Traditional plasma based dielectric films are conformal and cost-prohibitive for large displays. Solution based dielectrics are planarizing in nature and provide a flat surface for indium tin oxide (ITO) layer with the resultant uniform liquid crystal response throughout the pixel. In this paper, we present the display-related material properties and integration results obtained by using a solution-based organosilsesquioxane material. The material exhibits extremely high transmittance and planarization, low outgassing, high resistance to moisture absorption and diffusion, good adhesion to other layers integrated with it and ease of integration.

Although Kazantzakis had a profound religious vision that may even be compatible in some ways with Christianity, he makes certain Christians extraordinarily angry. The most recent incident involved Martin Scorsese’s 1988 film of The Last Temptation. Rev. Bill Bright of the Campus Crusade for Christ offered to buy the master print of the film for $10,000,000 so that he could burn it. When the distributor refused and the film opened, a moviegoer attempting to see the picture in New York City had to run a gauntlet of Catholic monks on their knees praying for his soul and Protestant fundamentalists haranguing him about damnation, for which he would surely qualify if her merely entered the theatre. But this was only the most recent incident. In the 1950s the same novel, plus some pages of Kapetán Mihális, inspired the Greek Orthodox Church to prosecute Kazantzakis and attempt to excommunicate him. Kazantzakis responded: ‘You gave me your curse, holy Fathers. I give you a blessing: May your conscience be as clear as mine, and may you be as moral and religious as I am. The same novel was placed on the Vatican’s Index of Forbidden Books. And when it appeared in the United States in 1960, it moved Protestant fundamentalists in California to insist that it be removed from libraries — a tactic that turned the book into a best seller. But the Greek Orthodox Church’s opposition goes back much further. Bishop Athanasios of Syros, in a memorandum to the Church’s Synod in 1928, condemned Kazantzakis’ major philosophical work, Askitikì, plus some journalistic articles, as anti-religious, quoting — as did Bill Bright — isolated passages out of context, for example: ‘God … is not the kindly family-man we thought. He is cruel, he does not care about individuals.’ And when Kazantzakis dared in the same year in a public lecture in Athens to suggest that if we want to understand what faith is we should look to Russia rather than the Church, he was subpoenaed by the public prosecutor for insulting the state and disturbing civil tranquility.

During the years of the German Occupation (1941-4), Nikos Kazantzakis was confined to the island of Aegina. Unable to participate in the Resistance, he vowed (a) to re-enter politics as soon as the Germans left, and (b) to devote the years of enforced confinement to liberating himself from all his manuscripts. But the second part of the vow was not as selfish as it might seem, nor was it unrelated to the first. This is because the intellectual challenges which Kazantzakis set himself during the Occupation were almost all concerned with his country’s welfare. More specifically, they were an attempt to investigate, define, and evoke that elusive quality ‘Greekness’ in preparation for the time when he and his compatriots, once again free, would presumably be attempting to apply their self-knowledge to the everyday problems of reconstituting the nation’s political life.