Where is gizmo x in downworld

Open June to students in grades kindergarten through six, the camp will be taught by foreign languages department head Lucia Harrison. It will combine learning Spanish with fun activities from dancing and singing to puppet shows and fairy tales. For additional information, contact Harrison, , fax , or lharrison selu. Bedell can be reached at , fax , or jbedell selu. In this July camp, participants will build and launch a solid-fueled Screamer model rocket, and investigate the mysteries of the solar system from the sands of Mars to the icy rings of Saturn.

Participants will explore the far reaches of space as they design a Mars Rover, build a telescope and discover the dark secret of black holes. They will traverse land, sea and sky with magnetic cars, submarines, and rocket planes and create a bouncing superball. The first of four two-week sessions is already underway, but additional sessions are scheduled June July 1, July , and July August 6. The camps are open to boys and girls ages years old.

Counselors -- graduate and undergraduate students in kinesiology and health studies and elementary education -- will lead young campers in developing sports skills and enjoying recreational games and swimming.

With the emergence during those years of such phenom- ena as Pop Art, happenings, concrete poetry, various forms of aleatory and "modular" music, and so on, cognitivism is shifted to the sidelines of innovatory art, displaced by what Higgins is forced to call "postcogni- tive" art. If he is unwilling to define too narrowly the characteristics of postcognitivism - it is, after all, an art still in the making, still emergent - Higgins at least specifies that in it, by contrast with cognitive art, issues of identity and the subject of cognition dwindle in importance.

The persona of the artist is submerged in the gestalt of the artwork, and the mythic image of the artist, so strong in modernism, is weakened nearly to the point of obliteration. And what am I in it? What is to be done in it? Which of my selves is to do it?

This is partly because of its more overt fictionality. To begin a historical narrative entitled, incidentally, "A Child's History of Fluxus" "Long ago, back when the world was young," is obviously to evoke the generic conventions of the fairy tale; to continue by specifying the date - instead of a more conventional "round number" such as - is to confirm that this is fictionalized history.

This is the same sort of gesture as Virginia Woolf's specification of December as the moment on or about which human nature changed. In both cases what is explicitly offered us is a useful fiction, an "as if" proposition, not the "truth. Comparison is tricky, however, because the two stories bear on quite different corpuses: where Barth is exclusively concerned with literary fiction, Higgins seems interested in everything but literary fiction, and even seems disposed to dismiss fiction as by definition cognitivist and "passeist" I shall take the liberty of extrapolating Higgins's story of the postcognitive breakthrough to the kinds of texts Barth discusses, to see what kind of work his version of the story might be capable of, by comparison with Barth's.

Gradually, through parallelisms and mirrorings among its various ontologi- cal levels objects imagined into being within the world of Tlon, the world of Tlon itself, the fictional world of the story "Tlon," the real world in which Borges once wrote and we now read the story , a whole series of postcognitive ontological questions come into focus: how many worlds?

Thus, according to the account that Higgins might give, the divide separating late-modernism from postmodernism ought to fall, not where Barth located it, between Borges's "Tlon" and writers of replenish- ment such as Calvino and Garcia Marquez, but in such a way as to include Borges along with Calvino and Garcia Marquez on the postcognitive, postmodernist side of the line.

Thus, Barth's account of Samuel Beckett's career is a story of progressive exhaustion, of writing that approaches ever nearer to the silence which is its logical ultimate con- clusion Barth b This effaces the differences between earlier and later Beckett: between the Beckett who is still preoccupied with modernist issues of reliability and unreliability of narrators, radical subjec- tivity, and multiplicity of perspectives, as in Watt and Molloy, and the Beckett who focuses instead on the status of fictional worlds, the power and impotence of language to make and unmake worlds, and the relation- ship between fictional being and elusive "real" being, as in Malone Dies, The Unnamable, and many of the later short texts see McHale Barth effaces, in short, the distinction between the cognitivist and the postcognitivist Beckett.

