Regional Identity Quotes

Along the way we have even lost the right to call ourselves Americans, although the Haitians and the Cubans appeared in history as new people a century befire the Mayflower pilgrims settled on the Plymouth coast. For the world today, America is just the United States; the region we inhabit is a sub-America, a second-class America of nebulous identity.

Generous tears filled Gabriel's eyes. He had never felt like that himself towards any woman, but he knew that such a feeling must be love. The tears gathered more thickly in his eyes and in the partial darkness he imagined he saw the form of a young man standing under a dripping tree. Other forms were near. His soul had approached that region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead. He was conscious of, but could not apprehend, their wayward and flickering existence. His own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world: the solid world itself, which these dead had one time reared and lived in, was dissolving and dwindling.

my basic point being that stories are at the heart of what explorers and novelists say about strange regions of the world; they also become the method colonized people use to assert their own identity and the existence of their own history.

A terroir only exists by virtue of one's childhood mythology . . . we have invented these words of tradition rooted deep in the land and identity of a region . . . because we want to solidify and objectify the magical, bygone years that preceded the horror of becoming an adult.

Most Americans know the Dutch founded what is now Greater New York City. Few realize that their influence is largely the reason New York is New York, the most vibrant and powerful city on the continent, and one with a culture and identity unlike that of anyplace else in the United States.

If America is to be strong in the future, Americans must see America as home, not divided by race or region. Build American jobs for the future and come together with compassion to solve problems.

Generous tears filled Gabriel’s eyes. He had never felt like that himself towards any woman, but he knew that such a feeling must be love. The tears gathered more thickly in his eyes and in the partial darkness he imagined he saw the form of a young man standing under a dripping tree. Other forms were near. His soul had approached that region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead. He was conscious of, but could not apprehend, their wayward and flickering existence. His own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world: the solid world itself which these dead had one time reared and lived in was dissolving and dwindling.

Britain has no ‘white history’. British history is the multiracial, interracial story of a nation interdependent on trade, cultural influence and immigration from Africa, India, Central and East Asia, and other regions and continents populated by people who are not white, and before that, invasion by successive waves of European tribes most of whom, had the concept of whiteness existed at the time, would not have fitted into it either.

... to wander far from the familiar "home" of his adolescent ways of belonging, doing, and being. He must, as poet Mary Oliver puts it, "stride deeper and deeper into the world." His culture will greatly influence the manner in which he wanders, as will his gender, physical constitution, psychological temperament, age, and bio-region. In one culture, his wandering might take him geographically far from his hometown or village. In another culture, geographic movement will have little importance for the true depth of his wandering. What is critical is not whether he engages in this practice or that, or undergoes this ritual or another, but that his wandering changes his relationship to the world, that he leaves the home of his adolescent identity, and that his border crossings usher him into the mysteries of nature and psyché.

They are an American Delegation who are doing a tour of the region to apologize for the crusades', said Arafat. Then he, and his guest, burst out laughing. They both knew that America had little or no involvement in the wars of the eleventh to thirteenth centuries. But Arafat, at any rate, was happy to indulge the affliction of anyone who believed they had and use it to his own political advantage.

The few weeks I have had at my disposal have not given me the chance to revive and to work through my old memories in such a way that I might offer you a solid introduction into the psychic life of Indians.

I had spent enough time in France to know that the words 'chez moi' meant something a thousand times more profound than one's current home. 'Chez moi' was the place your parents came from, or maybe even the region of your parents' parents. The food you ate at Christmas, your favorite kind of cheese, your best childhood memories of summer vacation -- all of these derived from 'chez moi.' And even if you had never lived there, 'chez moi' was knitted into your identity; it colored the way you viewed the world and the way the world viewed you.

Even Winnipeggers who depart for Toronto, Calgary or Vancouver never assimilate or fully lose their regional identity. They remain stuck on their birthplace, in the middle of the flat, snowy, buggy, flood-prone and isolated prairie, where everyone seems to know everyone despite the impossibility of the arithmetic involved.

It is fruitless to search for the characteristics of an “American” identity, because each nation has its own notion of what being American should mean.

For the world today, America is just the United States; the region we inhabit is a sub-America, a second-class America of nebulous identity.

Tyranny comes in many shapes and forms. It is social, regional, economic, political and foreign.

As for those not directly affected by this struggle, it would help if more conversations could hold greater complexity—the ability to acknowledge that the Israelis who came to Palestine in the 1940s were survivors of genocide, desperate refugees, many of whom had no other options, and that they were settler colonists who participated in the ethnic cleansing of another people. That they were victims of white supremacy in Europe being passed the mantle of whiteness in Palestine. That Israelis are nationalists in their own right and that their country has long been enlisted by the United States to act as a kind of subcontracted military base in the region. All of this is true all at once. Contradictions like these don’t fit comfortably within the usual binaries of anti-imperialism (colonizer/colonized) or the binaries of identity politics (white/racialized)—but if Israel-Palestine teaches us anything, it might be that binary thinking will never get us beyond partitioned selves, or partitioned nations.

We find the same pattern in virtually every region of the world: the identity cleavage deepened and conflicts over boundaries intensified while the wealth cleavage weakened and criticism of wealth became muted.

Some English learners worry about this. ‘I’d love to lose my foreign accent and sound just like a native speaker,’ they say. To which I answer, ‘Why? Why do you want to lose your identity?’ And I advise them to be proud of their accent, in just the same way as I would tell people in Britain’s regions to be proud of the way they speak, and not feel so insecure that they look for alternatives. As long as learners can communicate clearly and effectively, native speakers need ask for no more.

In the second decade of the twenty-first century, that spectrum appears to be giving way in many regions to one defined by identity. The left has focused less on broad economic equality and more on promoting the interests of a wide variety of groups perceived as being marginalized—blacks, immigrants, women, Hispanics, the LGBT community, refugees, and the like. The right, meanwhile, is redefining itself as patriots who seek to protect traditional national identity, an identity that is often explicitly connected to race, ethnicity, or religion.

Not one of those worlds will be identical to Earth. A few will be hospitable; most will appear hostile. Many will be achingly beautiful. In some worlds there will be many suns in the daytime sky, many moons in the heavens at night, or great particle ring systems soaring from horizon to horizon. Some moons will be so close that their planet will loom high in the heavens, covering half the sky. And some worlds will look out onto a vast gaseous nebula, the remains of an ordinary star that once was and is no longer. In all those skies, rich in distant and exotic constellations, there will be a faint yellow star—perhaps barely seen by the naked eye, perhaps visible only through the telescope—the home star of the fleet of interstellar transports exploring this tiny region of the great Milky Way Galaxy. The themes of space and time are, as we have seen, intertwined. Worlds and stars, like people, are born, live and die. The lifetime of a human being is measured in decades; the lifetime of the Sun is a hundred million times longer. Compared to a star, we are like mayflies, fleeting ephemeral creatures who live out their whole lives in the course of a single day. From the point of view of a mayfly, human beings are stolid, boring, almost entirely immovable, offering hardly a hint that they ever do anything. From the point of view of a star, a human being is a tiny flash, one of billions of brief lives flickering tenuously on the surface of a strangely cold, anomalously solid, exotically remote sphere of silicate and iron. In all those other worlds in space there are events in progress, occurrences that will determine their futures. And on our small planet, this moment in history is a historical branch point as profound as the confrontation of the Ionian scientists with the mystics 2,500 years ago. What we do with our world in this time will propagate down through the centuries and powerfully determine the destiny of our descendants and their fate, if any, among the stars.

Woman is the opposite, the ‘other’ of man: she is non-man, defective man, assigned a chiefly negative value in relation to the male first principle. But equally man is what he is only by virtue of ceaselessly shutting out this other or opposite, defining himself in antithesis to it, and his whole identity is therefore caught up and put at risk in the very gesture by which he seeks to assert his unique, autonomous existence. Woman is not just an other in the sense of something beyond his ken, but an other intimately related to him as the image of what he is not, and therefore as an essential reminder of what he is. Man therefore needs this other even as he spurns it, is constrained to give a positive identity to what he regards as no-thing. Not only is his own being parasitically dependent upon the woman, and upon the act of excluding and subordinating her, but one reason why such exclusion is necessary is because she may not be quite so other after all. Perhaps she stands as a sign of something in man himself which he needs to repress, expel beyond his own being, relegate to a securely alien region beyond his own definitive limits. Perhaps what is outside is also somehow inside, what is alien also intimate — so that man needs to police the absolute frontier between the two realms as vigilantly as he does just because it may always be transgressed, has always been transgressed already, and is much less absolute than it appears.

You’d think someone as resourceful as Rachel would know whether or not Toraf was the identical twin of a known terrorist. But nooooo. So we wait by our guard in the corridor of the security office of LAX airport while about a dozen people work to verify our identity. My identity comes back fine and clean and boring. Toraf’s identity doesn’t come back for a few hours. Which is not cool, because he’s been puking in the trash can next to our bench seats and it’s got to be almost full by now. Because of the regional storms in Jersey, we’d had a rough takeoff. Coupled with the reaction Toraf had to the Dramamine-excitability, no less-it was all I could do to coax him out of the tiny bathroom to get him to sit still and not puke while doing so. His fingerprints could not be matched and his violet eyes were throwing them for a loop, since they physically verified that they aren’t contacts. A lady security officer asked us several times in several different ways why our tickets would be one-way to Hawaii if we lived in Jersey and only had a carry-on bag full of miscellaneous crap that you don’t really need. Where were we going? What were we doing? I’d told them we were going to Honolulu to pick a place to get married and weren’t in a hurry to come back, so we only purchased one-way tickets and blah blah blah. It’s a BS story and they know it, but sometimes BS stories can’t be proven false. Finally, I asked for an attorney, and since they hadn’t charged us with anything, and couldn’t charge us with anything, they decided to let us go. For crying out loud. I can’t decide if I’m relieved or nervous that Toraf’s seat is a couple of rows back on our flight to Honolulu. On the plus side, I don’t have to be bothered every time he goes to the bathroom to upchuck. Then again, I can’t keep my eye on him, either, in case he doesn’t know how to act or respond to nosy strangers who can’t mind their own business. I peek around my seat and roll my eyes. He’s seated next to two girls, about my age and obviously traveling together, and they’re trying nonstop to start a conversation with him. Poor, poor Toraf. It must be a hard-knock life to have inherited the exquisite Syrena features. It’s all he can do not to puke in their laps. A small part of me wishes that he would, so they’d shut up and leave him alone and I could maybe close my eyes for two seconds. From here I can hear him squirm in his seat, which is about four times too small for a built Syrena male. His shoulder and biceps protrude into the aisle, so he’s constantly getting bumped. Oy.

