I don't mean this as a defense of Kaufmann, but Leiter's criticisms are almost universally exaggerated at best and completely unfair at worst. And while Anglo-American interpretations of Nietzsche, largely from within the analytict tradition, certainly dominate the literature now, that's as much because they dominate the literature period. Leiter's Nietzsche is a naturalist, obsessed with and dominated by contemporary scientist. This is convenient, coming from a bunch of philosophers in a naturalist-dominated philosophical tradition. Not saying that Nietzsche didn't have a naturalist streak, just that the history of Nietzsche scholarship is the history of people seeing what they want to see in Nieztsche, making it difficult not to be skeptical of this sort of convenience.
Also, it's clear Steorts has little knowledge of Schopenhauer (who played a big role in making Europeans pay attention to Eastern thought in the 19th century), in addition to Nietzsche. Though the Buddhist nonsense means he must have at least read about Parkes.
Also, whatever the scholarly worth of Kaufmann's translations, they remain the most fun to read. Oh, and I loved his intro to Buber as well.
You know, of course, that in the case of abortion, both parties, to the extent that a non-conscious bundle of semi-organized cells can be called a party, have their fists on the other's face, rendering the libertarian maxim useless. Of course, if we were to run with it, then your point about women already having made a choice would be easily dismissed (as it is on virtually any other grounds concerning will, freedom, or choice, to say nothing of practical realities -- does using birth control make the pregnancy resulting from failure different from those resulting from unprotected sex, morally?), because my choosing to step in front of you doesn't give you any more right to put your fist to my chin than you choosing to walk up to me does.
It's clear, then, that you are eliding certain complexities of the situation to score rhetorical points on top of your only non-sophistical argument, namely the one that begins from the premise that the fetus is a human life, and that the right to life that comes with that classification trumps the woman's right to make choices about her own body. This premise itself assumes conclusions about the nature of human life and its relation to personhood, or at least whether rights accrue to humans or to persons, but even if we accept the premise as it stands, and the conclusion about rights that you draw from it, we're still left with all sorts of difficulties for your slavery analogy. Both parties serve as slaves for the other equally well in the analogical mapping (especially when we consider that the woman's life may be at stake as well), for example. What's more, the woman's slavery can be considered to far outlast that of the fetus. Or, approaching it from a different direction, the slave and the slave owner could both exist without each other, and in the slave's case at least (one could argue in the owner's as well), the separate life would be preferable. In the case of abortion, at least pre-viability, no such option exists for the fetus. It is more analogous, in this sense, to a parasite (perhaps acquired from choosing to eat known risky food, or choosing to swim in known risky waters) than to a slave. Of course, this analogy too omits too much to lead to anything but sophistical reasoning, but it is no worse in this regard than yours.
@Aaron, Lord Jim is one of my favorite books, but if you want nested narratives, you have to read Melmoth the Wanderer (which, strangely enough, I just mentioned on Jason K's other blog, in a completely different context). In that book, there are narratives within narratives within narratives within narratives, and often the same narrative within a narrative within a narrative will have, over time, several nested narratives. At times, you have to stop and think to yourself, "OK, who's telling which of these stories right now?"
@Will, Ph? as a distinct dish is only about a century old, and is more similar to what Jason calls "cuisine bourgeoise" than to real Vietnamese peasant food, which was mostly just rice with occasional bits of meet or vegetable.
From what I can tell, main difference between east Asian or Pacific culture and French culture, with respect to Jason's points, is that rice replaces bread. There are other somewhat more subtle differences, in some areas, having to do with tribal cultures and the effects they have on the availability of food (those in hunter-gatherer societies tend to have hunted stuff and gathered stuff, e.g.), but for the most part, we don't eat hunter-gatherer dishes, because "hunter gatherer dishes" is borderline nonsensical.
At least, this is what I gather from the couple people I know who are historians of the far East.
