marxism

I Was Wrong About Occupy

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Thursday morning a dozen occupiers addressed forty or so clergy. We clergy were all somewhat skeptical of the demand for public space. You could hear the ministerial, rabbinical hrumphhrumph in the room. (Most of us had never occupied Zucotti Park and a downward trend in temperature wasn’t going to improve on that.) But the occupiers edged toward the theological as they articulated a need for communal, inspirational, face-to-face contact in which they could “appear” to one another.

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Forward Christian Europe!

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If Breivik is insane, then his insanity lies in taking fully to heart the widely fluctuating language of right wing Islamophobes who perceive an existential threat to our freedom and life, a Manichean vision of an uncompromising evil fighting a good that has to be equally unsparing in warfare.

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Marxism, the Opium of the Professoriate?

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Usually, a book about ideas is pretty straightforward. The author is saying this stuff because he believes it. With Terry Eagleton, the British Marxist literary theorist, it’s less so. Marxism, in Eagleton’s hands, is neither exactly a science, nor a practical political agenda. It emerges as essentially a vision, a gaze, a discourse—of political life transformed, of human dignity at last universalized.

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