Literatura académica sobre el tema "Vindicte organisée"

In this research project, students were asked to compare their experiences of two types of exams in an undergraduate economics course with closed-book exams. The first type of exam had a timed group discussion session followed by individual work while the second type had a conventional open-book format. We find that a vast majority of students prefer our new assessment methods, but the group discussion session received mixed reviews. Post-exam feedback on exam preparation methods vindicates our hypothesis that closed-book exams may not encourage deeper learning and are not always an effective means of assessing students’ knowledge and skills. Group discussions are valued by students to brainstorm ideas, clarify questions, and formulate arguments. However, allowing discussion just before a written exam is disruptive to students who want a serene atmosphere to gather and organise their thoughts.

Omnibus quidem notum est Concilium Vaticanum II impulisse (multoties etiam instituisse) motum in Toto mutationum organorum in Ecclesia. Copiosa illa postconciliarls legum editio signum est manifestum pro dictis. Eiusmodi factum organizativum perpendi potest e diversis prospectibus. Nostra interest perpendere e solo prospectu organizativo, scilicet quod attinet ad technican (artem) definitam quae maiorem efficaciam praebet utilitati finium pastoralium. Ideo fit necessarium illam cognoscere technicam, i. e., illa iuridica principia quodlibet motum organizativum inspirantia. Hoc studium inseritur isti demum contextui. Cum elucet quonam consistunt, ut technice fertur, illa principia, tum quid eorundem applicatio afterat organizationi ecclesiasticae exponit. Agitur suggerentia criteriorum fundamentalium, generalium principiorum ac organizativae expostulationes quas sibi vindicat vel exigit, tempore hodierno, gravis conatus efficacem organizationem ecclesiasticam instituendi. In specie studet principiis luridicis, ut aiunt, deseentralibationis, desconcentrationis organicae functionum, hierarchiae, coordinationis ac consultationis. Res his enuntiationibus inclusae sunt vere implicatae cum ad cardines eccleslasticae organizationis referantur. Summas quaestiones adet pro mutatione structurarum potestatis, iurldlca eius exercitationis normativa, ecclesiastica gubernatione, necessaria unitate et coordinatione, etc, Quaestiones quidem actualissimae quipus primas deftert attentio, praesentlbus rerum adiunctis, et doctrinae et lpsae ecclesiastlcae auctoritatls

Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to understand how and why environmentally conscious consumers rationalise their non-green purchase behaviour. Design/methodology/approach – Seven focus groups were conducted. A total of 51 people, aged 19-70 years, participated in the study. Theoretical thematic analysis was used to organise the data as various themes emerged. Findings – Through application of neutralisation theory, this study identified additional barriers to green consumption. Two new neutralisation techniques emerged, namely protecting (maintaining) one’s sense of self and consumer attachment to the brand. These techniques recognise the impact consumer culture has had on consumers. Research limitations/implications – The study took place in an urban centre hence the views of the participants may be different from those who live in rural centres; low-income consumers were under-represented; and more male participants would have been desirable. Social implications – Despite its limitations, this study reveals that consumers will rationalise their decisions in order to protect their self-esteem and self-identity. Until green becomes a social norm, consumers will continue to place individual goals over collective goals. Understanding this rationalisation process is important if marketers and policy makers want to encourage behavioural change. Originality/value – This study makes a valuable contribution to the understanding of the green attitude-behaviour gap. It provides fresh insights into how environmentally conscious consumers vindicate their non-green consumption behaviours and how marketers and policy makers can overcome these challenges. It also identifies two new neutralisation techniques and extends the theory to a consumer culture context.

Often drawing on a misogynistic psychoanalytical tradition that perpetuates gender stereotypes, guilt has generally been considered a “masculinised” affect, while shame has often been “feminised,” apparently causing men and women to write shame differently. Scholars have often concluded that while women tend to write themselves out of shame, men have frequently written shame in abstract philosophical terms, displaced it onto female bodies or tried to coin glory from it. These alleged differences between men’s and women’s writing in/about shame have been taken as an indicator that shame organises women’s personal sense of self but is never the baseline condition of being a man. However, this article proposes that Peter Ho Davies’s A Lie Someone Told You about Yourself (2021), a narrative about the aftermath of an abortion, can be read as an exploration of the shame of being a man in contemporary postfeminist society. The text investigates the legitimacy of the shame experienced by privileged subjects and demonstrates that the pro-feminist stance of its author/protagonist goes beyond mere imposture. In his exploration of male shamefulness, Davies’s writing aligns itself with the criticised female (or feminised) tradition of “oversharing” and vindicates the feminist adage that “the personal is political.”