Again, just such a distinction between the cognitivist earlier Nabokov, author of Lolita and Pale Fire, and the postcognitivist later Nabokov, author of Ada and Look at the Harlequins, could be extrapolated from Higgins's version of the story. On the other hand, when Barth does recognize a shift of orientation in a writer's career, Higgins's narrative might serve to corroborate rather than contradict Barth's. Thus, for example, Barth, in the "Replenishment" essay of , briefly traces the stages of Calvino's development from the neorealism of The Path to the Nest of Spiders to the full-fledged postmodernism of Cosmicomics and Castle of Crossed Destinies Barth c In this case, Higgins's narrative would be likely to parallel Barth's, mapping out parallel stages from cognitivism to postcognitivism in Calvino's oeuvre.

But even where, as here, Barth's and Higgins's stories appear to unfold in parallel, the two stories prove to be differently motivated. For Barth, Calvino qualifies as a postmodernist writer of replenishment because he synthesizes the premodernist gratifi- cations of storytelling with modernist self-consciousness and high artistry.

Telling postmodernist stories For Higgins, on the other hand, Calvino might be thought of as a postcog- nitivist in Castle of Crossed Destinies because he relinquishes control of "his" narrative to chance configurations of the tarot cards, thereby submer- ging his artistic persona in the gestalt of the aleatory or quasi -aleatory work see Higgins Higgins's story, then, is in my view preferable to Barth's for strategic reasons. It makes only the claims on our belief that fiction does - no more, but no less.

It has "the right degree of unexpectedness" Matei Calinescu's phrase, Calinescu b It "fits" better than Barth's: internally better-organized, more coherent, more "compact," it brings together better than Barth's does texts, writers and phenomena which seem properly to "go together," while keeping separate, again better than Barth's, things which seem properly kept apart.

It seems likely to be a highly productive story, enabling us to tell many exciting sub-narratives about the manifold adventures of cognitivism through the centuries, its crisis in the middle decades of the twentieth century, and the strange birth of new, postcognitive forms.

For instance, Higgins suggests in several places how we might begin to disinter early, precursor postcognitivists such as Satie, Duchamp, Joyce, Gertrude Stein, and the Dadaists from the mass of dominant cognitive art which surrounded them and tends to obscure their true outlines from us Higgins , ; d.

Lethen Finally, Higgins's story seems to me - and to others too, I would hope - intrinsically a more interesting story than the one Barth tells. As a test of the usefulness of Higgins's account, perhaps we might return to the text with which we started, Max Apple's "Post-Modernism," and try rereading it in the light of Higgins's "little narrative" of the postcognitive breakthrough.

With this metafictional gesture, he invites us into the fiction-writer's work- shop to demonstrate for us how a fictional person, and with him a world, is made. Stroke by stroke, detail by detail, Apple builds up his character: a contemporary writer, student of the modernists, who uses a word pro- cessor; who lives in a world which also contains morning newspapers, Colonel Qaddafi, Target Stores and Woolco and K-Mart and other retail chains, Texas Instruments pocket calculators, and so on; but nameless as yet.

We are shown, in effect, what Borges also shows us in his equally brief but ontologically more spacious story of Tlon: the construction or projection of a world by a fictional text, with the reader's collaboration. All fictions do this, of course, but this one does it in full view and in slow motion, as it were. Then, abruptly, the world-making operation is suspended. At a stroke, the character-in-the-making vanishes into a kind of limbo; still legible, he has nevertheless been canceled, placed sous rature.

Having erased his character, however, Apple next proceeds to construct, again in full view and slow motion, a new one, female this time where the first was male; this time bearing a name, Joyce Carol, where the first one was nameless; also a writer, but of women's Gothic romances, not avant-garde postmodernist fiction; a widow with quintuplets to support; living in a world which also contains the National Enquirer, fertility drugs, weight-lifting, and so on.

Thus Apple leads us through an entire cycle of fictional creation, de-creation, and re-creation, laying bare in the process the fiction-writer's ways of world-making, and asserting his freedom to project a world "Shall I project a world? In the process he also lays bare some of the essential characteristics of the ontological structure of fictional works and their worlds. He draws our attention, for instance, to the partial indeterminacy, the "gappiness," of fictional objects, including fictional characters.

No description of a fictional character could ever be complete in the way that we suppose real people at least ourselves are complete: No doubt I've made some mistakes.

