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Est igitur animal perfectum, in quo sensus et intellectus, considerandum ut homo cosmographus habens civitatem quinque portarum quinque sensuum, per quas intrant nuntii ex toto mundo denuntiantes omnem mundi dispositionem hoc ordine, quo qui de luce et colore eius nova portent, per portam visus intrent; qui de sono et voce, per portam auditus; qui de odoribus, per portam odoratus; et qui de saporibus, per portam gustus; et qui de calore, frigore et aliis tangibilibus, per portam tactus. Sedeatque cosmographus et cuncta relata notet, ut totius sensibilis mundi descriptionem in sua civitate habeat designatam. Verum si porta aliqua civitatis suæ simper clausa remansit, puta visus, tuns quia nuntii visibilium non habuerunt introitum, defectus erit in descriptione mundi. Non enim faciet descriptio mentionem de sole, stellis, luce, soloribus, figuris hominum, bestiarum, arborum, civitatum et maiori parte pulchritudinis mundi. Sic si porta auditus clausa mansit, de loquelis, cantibus, melodiis et talibus nihil descriptio contineret. Ita de reliquis. Studet igitur omni conatu omnes portas habere apertas et continue audire novorum semper nuntiorum relationes et descriptionem suam semper veriorem facere.
Demum quando in sua civitate omnem sensibilis mundi fecit designationem, ne perdat eam, in mappam redigit mundi fecit bene ordinatam et proportionabiliter mensuratam convertitque se ad ipsam nuntiosque amplius licentiat clauditque portas et ad conditorem mundi internum transfert intuitum, qui nihil eorum est omnium, quæ a nuntiis intellexit et notavit, sed omnium est artifex et causa. Quam cogitat sic se habere ad universum mundum anterioriter, sicut ipse ut cosmographus ad mappam, atque ex habitudine mappæ ad verum mundum speculatur in se ipso ut cosmographo mundi creatorem, in imagine veritatem, in signo signatum mente contemplando.
A completely developed sentient creature who is possessed both of sense and intellect is to be viewed as a cosmosgrapher who dwells in a city that has five portals corresponding to the five senses. Through these gateways enter messengers who have spanned the world bringing reports on what has transpired and of the conditions there, and, to be precise, in the following fashion: the messengers who bring news of light and color in the world enter through the portal of the sense of vision; those who report on sound and voice enter through the gate of hearing; those who report on smells through the olefactory gate; those who report on taste, through the gateway of taste; and those who report on warmth, cold and other sensory qualities, enter through the passage dedicated to the sense of touch. The cosmographer sits and takes note of all these senses, in order to have within his city a careful description of the entire realm of the senses. But if a gateway of his city, for instance the visual, should be closed, then his description of the world beyond will be deficient because the messenger of the visual world has found no admission. In this case his description will have no mention of the sun, the stars, light and colors, nothing of the shape of humans, animals, trees and cities, and nothing of the greater part of the beauty of the world. And if the gateway of the sense of sound were to be sealed, then the description would contain similarly nothing of languages, or songs, melodies and the like. The same is true of the other senses. And thus the cosmographer struggles with all his resources to keep all the gateways open and continuously to gather the reports of successive messengers and to make his description ever more accurate.
At length, after he has made in his city a complete delineation of the realm of the senses, then so as not to lose it, he transcribes it into a well-ordered and proportionally measured map. And so he turns toward the map; and, in addition, he bids farewell to the messengers, seals the portals, and turns his inner vision upon the maker of the universe, who is nowhere to be found among the things which the cosmographer has learned from his many messengers, but rather is the creator and cause of them all.
–Niclas Krebs, later Cardinal Nicholas of Kues, Compendium cap. viii (1464) in: Nikolaus von Kues’ philosophisch-theologische Werke in lateinischer Sprache vol. 4, pp. 30-32 (Heidelberg ed. 2002)(S.H. transl.)
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From the June 2014 issue
For the past three years my dosimeter had sat silently on a narrow shelf just inside the door of a house in Tokyo, upticking its final digit every twenty-four hours by one or two, the increase never failing — for radiation is the ruthless companion of time. Wherever we are, radiation finds and damages us, at best imperceptibly. During those three years, my American neighbors had lost sight of the accident at Fukushima. In March 2011, a tsunami had killed hundreds, or thousands; yes, they remembered that. Several also recollected the earthquake that caused it, but as for the hydrogen explosion and containment breach at Nuclear Plant No. 1, that must have been fixed by now — for its effluents no longer shone forth from our national news. Meanwhile, my dosimeter increased its figure, one or two digits per day, more or less as it would have in San Francisco — well, a trifle more, actually. And in Tokyo, as in San Francisco, people went about their business, except on Friday nights, when the stretch between the Kasumigaseki and Kokkai-Gijido-mae subway stations — half a dozen blocks of sidewalk, which commenced at an antinuclear tent that had already been on this spot for more than 900 days and ended at the prime minister’s lair — became a dim and feeble carnival of pamphleteers and Fukushima refugees peddling handicrafts.
One Friday evening, the refugees’ half of the sidewalk was demarcated by police barriers, and a line of officers slouched at ease in the street, some with yellow bullhorns hanging from their necks. At the very end of the street, where the National Diet glowed white and strange behind other buildings, a policeman set up a microphone, then deployed a small video camera in the direction of the muscular young people in drums against fascists jackets who now, at six-thirty sharp, began chanting: “We don’t need nuclear energy! Stop nuclear power plants! Stop them, stop them, stop them! No restart! No restart!” The police assumed a stiffer stance; the drumming and chanting were almost uncomfortably loud. Commuters hurried past along the open space between the police and the protesters, staring straight ahead, covering their ears. Finally, a fellow in a shabby sweater appeared, and murmured along with the chants as he rounded the corner. He was the only one who seemed to sympathize; few others reacted at all.
Number of U.S. congressional districts in which trade with China has produced more jobs than it has cost:
Young bilingual children who learned one language first are likelier than monolingual children and bilingual children who learned languages simultaneously to say that a dog adopted by owls will hoot.
An Oklahoma legislative committee voted to defund Advanced Placement U.S. History courses, accusing the curriculum of portraying the United States as “a nation of oppressors and exploiters.”
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