Fig 1: Image from a secret Rangoon fashion shoot. Photograph: Myanmar Photo Archive / Lukas Birk. Introduction NOTE: Rangoon, Burma has been known as Yangon, Myanmar, since 2006. I use Rangoon and Burma for the period prior to 2006 and Yangon and Myanmar for the period thereafter. In addition, I have removed the name of any activist currently in Myanmar due to the recent policy of executing political prisoners. On 1 February 2021, Myanmar was again plunged into political turmoil when the military illegally overthrew the country’s democratically elected government. This is the third time Myanmar, formally known as Burma, has been subject to a coup d’état; violent seizures of power took place in 1962 and in 1988-90. While those two earlier military governments met with opposition spearheaded by students and student organisations, in 2021 the military faced organised resistance through a mass Civil Disobedience Movement (CDM) initiated by government healthcare workers who refused to come to work. They were joined by private sector “strikes” and, perhaps most visible of all to western viewers, mass street demonstrations “led” by “Gen Z” activists—young people who had come of age during Myanmar’s brief decade of democracy. There is little doubt that the success of the CDM and associated protests is due to the widespread coverage and reach of social media as well as the creative communications skills of the country’s first “generation of digital natives”, who are sufficiently familiar and comfortable with social platforms to “participate and shape their identities in communication and dialogue with global digital media content” (Jordt et al. 12 ). The leveraging of global culture, including the use of English in protest signs, was notable in garnering international media coverage and so keeping Myanmar’s political plight front-of-mind with governments around the world. Yet this is not the whole story behind the effectiveness of these campaigns. As Lisa Brooten argues, contemporary networks are built on “decades of behind-the-scenes activism to build a multi-ethnic civil society” (East Asia Forum). The leading democracy activist, Min Ko Naing, aligned “veteran activists from previous generations with novice Gen Z activists”, declaring “this revolution represents a combination of Generations X, Y and Z in fighting against the military dictatorship’” (Jordt et al. 18). Similarly, the creative strategies used by 2021’s digital campaigners also build on protests by earlier generations of young, creative people. This paper looks at two creative protest across the generations. The first is “secret” fashion photography of the late 1970s collected in Lukas Birk’s Yangon Fashion 1979 – Fashion=Resistance. The second is the contemporary #100projectors campaign, a “projection project for Myanmar democracy movement against the military dictatorship” (in the interest of full disclosure, I took part in the #100projectors project). Drawing from the contemporary advertising principle of “segmentation”, the communications practice where potential consumers are divided into “subgroups … based on specific characteristics and needs” (WARC 1), as well as contemporary thinking on the “aesthetics” of “cosmopolitanism”, (Papastergiadis, Featherstone, and Christensen), I argue that contemporary creative strategies can be traced back to the creative tactics of resistance employed by earlier generations of protesters and their re-imagining of “national space and its politics” (Christensen 556) in the interstices of cosmopolitan Rangoon, Burma, and Yangon, Myanmar. #100projectors Myanmar experienced two distinct periods of military rule, the Socialist era between 1962 and 1988 under General Ne Win and the era under the State Law and Order Restoration Council – State Peace and Development Council between 1988 and 2011. These were followed by a semi-civilian era from 2011 to 2021 (Carlson 117). The coup in 2021 marks a return to extreme forms of control, censorship, and surveillance. Ne Win’s era of military rule saw a push for Burmanisation enforced through “significant cultural restrictions”, ostensibly to protect national culture and unity, but more likely to “limit opportunities for internal dissent” (Carlson 117). Cultural restrictions applied to art, literature, film, television, as well as dress. Despite these prohibitions, in the 1970s Rangoon's young people smuggled in illegal western fashion magazines, such as Cosmopolitan and Vogue, and commissioned local tailors to make up the clothes they saw there. Bell-bottoms, mini-skirts, western-style suits were worn in “secret” fashion shoots, with the models posing for portraits at Rangoon photographic studios such as the Sino-Burmese owned Har Si Yone in Chinatown. Some of the wealthier fashionistas even came for weekly shoots. Demand was so high, a second branch devoted to these photographic sessions was opened with its own stock of costumes and accessories. Copies of these head to toe fashion portraits, printed on 12 x 4 cm paper, were shared with friends and