What does it mean to oppose AIDS, to be at odds with AIDS? What kind of rupture with history does AIDS represent? How does AIDS and what is said about AIDS relate to gay identity? How does AIDS relate to thinking and acting, particularly deconstructive thinking? The author confronts these questions from a broad philosophical background that ranges from Kant, Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, and Heidegger to contemporary thought concerning gay activism and AIDS research, all brought together in an effort to find a philosophical language capable of doing justice to the singularity of lived experience in the shadow of AIDS.
In examining what AIDS reveals about the conditions of existence, Garcia Duttmann develops the idea of the "dis-unity" or "at-odds-ness" of existence, of the "non-belonging" that characterizes the marginalized, outcast, or abandoned, and exposes human existence itself. He analyzes what AIDS reveals about the character of history through two intertwined issues. First, he examines arguments bearing on the epochal significance of AIDS, the idea that AIDS reveals something uniquely characteristic of our time, hence that the epidemic marks a historical caesura. Second, he develops a theory of historical witnessing suggesting that the phenomena of historical event and bearing witness are not at all separate, but instead are co-originary, inhering in the same complex.

In The Image in Early Cinema, the contributors examine intersections between early cinematic form, technology, theory, practice, and broader modes of visual culture. They argue that early cinema emerged within a visual culture composed of a variety of traditions in art, science, education, and image making. Even as methods of motion picture production and distribution materialized, they drew from and challenged practices and conventions in other mediums. This rich visual culture produced a complicated, overlapping network of image-making traditions, innovations, and borrowing among painting, tableaux vivants, photography, and other pictorial and projection practices. Using a variety of concepts and theories, the contributors explore these crisscrossing traditions and work against an essentialist notion of media to conceptualize the dynamic interrelationship between images and their context.

Scott Curtis draws our eye to the role of scientific, medical, educational, and aesthetic observation in shaping modern spectatorship. Focusing on the nontheatrical use of motion picture technology in Germany between the 1890s and World War I, he follows researchers, teachers, and intellectuals as they negotiated the fascinating, at times fraught relationship between technology, discipline, and expert vision. As these specialists struggled to come to terms with motion pictures, they advanced new ideas of mass spectatorship that continue to affect the way we make and experience film. Staging a brilliant collision between the moving image and scientific or medical observation, visual instruction, and aesthetic contemplation, The Shape of Spectatorship showcases early cinema's revolutionary impact on society and culture and the challenges the new medium placed on ways of seeing and learning.

What does it mean to oppose AIDS, to be at odds with AIDS? What kind of rupture with history does AIDS represent? How does AIDS and what is said about AIDS relate to gay identity? How does AIDS relate to thinking and acting, particularly deconstructive thinking? The author confronts these questions from a broad philosophical background that ranges from Kant, Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, and Heidegger to contemporary thought concerning gay activism and AIDS research, all brought together in an effort to find a philosophical language capable of doing justice to the singularity of lived experience in the shadow of AIDS.
In examining what AIDS reveals about the conditions of existence, Garcia Duttmann develops the idea of the "dis-unity" or "at-odds-ness" of existence, of the "non-belonging" that characterizes the marginalized, outcast, or abandoned, and exposes human existence itself. He analyzes what AIDS reveals about the character of history through two intertwined issues. First, he examines arguments bearing on the epochal significance of AIDS, the idea that AIDS reveals something uniquely characteristic of our time, hence that the epidemic marks a historical caesura. Second, he develops a theory of historical witnessing suggesting that the phenomena of historical event and bearing witness are not at all separate, but instead are co-originary, inhering in the same complex.

Scott Curtis draws our eye to the role of scientific, medical, educational, and aesthetic observation in shaping modern spectatorship. Focusing on the nontheatrical use of motion picture technology in Germany between the 1890s and World War I, he follows researchers, teachers, and intellectuals as they negotiated the fascinating, at times fraught relationship between technology, discipline, and expert vision. As these specialists struggled to come to terms with motion pictures, they advanced new ideas of mass spectatorship that continue to affect the way we make and experience film. Staging a brilliant collision between the moving image and scientific or medical observation, visual instruction, and aesthetic contemplation, The Shape of Spectatorship showcases early cinema's revolutionary impact on society and culture and the challenges the new medium placed on ways of seeing and learning.

The Number Fairy is back and in Spanish! The magic of a birthday is beautifully portrayed in this children's book written by Joan Scott Curtis and Illustrated by Jenny Slaver. For this addition, Juanita Ramirez - Robertson translated the original book into Spanish so more of the world can enjoy The Number Fairy. El hada de los n meros, la NumerAda, cuelga n meros para celebrar cumplea os. C mo empez la NumerAda? Qui n deseo primero para su cumplea os y trajo el hada a su existencia?