In my descriptions I forgot to tell you how she looked, the color of her hair or skin or eyes. Apple "In the case of fictional worlds," writes Roman Ingarden, "it is always as if a beam of light were illuminating a part of a region, the remainder of which disappears in an indeterminate cloud but is still there in its indeterminacy" Some of the indeterminacy of fictional worlds and the objects in them is permanent: we will never be able to close the gap.

Other gaps, however, are temporary, designed to be filled in by the reader in the process of realizing or concretizing the text. If you want to know any of the nonrevelations you'll have to help me out; after all, readers and listeners are always friends" But just because "Post-Modernism" foregrounds and lays bare the pro- cess of world-making and -unmaking and the ontological structure of the fictional world, does this necessarily mean it qualifies as "postcognitive" in Dick Higgins's sense?

Or is he so firmly in place? Throughout the first half of "Post- Modernism," Apple seems to be inscribing himself into his text in the persona of its writer-hero, building up a portrait of the artist as a postmod- ernist; but then abruptly, even aggressively, he denies his autobiographical presence here, in effect erasing his self-inscription: you assumed, no doubt, that it was me. You were wrong. I don't even know how to type and am allergic to word processors.

Furthermore, I have never read a thesaurus and I do my work standing at a Formica-topped counter. Apple But if that inscribed author, the postmodernist writer-hero, turns out not to have been the "real" Max Apple, then perhaps this one is, the one who intervenes in his own text to set things straight.

He isn't, of course, any more than the other one was. This inscribed author is every bit as fictional as the earlier inscribed author had been; the ontological barrier between inscribed characters and real-world persons is unbreachable. We have, in short, a situation analogous to the one in Borges's astonishing two-page tour de force, "Borges y yo" , in which the real author and the inscribed fictional author displace one another turn and turn-about, until the "real" author is lost in the shuffle of selves: "I don't know which one of the two of us is writing this page" In short, "Post- Modernism" constructs a subject of cognition only to deconstruct it, dispersing it among the various authorial inscriptions.

Thus Apple's story passes beyond modernist cognitivism to what Higgins would call postcog- nitivism. For by exploring and exposing the postcognitive, ontological aspects of fictional world- making, the structure of fictional worlds and their contents, and the problematic presence of the author in his text, Apple turns out to be doing what Annie Dillard calls "unlicensed metaphysics in a teacup" But of course it's only a story. It's always safe to mention Aristotle in literate company.

I have known this since my freshman year in college. Furthermore, that esteemed philo- sopher by praising Homer for showing rather than telling gave all storytel- lers forever after the right to stop being philosophers whenever it suits us, which is most of the time. So, invoking sacred Aristotle and having no theory to tell, I will show you a little post-modernism. Alas, I have to do this with words, a medium so slow that it took two hundred years to clean up Chaucer enough to make Shakespeare, and has taken three hundred years since then to pro- duce the clarity of Gertrude Stein.

Anyway, I confess that we writers are as bored as any other artists. We get sick of imitating the old masters, the recent masters, and the best sellers. We are openly jealous of composers who can use atonal sounds, painters who experiment with xerography and sculptors with Silly Putty and polyester.

Other makers of artistic objects have all this new technology, not to speak of color, and here we are stuck with the rules of grammar, bogged down with beginnings, middles, and ends, and constantly praying that the muse will send us a well-rounded lifelike character. As an exercise, let's imagine a character who is a contemporary writer. There he is sitting before his word processor thinking, What will it be today, some of the same old modernist stuff, a little stream-of-consciousness perhaps with a smattering of French and German?

Or maybe he looks out the window, notices the menacing weather, and thinks, This will be a day of stark realism. Lots of he saids and she saids punctuated by brutal silences. As he considers epiphanies, those commonplace events that Joyce put at the heart of his aesthetic, our writer scans the morning paper.

This is a research activity. In the trivial he will find the significant, isn't that what art is all about? So the writer looks, and it is astonishingly easy. There it is, the first gift of the muse. One column quotes Colonel Muammar Qaddafi of Libya stating that his nation is ready to go to war against the United States. The writer is stunned. K-Mart and, under various aliases, by Sears, Penney's, and Ward's.

Never has it been offered with the battery included. This is something altogether new. He remembers Ezra Pound's dictum, "Make it new. And the sad thing is, this particular ad will never appear again. Qaddafi will be quoted endlessly, but the sale was "today only". This is one of the ambiguities the writer has to live with.