Farmers in the South, West, and Midwest, however, were still building a major movement to escape from the control of banks and merchants lending them supplies at usurious rates; agricultural cooperatives—cooperative buying of supplies and machinery and marketing of produce—as well as cooperative stores, were the remedy to these conditions of virtual serfdom. While the movement was not dedicated to the formation of worker co-ops, in its own way it was at least as ambitious as the Knights of Labor had been. In the late 1880s and early 1890s it swept through southern and western states like a brushfire, even, in some places, bringing black and white farmers together in a unity of interest. Eventually this Farmers’ Alliance decided it had to enter politics in order to break the power of the banks; it formed a third party, the People’s Party, in 1892. The great depression of 1893 only spurred the movement on, and it won governorships in Kansas and Colorado. But in 1896 its leaders made a terrible strategic blunder in allying themselves with William Jennings Bryan of the Democratic party in his campaign for president. Bryan lost the election, and Populism lost its independent identity. The party fell apart; the Farmers’ Alliance collapsed; the movement died, and many of its cooperative associations disappeared. Thus, once again, the capitalists had managed to stomp out a threat to their rule.171 They were unable to get rid of all agricultural cooperatives, however, even with the help of the Sherman “Anti-Trust” Act of 1890.172 Nor, in fact, did big business desire to combat many of them, for instance the independent co-ops that coordinated buying and selling. Small farmers needed cooperatives in order to survive, whether their co-ops were independent or were affiliated with a movement like the Farmers’ Alliance or the Grange. The independent co-ops, moreover, were not necessarily opposed to the capitalist system, fitting into it quite well by cooperatively buying and selling, marketing, and reducing production costs. By 1921 there were 7374 agricultural co-ops, most of them in regional federations. According to the census of 1919, over 600,000 farmers were engaged in cooperative marketing or purchasing—and these figures did not include the many farmers who obtained insurance, irrigation, telephone, or other business services from cooperatives.173

Adults can distinguish race from very minimal clues. Stanford researchers showed subjects just the front slices of plain, black profiles—the face from forehead to chin, without the hair. Subjects could tell the race of the profile (80 percent of the time) more often than they could tell the sex (70 percent), or the age within 10 years (68 percent). Race is commonly equated with skin color, but all the profiles were black. It is obviously important for adults to tell the sexes apart, but they were even better at telling races apart. Magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) has been used to determine that what is called the fusiform region of the brain may be associated with the other-race effect. The fusiform region is involved in expert appraisal. In a bird-watcher’s brain, for example, the region lights up at the sight of a bird. All people have considerable expertise in recognizing human faces, but MRI scans show greater fusiform activity—expert appraisal activity—when they are looking at faces of their own race.

But we noted also in all these victoruous worlds a remarkable identity. For instance, in the loosest possible sense, all were communistic; for in all of them the means of production were communally owned, and no individual could control the labor of others for private profit. Again, in a sense all these world-orders were democratic, since the final sanction of policy was world-opinion. But in many cases there was no democratic machinery, no legal channel for the expression of world-opinion. Instead, a highly specialized bureaucracy, or even a world-dictator, might carry out the business of organizing the world's activity with legally absolute power, but under constant supervision by popular will expressed through radio. We were amazed to find that in a truly awakened world even a dictatorship could be in essence democratic. We observed with incredulity situations in which the "absolute" world-government, faced with some exceptionally momentous and doubtful matter of policy, had made urgent appeals for a formal democratic decision, only to receive from all regions the reply, "We cannot advise. You must decide as your professional experience suggests. We will abide by your decision.

Central to Möser's view of the human world was "honor," a notion that was as important to corporatist society as the notion of dignity would be for the more individualistic society that succeeded it. In Möser's view, a person acquired his identity from his place in the institutional structure of society, a society in which economic, social, and political institutions were not distinguished from one another. His status (as a guildsman, noble landowner, serf, or independent peasant cottager) determined not only how he earned his living, but his sense of who he was, of what his duties and obligations were, of those to whom he ought to defer and those who ought to defer to him. (In the language of modern sociology, Möser's society was one in which almost all of the individual's roles derived from a single status.) Who one was was largely a continuation of what one's forebears had been. For Möser the real self was the socially encumbered self, the self based on status, on historical and regional particularity, and on property. It was a self whose prime virtue was honor. Status and the honor that attached to it were inherited, although they could be lost if one failed to live up to the duties of one's rank.

You might have thought that, faced with a novel anti-political picture of the nation, liberals would have countered with an imaginative, hopeful vision of what we share as Americans and what we might accomplish together. Instead, they lost themselves in the thickets of identity politics and developed a resentful, disuniting rhetoric of difference to match it. You might have thought that, faced with Republican's steady acquisition of institutional power, they would have poured their energies into helping the Democratic Party win elections at every level of government and in every region of the country, reaching out especially to working-class Americans who used to vote for it. Instead, they became enthralled with social movements operating outside those institutions and developed disdain for the demos living between the coasts. You might have thought that, faced with the dogma of radical economic individualism that Reaganism normalized, liberals would have used their positions in our educational institutions to teach young people that they share a destiny with all their fellow citizens and have duties toward them. Instead, they trained students to be spelunkers of their personal identities and left them incurious about the world outside of their heads. You might have thought a lot of reasonable things. And you would have been wrong.

Generous tears filled Gabriel's eyes. He had never felt like that himself towards any woman, but he knew that such a feeling must be love. The tears gathered more thickly in his eyes and in the partial darkness he imagined he saw the form of a young man standing under a dripping tree. Other forms were near. His soul had approached that region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead. He was conscious of, but could not apprehend, their wayward and flickering existence. His own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world: the solid world itself, which these dead had one time reared and lived in, was dissolving and dwindling. A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

Jews, notably, were defined as a ‘people’, while others, not even identified, were referred to only as ‘communities’. It was an extraordinary phrase that echoes down the decades and explains why Balfour is remembered a century later by Arabs as the architect of perfidy and disaster.16 Zionists, for opposite reasons, revere his memory; Balfour Street in Jerusalem is still the site of the official residence of the Israeli prime minister. The reservation had been inserted in the text to meet the strong objections raised by Lord Curzon, the former British viceroy of India and, as lord president of the council, an influential member of the war cabinet. Curzon – reflecting contemporary perceptions about the map and identity of the region – had referred to the ‘Syrian Arabs’ who had ‘occupied [Palestine] for the best part of 1,500 years’, and asked what would become of them. ‘They will not be content either to be expropriated for Jewish immigrants or to act merely as hewers of wood and drawers of water to the latter’, he predicted with the help of another then familiar biblical reference.17 The declaration’s second reservation – about the rights of Jews in other countries – was a response to the opposition of Edwin Montagu, the secretary of state for India, even though he was not in the war cabinet. Montagu was a Jewish grandee who feared that an official expression of sympathy for Zionism in fact masked anti-Semitic prejudice and would undermine the hard-won position of British Jews and their co-religionists elsewhere in the world. However, it did not weaken his vehement opposition, any more than the words about ‘non-Jewish communities’ assuaged Arab fears. Over time, Jewish attitudes to Zionism would change significantly; Arab attitudes, by and large, did not.

That the Roman Near East could be looked at, in more than a purely geographical sense, as part of Asia, or 'the Orient', cannot be denied. The mere currency there of a group of related Semitic langauges is sufficient evidence of that. But it was also an area of already long-standing Greek city-foundation and settlement. To look at the culture of any one of the sub-regions of the Near East is to see how profoundly the Greek language and Greek culture were rooted in the civilisation of this region. Any notion of a crude contrast between 'Greek' on the one hand and 'Oriental' or 'Semitic' on the other must seem wholly inadequate. Too much time had passed since Alexander's arrival in 332 BC. Yet the military history of the region itself serves to suggest that this contrast is not completely meaningless. The Roman forces here fought many successive campaigns, large and small, in contexts other than rivalry with Parthia or Persia: repeatedly in Judaea but also in Commagene, in Nabataea in 106, against Palmyra and finally, under Diocletian, against the 'Saracens'. But none of these operations was directed against a community or political formation which we would be tempted to characterise as unambiguously Greek. Nonetheless, any attempt to understand the culture or cultures of the region in terms of a simple contrast between 'Greek' and 'Oriental' would be inevitably misleading. There is little or nothing to suggest that the supposed 'Orientals' shared any sense of common identity. On the contrary, everything shows that Jewish identity, whose maintenance is beyond question, conflicted rather than cohered with the identities of other groups using Semitic languages. Nor did those others show anything like the same capacity for survival. Whether anything distinctive remained of Commagene after the end of the dynasty, of Nabataea after it was made into the province of Arabia, or of Palmyra after Aurelian's reconquest is precisely one of the crucial questions we need to answer.

