the Therac-25 at the Hamilton clinic had been in use for about six months (Leveson, Turner and Sarin 1993). However, on July 26, 1985, a patient aged 40 years old visited the hospital for the treatment of carcinoma of the cervix. Leveson, Turner, and Sarin (1993) indicate that the Therac-25 machine shut down barely five minutes after activation. This time around, the machine indicated an â€Å"H-tilt† error message. It also displayed a â€Å"no dose† and ‘treatment pause† (Nancy and Clark 1993, p.19). Despite these warnings, the operator went ahead to press the proceed button expecting the Therac-25 machine to deliver the right does this time around. Despite this being, a normal procedure since the machine had shown such faults before the machine still failed to operate. The procedure was repeated several time, but the machine showed suspend. The operator continued with the treatment after which the patient began complaining of a burning sensation on the treatment area, which she described as an â€Å"electric tingling shock† (Leveson, Turner and Sarin 1993). Other patients were successfully treated that day without accidents. The

Tuesday, October 29, 2019

The Madding Crowd Essay Example for Free

The Madding Crowd Essay Obsession is prevalent as a theme in Far from the Madding Crowd. Obsession carries the plot and creates action between the characters. In this essay, I will examine how the characters advance the plot through their obsessive behaviour towards each other. Far from the Madding Crowd is by Thomas Hardy and was first published in a series in the Cornhill Magazine in 1873. This can be seen by the large amount of short chapters, often with titles that make the reader wonder what the chapter contains, such as ‘The Following March – â€Å"Bathsheba Boldwood†Ã¢â‚¬â„¢. It can also be seen in the cliff-hangers they often end with, encouraging the reader to buy the next magazine to read it. The title comes from ‘Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard’ a poem by Thomas Gray, a favourite of Hardy’s poets. The complete line seventy-three reads: ‘Far from the madding crowd’s ignoble strife’, describing how life in towns is full of petty conflicts, whereas life in the countryside is more simple and therefore, better. Although the novel does often describe the beauty of the countryside, a part of England Hardy believed to be disappearing because of the industrial revolution, it may also be ironic, because the emotional turmoil, often caused by obsession, that the main characters go through is certainly not calm. The novel starts with Oak as he sees ‘an ornamental spring waggon’ with Bathsheba inside. She unwraps a ‘small swing looking-glass’ and gazes at herself, without showing any ‘necessity whatever’ for looking. Oak comments that ‘the greatest of [her faults]’ is she is obsessed with her own beauty. This vanity is continued for the majority of the book. An example of this is when Bathsheba has learnt sheep ‘have broken fence’ and eaten young clover. Hardy mentions that she was wearing a ‘rather dashing velvet dress’, which was ‘carefully put on before a glass’. It is this negative characteristic of Bathsheba which will cause her such misfortune later in the novel. Bathsheba’s obsession with herself drives her to ‘direct [a] missive to Boldwood’. This is because she feels piqued after Liddy tells he ‘didn’t turn his head’ in church that day, despite ‘his pew [being] exactly opposite [Bathsheba’s]’. Boldwood’s ‘nervous excitability’ about the fact that someone may want to marry him makes him first obsessed with finding the writer of the note, and then Bathsheba herself. This is reflected in the sunrise described the day after Boldwood receives the valentine. It symbolizes a strong new feeling in Boldwood of love, which Hardy likens to ‘a red and flameless fire’. The more she tells him she has ‘not fallen in love with’ him, the more he desires her. His true ‘mental derangement’ is revealed towards the end of the novel, when an ‘extraordinary collection’ of packages is found, ‘labelled â€Å"Bathsheba Boldwood†Ã¢â‚¬â„¢. Boldwood’s character shows obsession, in his case with Bathsheba, to be unhealthy and a trait of a crazed person. Bathsheba’s infatuation with Troy is another important obsession in Far from the Madding Crowd. Her name also hints at her potentiality to be tempted, the Bathsheba in the Bible being tempted to commit adultery by David. She confesses her feelings to Liddy, telling her she loves Troy ‘to very distractions and misery and agony’. However, Hardy describes Troy as ‘moderately truthful towards men but to women lied like a Cretan’. Therefore the reader knows the relationship is doomed from the start, being built on untruthfulness and obsession. This is hinted at through the song that Bathsheba sings before Troy comes to Weatherbury: On the banks of Allan Water. It tells of a soldier’s love of a miller’s daughter, which is found to be untrue. Like the soldier in the song, Troy’s love is false too. After marrying Bathsheba, Troy develops an obsession with gambling. Although the one obsession that does not move the plot along, it instead shows the mistake that Bathsheba made by giving in to her obsession to marry him. She calls their marriage a ‘mistake’ and laments that her once ‘independent and spirited’ self has ‘come to this’. The start of the chapter takes place on ‘Yalbury Hill’, a ‘steep long ascent’. This may denote the uphill struggle the couple were going through at that point. Troy’s shallow nature is also shown through is lack of care for Fanny, the girl who Troy breaks promise with to marry despite impregnating her. He does not want her when she is alive, but is obsessed with her when she is dead. His lack of care is shown when Fanny asks him ‘when shall [they] be married’, and after she is gone, Troy and his fellow soldiers mock her with a ‘low peal of laughter’, demonstrating his disregard for Fanny’s wants. This is shown by Fanny being described as a ‘little spot’; a mild annoyance to Troy. Troy is shown to be insensitive, Hardy often referring to him as ‘the wall’ rather than ‘Troy’ when he speaks. The wall is described as being blacker ‘than the sky’. Hardy compares him to the wall to show the reader he is a ‘bad, black-hearted man’, which Troy admits to, much later in the novel. In comparison, when Troy sees Fanny’s corpse for the first time, he feels an ‘indefinable union of remorse and reverence’ and declares she is his ‘very, very wife’. His full obsession is shown the next day, when he is told to be ‘almost oblivious of’ Bathsheba and to not think ‘there was any element of absurdity’ in spending the whole day tending to Fanny’s grave. Like Boldwood, his obsession has caused him to become temporally mentally deranged. The consequences of the characters’ obsessions come to a climax in Chapter 53. Boldwood’s and Troy’s behaviours result in tragic fates, Boldwood having ‘cocked’ and ‘discharged’ a gun at Troy, while Boldwood being sentenced to ‘life imprisonment’ after being shown to not be ‘morally responsible’ for his actions. Their fortunes are because of their dangerous obsessions with women they cannot have: Boldwood with Bathsheba who does not love him and Troy with Fanny after she has died. The results of giving into obsessions are reflected in the natural events which occur throughout the novel. An example of this is when Bathsheba’s flock ‘[get] into a field of young clover’. Here, they are giving into their impulses, before paying the consequences by ‘getting blasted’: being so bloated their stomachs expand which causes death. This is a mirroring of Bathsheba’s decision to give in to her obsession and marry Troy, despite Gabriel Oak’s heeding. Later in the novel, we see the disastrous consequences. Throughout the novel, the only character that remains above these obsessions is Gabriel Oak. Hardy illustrates this through his name: Gabriel, an angel, often said to be the spirit of truth, and Oak, a strong and sturdy tree, not often affected by weather around it. After Bathsheba tells Oak she ‘[does] not love [him]’, he resolves to ‘give his days and nights’ to Ecclesiastes. Ecclesiastes states that ‘everything is meaningless’, and this belief that Gabriel takes on is shown in his ability to move on quickly from distressing events. For example, when Bathsheba demands him to leave her farm. In this situation, Oak does not protest but says ‘calmly’: ‘Very well’. It may be argued that Oak is obsessed with Bathsheba because he loves her strongly. Hardy describes Oak’s desire of Bathsheba as a ‘beautiful thread’ that he did not want to break, rather than a ‘chain’ which was impossible to. However, his ability to control his desires separates him from Boldwood’s obsessive behaviour. This is shown when Bathsheba finally gives in to Boldwood’s harassing and agrees to ‘marry [Boldwood] in six years’, despite ‘burst[ing] out crying’. Here, Boldwood lets his obsessive love of Bathsheba stop her from being happy, whereas Oak would rather Bathsheba was happy without him rather than her being unhappy and with him. Because of this, he is rewarded by having a ‘private, secret, plainest wedding’ with Bathsheba. Bathsheba’s character also changes. This is epitomized at the end of the book, when ‘Bathsheba [smiles]’ rather than ‘laughed readily’ at one of the villager’s jokes. This shows she has learnt from her experiences that it is not a good idea to get carried away with your emotions, fuelled by obsession. So to conclude, obsession can be found throughout Far from the Madding Crowd, in the characters, the plot and even the landscape. It is a main cause of the drama in the story by impelling the character’s conflicts. Obsession is an essential theme in Far from the Madding Crowd.