Of course our writer doesn't equate Target and the battery to war and peace, not even to the United States and Libya. He hardly considers the nuance of the language that uses the same terms for commerce and war: "Target," "battery," "calculate" - he can't help it if the language is a kind of garbage collector of meanings. All he wants to do is know for sure if that nine-volt battery is really included.

His imagination roams the Mediterranean, but the writer will suppress all his political and moral feelings. He will focus absolutely on that calcu- lator and its quizzical battery. He will scarcely notice the webbed beach chair peeking out of the next box or the sheer panty hose or any of the other targeted bargains.

Let's leave our writer for a moment with apologies to Aristotle and begin to do a bit of analysis. Of course you have known all along that I have been trying to demonstrate a "post-modern" attitude. Maybe you would characterize this attitude as a mixture of world weariness and cleverness, an attempt to make you think that I'm half kidding, though you're not quite sure about what. But even in this insignificant example nothing quite fits. It should be easy. We have only one character, the writer.

He was sitting before his word processor and reading the paper. He was not described, so you assumed, no doubt, that it was me. The writer I was talking about was Joyce Carol, a young widow sup- porting quintuplets by reviewing books for regional little magazines.

Her husband died in a weight-lifting accident. Her quints were, you have already guessed, the chemical outcome of what for years had seemed a God-given infertility. Exxon or even selling industrial cleaners and have a company car to boot; but then who would stay home with the quints? Poor Joyce Carol is stuck with being a book reviewer as women have been stuck at home with books and children for at least two hundred years.

She is also about to begin composing her thirty-ninth gothic romance. Ladies in fifteenth-century costume will waste away for love while men in iron garments carry fragrant mementoes of their ladies and worry about the blade of their enemy penetrating the few uncovered spots of flesh.

Joyce Carol's quints lie in a huge brass carriage. They are attended by five Vietnamese wet nurses and a group therapist. There is a photographer from the National Enquirer doing an in-depth story on the drug that gave Joyce Carol her quints. He is blacking out fingers and toes on the babes and asking the wet nurses to look forlorn. Joyce Carol used to write exquisite stories of girls who couldn't decide whether they truly loved their lovers enough to love them.

Her stories ended in wistfulness with the characters almost holding hands. Two were sold to the movies but never produced. It occurs to me that you're probably not very interested in Miss Carol. No doubt I've made some mistakes. Wallace Stevens once said, "Description is revelation," and you know, I fell for it. If you want to know any of the nonrevelations you'll have to help me out; after all, readers and listeners are always friends.

I can only tell you that Joyce Carol is modest and desperate. She has a peasant's cunning, and you would not want to be her sister or roommate.

She spends a lot of time missing her weight-lifter husband. The five offspring and the thirty-nine novels do not make her miss him any less. She sits at the word processor and imagines his strained biceps. When he pushed the bar over his head he grunted like an earthquake and won her heart.

In her own life Joyce Carol is undeluded by romantic conventions. She is sitting there before you virtually undescribed, a schematic past, a vague future, possibly a bad credit risk as well. Lots of times the strings of words she composes make all the difference to her. He carries a bag of infidel teeth as a souvenir for his lady. His horse slouches away from Bethlehem. Joyce Carol looks up from her labor. The wet nurses are cuddling the babes. She is glad that she did not choose to bottle-feed.

The Enquirer photographer snaps his pictures. In the photographs the fingers of the infants almost touch. Everything is the way it is. There are those who regard this as a fatuous remark e. Mepham ; certainly it is paradoxical. If we are sufficiently impatient with paradox we may try to smooth out the logical kink in this one by supposing that Lyotard has perversely used a post where he ought to have used a pre: for "postmodern- ism" read "premodernism" and the kink unkinks.

But no, we are not to be let off the hook so easily: "this state is constant," Lyotard tells us. How can any state which is identified as either pre or post some other state also be "constant"? The kink returns. If we can even entertain such a paradox, then something must be wrong with the opposition between modernism and postmodernism, and perhaps even with periodization in general. We can entertain it, I think and I shall show how later ; and indeed, in a certain sense, something is wrong with the modernism vs postmodernism opposition, and periodization in general is all wrong.