Once, I was doing a late-night case with one of the neurosurgery attendings, a suboccipital craniectomy for a brain-stem malformation. It’s one of the most elegant surgeries, in perhaps the most difficult part of the body—just getting there is tricky, no matter how experienced you are. But that night, I felt fluid: the instruments were like extensions of my fingers; the skin, muscle, and bone seemed to unzip themselves; and there I was, staring at a yellow, glistening bulge, a mass deep in the brain stem. Suddenly, the attending stopped me. “Paul, what happens if you cut two millimeters deeper right here?” He pointed. Neuroanatomy slides whirred through my head. “Double vision?” “No,” he said. “Locked-in syndrome.” Another two millimeters, and the patient would be completely paralyzed, save for the ability to blink. He didn’t look up from the microscope. “And I know this because the third time I did this operation, that’s exactly what happened.” Neurosurgery requires a commitment to one’s own excellence and a commitment to another’s identity. The decision to operate at all involves an appraisal of one’s own abilities, as well as a deep sense of who the patient is and what she holds dear. Certain brain areas are considered near-inviolable, like the primary motor cortex, damage to which results in paralysis of affected body parts. But the most sacrosanct regions of the cortex are those that control language. Usually located on the left side, they are called Wernicke’s and Broca’s areas; one is for understanding language and the other for producing it. Damage to Broca’s area results in an inability to speak or write, though the patient can easily understand language. Damage to Wernicke’s area results in an inability to understand language; though the patient can still speak, the language she produces is a stream of unconnected words, phrases, and images, a grammar without semantics. If both areas are damaged, the patient becomes an isolate, something central to her humanity stolen forever. After someone suffers a head trauma or a stroke, the destruction of these areas often restrains the surgeon’s impulse to save a life: What kind of life exists without language? When I was a med student,

It was a story no one could tell me when I was child. The story of Russian Jewry had been told in English, by American Jews; to them, it was a story that began with antiquity, culminated with the pogroms, and ended with emigration. For those who remained in Russia, there had been a time before the pogroms and a time after: a period of home, then a period of fear and even greater fear and then brief hope again, and then a different kind of fear, when one no longer feared for one's life but fear never having hope again. This story did not end; it faded into a picture of my parents sitting at the kitchen table poring over an atlas of the world, or of me sitting on the bedroom floor talking at my best friend. The history of the Soviet Union itself remains a story without an narrative; every attempt to tell this story in Russia has stopped short, giving way to the resolve to turn away from the decades of pain and suffering and bloodshed. With every telling, stories of Stalinism and the Second World War become more mythologized. And with so few Jew left in Russia, with so little uniting them, the Russian Jewish world is one of absences and silences. I had no words for this when I was twelve, but what I felt more strongly that anything, more strongly even than the desire to go to Israel, was this absence of a story. My Jewishness consisted of the experience of being ostracized and beaten up and the specter of not being allowed into university. Once I found my people milling outside the synagogue (we never went inside, where old men in strange clothes sang in an unfamiliar language), a few old Yiddish songs and a couple of newer Hebrew ones were added to my non-story. Finally, I had read the stories of Sholem Aleichem, which were certainly of a different world, as distant from my modern urban Russian-speaking childhood as anything could be. In the end, my Jewish identity was entirely negative: it consisted of non-belonging. How had I and other late-Soviet Jews been so impoverished? Prior to the Russian Revolution, most of the world's Jews lived in the Russian Empire. Following the Second World War, Russia was the only European country whose Jewish population numbered not in the hundreds or even thousands but in the millions. How did this country rid itself of Jewish culture altogether? How did the Jews of Russia lose their home? Much later, as I tried to find the answers to these questions, I kept circling back tot he story of Birobidzhan, which, in its concentrated tragic absurdity seemed to tell it all.

A different approach was taken in 1972 by Dr. Walter Mischel, also of Stanford, who analyzed yet another characteristic among children: the ability to delay gratification. He pioneered the use of the “marshmallow test,” that is, would children prefer one marshmallow now, or the prospect of two marsh-mallows twenty minutes later? Six hundred children, aged four to six, participated in this experiment. When Mischel revisited the participants in 1988, he found that those who could delay gratification were more competent than those who could not. In 1990, another study showed a direct correlation between those who could delay gratification and SAT scores. And a study done in 2011 indicated that this characteristic continued throughout a person’s life. The results of these and other studies were eye-opening. The children who exhibited delayed gratification scored higher on almost every measure of success in life: higher-paying jobs, lower rates of drug addiction, higher test scores, higher educational attainment, better social integration, etc. But what was most intriguing was that brain scans of these individuals revealed a definite pattern. They showed a distinct difference in the way the prefrontal cortex interacted with the ventral striatum, a region involved in addiction. (This is not surprising, since the ventral striatum contains the nucleus accumbens, known as the “pleasure center.” So there seems to be a struggle here between the pleasure-seeking part of the brain and the rational part to control temptation, as we saw in Chapter 2.) This difference was no fluke. The result has been tested by many independent groups over the years, with nearly identical results. Other studies have also verified the difference in the frontal-striatal circuitry of the brain, which appears to govern delayed gratification. It seems that the one characteristic most closely correlated with success in life, which has persisted over the decades, is the ability to delay gratification. Although this is a gross simplification, what these brain scans show is that the connection between the prefrontal and parietal lobes seems to be important for mathematical and abstract thought, while the connection between the prefrontal and limbic system (involving the conscious control of our emotions and pleasure center) seems to be essential for success in life. Dr. Richard Davidson, a neuroscientist at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, concludes, “Your grades in school, your scores on the SAT, mean less for life success than your capacity to co-operate, your ability to regulate your emotions, your capacity to delay your gratification, and your capacity to focus your attention. Those skills are far more important—all the data indicate—for life success than your IQ or your grades.

The native language of Babylonia-Assyria did no doubt influence the language of Canaan, but chiefly through Phoenician script. The language found on Moabite Stone is practically identical with Old Testament Hebrew .. This fact supports the conclusion that the languages of the Phoenicians, Syrians, Moabites, Ammonites, Arabs and Babylonian-Assyrians, were almost identical in grammatical structures, and closely related in vocabulary in the centuries ix-viii B.C. All the Phoenician and Aramaic types of script may be traced back to this prototype on the Moabite Stone.

The entrance archway opened onto the vast rotunda of Hyperboree Hall. Its floor was a circular map of the polar regions, where the Arctic seas were made of white marble and the islands were cut-out slabs of polished granite decorated with little figures in minute mosaics, drawn, if Brentford remembered correctly, from the Olaus Magnus and Nicolo Zeno depictions of the North. It mixed almost accurate cartography with phantom islands, mythological monsters, and imaginary people, among whom New Venetians were prone and proud to count themselves.

The small surplus of matter over antimatter was only one of the asymmetries. Equally profound, engendering structure out of the matter that remained, was gravitational energy that broke out of the unified energy field at the beginning of the universe we inhabit. Following inflation, gravity amplified its effects throughout space in response to the stretched quantum fluctuations that first set the patterns into which structure would evolve. Matter began to concentrate in some regions, leaving other areas relatively less dense. The distribution of galaxies would later correlate with this initial pattern of lumpiness. In other ways, the early shaping of our universe may have progressed through discontinuities emerging out of symmetrical force fields that then took particular forms within the wrinkled "quantum fabric" of spacetime. One seminal example that led out of physics to chemistry and, ultimately, biology was a unified particle symmetry that concerned an electron-neutrino unity. These particles assume a smooth, uniform identity-virtually pure energy at an extremely high temperature-but, upon cooling to a certain threshold, suddenly break into unique entities, with the electron assuming much more of its energy as mass and the potential to build the emergent complexity of chemistry around elemental matter. Thus, the early breaking of symmetries led to various subsequent processes to shape the universe on all scales with an inexorable potential for the emergence of everything.

Identity by religion, cutting across caste, region and language, has become something of a fantasy for pre-modern times.

Races, socioeconomic groups, and regions differ in their religious service attendance much more than they did a few decades ago. The religious landscape is now more polarized based on identity.

Hispanic" and "Latino" are terms whose descriptive legitimacy is premised on a startling lack of specificity. The categories encompass any and all individuals living in the United States who trace their ancestry to the Spanish-speaking regions of Latin America and the Caribbean; Latinos hail from Colombia, Mexico, Paraguay, Puerto Rico, and beyond-more than twenty countries in all. Such inclusivity is part of the problem: "Hispanic" and "Latino" tell us nothing about country of origin, gender, citizenship status, economic class, or length of residence in the United States. An undocumented immigrant from Guatemala is Hispanic; so is a third-generation Mexican American lawyer. Moreover, both categories are racially indeterminate: Latinos can be white, black, indigenous, and every combination thereof. In other words, characterizing a subject as either "Hispanic" or "Latino" is an exercise in opacity-the terms are so comprehensive that their explanatory power is limited. When referring to "Latinos in the United States," it is far from immediately clear whether the subjects under discussion are farmworkers living below the poverty line or middle-class homeowners, urban hipsters or rural evangelicals, white or black, gay or straight, Catholic or Jewish, undocumented Spanish monolinguals or fourth-generation speakers of English-only.

1. Omnipresent and Omnipotent Authoritarianism: Authoritarian Media vs. Social Media?2. Istanbul Mobil'ized: Mobile Phones' Contribution to Political Participation and Activism in Istanbul Gezi Park Protests and Onwards. 3. The Gezi Park Protest and #resistgezi: A Chronicle of Tweeting the Protests. 4. Peace Journalism: Urgently and Desperately Needed in Post-Election Turkey.5. Critical Thinking Skills on Social Media: A Blooming Season Or A Period Of Decline? 6. Social media, blended learning and constructivism: A jigsaw completed by the uses and gratifications theory? 7. Educational uses of social media and problem-based learning. 8. The future of the new media: The mobile generation and interpersonal communication. 9. "Keep in E-Touch" Personality and Facebook use (with Ng)10. Of Kate Moss & Marilyn Monroe: Body Dissatisfaction and its Relation to Media (with Dev)11. Media psychology and intercultural communication: The social representations of Vietnam on Turkish newspapers. 12. Regional Journalism in Southeast Asia and ASEAN Identity in Making

Page 35: There is one outstanding difference between these [Chinese associations in Thailand] and those found in the villages of South China. In China, family and kin groups were predominant, and in fact other groups tended to be relatively unimportant. Just the reverse is true in Bangkok. Here, family and kin groups are numerous but exert small influence on the direction of community affairs. The real locus of power lies with business groups and the regional or dialect associations, both of which are formed on non-kin lines.