Saturday, October 26, 2019

A postcolonial critique of liberal peacekeeping theory

A postcolonial critique of liberal peacekeeping theory Northern Statism at the Margins:   A postcolonial critique of liberal peacekeeping theory. Today, ‘humanitarian intervention or so-called ‘muscular peacekeeping occurs in contexts known as ‘complex emergencies, which combine elements of civil war, state collapse, human rights violations, ‘criminality and humanitarian crisis.   Often, local agents have formed vested interests connected to external powers, which induce them to reproduce situations of emergency.   Mark Duffield aptly refers to the ‘security-development nexus, in which global assemblages of crisis management are connected to the local reproduction of crisis.   This nexus deploys peacekeeping and peacebuilding as alternatives to recognising the impact of neoliberalism and imperialism on development (****).   Duffields analysis resonates with the idea of crisis-management in the work of Gayatri Spivak (1990: 97-8), who portrays crisis as a constant situation in a postcolonial world where the North constantly wards off the traumatic effects of colonialism.   While clear fro m official documents, this status of responses to the South as crisis management is not apparent in the fantasmatic discourse of public pronouncements and media coverage.   In this context, it becomes crucial to the critique of colonial power to simultaneously see the process of crisis management and its ideological construction to repress the colonial trauma.   An examination of liberal theories of peacekeeping must show their complicity in both these processes. This paper will pursue an approach of ‘seeing together in relation to liberal theory, by reading this theory together with the intervention in Somalia.   It will thus seek to draw out the complicities between false and oppressive assumptions in theory and colonial actions (and failures) in practice.   The main purpose of this paper will be to establish that liberal and instrumentalist peacekeeping theorists share a number of colonial assumptions.   While drawing on postcolonial studies, the approach will also engage with ethnography, anarchism and cultural studies as means of providing multiple angles from which to see situations.   Multivocity is deployed to approximate a complex situation by viewing it from a number of different directions at once, each viewpoint being taken as an incomplete perspective.   Postcolonial theory will here be shadowed firstly by Richard J.F. Days anarchist critique of liberalism, to demonstrate the complicity and interchangeability of c olonial and statist standpoints.   Secondly, it will be traced through reflections on the intervention in Somalia by anthropologists and postcolonial theorists.   While recognising the danger of epistemological violence in the Northern anthropologists representation of the Other, such accounts are useful in exposing the structural gap between the theoretical framing of the situation and the situation as it appears from a more nuanced engagement.   There are doubtless also gaps between the anthropologists reconstruction and the immanent discourse of everyday life, but for the purposes of this paper it is necessary only that the anthropological account be closer to this discourse than is that of the normative theorists.   The article focuses on three related liberal theorists: Nicholas Wheeler, C.A.J. Coady and Fernando Tesà ³n.   The theorists discussed here are similar in their general frame, though varying in the degree of subtlety with which they express it.   Coady offers a more subtle theory that the other authors, but his subtlety supplements rather than overriding the performative effectivity of liberal discourse.   In this article, we treat them as part of a single discourse, and trace their colonial logic through a series of five interlinked assumptions which can be traced through all the theorists discussed. 1. Northern privilege as universalism The first problematic assumption is the view that a desituated Northern agent can assert and establish the content of a universal ethics.   Most often this is constructed in opposition to a straw-man of relativism.   It is not, however, the universalist stance which is most crucial to their colonial status.   Rather, it is the fact that they believe universally true positions can be established by reference solely to Northern experiences and values.   Their approach is thus colonial in foreclosing the need for dialogue with difference.   Northern standpoints are privileged by means of a separation between marked and unmarked terms.   The unmarked term of the civilised world becomes the exclusive referent for justifications of approaches to the ‘uncivilised other.  Ã‚   Hence, the ‘civilised world is ethically tautological: its relation to its Others is justified by its own values, which are the relevant referent because it is ‘civilised, a status it po ssesses by virtue of its values.   This reinforces the view that, despite the tenuousness of its moral realism, liberal cosmopolitanism is a paradigmatic ‘royal science, seeking to give a certain Law to its readers to provide a stable basis for moral order.   As Richard Day writes of Kymlicka, liberal theory produces ‘an utterance that does not anticipate a rejoinder (78).   The construction of monologism takes different forms in each theory.   Wheeler rests his account of the normative force of the duty to intervene on a liberal international relations (IR) perspective which is pitted mainly against the Realist view that states are incapable of normative concern.   His main concern is thus to show that normative restrictions, even if used or formulated in self-interested ways, can still be binding on states (2004: 4, 7, 24).   This sidesteps the question of how ethical positions should be reached, but has a symptomatic side-effect.   This construction of international normativity thus focuses on the emergence of normative communities among states (e.g. 2004: 23, 44).   Stateless societies can be the objects of intervention, but are excluded from the formation of the normative community which legitimates it, effectively relegated to terra nullius by the absence of a relevant international claimant not empty of people as ‘bare life, but e mpty of morally relevant agents, people who ‘matter as normative voices.   