family; keeping portrait albums was a popular practice in Burma and had been since the 1920s and 30s (Birk, Burmese Photographers 113). The photos that survive this era are collected in Lukas Birk’s Yangon Fashion 1979 – Fashion=Resistance. #100projectors was launched in February 2021 by a group of young visual and video artists with the aim of resisting the coup and demanding the return of democracy. Initially a small group of projectionists or “projector fighters”, as the title suggests they plan to amplify their voices by growing their national and international network to 100. #100projectors is one of many campaigns, movements, and fundraisers devised by artists and creatives to protest the coup and advocate for revolution in Myanmar. Other notable examples, all run by Gen Z activists, include the Easter Egg, Watermelon, Flash, and Marching Shoes strikes. The Marching Shoe Strike, which featured images of flowers in shoes, representing those who had died in protests, achieved a reach of 65.2 million in country with 1.4 million interactions across digital channels (VERO, 64) and all of these campaigns were covered by the international press, including The Guardian, Reuters, The Straits Times, and VOA East Asia Pacific Session, as well as arts magazines around the world (for example Hyperallergic, published in Brooklyn). #100projectors material has been projected in Finland, Scotland, and Australia. The campaign was written about in various art magazines and their Video #7 was screened at the Bangkok Art and Culture Centre in February 2022 as part of Defiant Art: A Year of Resistance to the Myanmar Coup. At first glance, these two examples seem distant in both their aims and achievements. Fashion photos, taken in secret and shared privately, could be more accurately described as a grassroots social practice rather than a political movement. While Birk describes the act of taking these images as “a rebellion” and “an escape” in a political climate when “a pair of flowers and a pair of sunglasses might just start a revolution”, the fashionistas’ photographs seem “ephemeral” at best, or what Mina Roces describes as the subtlest form of resistance or ‘weapons of the weak’ (Scott in Roces 7). By contrast, #100projectors has all the hallmarks of a polished communications campaign. They have a logo and slogans: “We fight for light” and “The revolution must win”. There is a media plan, which includes the use of digital channels, encrypted messaging, live broadcasts, as well as in-situ projections. Finally, there is a carefully “targeted” audience of potential projectionists. It is this process of defining a target audience, based on segmentation, that is particularly astute and sophisticated. Traditionally, segmentation defined audiences based on demographics, geodemographics, and self-identification. However, in the online era segments are more likely to be based on behaviour and activities revealed in search data as well as shares, depending on preferences for privacy and permission. Put another way, as a digital subject, “you are what you choose to share” (WARC 1). The audience for #100projectors includes artists and creative people around the world who choose to share political video art. They are connected through digital platforms including Facebook as well as encrypted messaging. Yet this contemporary description of digital subjectivity, “you are what you choose to share”, also neatly describes the Yangon fashionistas and the ways in which they resist the political status quo. Photographic portraits have always been popular in Burma and so this collection does not look especially radical. Initially, the portraits seem to speak only about status, taste, and modernity. Several subjects within the collection are shown in national or ethnic dress, in keeping with the governments edict that Burma consisted of 135 ethnicities and 8 official races. In addition, there is a portrait of a soldier in full uniform. But the majority of the images are of men and women in “modern” western gear typical of the 1970s. With their wide smiles and careful poses, these men and women look like they’re performing sophisticated worldliness as well as showing off their wealth. They are cosmopolitan adepts taking part in international culture. Status is implicit in the accessories, from sunglasses to jewellery. One portrait is shot at mid-range so that it clearly features a landline phone. In 1970s Burma, this was an object out of reach for most. Landlines were both prohibitively expensive and reserved for the true elites. To make a phone call, most people had to line up at special market stalls. To be photographed with a phone, in western clothes (to be photographed at all), seems more about aspiration than anarchy. In the context of Ne Win’s Burma, however, the portraits clearly capture a form of political agency. Burma had strict edicts for dress and comportment: kissing in public was banned and Burmese citizens were obliged to wear Burmese dress, with western styles considered degenerate. Long hair, despite