When you watch TV, the right hemisphere is twice as active as the left, which in itself is a neurological anomaly. “The crossover from left to right releases a surge of the body’s natural opiates: endorphins, which include beta-endorphins and enkephalins. Endorphins are structurally identical to opium and its derivatives (morphine, codeine, heroin, etc.).”1 In other words, your television works as a high-tech drug delivery system, and we all feel its effects. Another effect of watching television is that the “higher brain regions such as the midbrain and the neo-cortex, are shut down, and most activity shifts to the limbic system, your lower brain region. The lower or reptile brain simply stands poised to react to the environment using deeply embedded ‘fight or flight’ response programs. Moreover, these lower brain regions cannot distinguish reality from fabricated images (a job performed by the neo-cortex), so they react to television content as though it were real, releasing appropriate hormones and so on.

Henry VII’s regime (1485–1500): From these south-western shire surveys it appears that there was not one magnate who provided a ‘political centre’ for the region during Henry’s reign: no leading peer seems to have had the requisite combination of landholding, office-holding, and associations spread throughout all the counties. Rather, it seems that two south-western meso-regional magnates might be discerned: Lords Daubeney and Willoughby (p. 341). The alliances of the two most influential Cornish families during this period, the Edgcumbes and the Arundells, with Lord Willoughby [de Broke] emphasises the peer’s importance in the governance of Devon and Cornwall… In summary, it seems that, as in Devon, the chief magnate in Cornwall was Lord Willoughby. He could not rely on the support only of those associated directly with him, but on the aid of other local figures through his secondary patrons, [John, Lord] Dinham, [Edward Courtenay, Earl of] Devon, [John] Arundell, and the Edgcumbes (p. 336). The intermediate focus of royal authority between county and centre in Henry VI’s later years and under Edward IV had been the regional governor. The conciliar governance of Richard III’s Council of the North was continued by the Tudors who reinstituted this council, and the prince’s council in Wales and the Marches, while also creating a regional council in the Midlands focussed on Henry’s mother. However, in the south-west no single magnate or council was given such regional power, which may have been because Henry’s chief magnates were his loyal household officers, his steward and chamberlain… Henry VII’s governance–as chiefly restorative rather than innovatory–might therefore be described as a renewed monarchy, which, it could be said, by revitalising political structures, finally managed to hoist the ensign of settlement above the battlefields of the Wars of the Roses (p. 344).

Before 1800 the word “light,” apart from its use as a verb and an adjective, referred just to visible light. But early that year the English astronomer William Herschel observed some warming that could only have been caused by a form of light invisible to the human eye. Already an accomplished observer, Herschel had discovered the planet Uranus in 1781 and was now exploring the relation between sunlight, color, and heat. He began by placing a prism in the path of a sunbeam. Nothing new there. Sir Isaac Newton had done that back in the 1600s, leading him to name the familiar seven colors of the visible spectrum: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. (Yes, the colors do indeed spell Roy G. Biv.) But Herschel was inquisitive enough to wonder what the temperature of each color might be. So he placed thermometers in various regions of the rainbow and showed, as he suspected, that different colors registered different temperatures.† Well-conducted experiments require a “control”—a measurement where you expect no effect at all, and which serves as a kind of idiot-check on what you are measuring. For example, if you wonder what effect beer has on a tulip plant, then also nurture a second tulip plant, identical to the first, but give it water instead. If both plants die—if you killed them both—then you can’t blame the alcohol. That’s the value of a control sample. Herschel knew this, and laid a thermometer outside of the spectrum, adjacent to the red, expecting to read no more than room temperature throughout the experiment. But that’s not what happened. The temperature of his control thermometer rose even higher than in the red. Herschel wrote: [I] conclude, that the full red falls still short of the maximum of heat; which perhaps lies even a little beyond visible refraction. In this case, radiant heat will at least partly, if not chiefly, consist, if I may be permitted the expression, of invisible light; that is to say, of rays coming from the sun, that have such a momentum as to be unfit for vision.

The real universe has always been theoretically treated as an object, and specifically as the composite type of object known as a set. But an object or set exists in space and time, and reality does not. Because the real universe by definition contains all that is real, there is no "external reality" (or space, or time) in which it can exist or have been "created". We can talk about lesser regions of the real universe in such a light, but not about the real universe as a whole. Nor, for identical reasons, can we think of the universe as the sum of its parts, for these parts exist solely within a spacetime manifold identified with the whole and cannot explain the manifold itself. This rules out pluralistic explanations of reality, forcing us to seek an explanation at once monic (because nonpluralistic) and holistic (because the basic conditions for existence are embodied in the manifold, which equals the whole). Obviously, the first step towards such an explanation is to bring monism and holism into coincidence.

Around 50,000 Bosniak women and girls were raped in the Bosnian War. Some of them were systematically abused and raped in special rape camps. Bosniak women often became pregnant and gave birth to children from rape. Serbs stated that they wanted to “plant Serb seeds” in the wombs of Bosniak women so that the Serbs could gain domination over the region and infiltrate as well as destroy Bosnian culture. Children that were born out of rape were unwanted, lost, and nameless. They often did not know their true identity or family origin. Bosniaks were brutally attacked by Serb forces because Serbs wanted the territory of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Then look at Easter. What means the term Easter itself? It is not a Christian name. It bears its Chaldean origin on its very forehead. Easter is nothing else than Astarte, one of the titles of Beltis, the queen of heaven, whose name, as pronounced by the people Nineveh, was evidently identical with that now in common use in this country. That name, aas found by Layard on the Assyrian monuments, is Ishtar. The worship of Bel and Astarte was very early introduced into Britain, along with the Druids, "the priests of the groves." Some have imagined that the Druidical worship was first introduced by the Phoenicians, who, centuries before the Christian era, traded to the tin-mines of Cornwall. But the unequivocal traces of that worship are found in regions of the British islands where the Phoenicians never penetrated, and it has everywhere left indelible marks of the strong hold which it must have had on the early British mind.

By the 18th century, the Mound Builder hypothesis had become firmly entrenched in public opinion as the leading explanation of North American prehistory (13). Scholars and antiquarians continued to debate the identity of the Mound Builders into the 19th century, with the majority agreeing that they were not the ancestors of Native Americans. President Andrew Jackson explicitly cited this hypothesis as partial justification for the Indian Removal Act of 1830, barely 40 years after Jefferson published his book. In the monuments and fortresses of an unknown people, spread over the extensive regions of the west, we behold the memorials of a once powerful race, which was exterminated, or has disappeared, to make room for the existing savage tribes (14). Thus did the idea of Manifest Destiny become inexorably linked with concepts of racial categories. When someone asks me why I get so incensed about the concepts of “lost civilizations” and “Mound Builders” that are promoted by cable “history” shows, I simply remind them of this: In the years that followed Jackson’s signing of the Indian Removal Act, over 60,000 Native Americans were expelled from their lands and forcibly relocated west of the Mississippi River. Thousands of people—including children and elders—died at the hands of the US government, which explicitly cited this mythology as one of its justifications.

The Scottish kilt is a quintessential symbol of Scottish culture and heritage, embodying centuries of tradition and pride. This iconic garment, typically made of tartan fabric, is worn by men and is characterized by its pleated, knee-length design. The kilt holds deep historical significance, representing the clans and regions of Scotland, while also serving as a testament to the resilience and identity of the Scottish people. With its distinctive appearance and rich cultural associations, the Scottish kilt stands as a timeless emblem of Scottish tradition, craftsmanship, and a symbol of national pride.

The region was a veritable postage stamp, on which contemporary rivalries -- territorial, religious, and political -- predated the Great Powers' division of the Ottoman Empire at the end of World War I, a carve-up that was based entirely on Western interests. Later, what had been historic Palestine became Jordan, Israel, and the Palestinian Occupied Territories. Israel now controlled swathes of territory previously held by Jordan, Syria, and Egypt.

this posterior firing of maps of the body represents a primary cortical representation and may involve the parietal lobe—a region that may turn out to play an important role in self-awareness and a sense of identity (for further

These experiments showed that there was a region on the X chromosome that was vitally important for X inactivation. This region was dubbed the X Inactivation Centre. In 1991 a group from Hunt Willard’s lab at Stanford University in California showed that the X Inactivation Centre contained a gene that they called Xist, after X-inactive (Xi) specific transcript10. This gene was only expressed from the inactive X chromosome, not from the active one. Because the gene was only expressed from one of the two X chromosomes, this made it an attractive candidate as the controller of X inactivation, where two identical chromosomes behave non-identically.

To further support this claim, consider again the work of Michael Scheuer, the former head of CIA's Bin Laden Unit. Scheuer has provided a comprehensive analysis of Osama Bin Laden, al-Qaeda, and the war on terror as presently undertaken by the United States 42 One of Scheuer's central claims is that al-Qaeda, and other terrorist organizations, are not motivated by a fundamental hatred for the American identity and way of life, but instead by U.S. interventions and policies in the larger Middle East region. It is Scheuer's contention that these interventions are in fact the driving force behind the backlash against the United States.43 In other words, these interventions in the Middle East have generated negative unintended consequences, such as the 9/11 attacks, that in turn led to further interventions, such as the overall war on terror and the invasion of and subsequent reconstruction efforts in Afghanistan and Iraq.