Things get no better when Wheeler briefly enters the field of discussion of how positions should be reached, rendering this process the exclusive province of the ‘values of civilized societies (2002: 303).   Hence, ‘civilised societies ask themselves if they are entitled to intervene; nobody thinks to ask the recipients.   In practice, this leads to a situation where the   UN believed that no consent was needed to intervene in Somalia due to the absence of a state able to give such consent (Wheeler 2002: 183).   Fernando Tesà ³n offers the most unreconstituted variant of the universalist global-local.   He adopts a strongly realist moral ontology in which moral truths are absolutely independent of their origins (Tesà ³n 2001:12).   Having asserted ontologically that such truths exist, he nevertheless provides no clear guide to the epistemological means by which they can be known.   But what he does not say, he shows by his performance as speaker of ethical ‘truths.   His reference is to a Northern in-group connected to the dominant fantasy frame, as for instance when he writes of ‘the shock we felt over the Srebrenica massacre (2001: 44).   The type of subject who felt shock at this juncture is of a certain type: tuned into the global media, experiencing the events of Bosnia from the outside, contained in a sphere of safety in which such events are shocking rather than horrifically quotidian and predictable.   This ‘we excludes by gradations the Srebrenica vic tims themselves, whose emotions were likely much sharper than mere shock; the solidarity activists, Muslim and secular, who would be angry but unsurprised at the Serbian atrocity and the UN betrayal; and the other recipients of intervention, the Somalis, Rwandans and so on, whose reactions remain opaque.   Like Tesà ³n, Coady is a moral realist who views ethics as a form of knowledge allowing universal claims and derived from human nature (2002: 13-14, 18).   This position is counterposed to a simplified view of relativism (2002: 14), and again, its ontological firmness is undermined by its silence on epistemology.   No method is provided for distinguishing in practice between relative and universal positions, though such judgements are most definitely made in practice (2002: 16).   Again, it seems that the universal truth is established solely by Northern agents.   One establishes truth through the ‘courts of reason, feeling, experience and conscience, which may or may not produce an obvious answer (2002: 14).   Being internal to the desituated Northern observer, these ‘courts do not require any accountability to non-Northern Others, or any kind of reflexivity.  Ã‚   A Northern subject-position is introduced performatively.   Hence for instance, reactions of Northern media viewers are deemed facts of human nature (2002: 29, 36).   Hence it is clear that, while Others are allowed to make claims in these courts, but the judge remains resolutely Northern.   In practice, such universalism, operating as a global-local, provides space for linguistic despotism.   Deleuze and Guattari have argued that the persistence of despotism after the end of absolutist states relies on the despotic functioning of transcendentalist language (Anti-Oedipus 207).   In peacekeeping discourse, this transcendentalism is expressed especially in the binary between civilised and uncivilised, which creates the conditions for sovereignty and states of exception.   One can thus think of peacekeeping violence in terms of law-founding violence, a suspension of ethics in the creation of a statist order.   Hence, Hardt and Negri are right in arguing that ‘[m]odern sovereignty†¦ does not put an end to violence and fear but rather puts an end to civil war by organizing violence and fear into a coherent and stable political order.   Peacekeeping in the dominant discourse is the violence which forms a bridge between ‘anarchy (the demonised Other) and liberal-democracy, cutting through complexity with the simplicity of brute force (Debrix 110).   The effects of this discursive asymmetry are made clear in Sherene Razacks investigation of peacekeeping violence.   Razacks book focuses on instances of torture and murder by Canadian peacekeepers in Somalia, and accounts for such violence as expressions of discourses of superiority (10).  Ã‚   Razack argues that Canadian peacekeepers in Somalia committed atrocities because of their identity as agents of a civilised nation operating in a hostile, otherworldly context.   They use such categories to construct an ‘affective space of belonging (24).   The identity of Canadian peacekeepers as citizens of a civilised nation lead to the denial of personhood to Somali Others (Razack 9).   The stance as civilised outsiders leads to violence through the operation of a binary of civilised versus savage which is inherently racialised (13).   The civilisers are counterposed to the ‘dark corners of the earth in a narrative which places Northern peacekeepers outside history (12).  Ã‚   They are assigned the task of sorting out problems of Southern others at some risk to themselves (32).   ‘History is evacuated and the simplest of stories remains: more civilized states have to keep less civilized states in line (48).   Sites such as Somalia thus become viewed as utterly hostile, sites of absolute evil in which anarchy blurs with terrain and climate (15, 84).   Since the South is constituted as an inferior category, peacekeepers enter a space where their ability to relate to others humanity is impeded (54, 155).   Such black holes, or extraordinary spaces, become sites of exception and emergency (44).   Excluded from dialogue by the myth of its absolu te evil, the Other is taken to understand little but force (38-9, 93).   Canadian peacekeepers involved in abuses were acting on a narrative bearing little resemblance to their actual situation in a largely peaceful town (73).   They in effect went looking for enemies, scheming to lure and trap Somalis who were then assumed to fit stereotypes (79-81).   The narrative of imposing order amidst chaos creates conditions in which peacekeepers initiate conflict to provide a context in which to respond overwhelmingly and brutally.   Paradoxically, peacekeepers thereby often become unable even to keep the peace between themselves and their local hosts, let alone to impose it among locals.   2.   State as necessary; social order The second problematic grouping of assumptions concern the social role of the state.   Liberal theorists view the state as identical with or essential to society, and as something without which a decent life is impossible.   