Suchergebnisse

Machine generated contents note:Entrance: The Spies of Jericho --Discipline and Listen --Before the Wiretap --Overhearing and Diaphony --A Small History of Big Ears (Toward the Panacousticon) --Mastery and Metrics in Figaro --The Ages of Fear --Telelistening and Telesurveillance --A Secret Conversation --Underground Passage: The Mole in Its Burrow --In the Footsteps of Orpheus --The Trackers, with Hidden Noise --The Mortal Ear, or Orpheus Turns Around --On the Phone: Papageno at Mabuse's --The Phantom of the Opera --Wozzeck at the Moment of His Death --Adorno, the Informer --Exit: J.D.'s Dream.

Kant has taken seriously, as no one else in the history of philosophy did, the existence of extraterrestrials. Their central role in his thought allows for a new approach of cosmopolitanism, in a tight dialogue with Carl Schmitt. At stake is a geopolitics of the sensible.

Narrativity and indebtedness are inextricably intertwined. Absolvere, in Latin, means both to "pay off" a debt and to "relate" a historical event that has reached its conclusion, that is complete (absolutum). In the Arabian Nights, Scheherazade tells many stories about debt and debtors; but it is also her very narration that she evokes as the redeeming of a debt ("I am willing to pay my debt," she says when resuming her story at the beginning of the Twelfth Night). Following some of Walter Benjamin's insights, this essay delves into the economy of narration as finance, a word that used to mean "ending." And it asks: since when has finance become without an end?

Abstract
"Face value," according to the OED, is "the value printed or depicted on a coin, banknote, ticket, etc., especially when less than the actual value." But we could hear in this expression an imperative—"face value!"—an injunction to consider value face to face, that is, prosopon pros prosopon. Prosopon, the Greek word for mask, gave rise to the rhetorical figure of prosopopoeia (prosopon poiein: to confer a mask or a face). A striking occurrence of prosopopoeia is found in the eighteenth-century British genre called "it-narrative," in which inanimate things speak and recount their life narrative. The first of these novels—Charles Gildon's Golden Spy (1702)—gives voice to a bunch of coins. And the genre becomes self-reflexive when money starts to "coin words," like the autobiographical protagonist of The Adventures of a Bank-Note (1770). Drawing on ancient sources, contemporary art, and readings of Nietzsche, Marx, and Levinas, the article attempts to formulate the following question: Why does money need a mask?