being what Burmese men traditionally wore prior to colonisation, was also deemed too western and consequently “outlawed” (Edwards 133). Dress was not only proscribed but hierarchised and heavily gendered; only military men had “the right to wear trousers” (Edwards 133). Public disrespect of the all-powerful, paranoid, and vindictive military (known as “sit tat” for military or army versus “Tatmadaw” for the good Myanmar army) was dangerous bordering on the suicidal. Consequently, wearing shoulder-length hair, wide bell bottoms, western-style suits, and “risqué” mini-skirts could all be considered acts of at least daring and definitely defiance. Not only are these photographs a challenge to gender constructions in a country ruled by a hyper-masculine army, but these images also question the nature of what it meant to be Burmese at a time when Burmeseness itself was rigidly codified. Recording such acts on film and then sharing the images entailed further risk. Thus, these models are, as Mina Roces puts it, “express[ing] their agency through sartorial change” (Roces 5). Fig. 2: Image from a secret Rangoon fashion shoot – illicit dress and hair. Photograph: Myanmar Photo Archive / Lukas Birk. Fig. 3: Image from a secret Rangoon fashion shoot. Photograph: Myanmar Photo Archive / Lukas Birk. Roces also notes the “challenge” of making protest visible in spaces “severely limited” under authoritarian regimes (Roces 10). Burma under the Socialist government was a particularly difficult place in which to mount any form of resistance. Consequences included imprisonment or even execution, as in the case of the student leader Tin Maung Oo. Ma Thida, a writer and human rights advocate herself jailed for her work, explains the use of creative tools such as metaphor in a famous story about a crab by the writer and journalist Hanthawaddy U Win Tin: The crab, being hard-shelled, was well protected and could not be harmed. However, the mosquito, despite being a far smaller animal, could bite the eyes of the crab, leading to the crab’s eventual death. ... Readers drew the conclusion that the socialist government of Ne Win was the crab that could be destabilized if a weakness could be found. (Thida 317) If the metaphor of a crab defeated by a mosquito held political meaning, then being photographed in prohibited fashions was a more overt way of making defiance and resistant “visible”. While that visibility seems ephemeral, the fashionistas also found a way not only to be seen by the camera in their rebellious clothing, but also by a “public” or audience of those with whom they shared their images. The act of exchanging portraits, what Birk describes as “old-school Instagram”, anticipates not only the shared selfie, but also the basis of successful contemporary social campaigns, which relied in part on networks sharing posts to amplify their message (Birk, Yangon Fashion 17). What the fashionistas also demonstrate is that an act of rebellion can also be a means of testing the limits of conformity, of the need for beauty, of the human desire to look beautiful. Acts of rebellion are also acts of celebration and so, solidarity. Fig. 4: Image from a secret Rangoon fashion shoot – illicit dress length. Photograph: Myanmar Photo Archive / Lukas Birk. Fig. 5: Image from a secret Rangoon fashion shoot – illicit trousers. Photograph: Myanmar Photo Archive / Lukas Birk. As the art critic and cultural theorist Nikos Papastergiadis writes, “the cosmopolitan imagination in contemporary art could be defined as an aesthetic of openness that engenders a global sense of inter-connectedness” (207). Inter-connectedness and its possibilities and limits shape the aesthetic imaginary of both the secret fashion shoots of 1970s Rangoon and the artists and videographers of 2021. In the videos of the #100projectors project and the fashion portraits of stylish Rangoonites, interconnection comes as a form of aesthetic blending, a conversation that transcends the border. The sitter posing in illicit western clothes in a photo studio in the heart of Rangoon, then Burma’s capital and seat of power, cannot help but point out that borders are permeable, and that national identity is temporally-based, transitory, and full of slippages. In this spot, 40-odd years earlier, Burmese nationalists used dress as a means of publicly supporting the nationalist cause (Edwards, Roces). Like the portraits, the #100projector videos blend global and local perspectives on Myanmar. Combining paintings, drawings, graphics, performance art recordings, as well as photography, the work shares the ‘instagrammable’ quality of the Easter Egg, Watermelon, and Marching Shoes strikes with their bright colours and focus on people—or the conspicuous lack of people and the example of the Silent Strike. Graphics are in Burmese as well as English. Video #6 was linked to International Women’s Day. Other graphics reference American artists such as Shepherd Fairey and his Hope poster, which was adapted to feature Aung San Suu Kyi’s face during then-President Obama’s visit in 