The human tendency to find their sense of accomplishment within their family, caste, community, region, nation, language and religion will only lead to anarchy for others. In their particular reference framework, this whole quest is about finding one's identity, not eternal peace. The ongoing popular discourse in the world is guided by populist slogans for religion, country and community. It's selfish, misleading and is about one-upmanship. Most often, support is sought for the so called fight for identity in the name of religion and justice. Do

But the most lasting rivalry between American landmasses is the one between the northern United States (really the northeastern United States) and the southern United States (really Texas, Alabama, South Carolina, all of Louisiana except New Orleans, and the whitest, most strip-mally regions of Florida). Although the north and south fought a war 150 years ago in order to determine which region's values were going to wind up guiding this nation forward, north vs. south has subsequently played out largely in our elections and pop culture.

cell, for example, has about 2 m of DNA—a length about 250,000 times greater than the cell’s diameter. Yet before the cell can divide to form genetically identical daughter cells, all of this DNA must be copied, or replicated, and then the two copies must be separated so that each daughter cell ends up with a complete genome. The replication and distribution of so much DNA is manageable because the DNA molecules are packaged into structures called chromosomes, so named because they take up certain dyes used in microscopy (from the Greek chroma, color, and soma, body) (Figure 12.3). Each eukaryotic chromosome consists of one very long, linear DNA molecule associated with many proteins (see Figure 6.9). The DNA molecule carries several hundred to a few thousand genes, the units of information that specify an organism’s inherited traits. The associated proteins maintain the structure of the chromosome and help control the activity of the genes. Together, the entire complex of DNA and proteins that is the building material of chromosomes is referred to as chromatin. As you will soon see, the chromatin of a chromosome varies in its degree of condensation during the process of cell division. Every eukaryotic species has a characteristic number of chromosomes in each cell nucleus. For example, the nuclei of human somatic cells (all body cells except the reproductive cells) each contain 46 chromosomes, made up of two sets of 23, one set inherited from each parent. Reproductive cells, or gametes—sperm and eggs—have half as many chromosomes as somatic cells, or one set of 23 chromosomes in humans. The Figure 12.4 A highly condensed, duplicated human chromosome (SEM). Circle one sister chromatid of the chromosome in this micrograph. DRAW IT Sister chromatids Centromere 0.5μm number of chromosomes in somatic cells varies widely among species: 18 in cabbage plants, 48 in chimpanzees, 56 in elephants, 90 in hedgehogs, and 148 in one species of alga. We’ll now consider how these chromosomes behave during cell division. Distribution of Chromosomes During Eukaryotic Cell Division When a cell is not dividing, and even as it replicates its DNA in preparation for cell division, each chromosome is in the form of a long, thin chromatin fiber. After DNA replication, however, the chromosomes condense as a part of cell division: Each chromatin fiber becomes densely coiled and folded, making the chromosomes much shorter and so thick that we can see them with a light microscope. Each duplicated chromosome has two sister chromatids, which are joined copies of the original chromosome (Figure 12.4). The two chromatids, each containing an identical DNA molecule, are initially attached all along their lengths by protein complexes called cohesins; this attachment is known as sister chromatid cohesion. Each sister chromatid has a centromere, a region containing

To this day, Richmond, Indiana, is second only to the City of Brotherly Love in total Quaker population. Nestled among communities of Germans, Scots-Irish, English Methodists, Moravians, Amish, and others, the Quakers had found a cultural landscape almost identical to that of southeastern Pennsylvania.5

Nak stepped him through the Narashtovik alphabet, which was nearly identical to Mallish but lacking three letters, and the subtleties of its pronunciation, which unlike the Mallish stew was regular and orderly as the board of a game of cotters, and which Nak claimed was close enough to Gaskan to sound like no more than a regional accent. He made Dante write it out five times, then speak each letter five more. He drilled Dante on the verb conjugations of Narashtovik and its relation to modern Gaskan. He showed him the structure of its grammar in simple sentences, taught him a handful of words, the precise laws of how a verb cycled through the tenses of the present, the past, the future, the subjunctive. He bade Dante write out a dozen verbs through each of their forms and left on some monkish errand. Busywork, Dante thought, and far too much to take in at once. That Nak wanted him to learn through rote memorization struck him as an insult.

Aramaic spoken in 500 B.C. from Babylon in the north to Assuan in the south of Egypt was identical with what has been popularly styled the Biblical Aramaic.

The border between personal and transpersonal experience is a complex region. It is a territory often filled with spiritual and religious views. Within psychology it was a significant preoccupation of William James, Carl Jung, Abraham Maslow, and many others. But these margins may be seen in other ways as well. There is substantial evidence from psychological studies of personal space that we carry body boundaries of extended space around ourselves. These spatial extensions are not only personal. They may be felt by groups as well—in terms of shared “social” space, communal territories, or even national identities.

An easy direct calculation shows that d dt exp[!g(t)][$(t) ! a] = 0, so, indeed, exp[!g(t)][$(t) ! a] = $(0) ! a. Taking t = 1, exp[!2"in($; a)][$(1) ! a] = $(0) ! a, or, exp[!2"in($; a)] = 1, which implies that n($; a) is indeed integral. The function is obviously continuous, and being integer, it is constant on connected components. Clearly also, it tends to 0 as a tends to +, so it is identically 0 on the unbounded component. ! The next result is an immediate corollary of the invariance of path integrals of analytic functions under homotopy.Proposition. If $0 and $1 are paths which are homotopic in C \ {a} for some point a, then n($0; a) = n($1; a). Cauchy’s Integral Formula. Let $ a piecewise smooth curve in a region G which is null homotopic there, and let f be an analytic function on G. Then n($; a)

Other regions that have been influenced by the Neanderthal genome are implicated in human diseases, such as lupus, Crohn’s disease, and type 2 diabetes, and even in behavior, such as addiction to cigarettes.

Eurasianists, who insist that Russia remains the core of a distinctive civilisation based on the unique mix of peoples who have shared a common destiny for nearly a millennium. There are many strands of Eurasianism, including: a pragmatic Eurasianism that simply reflects the fact that Russia is both a European and an Asian power; neo-Eurasianism, with a more imperialist inflection that denigrates the East as a substantive element while playing up geopolitical factors; an inter-civilisational Eurasianism, focusing on Russia's multiethnic identity;10 and a mystical Eurasianism that sharply distinguishes the mega-region as the spiritual counterpoint to Western degradation.

With the 1980s came a new harshness in British politics, which included prioritising profit over public service. The Conservatives - the very party who might have been expected to support the traditional distinctiveness of the English regions against the homogenous products of the metropolis - decided that it could raise more revenue by selling ITV franchises to the highest bidder, and could build a 'stronger' ITV by allowing one franchise holder to take over another. Soon Anglia had been swallowed up, alongside Ulster, Border, Yorkshire and the others, and ITV became a single company. Proud cities such as Leeds, Birmingham, Plymouth and Norwich lost their broadcasters: from then on decisions were taken in London, or (as the UK television market was taken over by international firms) in Los Angeles or Luxembourg.

Eurobarometer 62 [2004, 1004] reports that, at the time of Constitutional Treaty, 88% of Europeans felt attached to their region. Eurobarometer 71 [2009, 37], held in the time of Lisbon Treaty, reports that the percentage of European citizens who felt attached to their region increased from 88% to 91%. Special Eurobarometer [2010, 70] reports that this percentage goes back to 88%, but with an increase by 2% of respondents who felt very attached to their region. This new regional identity, though similar with national identities even in their emotional configuration, influences in the erosion of national identities as the only or the dominant mean of identification.

By way of generalization of this book, it can be maintained that other regional organizations like the Arab League and the African Union can create collective identities similar to the EU, depending on their political unity and economic interdependence and on the existing common culture of the region able to define it as a civilization or part of it. This, however, requires specific research in the future.

Purpose and Perspective: This work, which the author acknowledges is essentially a synthesis drawing upon the results of many other detailed studies, offers a new approach to both the burgeoning study of regions in English history and on the established discussion of the nature of Yorkist and early Tudor government (Foreword by Professor A. J. Pollard, p. iv). The study aims to explore whether a regional approach to late medieval English politics and governance is feasible, with specific reference to south-west England during the later fifteenth century. The relative importance of regions, in comparison to counties, will be explored by examination of the elites, politics, and government of Cornwall, Devon, Somerset, and Dorset from 1450 to 1500. But such an undertaking raises the fundamental question of whether a regional approach to the study of the south-western shires (or indeed any grouping of neighbouring counties anywhere in England) is valid–was there anything more to a ‘south-west region’ than simply a set of separate shires? That problem has made it necessary to study the south-west in a longer and broader context, in political terms, across the whole of the later fifteenth century (p.1). Certain aspects of the political history of south-west England have received attention from historians, mostly in the form of family or county studies… (p.19). Despite these admirable and informative studies, therefore, there are still significant lacunae in our understanding of particular aspects of the region’s governance during the later fifteenth century. Consequently, a regional investigation of the south-west political elites spanning the later fifteenth century might draw on earlier research and offer a broader perspective of court–country relations. A regional perspective of the interaction of local and national government would make possible a greater evaluation of the role of the duchy of Cornwall and the impact of the Wars of the Roses in the region (p. 21).

Edward IV’s ‘regional’ policy: The stimulus for this investigation was D.A.L. Morgan’s analysis of Edward IV’s second reign… Morgan proceeded to explain that this ‘territorial re-ordering’ was designed to cure disorder and lawlessness in the localities. Thus, Morgan suggested, Edward intended ‘the creation of an apanage’ for his second son, Richard, Duke of York, and that ‘by 1475 the plan was to endow him with a collection of lands in the East Midlands’. Also, the king ‘bent his efforts to making his elder son’s household at Ludlow the governing power in Wales and the West Midlands...and similarly to establishing his brother [Richard, Duke of] Gloucester as heir to the Neville lands and ruler of the North’. Furthermore ‘1474 saw the scheme pushed forward...and the beginning of an apanage endowment for the king’s stepson Thomas Grey [Marquess of Dorset] in the South-West’. Moreover, Edward’s ‘two leading household men were fitted in as the heads of further regional blocs’: his steward, Thomas, Lord Stanley, was ‘made undoubted ruler of Lancashire’, while ‘in Cheshire and north-east Wales also Stanley power was extended’ through Stanley’s brother, William; and the king’s chamberlain, William, Lord Hastings, ‘similarly emerged in 1474 as ruler of the North Midlands from Rockingham to the Peak’ (pp. 1–2). …the concept of Edward IV’s provincial policy raises much broader questions… whether this regional policy was planned or unintentional, and also as to whether its consequences were constructive or destructive. Furthermore, in a broader context, Edward’s scheme also suggests the importance of issues concerning the concept of regions, with potential implications for our study of politics and government in the localities, as well as questions regarding royal authority, governance, and the constitution, in general, in the later fifteenth century (p. 5). …This topic [Arbitration] is inseparable from the wider consideration of justice, and law and order, and these aspects could be the subject of substantial research in themselves; hence the remit of this study is specifically limited to questions of politics and governance. Arbitration of disputes may indicate a magnate’s influence and local standing, but this is, of course, not the only way in which to ascertain a magnate’s power in the localities: consideration of his estates, offices, and clientele reveals the extent to which his lordship pervaded local society (p. 8).