With its sharp focus on stardom during the 1920s, "Idols of Modernity" reveals strong connections and dissonances in matters of storytelling and performance that can be traced both backward and forward, across Europe, Asia, and the United States, from the silent era into the emergence of sound.
Bringing together the best new work on""cinema""and stardom in the 1920s, this illustrated collection showcases the range of complex social, institutional, and aesthetic issues at work in American cinema of this time. Attentive to stardom as an ensemble of texts, contexts, and social phenomena stretching beyond the cinema, major scholars provide careful analysis of the careers of both well-known and now forgotten stars of the silent and early sound era--Douglas Fairbanks, Buster Keaton, the Talmadge sisters, Rudolph Valentino, Gloria Swanson, Clara Bow, Colleen Moore, Greta Garbo, Anna May Wong, Emil Jannings, Al Jolson, Ernest Morrison, Noble Johnson, Evelyn Preer, Lincoln Perry, and Marie Dressler.

My husband has AIDS. I miraculously don't. How am I going to survive? ...I try to keep from screaming, "Dennis, you can't do this to me now. I left my family, my friends, my job, pulled the kids away from their school and friends-you can't quit on us. You can't." Through clenched teeth, he controls his response, "Scott, I'm tired. I'm dying." Dennis is walking away and does not sound tired; he sounds angry. "Have you not heard anything I've told you for the last twenty-three years? I love you; you are my life. Don't you dare think I'm not dying here, too. You may be the one who gets buried, but I'm the one who has to figure out how to keep living. I'm dying, Dennis; I'm dying with you." We stand there, energy spent, emotionally depleted, tears falling. I take him in my arms, and we hold on to each other as if we draw life's breath from the other-because we do. He sits on the sofa, and I go find the Dallas phone book so I can call Restland, the place where we will bury his body. When Joan Scott Curtis was 43 years old, she found out her husband was dying of AIDS. He had been infected for thirteen years. She tested negative. None of this was possible. It was the mid 1990s. All the prejudices about AIDS are not supposed to exist anymore, but they do. Just Keep Breathing is the remarkable story about finding courage in small victories, on taking solace in helping others, and knowing that even though the major battle will be lost, the ability to live on with grace and dignity is what defines the war. "An extraordinary journey told in a spiritually insightful way that will grip your heart and your emotions and cause you to take a step back and be grateful-that in some way, you...will know yourself a little better. Patti Machin Garrett, City Commissioner, Decatur, Georgia

My husband has AIDS. I miraculously don't. How am I going to survive? ...I try to keep from screaming, "Dennis, you can't do this to me now. I left my family, my friends, my job, pulled the kids away from their school and friends-you can't quit on us. You can't." Through clenched teeth, he controls his response, "Scott, I'm tired. I'm dying." Dennis is walking away and does not sound tired; he sounds angry. "Have you not heard anything I've told you for the last twenty-three years? I love you; you are my life. Don't you dare think I'm not dying here, too. You may be the one who gets buried, but I'm the one who has to figure out how to keep living. I'm dying, Dennis; I'm dying with you." We stand there, energy spent, emotionally depleted, tears falling. I take him in my arms, and we hold on to each other as if we draw life's breath from the other-because we do. He sits on the sofa, and I go find the Dallas phone book so I can call Restland, the place where we will bury his body. When Joan Scott Curtis was 43 years old, she found out her husband was dying of AIDS. He had been infected for thirteen years. She tested negative. None of this was possible. It was the mid 1990s. All the prejudices about AIDS are not supposed to exist anymore, but they do. Just Keep Breathing is the remarkable story about finding courage in small victories, on taking solace in helping others, and knowing that even though the major battle will be lost, the ability to live on with grace and dignity is what defines the war. "An extraordinary journey told in a spiritually insightful way that will grip your heart and your emotions and cause you to take a step back and be grateful-that in some way, you...will know yourself a little better. Patti Machin Garrett, City Commissioner, Decatur, Georgia

Today, we are so accustomed to consuming the amplified lives of film stars that the origins of the phenomenon may seem inevitable in retrospect. But the conjunction of the terms "movie" and "star" was inconceivable prior to the 1910s. "Flickers of Desire" explores the emergence of this mass cultural phenomenon, asking how and why a cinema that did not even run screen credits developed so quickly into a venue in which performers became the American film industry's most lucrative mode of product individuation. Contributors chart the rise of American cinema's first galaxy of stars through a variety of archival sources--newspaper columns, popular journals, fan magazines, cartoons, dolls, postcards, scrapbooks, personal letters, limericks, and dances. The iconic status of Charlie Chaplin's little tramp, Mary Pickford's golden curls, Pearl White's daring stunts, or Sessue Hayakawa's expressionless mask reflect the wild diversity of a public's desired ideals, while Theda Bara's seductive turn as the embodiment of feminine evil, George Beban's performance as a sympathetic Italian immigrant, or G. M. Anderson's creation of the heroic cowboy/outlaw character transformed the fantasies that shaped American filmmaking and its vital role in society.