Domain Books

This book is a must-have, very good both in the content and in the presentation. The paper, the style, the encadernation, all the elements make it a very good acquisition.

For those of you that enjoyed the Trail of the Spanish Bit, this book is a fantastic follow up. The story only gets better as you see Heads Off struggle in his new role with a people that he is still getting to know.

Good reference for regularity of problems in polygonal domains. Along with a nice background of Sobolev spaces and elliptic problems, Grisvard constructs singular solutions for general operators in general polygonal domains.

This is one of the better "Elsie Books" that I've read in a while. With plenty of story to go 'round, the book begins with Elsie's son (Edward) and his wife (Zoe) harboring the troublesome Miss Deane. Although polite on the outside, Zoe feels their visitor has harmful intentions, even though Edward doesn't sense it. Soon, there is a blockage between the couple, and Zoe well knows that it all stemmed from the disturbing Miss Deane. To top it off, Edward is involved in a train wreck and Zoe doesn't know if she'll ever again have the chance to ask forgiveness from her injured husband.

Meanwhile, Captain Raymond's daughter, Lulu, has slipped up on letting her temper slither through and eventually ends up hurting her young, baby sister. It was bad timing for this to happen, because the captain has come in on a surprise load of money and he wants to bless his children with so many gifts, but of course, Lulu has to wait on these wonderful things.

I had great pleasure in reading this specific book in the series, although I can't quite pin-point just what it is that made this story so delightful.

Come join Elsie and her family. Their doors are always open.

The book was extemely helpful in my husband's research. He was particularly excited about the conciseness of the book. I could hear him agreeing with the concepts presented in the book. He's very pleased with the book.

I read this book when I was in fourth grade. I don't know where I got the book - it was old then (in the '60's.) The story is about a poor family who sail to America to make a better life. The parents get sick and die and the children are sent to the poor house. The pretty sister gets adopted by a rich family and the plain sister is left in the poor house and only later is taken in by a kind widow. The plain sister is the main character and she suffers from slights from her pretty sister who pretends not to know her. However in the end, the plain sister ends up being accomplished and kind and cultured while the pretty sister ends up being spoiled and pampered and despised. It is the classic Cinderella tale retold in a less magical manner, however just as appealing and pleasing to the sense of justice. I told the story to my daughter when she was young because I could not find the book. Then a few years ago I looked the book up on Amazon and found an original copy, which I treasure.

In sharp contrast to the raving, misanthopic Capitalist who gave this excellent book one star, Bellamy laid out his vision for a humanistic society... one which was natural and beneficial to humankind, rather than one which takes advantage of the poor, weak, or less talented. It is sad that Bellamy's vision for the 20th century only saw some chance of coming true with the New Deal and some of the social movements of the 1960s. Today, when crony coporate capitalism, fundamentalist religion, and evil seekers of oil, money and power rule the mindset of this once hopeful country (USA), the chance for humanism is slim indeed. If only the likes of those misanthropic capitalists who mock and distort Bellamy were to dissapear, we'd have a much healthier planet.

And by the way, what we saw in the former USSR or in China today is NOT what Bellamy had in mind; but itself a misantropic, power-based dictatorship-based government which was/is just as unhumanistic as the U.S. is now.

Arthur Schopenhauer is the only philosopher who seems to me to take Art, in all it's forms, seriously, as a form of knowledge; he also seems to understand that we are essentially irrational creatures, fundamentally driven by our desires and emotions. he thus seems to be deeply in contact with those uncomfortable truths about ourselves which we would rather not know about.this makes the reading of him something that if taken seriously, can change one's life.
what higher complement can one make of a writer? He is vigorous in his so called pessimism, so he invigorates us. He is totally honest; He detests humbug and in clarity; he thinks that Art is something which can enoble us, and i agree with him. he is infintely insightful and deflationary of human pretention, always salutary; and last, but by no means least, i find him funny!

enough from me; Try him !

Anyone who is interested in debating a topic simply has to read Schopenhauer's "The Art of Controversy" and pay particular attention to his "38 stratagems."

You'll find out about sophisms ex homonymia. And special pleading (if I do it, it's cool, if you do it, it's tacky). You'll see links in a chain of reasoning omitted. And false premises, and omitted premises. And non sequiturs (omitted chains). Suppressed majors. Negated minors. Argumentum ad ignorantiam. Question-begging (sticking your conclusion into a premise).

There is advice about false generalizations. Get your opponent to admit that your examples are true. Do not ask about the validity of the general case, but later act as if this has been admitted as well.

Then there are "false choice" arguments, where you pretend that the only alternative to your policy is some manifestly crazy "straw-man" counterplan. And there are false reductio ad absurdums and false counterexamples. There are also suggestive questions, such as asking why something is true, when it may not be true at all.

There are hidden judgments, as anyone will discover when she calls a city by its name in one language as opposed to another.

A very important stratagem is argumentum ad auditores (this ought to be illegal in a debate). Here, you simply make an argument that you and your opponent know full well is totally invalid, hoping to win over your audience. If your audience is a mob, it is called argumentum ad captandum.

You'll learn to blitz your opponent by talking fast (and maybe especially softly or loudly as well). And to extend your opponent's propositions, exaggerate them, and make them absolute.

If you think your opponent has a potentially strong but unusual counter to what you are about to propose, get her to admit the opposite of it before you start your main argument (advice from Aristotle). Try to ask it so that a "no" answer is the one you want. Never tell an opponent that you have won an argument. You do not want to hear her reply. Address victory claims only to the audience.

I've used plenty of Latin here. That's a good idea in general; it makes you look wise even though you are just another plebeian. Don't say "No way!" Say "Non possumus."

You'll learn that the line "That is all very good in theory, but it would never work in practice" is in fact a famous sophism.

And there is much more in this terrific essay. Perhaps the most interesting advice is this. If an opponent comes up with some captious sophistry, try to dispose of her ex concessis rather than ad rem. That is, come up with something just as silly as her nonsense (as long as it is something she can't or won't refute). After all, you are seeking victory, not truth! Schopenhauer assures us that this works better.

I'd be more than a little reluctant to follow this last bit of advice, but I truly enjoyed The Art of Controversy.

A neglected comic masterpiece that deserves to be rediscovered, "Esther" features an inspired premise as its plot: a young, free-thinking socialite falls desperately in love with an Episcopal minister. The result is a free-for-all clash of intellects, a confrontation between faith and reason, and the inevitable battle of the sexes.

The marvels of Adams's novel are his remarkably nuanced and fully realized characters. Esther, the free-thinker, wants to share her lover's faith and "is trying to get it by reason"--but doesn't initially understand that a person "can never reason yourself into it." Mr. Hazard, the minister, is confident that he will "succeed in drawing her into the fold, because his lifelong faith, that all human energies belonged to the church, was on trial, and, if it broke down in a test so supreme as that of marriage, the blow would go far to prostrate him forever." Esther's principles of independence and self-education collide with Hazard's desire to steer her into submission as his wife and fellow believer.

But my favorite character is relegated to a supporting role: Catherine, a recent transplant from the frontiers of Colorado, befriends Esther and dazzles New York society with her innocence, naivete, and sincerity. It's never really quite clear, however, whether her simplicity is the genuine article or just a show mocking the pretensions of her admirers. As one of the intellectuals who lightheartedly teases her wonders, there was "a little doubt whether she was making fun of him or he of her, and she never left him in perfect security on this point."

The novel sparkles with banter and quarrels, jokes and ripostes, but any attempt to reproduce the humor in a short review would fall flat: Adams's witticisms are dependent upon context and character. Still, I caught myself laughing out loud often at the book's cleverness and hilarity.