But only in a certain sense, in terms of a certain conception of periodization. Shift the ground of our conception a little, and it turns out that there's nothing wrong with the opposition modernism vs postmodernism after all, and periodization is quite all right. My text is James Joyce's Ulysses.

Ulysses, literary historians agree, is one of the founding texts of the "High Modernist" phase of literary modernism, a text in which modernist poetics is simultaneously elaborated, consolidated, and made conspicuous, available for appropriation and imi- tation.

It "relies on the Modernist code, and contributed to its definition and recognition," write Fokkema and Ibsch more recently: "With Ulysses Modernism was accepted in ultima forma" , Yet, like other founding texts of High Modernism, in particular The Waste Land see Nevo ; Fokkema and Ibsch , 89 , Ulysses has lately entered upon a strange second career as a postmod- ernist text.

For, as readers recognized almost from the begin- ning, Ulysses is double, two differentiable texts placed side by side, one of them a landmark of High Modernism, the other something else. Only lately have we learned to call this "something else" postmodernism. To date, the most fully elaborated account of the "doubleness" of Ulysses has been Karen Lawrence's In her account, Ulysses splits roughly down the middle. A single "narrative norm" what Joyce called his "initial style" prevails in the first half, through "Scylla and Charybdis"; beginning with "Wandering Rocks" and "Sirens," this normative style is abandoned for a diverse series of extravagant stylistic performances.

There are exceptions to this distribution: "Aeolus," in particular, anticipates the extravagances of the second half, while "Nausicaa" and especially "Penel- ope" regress to the narrative norm of the first half. This bisection of Ulysses has been corroborated by many other commentators e. Kenner ; MacCabe ; Basic ; Hayman , with certain variations e.

MacCabe locates the divide earlier, at the end of "Hades"; Kenner places it later, between "Wandering Rocks" and "Sirens"; etc. Nor does this perception of Ulysses as double belong only to recent revisionist or iconoclastic readings: it is already to be found in such canonical earlier commentaries as those of Edmund Wilson or S. Goldberg If there is consensus between earlier and later commentators on Ulysses about the fact of its doubleness, there is no such agreement about the relative importance or value of the two halves.

Indeed, when we compare earlier critics such as Wilson and Goldberg with more recent ones we find an almost exactly complementary distribution of emphases: where the emphasis for the earlier critics falls on the first half of the text, for more recent critics its falls on the second half. For Wilson and Goldberg, the chapters in the so-called initial style constitute the "authentic" Ulysses, and they are full of reservations and misgivings about the chapters from "Sirens" through "Ithaca.

Lawrence would no doubt have struck Wilson and Goldberg as incomprehensible, or merely perverse.! Man, and they found it in the chapters of the first half. They had less use for the second half of the text, and it was left to later critics to undertake the recuperation of the chapters from roughly "Wandering Rocks" and "Sirens" on perhaps including "Aeolus," perhaps excluding "Nausicaa" and "Penelope".

This recuperation has been undertaken in terms of a poetics closer to that of Finnegans Wake than that of A Portrait: 2 call it postmodernist poetics. So Ulysses is a text fissured and double, like a landscape made up of two adjacent but disparate geophysical terrains, brought together by the massive displacements of tectonic plates. To map Ulysses literary- historically is to describe the relation between these terrains, and between the plates on which they ride - between, in other words, the modernist poetics of its "normal" half and the postmodernist poetics of its "other" half.

This relation, I shall argue, is one of excess and parody: the poetics of the postmodernist chapters exceed the modernist poetics of the "normal" chapters, and the postmodernist chapters parody modernist poetics. They have found a repertoire of strategies that Ulysses shares with other modernist texts, both earlier and later.

Many of these characteristically modernist strategies were, if not actually innovated by Joyce, at least perfected by him, and made conspicuous in Ulysses. This is not the place to attempt to elaborate the full modernist repertoire or "code" of Ulysses; in any case, Beebe already proposed an outline of it some years ago, and Fokkema and Ibsch have recently filled in the outline in considerable detail. Here I shall restrict myself to reviewing very briefly two familiar sub- repertoires of the full modernist repertoire: strategies of mobile conscious- ness and the related strategies of parallax perspectivism, counterpoint.