This is taken as a truism.   As Richard Day argues, liberal scholars systematically ignore arguments that stateless life might be preferable to life under the state, in an intellectual doubling of the move of liberal states to ruthlessly suppress movements aspiring to stateless life.   Despite their criticisms of particular state policies, liberals consistently think about social life from the standpoint of the state.   As Day writes, liberalism identifies with the state by adopting its subject-position (79).   This fixation on the state expresses itself normatively in the attachment of overriding significance to themes of order, security and stability.   For instance, the UN resolution on Somalia called for action ‘to restore peace, stability and law and order (cited Lyons and Samatar 34).   On the other side, metonymic slippage is established between terms like statelessness, lawlessness, anarchy, chaos and barbarism.   This conceptual conflation combines into a single concept at least four distinct phenomena:   state collapse as such, the collapse of society (such as everyday meanings and relations), the existence of a situation of civil war, and the existence of a set of ‘lawless actions similar to criminality (such as murder, torture, rape, armed robbery and extortion).   This runs against the warnings of more informed empirical scholars who emphasise the need to disaggregate these phenomena (Menkhaus State Collapse 405, 407).   On an explanatory level, statist authors tend to attribute the other aspects of a complex emergency, particularly social conflict and ‘lawless actions, to the absence of a state (or of the right kind of state).   Hence, they fail to distinguish between peaceful and warring stateless societies, or between ‘lawless stateless societies and those with some degree of diffuse ‘governance.  Ã‚   A society such as Somalia is stateless, hence necessarily beset by civil war and social predation.   As a result, it is assumed that the response to problems related to civil war and ‘lawlessness must be resolved by the restoration or construction of a proper state.   An absence is taken as the explanation for various effects, with no sense of what specific forces cause these effects.   The possibility that the worst problems in complex emergencies could be mitigated instead by moving towards a more peaceful and less predatory type of statelessness a possibility at the forefront of the empirical literature on Somalia for example is simply ruled out in advance.   Also excluded from the frame is the need to establish and engage with contingent causes of intergroup conflict.   These themes can be traced through the work of the authors under discussion.   Wheeler deems ‘state breakdown and a collapse of law and order a sufficient cause for intervention (2002: 34).   In referring to situations in which ‘the target state had collapsed into lawlessness and civil strife (2002: 2), he clearly conflates statelessness, ‘lawlessness and civil war: state collapse itself means ‘lawlessness and civil strife; this is what a society becomes when a state collapses.   Furthermore, ‘lawlessness and the ‘breakdown of authority are taken to be the cause of famine in Somalia (2002: 176, 206), notwithstanding the continued absence of state authority in the famine-free years since 1994.   Wheeler also rather strangely refers to state-building as the removal of ‘the gun from political life (2002: 306).   States are not known for their lack of guns.   Writing in 2002 by which time Somalia had experienced a stateless peace for nearly a decade   Wheeler argues that ‘[d]isarming the warlords and establishing the rule of law were crucial in preventing Somalia from falling back into civil war and famine (2002: 190).   What Somalia needed, he decided, was a ‘law-governed polity (2002: 173).   To this end, he advocates ‘the imposition of an international protectorate that could provide a security framework for years, if not decades, to come (2002: 306), effectively the recolonisation of the country.   In constructing criteria for the success of an intervention, Wheelers position is again ambiguous.   His exact demand is that a successful intervention establish ‘a political order   hospitable to the protection of human rights (2002: 37).   Yet when he discusses Somalia, and faces the problem that humanitarian relief and state-building were contradictory goals, he takes a pro-statebuilding position (2002: 189-90).   This can be interpreted to mean that he assumes that only a statist order could possibly be hospitable to human rights, notwithstanding the appalling human rights record of the previous Somali state.   Yet there is no reason why local polities could not be assessed in terms of human rights (Menkhaus and Pendergast, 2).   In Tesà ³ns account, a Hobbesian position on state collapse, including the identity of state collapse, societal collapse, ‘lawlessness and civil war, is explicitly advocated.   ‘Anarchy is the complete absence of social order, which inevitably leads to a Hobbesian war of all against all (2001: 7).   People are thus prevented from conducting ‘meaningful life in common (2001: 7).   It is clear that state and society are so closely linked here as to be indistinguishable; it is left unclear if the ‘absence of social order means the absence merely of the state or of other forms of social life.   Given that contexts such as Somalia do not in fact involve the collapse of all social life, it must be assumed that the former is being inferred from the latter.   We see once more the reproduction of the conflation of statelessness with a range of problems, in apparent ignorance of the possibility of other kinds of statelessness.   The solution is taken to be pervasive imposition of liberal social forms.   Humanitarian aid simply addresses ‘the symptoms of anarchy and tyranny, whereas building ‘democratic, rights-based institutions addresses a central cause of the problem and does ‘the right thing for the society (2001: 37).   As a result, situations of anarchy necessarily lead to barbaric interpersonal behaviour which is seriously unjust, causing a ‘moral collapse of sovereignty and a loss of the right to self-government (2001: 2-3).   The difference between statist societies and stateless societies is not, he tersely declares, a matter of legitimate dispute.   The difference is a matter of what all ‘reasonable views will accept and what they will not (2001: 13-14).   