On “The Man Who Pretended to Know Too Much”
I don't mean this as a defense of Kaufmann, but Leiter's criticisms are almost universally exaggerated at best and completely unfair at worst. And while Anglo-American interpretations of Nietzsche, largely from within the analytict tradition, certainly dominate the literature now, that's as much because they dominate the literature period. Leiter's Nietzsche is a naturalist, obsessed with and dominated by contemporary scientist. This is convenient, coming from a bunch of philosophers in a naturalist-dominated philosophical tradition. Not saying that Nietzsche didn't have a naturalist streak, just that the history of Nietzsche scholarship is the history of people seeing what they want to see in Nieztsche, making it difficult not to be skeptical of this sort of convenience.
Also, it's clear Steorts has little knowledge of Schopenhauer (who played a big role in making Europeans pay attention to Eastern thought in the 19th century), in addition to Nietzsche. Though the Buddhist nonsense means he must have at least read about Parkes.
Also, whatever the scholarly worth of Kaufmann's translations, they remain the most fun to read. Oh, and I loved his intro to Buber as well.
On “Abortion, slavery & personhood”
You know, of course, that in the case of abortion, both parties, to the extent that a non-conscious bundle of semi-organized cells can be called a party, have their fists on the other's face, rendering the libertarian maxim useless. Of course, if we were to run with it, then your point about women already having made a choice would be easily dismissed (as it is on virtually any other grounds concerning will, freedom, or choice, to say nothing of practical realities -- does using birth control make the pregnancy resulting from failure different from those resulting from unprotected sex, morally?), because my choosing to step in front of you doesn't give you any more right to put your fist to my chin than you choosing to walk up to me does.
It's clear, then, that you are eliding certain complexities of the situation to score rhetorical points on top of your only non-sophistical argument, namely the one that begins from the premise that the fetus is a human life, and that the right to life that comes with that classification trumps the woman's right to make choices about her own body. This premise itself assumes conclusions about the nature of human life and its relation to personhood, or at least whether rights accrue to humans or to persons, but even if we accept the premise as it stands, and the conclusion about rights that you draw from it, we're still left with all sorts of difficulties for your slavery analogy. Both parties serve as slaves for the other equally well in the analogical mapping (especially when we consider that the woman's life may be at stake as well), for example. What's more, the woman's slavery can be considered to far outlast that of the fetus. Or, approaching it from a different direction, the slave and the slave owner could both exist without each other, and in the slave's case at least (one could argue in the owner's as well), the separate life would be preferable. In the case of abortion, at least pre-viability, no such option exists for the fetus. It is more analogous, in this sense, to a parasite (perhaps acquired from choosing to eat known risky food, or choosing to swim in known risky waters) than to a slave. Of course, this analogy too omits too much to lead to anything but sophistical reasoning, but it is no worse in this regard than yours.
On “Anne Rice quits Christianity”
@Aaron, Lord Jim is one of my favorite books, but if you want nested narratives, you have to read Melmoth the Wanderer (which, strangely enough, I just mentioned on Jason K's other blog, in a completely different context). In that book, there are narratives within narratives within narratives within narratives, and often the same narrative within a narrative within a narrative will have, over time, several nested narratives. At times, you have to stop and think to yourself, "OK, who's telling which of these stories right now?"
On “The Idiocy of Rural Food”
@Will, Ph? as a distinct dish is only about a century old, and is more similar to what Jason calls "cuisine bourgeoise" than to real Vietnamese peasant food, which was mostly just rice with occasional bits of meet or vegetable.
From what I can tell, main difference between east Asian or Pacific culture and French culture, with respect to Jason's points, is that rice replaces bread. There are other somewhat more subtle differences, in some areas, having to do with tribal cultures and the effects they have on the availability of food (those in hunter-gatherer societies tend to have hunted stuff and gathered stuff, e.g.), but for the most part, we don't eat hunter-gatherer dishes, because "hunter gatherer dishes" is borderline nonsensical.
At least, this is what I gather from the couple people I know who are historians of the far East.
On “Ask a Simple Question”
@Zach, you're aware of the potential solutions the actors involved are and are not discussing? You must have some serious connections.
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