The difficulties of a (four-county) regional study: Since this regional survey spans four counties, it is, clearly, impossible to provide the depth and detail expected of a single-shire study–to undertake a four-county investigation with the same intensity and intricacy as a single-county survey would presumably take four times as long to complete. Instead, this study intends to give an overview of shire societies thereby examining how ‘regional’ was the political community of the south-west… This study aims to contribute to discourse on fifteenth-century governance not only because it investigates Edward IV’s regional policy (which, as mentioned, requires further research at a provincial level), but because a regional approach has not previously been attempted for south-west England during the late Middle Ages, and moreover because the duchy of Cornwall’s place in contemporaneous regional politics has never been thoroughly examined before (p. 21). …While there are obviously certain limitations to a study with such a regional breadth, these restrictions do not inhibit the worth or originality of this work as a whole–this investigation cannot claim to provide definitive answers but offers an alternative way of looking at the existing perceptions and perspectives of late-medieval English politics and governance (p. 22). …the problem of studying four shires presented difficulties over the arrangement of these analyses. Would an account of the south-western region as a whole give equal weighting to each constituent county? …the most appropriate arrangement seemed to be one which gave, as far as possible, each shire an analysis on an equal basis. Consequently, in each chronological chapter, accounts of local governance and politics are structured on a county-by-county model (p. 25). …The consequence of this equality of approach to the counties, and of the requirement to draw regional and national evaluations, is a certain amount of repetition… Yet, it is only by recognising the frequency with which particular individuals, connections, and structures reappear–across shires, and throughout the period–that it is possible to summarise the extent to which there was a ‘regional’ element to the western political elites (p. 26).

Regions and Identities in South-West England: …at first glance, Edward’s south-western regional hegemony does not appear to have been based on any pre-existing region in relation to geography, economy, or culture. From this exploration of the multiplicity of regions within, and inclusive of, the western counties two major arenas of interaction appear to have emerged: the couplings of Cornwall and Devon, and of Somerset and Dorset (p. 56). …Finally, with respect to political structure, there seems to have been no configuration that encompassed all four shires at a macro-scale… Political regions as the districts of lordship of magnates and institutions, such as the duchy of Cornwall, could vary in extent and over time, and may have even expanded to include all the south-western shires, in certain instances… (pp. 57–8). …The region was certainly a country of plural loyalties, multiple laws, and differing cultures (p. 58). …Clearly, an important part of this investigation is to discover whether the four western counties were subject to a shared political centre during the period. Did Edward’s regional magnates constitute political cores? (p. 59).

Lordship and the (re-)construction of affinities: A lord’s familia (his aggregate dependents) has been likened to a series of concentric circles, with the lord at the centre, and inner, middle, and outer circles... This description of concentric circles is merely illustrative since members of an affinity often overlapped between these categories, and the rings in themselves obviously lacked clear boundaries which makes the definitive assigning of individuals to such groupings difficult (p. 78). …though it seems a reasonable assumption to base strength of attachment on frequency of involvement, it is impossible to tell whether one client was less strongly attached than another; thus, irrespective of frequency, all clients require consideration… As a result of these uncertainties and limitations, the reconstruction of affinities is something of an imprecise art. Connection construction is not a simple task; the difficulties, and awareness of the subtleties, mean that there are few, if any, certainties regarding clients, so it is necessary to speak of only possibilities, probabilities, and likelihoods (p. 83). …This continuity of connections indicates how alignments continually changed and altered, were recreated and reshaped. While the politics and alignments of one decade or series of several years might appear evanescent, in reality, beneath the tumultuous surface of the manoeuvrings of local politics, affinities proved to be a durable foundation. Thus, perhaps, we should refer not so much to great-magnate-commanded affinities as to leading-gentry-led affiliations (p. 350).

Defining landed, administrative, and political elites: Perhaps the essential element in the definition of whom to include is a matter of allowing the individuals to select themselves for analysis through their frequent involvement in local political structures (p. 103). …the greatest gentry landowners comprised the elite of landed society–the pool from which participants in administrative society were recruited. Those who held the most county offices were the most important and influential–comprising the elite of administrative society. Although there will have been exceptions, in general, the greatest gentry landowners also held the most shire posts, so landed and administrative elites were almost synonymous. The political elite would therefore be virtually the same as the administrative elite (p. 106). …the ‘political elite’ was in total 347 individuals (82 peers; 265 gentry). There were a number of individuals who served in all the region’s counties therefore comprising what could be termed a ‘regional elite’: these totalled 35 individuals (14 peers; 21 gentry). (pp. 106–7) …in reality, ‘regional’ figures common to all counties were few in number, and were mostly peers (pp. 107–8).

The selection of case studies: Were families’ affiliations confined within shire boundaries or did they extend across the south-west? How did the gentry relate to their patrons–did clients transcend county boundaries when engaged on business with their patron? These questions will be answered by means of three detailed case studies: those of the Lords Hungerford, and the gentry families, Arundell of Lanherne (Cor.), and Edgcumbe of Cotehele (Cor.). These families have been specifically identified for a number of reasons–firstly, because successive heads of these families were frequently involved in county government and were important figures in their respective shires; and secondly, because of the well-preserved nature of their archives (p. 119).

County, two-county (meso-regional), and broader regional elites and identities: …the greater gentry were in a better position to form an identity that was regional in nature than the lesser gentry because of the broader nature of their landed, marital, and personal interests; in addition, they were also the individuals who would be recruited by magnates for the influence that they could wield over their clients. It appears possible to speak of ‘county elites’: the shires seem to have been the primary foci for identification … The ‘regional elite’–comprising those involved in all counties–was small in number, being composed mostly of peers and greater gentry. While there was a significant supra-shire dimension to elites’ landholding, office-holding, and marriages, this seems to have been focused on meso-scale regions–the coupled-county units of Somerset/Dorset, and Devon/Cornwall. (p. 147) …With the principal foci appearing to be at shire and meso-regional levels, the concept of a broader south-west regional identity seems somewhat problematic. However, that said, the trans-county and trans-regional nature of the Hungerford affinity–with many of the same clients utilised in transactions concerning different shires–shows how a magnate and his circle could provide a focus for patronage that was extra-county, perhaps even regional, in scope (p.148). The principal themes of this study have been the interplay of the contemporaneous politics of the south-western elites, and long-term shire and regional identities (p. 347). …The ‘regional elite’, as seen, appears to have consisted mostly of only a small number of peers and the greatest gentry who cannot be regarded as a purely ‘regional’ elite because of their possession of wide-ranging estates on a trans-regional or national scale. The surveys of landowning and office-holding showed that, amongst the political elites, there tended to be some emphasis on the county unit; yet, while there were distinct shire elites, there were also extra-county elements to their identities. A significant emphasis seems to have been on the meso-regional communities of Somerset/Dorset and Devon/Cornwall, corroborating the earlier exploration of the region’s broader geography, economy, and culture (pp. 347–8) ... Both sets of political elites seem to have become more entwined over the period, and there was a growing region-wide dimension… (p. 348).

Henry VI’s regime (1450–61): Henry VI’s inadequacy is widely held to have been the primary cause of the political upheavals of the mid-fifteenth century. To assess how this affected the south-west it is necessary, first, to give a brief regional review introducing the major figures; then, to consider the realities of governance, patronage, and landholding in Somerset, Dorset, Devon, and Cornwall. It is only after surveys of the county elites that a regional overview can be undertaken, which summarises the notable aspects, and evaluates those features that were truly ‘regional’ in nature by relating shire and provincial perspectives to national politics and governance (p. 149). In summary, it seems that the dukes of Somerset could not only depend on the cooperation of those directly associated with them (such as the Caraunts), but could also rely on the support of others indirectly through secondary patrons such as Stourton and Hungerford. So, including Stourton-Hungerford clients as indirect connections, analysis of shire positions indicates the extent to which the Beauforts’ influence probably pervaded Somerset political society. Beaufort associates had regularly fulfilled local offices since the 1420s, and of the sheriffs’ terms between 1437 and 1450, almost half were undertaken by Beaufort clients. In comparison, between 1450 and 1461, over a third of sheriffs’ terms were served by Beaufort clients (p. 155). As discussed regarding Devon, during the earl of Devon’s long minority, leading Devon gentry–Sir William Bonville and his clientele–involved themselves in Courtenay dependants’ affairs; hence, on his majority, the young earl lacked local support. The relationship between the earl and Bonville became poisoned after Sir William was designated steward of duchy estates in the county in 1437. This challenge to his authority enraged the earl to resort to violence (p. 174). In the south-west, if the Beauforts provided a Lancastrian focus in the eastern counties, then the duchy of Cornwall provided another further west, where [Lord] Bonville also provided a specifically Yorkist focus (pp. 186–7). Therefore, by a combination of estates, royal offices, and prince’s council membership, [James Butler, Earl of] Wiltshire might have become a provincial magnate–and a national power-broker–if he had had a longer period of time in which to establish himself (p. 188).