This boundary reproduces the tautological ethical stance of the Northern agent.   While emotively related to the extreme effects of civil war and predatory violence, this position in effect declares any stateless society to be beyond the pale regardless of whether it displays these characteristics.   The gesture of Schmittian sovereignty, deciding on the exclusion of those deemed unreasonable, is particularly dangerous given that intervention happens in contexts where the majority of local agents show such characteristi cs.   Peacekeepers primed to enter situations deemed uncondonable are doomed to violent contact with local agents (including ‘victims who do condone them, because their very frame is constructed to exclude engagement.   Again in Coadys work, the assumption that states exist for benevolent purposes is prominent.   States are viewed as responsible for the protection of citizens (2002: 11-12).   Intervention can legitimately be aimed at ‘failed or profoundly unstable states (2002: 21), and has the goals of ‘ensuring political stability and enduring safety (2002: 30), liberal code for state-building.   It is not unusual in peacekeeping theory to find a distinction drawn between ordinary human rights (identified with concrete violations) and extraordinary human rights (identified with the collapse of legitimate state power), a binary which ethically voids the very concept of rights by identifying its actualisation with a particular social order.   In other varieties, one finds it in distinctions between truly shocking and merely wrong forms of violation, between ‘extremely barbarous and mundane abuses, or between law and order as a primary goal of intervention and human security as a secondary luxury (see Coady 2002: 16, 28, Tesà ³n 2001: 37, Walzer Just and Unjust Wars 108, Lund 2003: 28-9, 47-8, Paris 2004: 47-8).   This serves to put the denial of rights, or of the state, in the South (or rather, its crisis-points) in an incommensurable category distinct from human rights abuses in and by the North (and its Southern allies).   With human rights deemed impossible in a stateless society, rights-violation is excused as ‘law-creating violence, the creation of an order where rights become possible, but which does not require prefigurative recognition of rights in the present, a position not dissimilar to the telos of socialism in Stalinist ideology.   The declaration of justice and rights as the purpose of the state sits uncomfortably with the kind of state likely to result in practice from statebuilding in contexts such as Somalia.   Clearly, Tesà ³n has transmuted his normative position on what states should do into an essentialist position on what states are, which leaves him with a project of building a state per se, without regard for whether the project or the resultant state serves the ascribed goals.  Ã‚   In the meantime, the patently obvious existence of customary rights in societies such as Somalia is conveniently ignored.   Presumably, as rights of the ‘uncivilised, these rights do not count as fully ‘human.   In practice, the effects of such a statist frame are to disengage peacekeepers from populations they are supposed to be rescuing, constructing them as epistemologically-privileged bearers of a project of social reconstruction which is in the interests, regardless of the wishes, of the locals.   This framework produces a paradigmatically colonial arrogance.   Peacekeepers misperceived unfamiliar institutions as an absence of institutions, leading to racist effects.   Empirical scholars have approached Somalia with a frame distorted by such statism, as when Lyons and Samatar portray the country as a ‘Hobbesian world without law or institutions, divided between ‘the most vulnerable and ‘the most vicious (Lyons and Samatar 7; c.f. Makinda ****).   In practice, the Somali intervention was framed by Northern insecurities about ‘disorder in the context of global neoliberalism.   According to one cultural analyst, the intervention was an attempt to suture th e field of global disorder, acting out a predetermined script in an attempt to create an appearance of fixed order, namely, neoliberalism as the end of history (Debrix 97-9).   This suture is necessary because of the gap separating neoliberal ideology from the actuality of global disorder (107).   It was to fail because an excess of uncontrollable images arising from local difference began to disempower the global order (Debrix 126).   In Somalia, peacekeepers found themselves in a society with very different assumptions about state power. According to Menkhaus, ‘there is perhaps no other issue on which the worldviews of external and internal actors are more divergent than their radically different understanding of the state (Menkhaus State Collapse 409).   ‘For many Somalis, the state is an instrument of accumulation and domination, enriching and empowering those who control it and exploiting and harassing the rest of the population (Menkhaus Governance 87).  Ã‚   Hence, statebuilding was misconceived as necessary for peacebuilding in a setting where it was virtually impossible.   Menkhaus and Pendergast argue that the ‘radical localization of politics in Somalia is often misunderstood as disorder and crisis, when in fact it is part of the functioning of local social life.  Ã‚   ‘The challenge to the international community is to attempt to work with this â€Å"stateless† pol itical reality in Somalia rather than against it.   It is a myth to see the intervention as rebuilding a state, since an effective state has never existed in Somalia (Menkhaus State Collapse 412).   Somalia has historically been resistant to the implantation of the state-form, and previous colonial and neo-colonial states, arising mainly as channels for global patronage flows, were caught between the extractive and despotic use of concentrated power by the clan which dominated the state and moves to balance against this excessive power by other clans.   Even such an artificial state has been made impossible by changing conditions (Menkhaus and Pendergast 2-3).   Attempts to rebuild a centralised state have exacerbated conflict between clan militias, which compete for the ‘potential spoils of such a state (Menkhaus and Pendergast 13).   With the capital viewed as the site or ‘house of state power, the battle for the state encouraged clan conflicts for control of the capital (Jan 2001: 81; )    Where state-building has occurred in postwar Somalia, it has been similarly marked by strong extractive and divisive tendencies (Lewis 81-3).   