2012. The videos also include direct messages related to political entities such as Video #3, which voiced support for the Committee Representing Pyidaungsu Hlutaw (CRPH), a group of 15 elected MPs who represented the ideals of Gen Z youth (Jordt et al., viii). This would not necessarily be understood by an international viewer. Also of note is the prevalence of the colour red, associated with Aung San Suu Kyi’s NLD. Red is one of the three “political” colours formerly banned from paintings under SLORC. The other two were white, associated with the flowers Aung Sang Suu Kyi wore in her hair, and black, symbolic of negative feelings towards the regime (Carlson, 145). The Burmese master Aung Myint chose to paint exclusively in the banned colours as an ongoing act of defiance, and these videos reflect that history. The videos and portraits may propose that culturally, the world is interconnected. But implicit in this position is also the failure of “interconnectedness”. The question that arises with every viewing of a video or Instagram post or Facebook plea or groovy portrait is: what can these protesters, despite the risks they are prepared to take, realistically expect from the rest of the world in terms of help to remove the unwanted military government? Interconnected or not, political misfortune is the most effective form of national border. Perhaps the most powerful imaginative association with both the #100projectors video projections and fashionistas portraits is the promise of transformation, in particular the transformations possible in a city like Rangoon / Yangon. In his discussion of the cosmopolitan space of the city, Christensen notes that although “digital transformations touch vast swathes of political, economic and everyday life”, it is the city that retains supreme significance as a space not easily reducible to an entity beneath the national, regional, or global (556). The city is dynamic, “governed by the structural forces of politics and economy as well as moralities and solidarities of both conservative and liberal sorts”, where “othered voices and imaginaries find presence” in a mix that leads to “contestations” (556). Both the fashionistas and the video artists of the #100projectors use their creative work to contest the ‘national’ space from the interstices of the city. In the studio these transformations of the bodies of Burmese subjects into international “citizens of the world” contest Ne Win’s Burma and reimagine the idea of nation. They take place in the Chinatown, a relic of the old, colonial Rangoon, a plural city and one of the world’s largest migrant ports, where "mobility, foreignness and cross-cultural hybridity" were essential to its make-up (Aung Thin 778). In their instructions on how to project their ideas as a form of public art to gain audience, the #100projectors artists suggest projectors get “full on creative with other ways: projecting on people, outdoor cinema, gallery projection” (#100projectors). It is this idea projection as an overlay, a doubling of the everyday that evokes the possibility of transformation. The #100projector videos screen on Rangoon bridges, reconfiguring the city, albeit temporarily. Meanwhile, Rangoon is doubled onto other cities, towns, villages, communities, projected onto screens but also walls, fences, the sides of buildings in Finland, Scotland, Australia, and elsewhere. Conclusion In this article I have compared the recent #100projectors creative campaign of resistance against the 2021 coup d’état in Myanmar with the “fashionistas” of 1970 and their “secret” photo shoots. While the #100projectors is a contemporary digital campaign, some of the creative tactics employed, such as dissemination and identifying audiences, can be traced back to the practices of Rangoon’s fashionistas of the 1970s. ­­Creative resistance begins with an act of imagination. The creative strategies of resistance examined here share certain imaginative qualities of connection, a privileging of the ‘cosmopolitan’ and ‘interconnectedness’ as well as the transformativity of actual space, with the streets of Rangoon, itself a cosmopolitan city. References @100projectors Instagram account. <https://www.instagram.com/100projectors/>. @Artphy_1 Instagram account. <https://www.instagram.com/artphy_1/>. Aung Thin, Michelle. “Sensations of Rootedness’ in Cosmopolitan Rangoon or How the Politics of Authenticity Shaped Colonial Imaginings of Home.” Journal of Intercultural Studies 41.6 (2020): 778-792. Birk, Lukas. Yangon Fashion 1979 – Fashion=Resistance. France: Fraglich Publishing, 2020. ———. Burmese Photographers. Myanmar: Goethe-Institut Myanmar, 2018. Brooten, Lisa. “Power Grab in a Pandemic: Media, Lawfare and Policy in Myanmar.” Journal of Digital Media & Policy 13.1 (2022): 9-24. ———. “Myanmar’s Civil Disobedience Movement Is Built on Decades of Struggle.” East Asia Forum, 29 Mar. 2021. 