Edward IV’s policy of ‘Regional Governance’ (1461–71): During Edward IV’s first reign, Somerset politics was still influenced by the Stourton and Hungerford affinities which may have sought the patronage of Edward’s courtier, Humphrey Stafford. He was the only son of the Beaufort-Stourton client William Stafford by Katherine Chideock, and it was because of his Chideock inheritance (principally focussed in Somerset, Dorset, and Wiltshire) that he was destined to be a leading member of the Somerset gentry. In the later 1450s, Stafford may have been associated with the earl of Wiltshire whose first wife was his cousin (pp. 192–3). The Bonville-FitzWaryn alliance had dominated Devon politics throughout the 1440s and 1450s (see Chapter 5) but on Bonville’s death in 1461, his sole heir was his infant great-granddaughter, Cecily. Naturally, a child could not provide adequate leadership to the Bonville-FitzWaryn connection. Moreover, Bonville’s allies, Lord FitzWaryn and Sir Philip Courtenay, were also both entering their sixties (both were deceased before 1470), and similarly could not provide the dynamic direction that was required. Into this leadership void, stepped Lord Stafford (p. 207). …[Humphrey, Lord] Stafford [of Southwick] became a crucial national–regional power-broker–one of the pillars upon which rested the pediment of Yorkist government (p. 210). It seems clear that Lord Stafford’s land-holding, office-holding, and clientele suggest that he acted as a political core for the south-west region. Stafford’s inheritances already made him a significant figure in Somerset and Dorset but, favoured by Edward IV, he was granted extensive lands forfeited by Lancastrians throughout the south-west, such as the estates of the earldom of Devon. In addition to his own properties, Stafford was showered with many offices in Somerset and Dorset, as well as other positions of immense significance in the region–in particular, his endowment with the most important duchy of Cornwall offices ensured that he dominated Cornwall (p. 221). It seems quite understandable to find that, as a figure of local, regional, and national importance, Lord Stafford’s associations were regional in nature: he was connected to major figures from each county… (pp. 221–2).

Edward IV’s second reign (1471–83): The involvement of household retainers in local government was one aspect that was common to all counties. There were a number of household sheriffs, as shown, and there seems to have been little difference in this policy from Edward’s first reign or, indeed, from that of Henry VI (p. 264). During his second reign, Edward persisted in pursuing his ideal of regional governance: his favourites were established as provincial ‘governors’ just as during the 1460s (p. 264)… However, just as in his first reign, the serious faults of this vicegerential system inevitably re-surfaced: focusing royal patronage on a limited number of courtiers encouraged the view that the regime was exclusive; but, more importantly–given the motivation–any regional magnate would have had the resources and capacity, potentially, to depose the king (pp. 264–5).

Richard III’s government (1483–5): The scale of the insurgency in the south-west–and the consequent reality of Richard’s post-sedition lack of support–forced him into inserting short-term leaders into localities. Richard’s solution was to depend upon those of his courtiers he did trust–his own ducal northern retainers. Hence, in order to remedy his lack of support, he inserted his trusted northerners into the southern counties, including the south-west; naturally, those shires with more intrigants required a greater number of Richard’s imposed supporters (pp. 298–9). Richard’s intensely difficult circumstances meant that, ideally, he would have to over-endow magnates–in the short-term–to be certain to secure their support. So, Richard’s distribution of patronage may have been too restrained for his precarious situation. Perhaps it was the reserved character of patronage that provoked [the Duke of] Buckingham to rebel. Similarly, it may have been the limited nature of their endowments that weakened the authority of Richard’s [Northern] plantations (p. 302).

Future motor neurons are located ventrally, and form the ventral roots of the spinal cord. The neurons of the sensory nervous system develop from neural crest cells. The dorso-ventral organization of the spinal cord is produced by Sonic hedgehog protein signals from ventral regions such as the notochord. Sonic hedgehog forms a gradient of activity from ventral to dorsal in the neural tube, and acts as the ventral patterning positional signal. As well as being organized along the dorso-ventral axis, neurons at different positions along the antero-posterior axis of the spinal cord become specified to serve different functions. The antero-posterior specification of neuronal function in the spinal cord was dramatically illustrated some 40 years ago by experiments in which a section of the spinal cord that would normally innervate wing muscles was transplanted from one chick embryo into the region that normally serves the legs of another embryo. Chicks developing from the grafted embryos spontaneously activated both legs together, as though they were trying to flap their wings, rather than activating each leg alternately as if walking. These studies showed that motor neurons generated at a given antero-posterior level in the spinal cord had intrinsic properties characteristic of that position. The spinal cord becomes demarcated into different regions along the antero-posterior axis by combinations of expressed Hox genes. A typical vertebrate limb contains more than 50 muscle groups with which neurons must connect in a precise pattern. Individual neurons express particular combinations of Hox genes, which determine which muscle they will innervate. So all together, expression of genes resulting from dorso-ventral position together with those resulting from antero-posterior position confers a virtually unique identity on functionally distinct sets of neurons in the spinal cord.

The ancestors of modern Ukrainians lived in dozens of premodern and modern principalities, kingdoms, and empires, and in the course of time they took on various names and identities. The two key terms that they used to define their land were “Rus’” and “Ukraine.” (In the Cyrillic alphabet, Rus’ is spelled Pycь: the last character is a soft sign indicating palatalized pronunciation of the preceding consonant.) The term “Rus’,” brought to the region by the Vikings in the ninth and tenth centuries, was adopted by the inhabitants of Kyivan Rus’, who took the Viking princes and warriors into their fold and Slavicized them. The ancestors of today’s Ukrainians, Russians, and Belarusians adopted the name “Rus’” in forms that varied from the Scandinavian/Slavic “Rus’” to the Hellenized “Rossiia.” In the eighteenth century, Muscovy adopted the latter form as the official name of its state and empire.

HISTORY HAS BEEN used and abused more than once in the Ukraine Crisis, informing and inspiring its participants but also justifying violations of international law, human rights, and the right to life itself. The Russo-Ukrainian conflict, while arising unexpectedly and taking many of those involved by surprise, has deep historical roots and is replete with historical references and allusions. Leaving aside the propagandistic use of historical arguments, at least three parallel processes rooted in the past are now going on in Ukraine: Russia’s attempts to reestablish political, economic, and military control in the former imperial space acquired by Moscow since the mid-seventeenth century; the formation of modern national identities, which concerns both Russians and Ukrainians (the latter often divided along regional lines); and the struggle over historical and cultural fault lines that allow the participants in the conflict to imagine it as a contest between East and West, Europe and the Russian World.

Lucy is no longer embarrassed, can talk about anything with him. In the beginning, it was a different story, a horror and humiliation that a benign pituitary macroadenoma—a brain tumor-was causing an over production of the hormone prolactin that fooled her body into thinking she was pregnant. Her periods stopped. She gained weight. She didn't have galactorrhea, or begin produce milk, but had she not discovered what was wrong when she did, that would have been next. "Sounds like you're not seeing anyone." He slides her MR films out of their envelopes, reaches up, and attaches them to light boxes. "Nope." "How's your libido?" He dims the lights in the office and flips on the light boxes, illuminating films of Lucy's brain. "Dostinex is sometimes called the sex drug, you know. Well, if you can get it." She moves close to him and looks at her films. "I'm not having sur gery, Nate." She stares dismally at the somewhat rectangular-shaped region of hy pointensity at the base of the hypothalamus. Every time she looks at one of her scans, she feels there must be a mistake. That can't be her brain. A young brain, as Nate calls it. Anatomically, a great brain, he says, t cept for one little glitch, a tumor about half the size of a penny I don't care what the journal articles say. No one's cutting on me How do I look? Please tell me okay," she says. Nate compares the earlier film to the new one, studies them side by side. "Not dramatically different. Still seven to eight millimeters. Nothing in the suprasellar cistern. A little shift left to right from the infundibu lum of the pituitary stalk." He points with a pen. "Optic chiasm is clea Points again. "Which is great." He puts down the pen and holds up two fingers, starts with them together, then moves them apart to check her peripheral vision. "Great," he says again. "So almost identical. The lesion isn't growing." "It isn't shrinking." "Have a seat.

The result is that, according to the New Statesman, 90 per cent of the population [of Denmark] enjoy an approximately identical standard of living.’ This striking economic equality lies not only at the core of the happiness and success of the Danes but of the people of the Nordic region as a whole.

Wondering whether he had stumbled upon a scoop the journalist asked the Chairman who the Americans in the next room were. ‘They are an American delegation who are doing a tour of the region to apologise for the crusades,’ said Arafat. Then he, and his guest, burst out laughing. They both knew that America had little or no involvement in the wars of the eleventh to thirteenth centuries. But Arafat, at any rate, was happy to indulge the affliction of anyone who believed they had and use it to his own political advantage.

The heartland is the political, cultural, demographic and – crucially – the agricultural centre of gravity. About a billion people live in this part of China, despite it being just half the size of the United States, which has a population of 327 million. Because the terrain of the heartland lent itself to settlement and an agrarian lifestyle, the early dynasties felt threatened by the non-Han regions which surrounded them, especially Mongolia with its nomadic bands of violent warriors. China chose the same strategy as Russia: attack as defence, leading to power. As we shall see, there were natural barriers which – if the Han could reach them and establish control – would protect them. It was a struggle over millennia, only fully realised with the annexation of Tibet in 1951. By the time of the famous Chinese philosopher Confucius (551–479 BCE) there was a strong feeling of Chinese identity and of a divide between civilised China and the ‘barbarous’ regions which surrounded it. This was a sense of identity shared by 60 million or so people.

The Uraratu people (spelled "rrt" in Hebrew, the identical spelling of Ararat in Hebrew)2 settled in this region, and their name was essentially given to this range of mountains. Moses, having been educated in Egypt, was aware of this people group, and these mountains that were named for this people group. So when editing Genesis together, he used the name "Ararat.