Hence, to favour stateb uilding in Somalia is to contribute to exacerbating conflict by taking stances between diffuse forces which favour some and disempower others.   In seeking local collaborators in building the state, the UN ended up favouring some clan militias against others (Rutherford 16, 23, 40-1).   On the other hand, empirical evidence does not confirm the view that peace required a strong state.   Statelessness as such did not cause civil war or social problems.   Until the 1980s, Somalia was extremely safe, despite or because of its weak state; the source of security was communal, not juridical (Menkhaus State Collapse 412).   Similarly, Somalia rapidly returned to peace after the UN departure, with conflict infrequent between 1995 and 2006 (Menkhaus Governance 87-8).   In part, this was due to the declining local influence of warlords inside their own clans.   Ameen Jan analyses the post-UN scenario as a revival of processes frozen by the intervention, which were already moving national power towards clans and clan power towards civilians (2001: 53-5).   Another apparent anomaly is that the de facto independent northwestern region of Somaliland successfully constructed peace and local political institutions with meagre resources, at the same time that expensive U N peace conferences were failing (Lewis ix-x).   This process succeeded because it arose from the grassroots and started with reconciliation on issues of contention, many of which were social issues such as buying off militia members and resolving land disputes (Lewis 91, 94-5; Menkhaus, Governance 91).   Hence, the causes of the civil war in parts of Somalia were contingent products of circumstances which are unlikely to recur (Menkhaus and Pendergast 7, 15).   Having started from the wrong premises, it is no surprise that the wrong conclusions were reached.   Successful peacebuilding in Somalia would involve a transition from a violent diffuse acephalous society to a peaceful diffuse acephalous society, whereas the colonial assumptions of peacekeepers instead sought to override the entire structure of Somali society as a means to construct their preferred form of order.   In practice, this obsession with order and interpellation of otherness as disorder expresses itself in reliance on hard power.   The UN and US sought to rely on technical and military power as a substitute for engagement in the context (Debrix 115, Wheeler 2002: 181, 205).   This tends to reproduce the very context posited by the Northern discourse.   Pieterse has argued that the emphasis on hard power in interventions reinforces or even creates rigid ethnic categories and authoritarian institutions, hence creating the conditions for humanitarian crisis. The emphasis on hard power stemming from the problematic of sovereignty effectively rendered peacebuilding impossible.   While local clan reconciliation conferences were more effective in practice, the UN approach focused on militia leaders, a process which tended to entrench their power and disaggregate them from their support-base (Jan 2001: 63).   This misrepresented their power through the frame of sovereignty.   Clan militias, like Clastrean chiefs, did not hold stable power.   They were speculative and temporary, and subject to rapid decomposition (Lewis 80, Menkhaus and Pendergast 4-5).   Lewis views the Somali militias as clan militias involved mainly in territorial conflicts (Lewis 75).   Far from dominating the context, militias depended on soft power within clans to a great degree, and were unable even to implement accords among themselves due to their limited influence over their clans (Menkhaus and Pendergast 4-5).   Clastres theory of warfare in indigenous societies, the source of the Deleuzian theory of war-machines, emphasises the role of intergroup alliances and balancing as quasi-intentional means of warding off concentrated power and transcendentalism. Intergroup feuding expresses ‘the will of each community to assert its difference,‘[t]o assure the permanence of the dispersion, the parcelling, the atomization of the groups.   Such a situation of centrifugal forces is indeed typical of the kind of conflict settings which peacekeeping interventions target.   Somalis are predominantly nomads, and form the archetypal nomadic war-machines carrying out the diffusion of social power.   The frame applied from the North is, however, rather dangerous: the logic of the war-machine is misunderstood as a primal Hobbesian violence.   This sets peacekeepers up for colonial warfare.   The terminal crisis of the UN intervention arose from the redefinition of one of the two major allia nces of clan militias as an enemy.   Focused unduly on the person of General Aidid, the escalation arose following an attack on UN troops which was interpreted as a violation of transcendental sovereignty, an attack on protected bodies of exceptional value.   In the local frame, however, it was reconfigured as horizontal warfare rather than vertical enforcement, and the UN became seen as the ‘sixteenth Somali faction (Jan 2001: 72).   Hence, it seems that an incapacity to think outside a narrowly statist frame was the source both of a violently colonial intervention, and of the constitutive unrealisability of the goals of the intervention.   It would seem that statism and colonialism intersect, with certain Southern societies judged as inferior for their lack of state forms.   This expresses the promotion of the Northern state, in spite of its increasing authoritarianism and colonial legacy, as an unmarked term to which the world should aspire.   Although it is outside the scope of this paper, it is also apparent that Southern states are typically pathologised as the wrong ‘type of state too corrupt, too contaminated by the dirty world of social life, insufficiently able to mobilise uncontested concentrated power or authority.   It is possible that the club of ‘real democracies, or ‘successful states, is actually a repetition of Fanons club of the civilised, held up as a goal for those w ho are constitutively excluded from it.   3.   Victims The third set of assumptions of such theories are concentrated in the figure of the victim.   The victim is a contradictory figure, for, while she is the quasi-absolute ethical referent of peacekeeping theory, the figure on whose behalf other ethical principles may be suspended, whose call is the source of an imp