29 July 2022 <https://www.eastasiaforum.org/2021/03/29/myanmars-civil-disobedience-movement-is-built-on-decades-of-struggle/>. Carlson, Melissa. “Painting as Cipher: Censorship of the Visual Arts in Post-1988 Myanmar.” Sojourner: Journal of Social Issues in Southeast Asia 31.1 (2016): 116-72. Christensen, Miyase. “Postnormative Cosmopolitanism: Voice, Space and Politics.” The International Communication Gazette 79.6–7 (2017): 555–563. Edwards, Penny. “Dressed in a Little Brief Authority: Clothing the Body Politic in Burma.” In Mina Roces & Louise Edwards (eds), The Politics of Dress in Asia and the Americas. Brighton: Sussex Academic Press, 121–138. France24. “‘Longyi Revolution’: Why Myanmar Protesters Are Using Women’s Clothes as Protection.” 10 Mar. 2021. <https://youtu.be/ebh1A0xOkDw>. Ferguson, Jane. “Who’s Counting? Ethnicity, Belonging, and the National Census in Burma/Myanmar.” Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde 171 (2015): 1–28. Htun Khaing. “Salai Tin Maung Oo, Defiant at the End.” Frontier, 24 July 2017. 1 Aug. 2022 <https://www.frontiermyanmar.net/en/salai-tin-maung-oo-defiant-to-the-end>. Htun, Pwin, and Paula Bock. “Op-Ed: How Women Are Defying Myanmar’s Junta with Sarongs and Cellphones.” Los Angeles Times, 16 Mar. 2021. <https://www.latimes.com/opinion/story/2021-03-16/myanmar-military-women-longyi-protests>. Jordt, Ingrid, Tharaphi Than, and Sue Ye Lin. How Generation Z Galvanized a Revolutionary Movement against Myanmar’s 2021 Military Coup. Singapore: Trends in Southeast Asia ISEAS – Yusof Ishak Institute, 2021. Ma Thida. “A ‘Fierce’ Fear: Literature and Loathing after the Junta.” In Myanmar Media in Transition: Legacies, Challenges and Change. Eds. Lisa Brooten, Jane Madlyn McElhone, and Gayathry Venkiteswaran. Singapore: ISEAS - Yusof Ishak Institute, 2019. 315-323. Myanmar Poster Campaign (@myanmarpostercampaign). “Silent Strike on Feb 1, 2022. We do not forget Feb 1, 2021. We do not forget about the coup. And we do not forgive.” Instagram. <https://www.instagram.com/p/CZJ5gg6vxZw/>. Papastergiadias, Nikos. “Aesthetic Cosmopolitanism.” In Routledge International Handbook of Cosmopolitanism Studies. Ed. Gerard Delanty. London: Routledge, 2018. 198-210. Roces, Mina. “Dress as Symbolic Resistance in Asia.” International Quarterly for Asian Studies 53.1 (2022): 5-14. Smith, Emiline. “In Myanmar, Protests Harness Creativity and Humor.” Hyperallergic, 12 Apr. 2021. 29 July 2022 <https://hyperallergic.com/637088/myanmar-protests-harness-creativity-and-humor/>. Thin Zar (@Thinzar_313). “Easter Egg Strike.” Instagram. <https://www.instagram.com/p/CNPfvtAMSom/>. VERO. “Myanmar Communication Landscape”. 10 Feb. 2021. <https://vero-asean.com/a-briefing-about-the-current-situation-in-myanmar-for-our-clients-partners-and-friends/>. World Advertising Research Centre (WARC). “What We Know about Segmentation.” WARC Best Practice, May 2021. <https://www-warc-com.ezproxy.lib.rmit.edu.au/content/article/bestprac/what-we-know-about-segmentation/110142>.

En dépit des atteintes graves qu’il porte à l’ordre social, la vindicte populaire n’a jamais fait l’objet d’une étude juridique approfondie pour recevoir la réponse pénale adéquate. En effet, si le phénomène mobilise les chercheurs au-delà des sciences juridiques, il n’y a pas d’études juridiques spécifiques sur la question. Pourtant, le phénomène vindicatif persiste, évoluant d’ailleurs de la forme physique vers la forme numérique, avec pour conséquence une augmentation considérable du nombre de victimes, signe d’une délinquance de plus en plus importante. Toutefois, en l’état du droit positif, les contours, les manifestations, les modes d’expression et les motivations de cette forme de délinquance sont jusque-là indéterminées. Or, les pouvoirs publics ne peuvent combattre efficacement un phénomène criminel dont ils n’ont pas la maitrise. Notre recherche s’est donc évertuée à étudier les rapports que le droit pénal entretient avec la délinquance vindicative. Elle propose un diagnostic puis des pistes de réflexion en vue d’un traitement pénal de la vindicte populaire. Il a été constaté que l’épreuve entre la vindicte populaire et le droit pénal est sulfureuse et rude, très riche mais très intrigante : c’est une liaison dangereuse. Plus concrètement la vindicte populaire s’exprime face au droit pénal et le droit pénal la réprime à son tour. Dans son expression, il ressort de notre étude, qu’à l’instar de la covid 19, le virus de la vindicte dont souffre le corps social renferme de multiples variants, ce qui rend sa compréhension et son appréhension difficile. Les modes d’expression de la vindicte populaire ont été donc identifiés, une définition proposée et des moyens de prévention identifiés. Dans son élan de répression, face au phénomène vindicatif, le droit pénal peine à trouver ses repères. Il a essayé non sans difficulté d’endiguer le phénomène en procédant autant par adaptation que par innovation. Mais les outils utilisés en l’état son peu efficaces. C’est donc un droit pénal timide qui subit les assauts d’une vindicte dynamique, protéiforme et mutante. Il a été suggéré de repenser la réponse pénale en érigeant la vindicte populaire en incrimination spéciale avec un régime spéciale de responsabilité