Many are still floundering in the darkness trying to gain self-esteem as a personality Trying to sustain an Earth body with a personality Connect with the super conscious regions of the mind and realise the self-esteem that you are really looking for is your identity in timelessness Your intricate part in the operation of creative life

In China, the one holdout from Beijing time is Xinjiang, a mountainous and desert region in the west that partially observes Xinjiang Time (or Ürümqi Time, named after the capital of Xinjiang). Situated on China’s border with Kazakhstan, Xinjiang is home to the Uyghur, whose pan-Islamic and pan-Turkic identity has never sat well with the Chinese Communist Party. Although Xinjiang was designated an autonomous region in the 1950s, China began trying to assimilate it politically, a project that included an effort to officially abolish Xinjiang Time in 1968. On the one hand, Xinjiang Time appears merely practical: Xinjiang is more than a thousand miles west of Beijing, which puts its solar time two hours behind that of the capital. A sanitation worker in Ürümqi told The New York Times he thought they must be the only people who eat dinner at midnight (by which he meant Beijing midnight). But Xinjiang Time is fundamentally cultural, running along ethnic lines: Local TV networks put their schedules for Chinese channels in Beijing time, while Uyghur and Kazakh channels are in Xinjiang Time. In a period when the Chinese Communist Party’s efforts have moved from assimilation to anti-Islamic annihilation, observation of Xinjiang Time could not be more political. Uyghurs have been subjected to sterilization, forced labor, detainment in reeducation camps, and bans on Uyghur cultural materials and practices.

free relationship—” “Truly free relationships are also responsible ones. Any attempt to deemphasize the true community of the universal Church in favor of the supposedly more democratic model of regional churches is a grave mistake. One of the consistent tactics of tyranny is to divide and neutralize its opponents, to isolate those movements or voices that stand in opposition to the dissolving of identity.

If California is the future of the United States, Los Angeles may offer a lesson. In 1960, it was 72 percent white, but in just ten years that figure dropped to 59 percent, and by 2000 the city was only 33 percent white. During the 1980s, while every other racial group was gaining in numbers, Los Angeles County lost 330,000 whites, and a startling 570,000 during the 1990s. Where did they go? Beginning in the 1980s, California saw a major shift of whites from southern, immigrant-heavy regions to the white north. Many moved to Nevada County, which Mel Mouser, the police chief of the town of Grass Valley, called 'the largest concentration of Caucasians in the state of California.' In the 15 years ending in 1995, the county's population grew by no less than 65 percent and remained 93 percent white. The newcomers were looking for the kind of homogeneity they grew up with but had lost to immigrants. As Chief Mouser explained, the newcomers 'bring with them the common strain of thought: Don't let it be like where I came from.' Although Americans have learned to give non-racial reasons like 'crime' or 'bad schools' for leaving cities, many ex-Los Angelenos were candid about what drove them away. As one 1990s transplant explained, 'People come here for a timeout, to go some place where racial problems don't exist. [...] And when they find it here, they're pathetically grateful. They want to protect it.' Another explained: 'I'd look at my daughter's classroom and see two blondes. [...] It seemed like there was more of everything else but whites.

For as long as statistics have been kept, blacks have had higher crime rates than whites. Containing crime is one of the top priorities of any society, so it is perplexing that the United States has added to its crime problem through immigration. Hispanics, who have been by far the most numerous post-1965 immigrant group, commit crimes at rates lower than blacks but higher than whites. Some people claim that all population groups commit crimes at the same rates, and that racial differences in incarceration rates reflect police and justice system bias. This view is wrong. The US Department of Justice carefully tracks murder, which is the violent crime for which racial data on victim and perpetrator are most complete. In 2005, the department noted that blacks were six times more likely than whites to be victims of murder and seven times more likely to commit murder. There are similar differences for other crimes. The United States regularly conducts a huge, 100,000-person crime study known as the National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS), in which Americans are asked to describe the crimes of which they have been victim during the year, and to indicate race of perpetrator. NCVS figures are therefore a reliable indication of the racial distribution of violent criminals. The National Incident-Based Reporting System (NIBRS) is another huge database that records the races of all suspects reported to the police as well as those arrested by police. Both these data sets prove that blacks commit a vastly disproportionate amount of violent crime. In fact, blacks are arrested less frequently than would be expected from reports by crime victims of the race of perpetrator. Racial differences in arrest rates reflect racial differences in crime rates, not police bias. Justice Department figures show that blacks commit crimes and are incarcerated at roughly 7.2 times the white rate, and Hispanics at 2.9 times the white rate. (Asians are the least crime-prone group in America, and are incarcerated at only 22 percent of the white rate.) Robbery or “mugging” shows the greatest disparities, with blacks offending at 15 times and Hispanics at just over four times the white rate. There are practically no crimes blacks and Hispanics do not commit at higher rates than whites, whether it is larceny, car theft, drug offenses, burglary, rape, or alcohol offenses. Even for white collar crimes—fraud, racketeering, bribery/conflict of interest, embezzlement—blacks are incarcerated at three to five times the white rate, and Hispanics at about twice the white rate. Racial differences in crime rates are such an embarrassment they can interfere with law enforcement. In 2010 the Greater Cleveland Regional Transit Authority had a problem with scores of young people openly beating fares—which cuts into revenue and demoralizes other riders. It considered a crackdown, but decided against it. The scoff-laws were overwhelmingly black, and the transit authority did not have the stomach to take any action that would fall heavily on minorities.

The push for diversity can lead to absurd results. Bone marrow donations almost never work unless donor and recipient are the same race, so non-white patients suffer because almost all the people who register as donors are white. In 2008, the National Marrow Donor Program announced that all marrow registries would be required to meet quotas for minority donors. Officials at St. Luke’s Mountain States Tumor Institute in Boise, Idaho said they would have to shut down their donor registry because the demographics of the region made it impossible to find more than a handful of non-white donors. Likewise, the largely white Amity Regional School District that serves the eastern suburbs of New Haven, Connecticut, stood to lose tens of thousands of dollars in federal money because it did not have enough non-white autistic students. The district had no control over who was diagnosed with the condition, but federal officials said a ratio of 38 whites, one black, and one Asian was “significantly disproportionate,” and threatened to withhold $67,000.

My host denied any rivalry existed, because Iran wasn't playing the same game as Turkey. If there was any race, it should be compared to the story of the tortoise and the hare. The Turks were investing all sorts of money in television, the press, and high-profile visits in an effort to dominate the new republics, Habkin said. But this was a short term policy that would explode in their faces when the local cultures decided to define their own place in the sun The Turks were likely to lose a lot of money--and respect--when that happened. Iran's policy, in contrast, was one based on regional stability and allowing the new republics to make up their own minds about where their interests and identities lay. There was no competition in this, it wasn't a zero-sum game: Iran had things to offer and Turkey had things to offer; so did Pakistan, and even Afghanistan, once it recovered from its decade-long civil war. Let the Azeris and the Central Asians come and take a look and decide for themselves what they wanted to take from Iran's material, moral and political culture, Habkin said. Iran wasn't beating people over the head with this ideology or that. What you see is what you get.

It was no accident that one of the advertising slogans for Holiday Inn, a chain that found success by building hundreds of motels near freeways and interstates, was “Holiday Inn. The best surprise is no surprise.” In this way, freeways have helped to rob many places of their personalities, smothering regional character under a blanket of sand and gravel. The interstates are designed to be monotonous, engineered to the same standards, governed by the same speed limits, with signs in identical colors and fonts indicating the distance to the next city. As a result they induce highway hypnosis, providing an experience less like motoring than like sitting on a vast concrete conveyor belt, cruise-controlling along with no effort required beyond keeping one eye on the road and another on your gas gauge, for mile after mile after mile. That numbing sameness reduces the landscape to a blur interrupted at regular intervals by overbright outposts of gas stations and fast-food chains, replicated in slightly different configurations right across the entire country, so that you can have breakfast at a Denny’s in the morning in Nashville and dinner at what appears to

Still, many commentators divined in the 2000 map a baleful cultural cleavage, a looming crisis over identity and values. “This nation has rarely appeared more divided than it does right now,” moaned David Broder, the Washington Post’s pundit-in-chief, in a story published a few days after the election. The two regions were more than mere voting blocs; they were complete sociological profiles, two different Americas at loggerheads with each other.

The point is not to search for “true” national or regional culture, to finally discover our national identity (pulling it up, as it were, from the bottom of a stream bed or catching it in a butterfly net); but to seek out cultural difference, striving to be always different not only from others but from ourselves. Historians can contribute decisively to the collapse of the traditions and identities that imprison us, that reproduce us as a nation always looking for itself or a region always clamoring for charity. For this to happen it will be necessary that each historical work be as much a meditation on how history is written, its language and narrative and its ostensible relation with the “real,” as on history itself as past issues and processes. The thrust of historical analysis should be on the present, discovering it in its multiplicity of spaces and temporalities, considering the various pasts that are in each of us and the diverse futures that may come to pass.

For those of us with ties to the region, if we simply take on northeastern identity as it is, one based on exclusion and submission, we will continue to occupy the expected places in Brazilian hierarchies. Our voice will be only for begging and lamenting, our gaze only for bearing stoic witness and tearfully appealing to the consciences of faraway leaders. On the other hand, if we denounce the networks of power that marginalize and stereotype the great majority of people living in the Northeast, we must not fall into the trap of leveraging the identity of the region as inherently, collectively resistant and revolutionary. We should affirm all the ways we are not nordestinos at all, in the consecrated sense. The ways of being nordestino are innumerable and untold. We need to question the lenses through which nordestinos are seen and see themselves, as well as the words that circulate about them through the mouths and writings of nordestinos and non-nordestinos alike.

The characteristics of the region as an art center — geographically remote, overly conscious of regional identity, and desiring not to be another commonsense Midwest or an appendage of New York or California culture — predisposed local artists to domination by the first individual personalities to manifest both independence and exoticism.

However, while examining spaces of worship serves as a useful avenue for understanding elements of Muslim practice, by no means does it tell us everything about Muslim identities, which cannot be simply reduced to religious convictions or beliefs. While religious beliefs are certainly important for many, we need to be aware that Muslims similarly relate to their regional cultures or their positions in society; for Islam has many voices – and equally as many faces.