Friday, October 25, 2019

Infidelity Essay -- Social Issues, Cheating, Mistress

Passionate instincts can overtake us, guilty feelings will wash over us, and paranoia will take control of us. Our body and mind propel us on a lustful, exciting, frightening bender as we take that one risk that could destroy everything. Since the beginning of man, humans have caved in to our polygamous nature through the act of infidelity, and men and woman have cheated on each other throughout history (Zur 2). However, different time periods and cultures have contrasting perceptions on adultery often depending on gender. Presently, when a socialite cheats on her partner, the news barely mentions the affair or focuses on her family life; in contrast, if an athlete partakes in extramarital activities with a mistress, the media will print it as the front page story. Yet, a person should learn life has not always been that way; as empires rise and fall, wars erupt, and civilizations die, society has changed their perceptions of social and cultural norms. A good way to see how cultu re changes over time is to read works from different eras since playwrights garner inspiration from their society and how people lived the bygone times. In ancient Greece, Medea, the sorceress, seeks revenge on her lover, Jason, who betrayed her when he married the princess of Corinth, Glauce; however, all the characters, excluding the chorus and Medea, behave nonchalantly about his infidelity because of their culture (Galens and Spampinato 180-181). Throughout his masterpiece, Medea, Euripides accurately depicts the ancient civilization's contrasting attitudes towards men's and women's adultery that differs from the present position of Western society. With their sexual endeavors, many Greek spouses destroyed the foundation of their marriages; y... ...ed the princess of Corinth; however, the characters, excluding the chorus, behave nonchalantly about his infidelity because they have been numbed by adultery in their culture. If Jason cheated on Medea in modern Manhattan with one of the richest socialites, modern society would respond very differently. Society would repeatedly chastise Jason much like they did with Tiger Woods and John Edwards, and Jason's heroic status would quickly diminish. Candidly, men and woman partaking in extramarital sexual rendezvous have never been a generational issues; the only change is the civilization’s view on adultery. Infidelity will constantly occur as humans pretend our species are supposed to be monogamous (Zur 2). We will have to fight our own natural instincts that attempt to take us on a shameful, exciting, frighting ride that could exterminate everything we own and love.