In spite of the serious attacks on the social order, mob justice has never been the subject of an in-depth legal study in order to receive the appropriate penal response. Indeed, although the phenomenon mobilizes researchers beyond the legal sciences, there are no specific legal studies on the issue. However, the vindictive phenomenon persists, evolving moreover from the physical form to the digital form, with as a consequence a considerable increase in the number of victims, a sign of a more and more important delinquency. However, as far as positive law is concerned, the contours, manifestations, modes of expression and motivations of this form of delinquency are still undetermined. However, the public authorities cannot effectively combat a criminal phenomenon that they do not control. Our research has therefore endeavored to study the relationship that criminal law has with vindictive delinquency. It proposes a diagnosis and then lines of thought for a penal treatment of popular vindictiveness. It has been noted that the test between popular vindictiveness and criminal law is sulphurous and rough, very rich but very intriguing: it is a dangerous connection. More concretely, popular vindictiveness expresses itself in the face of criminal law and criminal law represses it in its turn. In its expression, it emerges from our study that, like covid 19, the virus of vindictiveness from which the social body suffers contains multiple variants, which makes its understanding and apprehension difficult. The modes of expression of popular vindictiveness have therefore been identified, a definition proposed and means of prevention identified. In its drive to repress the phenomenon of vindictiveness, criminal law is struggling to find its bearings. It has tried, not without difficulty, to curb the phenomenon by adapting as much as by innovating. But the tools used at present are not very effective. It is thus a timid criminal law that is undergoing the assaults of a dynamic, protean and mutant vindictiveness. It has been suggested to rethink the penal response by making mob justice a special incrimination with a special regime of responsibility

Abstract This chapter outlines the Dignitarian Approach—the view that we have reason to organize social life in such a way that we respond appropriately to the valuable features of individual human beings that give rise to their dignity. The essential aspects of this approach are presented. They include the correlative ideal of Solidaristic Empowerment and the conceptual network of dignity comprising the notions of status-dignity, condition-dignity, dignitarian norms, the basis of dignity, the circumstances of dignity, and dignitarian virtue. The fruitfulness of the Dignitarian Approach for the justification of requirements of social justice is clarified, showing that it helps us vindicate a commitment to universalism and to justify moral humanist rights, foreground the importance of combining self-determination and mutual aid, illuminate the stance of people struggling against social injustice, and explore the arc of humanist justice. The chapter then explains and motivates this book’s specific focus on labour rights, showing how the arc going from basic to maximal labour rights can be encompassed, and how the critique of injustices in which those rights are violated can be articulated.

Abstract The last universal common ancestor of cellular life (LUCA) and the last eukaryote common ancestor (LECA) were unique events that committed previously independent replicators to joint vertical transmission by default although horizontal transmission remained possible. Here I develop an explicitly organismal narrative emphasizing that the organizational complexity of simple prokaryote cells and complex eukaryote cells was based on cell closure and division of labor among cellular elements. My arguments reconcile Huxley’s (1912) principle that nothing alive can be functionally homogeneous with Williams’ dictum that genetic homogeneity is a necessary condition for maintaining organizational complexity. Echoing arguments brought forward intermittently since the late 1800s, I question the validity of the cell as machine metaphor because that reductionist approach addresses only proximate aspects of functional causation and cannot explain the self-organized, and self-referential aspects of unicellular maintenance and reproduction as they are shaped by natural selection. I review the substantial insights obtained from studies of societies of bacterial and protist cells. They vindicated inclusive fitness theory and are now being extended to address viral social behavior, but they have no direct relevance for understanding LUCA and LECA as major evolutionary transitions in organizational complexity. Finally, I evaluate the scattered evidence for germline–soma differentiation within unicellular organisms, which increasingly confirm that these domains also have forms of reproductive division of labor and differential rates of aging.

