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The University of Akron Press
The Story of the First Interpreters of the Fourteenth Amendment
Infinite Hope and Finite Disappointment details the hopes and promises of the 14th Amendment in the historical, legal and sociological context within which it was framed. Part of the Reconstruction Amendments collectively known as "The Second Founding," the 14th Amendment fundamentally altered the 1787 Constitution to protect individual right and altered the balance of power between the national government and the states. The work also shows how initial Supreme Court interpretations of the Amendment's reach hindered its applicability. Finally, the contributors investigate the current impact of the 14th Amendment. The book is divided into three parts: "Infinite Hope: The Framers as First Interpreters;" "Finite Disappointment: The Supreme Court as First Interpreter;" and "Never Losing Infinite Hope: The People as First Interpreters ."
Controlling Cultural Eutrophication 1960s-1990s
During the 1960s, inland bodies of water in North America and Europe experienced a dangerous transformation. Nutrients were dumped into the lakes, causing chain reactions which severely impacted on lake environments. The excessive increase into inland waters through human activity, known as cultural eutrofication, emerged as a dominant problem. Massive algae blooms drifted in overnourished lakes, depleting oxygen, damaging fish stocks, and transforming the water's ecosystem. In Lake Erie Rehabilitated, historian William McGucken presents a comprehensive account of the most notorious international incident of cultural eutrophication---Lake Erie. With the assistance of the International Joint Commission, Canada and the United States diagnosed phosphorous as the primary cause of the problem and, in a unique cooperative effort, reduced input to the lake from municipal and industrial wastewater plants and agricultural lands. Public pressure and government regulation encouraged the reluctant detergent industry to produce alternative detergents and, finally, reduced the input of phosphorous to targeted levels. Lake Erie is now rehabilitated, but its history over the last three decades demonstrates the importance of maintaining an environmental balance. Meticulously researched and documented, this book will appeal to environmentalists, historians, and readers who seek to understand the Great Lakes ecosystem, environmental issues, and environmental regulation.
Managing Ecosystems for A Sustainable Future
This timely collection written by an interdisciplinary array of law professors, who specialize in legal and policy issues surrounding ecosystem management, and scholars and practitioners in areas such as environmental policy and planning, conservation, economics, and biology explore why ecosystems must be valued and managed in their own right. The importance of ecosystems has been underestimated. We cannot simply hope ecosystems will benefit from legislation focused on other environmental and natural resource protections, such as those for wildlife, trees, air and water. An ecosystem, a community of organisms together with their physical environment, viewed as a system of interacting and interdependent relationships, has its own intricate administrative issues. Edited by Kalyani Robbins, a law professor, The Laws of Nature will investigate how ecosystems function, their value to humans and wildlife, and what factors affect ecosystems' survival. This analysis will be coupled with cutting-edge theories and regulatory proposals from legal scholars who study ecosystem questions. In the end, a thorough and multi-disciplinary understanding of the importance of ecosystem will be presented.
Winner of the 2010 Akron Poetry Prize, Le Spleen de Poughkeepsie is tender anti-epic, a grunge-tinged love song to America's benighted post-industrial heartland. Harmon's Poughkeepsie shimmers just beyond the borders of banal recognition. "If you're not part of the problem, / you're part of the lengthening / tragedy," Harmon writes in an introductory pastoral, seeking out "the stray / detours and workarounds of the secret / city inside the more obvious one...on the outskirts of the absurd / attention to the material life." Poughkeepsie is that city of the heart where no one can look at anyone else "alone," where "the noise of beauty" is a cop's bullet polishing off a "traffic-struck doe," where "five dollars takes you anywhere in this town / except out of it."
A Letter to Serafin is a multi-paneled study of juxtapositions and duplicities, where history becomes a living entity, not just a shadowy artifact. Minczeski colors his lines with dark hues of wry comedy and sharp tones of pathos, transcending geography and time by providing testimony on behalf of those who no longer can. This is a vital book for anyone who has ever been transported by a piece of artwork, or haunted by a photograph that projects meaning beyond its borders. If the aim of poetry is to speak the unspeakable, then John Minczeski gives voice to all that goes unsaid between generations.
In “Foreword,” the opening poem of Clare Rossini’s new book, Lingo, the poet exclaims: “Don’t tell me the tongue’s / Not a magical place.” And who would argue the point after reading these poems in which the body and spirit of language bring such joy, from a toddler’s garbled imitations to the ripe lines of Shakespeare? Whether in the Midwest or New England, in elegies or celebrations, Rossini takes comfort in the miracle of words, where the homely and exotic can flourish at the same time, like the thought of flamingoes in Minnesota (“Rice County Soliloquy”). Rossini treats both the human and the natural world with tenderness and good-hearted humor, her wit and compassion as impressive as the bravura of plainspoken poetry. Out of such grace come the graceful poems of Lingo.
The poetic manifesto has a long, rich history that hasn’t been updated until now. What does a poetic manifesto look like in a time of increased pluralism, relativism, and danger? How can a manifesto open a space for new and diverse voices? Forty-five poets at different stages of their careers contribute to this new anthology, demonstrating the relevance of the declarative form at the intersection of aesthetics and politics. The contributors also have chosen their own poems to accompany their manifestos—an anthologizing act that poets are never permitted. Invaluable for writers at any stage in their careers, this anthology may be especially useful for teachers of creative writing, both undergraduate and graduate.
Map of the Folded World, John Gallaher's third full-length collection, examines the eros and desperation of suburban America with the precision of a cartographer's eye. But as its title suggests, it does so according to the polar opposite of convention. More concerned with subtext than narrative, often childlike in tone and propelled by the logic of innocence, Gallaher's poems don't shy away from a bottom-line sensibility: “If you can just run fast enough,” one poem offers, “no one will ever die. // Do you remember that? / And are you better now?” This is a book filled with swimming pools and bridges, houses and families, the ordinary places, objects, and people that connect us. However, these same things are often misunderstood when it comes to their capacity for danger. As Gallaher observes, “It doesn't really matter...what / you're drowning in, / once you realize you're drowning.” Map of the Folded World brings us back to a territory that we never knew we had discovered, as it attempts to locate an ever-shifting present on an ever-changing field.
In her first book, Mistaking the Sea for Green Fields, Ashley Capps sounds like the voice of a fresh generation of poets, where the familiar turns suddenly elliptical, straight talk goes engagingly crooked, and the lyric negotiates with the matter-of-fact. Desperate for something solid to believe in, Capps still mistrusts authority, feeling disenchanted with God, family, eros, even her own impulsive self. And yet while the absence of faith hints at despair, these poems often achieve, almost inspite of themselves, an odd buoyancy. Playful, fearless, wary, there's a dazzling resilience in this book. One poem can make a grand and eccentric claim, "I forgive the afterlife," while another takes as its title something humbler and more poisonous, "God Bless Our Crop-Dusted Wedding Cake." No matter how adrift this poet may feel, poetry itself remains her anchor and lifeline.