Wednesday, October 23, 2019

Response on Quote from “The Waiting Years” by Fumiko Enchi Essay

In Chapter 1, of â€Å"The First Bloom† of the book â€Å"The Waiting Years† by author Fumiko Enchi, (Fumiko, 2002) it was easy to identify the little girl as one who was so important amid the small pace of the town. Suga was going to dance †Plum Blossom in Spring† where all eyes would be on her.   She was going to be looked at and judged according to her dance that day, in her mind,   which set the atmosphere for tension and apprehension of what they would think about her recital and about Suga.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Suga seemed so innocent and she always maintained her respectful nature as she did as she walked toward the school teacher’s house and you could sense that this dance was going to be very important to Suga.   She remained respectable, as you think about her life with an impoverished family in a world of young girls who were selected as future bride’s.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   The setting in this piece of work was magnificent as I imagined the tiny house in this poor community.   The stage in the teacher’s house must have been so magical for Suga and for the other little girl who was already dancing when she arrived.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   I feel sorry for Suga as I understand that she and every other girl is always being looked at but for the recital, I think this is one time when she really does want to be noticed and for something other than being a girl who will be chosen for other things in life besides her dancing. I think that this quote offers a good look into the life of Suga and gives a vivid description of her life and surroundings. Enchi, Fumiko, (2002) The Waiting Years, Oxford University Press, p.24

Tuesday, October 22, 2019

Prehistoric Life During the Ordovician Period

Prehistoric Life During the Ordovician Period One of the lesser-known geologic spans in the earths history, the Ordovician period (448-443 million years ago) didnt witness the same extreme burst of evolutionary activity that characterized the preceding Cambrian period; rather, this was the time when the earliest arthropods and vertebrates expanded their presence in the worlds oceans. The Ordovician is the second period of the Paleozoic Era (542-250 million years ago), preceded by the Cambrian and succeeded by the Silurian, Devonian, Carboniferous and Permian periods. Climate and geography. For most of the Ordovician period, global conditions were as stifling as during the preceding Cambrian; air temperatures averaged about 120 degrees Fahrenheit worldwide, and sea temperatures may have reached as high as 110 degrees at the equator. By the end of the Ordovician, however, the climate was much cooler, as an ice cap formed on the south pole and glaciers covered adjacent landmasses. Plate tectonics carried the earths continents to some strange places; for example, much of what would later become Australia and Antarctica protruded into the northern hemisphere! Biologically, these early continents were important only insofar as their coastlines provided sheltered habitats for shallow-water marine organisms; no life of any kind had yet conquered land. Marine Life During the Ordovician Period Invertebrates. Few non-experts have heard of it, but the Great Ordovician Biodiversity Event (also known as the Ordovician Radiation) was second only to the Cambrian Explosion in its importance to the early history of life on earth. Over the course of 25 or so million years, the number of marine genera around the world quadrupled, including new varieties of sponges, trilobites, arthropods, brachiopods, and echinoderms (early starfish). One theory is that the formation and migration of new continents encouraged biodiversity along their shallow coastlines, although climatic conditions also likely came into play. On the other side of the evolutionary coin, the end of the Ordovician period marked the first great mass extinction in the history of life on earth (or, one should say, the first for which we have ample fossil evidence; there were certainly periodic extinctions of bacteria and single-celled life during the preceding Proterozoic Era). Plunging global temperatures, accompanied by drastically lowered sea levels, wiped out a huge number of genera, although marine life as a whole recovered fairly rapidly by the start of the ensuing Silurian period. Vertebrates. Practically all you need to know about vertebrate life during the Ordovician period is contained in the aspises, especially Arandaspis and Astraspis. These were two of the first jawless, lightly armored prehistoric fish, measuring anywhere from six to 12 inches long and vaguely reminiscent of giant tadpoles. The bony plates of Arandaspis and its ilk would evolve in later periods into the accoutrements of modern fish, further reinforcing the basic vertebrate body plan. Some paleontologists also believe that the numerous, tiny, worm-like conodonts found in Ordovician sediments count as true vertebrates; if so, these may have been the first vertebrates on earth to evolve teeth. Plant Life During the Ordovician Period As with the preceding Cambrian, evidence for terrestrial plant life during the Ordovocian period is maddeningly elusive. If land plants did exist, they consisted of microscopic green algae floating on or just underneath the surface of ponds and streams, along with equally microscopic early fungi. However, it wasnt until the ensuing Silurian period that the first terrestrial plants appeared for which we have solid fossil evidence.