Mobile consciousness "The most influential formal impulses of canonical modernism have been strategies of inwardness," according to Jameson This is certainly true, but not the whole truth, for, as Quinones argues, modernism's centripetal strategies of inwardness simultaneously function as centrifugal strategies of "openness" to the world outside and beyond consciousness. It is in the light of these complementary functions of inwardness and openness, centripetal movement and centrifugal move- ment, that we must view modernist innovations in the presentation of conSCIOusness.

Constructing post modernism: Ulysses The varieties of interior discourse perfected by Joyce - direct interior monologue both integrated in the third-person matrix and "auton- omous" , free indirect discourse see Cohn ; Basic - do not so much heighten the realism of presented consciousness though they have that effect as well as secure a finer-grained interaction between consciousness and the world outside consciousness. Mind is rendered more mobile by these strategies, quicker to seize on objects of external reality and then to abandon them for others, freer to digress along associative pathways and to project "subworlds" of its own making see Eco ; Pavel The corollary of mobility of consciousness is stability of presented world: if the presented world outside consciousness is not pre- sumed to be stable, we have no background against which to gauge the relative motion of consciousness, and our sense of its mobility is dissipated.

It follows, then, that if consciousness is the mobile partner in this inter- action - shifty, unreliable, digressive - it is the world that must be the correspondingly stable partner, really that is, fictionally , reliably "out there" - though not, of course, necessarily easy of access, precisely because the consciousness on which it registers is so mobile.

This fine-grained interaction between mobile mind and stable world is most conspicuous in the direct interior monologue which is the staple variety the "narrative norm" of the three chapters of the "Telemachia" and the first eight chapters of part two of Ulysses,4 as well as the second half of "Nausicaa" see Cohn Here the reader is shuttled between, on the one hand, sentences directly presenting what passes in the character's mind, and indirectly presenting or refracting the outside world; and, on the other hand, authorial and authoritative sentences directly projecting that world.

We engage in a constant, microscopic col- lation of the two world-versions, the authoritative one and the one con- structed by the character's consciousness, finding that they sometimes corroborate one another, sometimes diverge, in the process developing a sense of how this particular mind "filters" the world, the precise angle of its perspective, the kind and degree of distortion it introduces see, e. When the proportion of authorial sentences to "mind-sentences" decreases, as in "Proteus" or the second half of "Nausicaa," or authorial sentences disappear entirely, as in the "autonomous" monologue of "Pene- lope" see Cohn ; Spinalbelli , it is not so much the interaction between mind and world that changes as our processing of these passages.

Since we can no longer measure Molly's construction of her world against adjacent authoritative sentences, we must measure it against the fragments of world which we have reconstructed from all the chapters which precede her monologue.

Similarly with the sentences of free indirect discourse see Cohn scattered throughout the "normal" half of Ulysses and appearing in concentration in the first part of "Nausicaa" and, more problematically, in "Eumaeus" :5 here our processing of sentences is com- plicated, but the interaction of mobile mind and stable world persists.

The complication arises from the conflation of authorial world-projecting function and indirect quotation of character's consciousness in the same sentence. If we are not always able to disengage the world "out there" from the character's construction of it with the sharpness that we can in direct interior discourse passages, we nevertheless do succeed in distin- guishing a generally stable background world from foreground conscious- ness even in free indirect discourse.

These strategies of mobile consciousness have, of course, occupied a conspicuous and central place in "normal" modernist and late-modernist poetics from to the present. Parallax Interior discourse, whether direct or free indirect, already involves a form of perspectivism or parallax. A character's interior construction of the world diverges from the authorial projection of it, and the "angle" of this divergence serves to inform us about the structure of this character's consciousness.

I use accelerator input from android so my Y-Axis change on my player. It's a pretty funny glitch to watch but ruins the reality of the game. By delfault the Tranform. Translate method use local space. But there is a second optional parameter that allows you to choose the space like this :.

What is the 'space. How do I do that??? I tried this.. There is several methods for rotating an object, if you want to apply a constant rotation you should use transform. Rotate ;. Yes, Thank You. What I actually want to do is, rotate an object on the local axes. Rotate 0,,0 ;" I also want to move it forward. But for that I cant use local axes, because the axes are constantly rotating and the object won't neatly move forward on the same local axes.

Hence I want to know how to move them on the global axes. Do you know, how to move on global axes?