This chapter investigates the normative impact of UX writers’ language work by discussing how they craft particular audiences through their work. As such, this chapter turns to the textual products that UX writers create. My analysis focuses on a particularly impactful example of this work, the texts produced for cookie consent notices. Examining the kinds of audiences and addressees that surface in and through these texts, I suggest, can help scholars consider how digital media entail not just traditional notions of audience design but also a more explicit and active crafting of audiences, whereby some people are constructed as audiences and others not. Specifically, I discuss how automated participant roles, the stylization of users, as well as the design of imposed interaction lead to an encoding of both specific participant roles as well as particular social identities in software interfaces. Ultimately, I suggest that this may be understood as a form of symbolic violence, whereby the software interface is used as a means to impose not just an interaction order but also a particular social order onto users.

This chapter analyzes the general uprising of Chuquisaca. On May 25, 1809, a coalition of audiencia ministers, town council officials, the university senate, and residents in general, backed by the mobilization of popular sectors that engaged in bloody clashes with the military garrison and then organized themselves into standing militia units, seized power after deposing the intendant of Charcas and forcing the archbishop to flee the city. The chapter maintains that these events represented a drastic break with all established Hispanic traditions of governance, both Bourbon and Habsburg. It possessed deep revolutionary overtones. While generic allegiance to the Crown may still have been solid, the political foundations of that allegiance came under widespread criticism, threatening the viability of the entire system. On the other hand, this rupture was the outcome of a cumulative erosion of the structures of command and obedience stretching back to the late 1770s. Notwithstanding its momentous impact, the French invasion served as a catalyst rather than as a causal factor in the demise of colonial rule. For it was those discrete historical experiences that equipped local actors with a guide for action, a sense of collective belonging, and a horizon of political intelligibility.

This chapter focuses on a key occurrence leading up to the general uprising of Chuquisaca on May 25, 1809. In January 1809, the University of Charcas’s academic senate publicly and forcefully condemned Princess Carlota Joaquina’s claim to Spain’s regency during her brother Ferdinand VII’s captivity. This momentous political event, known as the “Acta de los Doctores,” has often been interpreted as a forthright expression of royalism and evidence that the movement was more anti-Portuguese than anti Spanish. A close reading of the text reveals that the faculty had a more cunning political aim in disparaging the Portuguese maneuvers: to vilify the Spanish magistrates who had allowed the Carlota papers to be disseminated. Often misinterpreted as a mere pro-Spanish manifesto, the “Acta de los Doctores” crowned and epitomized a by then ingrained culture of political dissension. The last section examines another clash between the university and the audiencia that served as a direct prelude to the May 25 uprising. In this case, it was a clash over the rector’s right to use a cushion during a mass attended by the ministers. At a time when all power hierarchies were being challenged, struggles over ceremonial prominence took on a highly consequential resonance.

This chapter discusses Caribbean antifascism’s roots and its connection to the Comintern’s regional radical network, tracing the evolution of the movement from its anti-imperialist origins as early as 1924. The discussion provides specific examples as to how visions of fascism and antifascism were created for and/or adapted to the local and regional realities through an anti-imperialist prism. The study also maps the transnational and transatlantic journey of an antifascist discursive formula from its origins as a Caribbean hologram equating fascism with imperialism, to its official incorporation to the Communist internationalist lexicon as Comintern policy in 1935, and finally to its application as a propaganda formula during the Spanish Civil War. In the long run, while Caribbean antifascism’s anti-imperialist sensibilities may have been lost in translation in the mayhem of theoretical battles and iron-fist, Stalinist policies, the gist of the messages survived the turmoil, and perhaps still lingers on in our culture even to this day.

Kant presents his conception of the highest good as steering a path between Epicureanism and Stoicism. However, in spite of his differences with Stoicism, namely, his rejection of the ideal of the sage as unattainable for human beings and his insistence upon a conception of freedom of the will that is absent from the ancient doctrine, Kant’s position, especially in the 1790s, ends up being closer to original Stoicism than he recognizes, or at least lets on. Contrary to Kant’s interpretation, the Stoics did not reduce happiness to consciousness of one’s virtue, but allow for the pursuit of happiness as ordinarily conceived within the limits of nature – and so does Kant. Yet Kant’s later conception of the highest good as happiness to be realized in the natural history of the human species, thus in nature, is close to the Stoic doctrine. And, contrary now to some commentators, while Kant still thinks that the possibility of the highest good on this conception needs a theistic underpinning, this is definitely not a specifically Christian position, because it involves no salvific role for Christ.

This Introduction situates Reinach and the Foundations of Private Law, and Adolf Reinach, in contemporary currents in private law theory and philosophy.

This chapter explores the significance of class and gender for the landscape of genius. While laboring-class and women authors were often celebrated for their genius, that genius was almost always defined and delimited by their specific social identities rather than becoming associated with nature or the nation in general. As a result, landscapes of genius rarely formed around such authors. The English laboring-class poet, John Clare, thus failed to generate a literary landscape despite his strong identification with nature and local place. Robert Burns’s use of Scots dialect and wider identification with Scottish nature and identity, by contrast, established him as a central figure for Scottish nationalism and produced the “Land of Burns” as an early prototype of the landscape of genius. The chapter concludes by exploring the intersection of class and gender. It engages with the English laboring-class women poet, Ann Yearsley, whose proud self-assertion of independent genius precluded her identification with nature; and the genteel American women writer, Susan Fenimore Cooper, who presented herself in Rural Hours (1850) in a social and domestic relation to nature that deliberately dissociated her from any claims to genius or a landscape of genius.