"After the Armistice of Mudros, the first occupations in Anatolian lands took place in the Hatay region. Firstly, Iskenderun (Alexandretta) was occupied by the British on 9 November 1918. On 27 November 1918, the French, who landed troops in the region after the British, established the Sanjak of Alexandretta, which included the towns of Iskenderun, Belen, Antakya, and Harim, and appointed a French military governor. The vindictive and ruthless behaviour of the Armenians, who acted in partnership with the French, led to the early start of armed resistance in the Hatay region. The resistance in Hatay took place mainly in the Gâvur Mountains in the north of the region and in the Amik Valley-Kurd Mountain and Antakya- Al-Qusayr regions in the south. While in the İskenderun-Dörtyol region in the north of Hatay, figures from the Kuvâ-yı Milliye such as Kara Hasan and Bey Hakkı came to the fore, in the south, names such as Tayfur Mürsel, Asım Bey and Ahmet Türkmen played an important role. The Hatay resistance became more organised as a result of the contact established with the National Struggle movement led by Mustafa Kemal Pasha, and Hatay was included in the Southern Front of the National Struggle. While the clashes continued in the region, the Treaty of Ankara (the Franklin-Bouillon Agreement) was signed between Türkiye and France on 20 October 1921. Thus, the state of war between the two States ended and the Türkiye-Syria border was drawn. With this treaty, while Dörtyol (including Payas) and Hassa remained within the borders of Türkiye, it was decided to establish a special form of administration for the Iskenderun region and to grant some privileges to the Turks here. Thus, it was accepted, albeit reluctantly, that the Antakya-Iskenderun region, which was included in the borders of Mîsâk-ı Millî (the National Pact), would remain in Syria in order to end the fighting on the Southern Front. This situation was also accepted in the Treaty of Lausanne, as it was expected that the appropriate time and conditions would emerge. In this study, the occupation and resistance movements in the Hatay region after the Armistice of Mudros will be discussed."

The way of thinking of traffic observing for discovery of system assaults is predicated on a “gained information” viewpoint: current methods recognize either the notable assaults which they’re customized to alarm on, or those strange occasions that veer off from a known typical activity profile. These philosophies depend on an expert structure which gives the ideal data, either with respect to “marks” of the striking attacks or as anomaly free traffic datasets, adequately rich to make delegate profiles for commonplace movement traffic. The theory talks about the limitations of current information-based system to recognize organize assaults in an inexorably unpredictable and advancing Web, Described by ever-rising applications and an ever-expanding number of most recent system assaults. In an oppositely inverse viewpoint, we place the weight on the occasion of solo recognition strategies, fit for distinguishing obscure system assaults during a unique situation with none past information, neither on the attributes of the assault nor on the gauge traffic conduct. In view of the perception that an outsized portion of system assaults are contained during a little division of traffic flows, the proposition exhibits an approach to join basic bunching strategies to precisely distinguish and portray malignant flows. to bring up the practicality of such an information autonomous methodology, a solid multi-bunching-based location technique is created and assess its capacity to recognize and portray arrange assaults with none past information, utilizing bundle follows from two genuine operational systems. The methodology is acclimated identify and describe obscure vindictive flows, and spotlights on the identification and portrayal of ordinary and notable assaults, which encourages the translation of results. When contrasted with the predominant DDoS traceback techniques, the proposed system has assortment of favorable circumstances—it is memory no concentrated, proficiently adaptable, vigorous against parcel contamination, and free of assault traffic designs. The consequences of inside and out test and reenactment considers are introduced to exhibit the adequacy and effectiveness of the proposed strategy. It’s an uncommon test to traceback the wellspring of Circulated Disavowal of-Administration (DDoS) assaults inside the Web. In DDoS assaults, aggressors create a lot of solicitations to casualties through undermined PCs (zombies), with the point of keeping ordinary help or debasing from getting the norm of administrations. Because of this fundamental change, the proposed system conquers the acquired downsides of parcel stamping strategies, similar to weakness to bundle contaminations. The execution of the proposed strategy welcomes no changes on current steering programming. Moreover, this work builds up a hypothetical structure for assessing the insurance of IDS against mimicry assaults. It shows an approach to break the wellbeing of 1 distributed IDS with these strategies, and it tentatively affirms the capacity of various assaults by giving a worked model. The Project is intended by using Java 1.6 as face and MS SQL Server 2000 as backside. The IDE used is Net Beans 6.8.