Leviathan Barrister And Mann 2015 Eau de Toilette
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Homo homini lupus
Friday eight in the morning, political science seminar. On this gray autumn morning, I threw on my old leather jacket, left the house unmotivated, and took the tram to an old concrete university building that will soon be demolished anyway. The room is not too full; Friday morning is not exactly the most popular time for university events.
For the first time, I read from Thomas Hobbes' Leviathan. It won't be the last time. The English political philosopher had made few friends in his time. In the state of nature, he viewed humans as "wolves" to their fellow beings, trapped in a war of all against all. The only way out, he argued, was to transfer one's natural rights to a sovereign who held the monopoly on violence and could end this state of war. Even if Hobbes may be considered one of the main theorists of absolutism, he simultaneously stepped on the toes of both monarchists and liberals. The latter quite obviously, as they wanted rights of defense against an all-powerful state. The former precisely because Hobbes left open who should hold the monopoly on violence - it could be a king just as easily as any other autocrat.
Back from the 17th century to the East Germany of the 21st century, the scent of black, sweetened coffee wafts through the room. You need something to stay awake at such an (un)timely hour or to recover from the beer too much from the previous night. Slowly, the coffee gets colder, but still everyone clings to their mugs - filled with coffee that has turned cold, becoming increasingly bitter and smoky.
The emanations of the wooden furniture in the seminar room are only faintly perceptible now. The old GDR furniture has served its purpose for too long and has been worn down, yet it is unexpectedly cozy.
Now, absolutist systems are neither the "hot stuff" in practical politics nor in political science today. Nevertheless, Hobbes has not lost his relevance. His description of the war of all against all remains one of the prevailing descriptions of the state between nations, where there is no central authority that could effectively hold a monopoly on power. This shapes the thoroughly pessimistic theory of neorealism, which describes relations between states primarily in terms of power and military force.
In the end, however, most people probably thought "power" on Friday morning towards the end of the seminar: "Just end it already!" By ten, everyone is free again and can be released into the war of all against all outside. With bared teeth (or perhaps yawning), everyone moves toward the tram stop and then back home to prepare for the weekend. Only there, at home, will the musk note of "Leviathan" likely come through. Most will probably not have worn this scent in the club, as I recall the fragrance preferences of the late 2000s. In the dim, alternative student pub, where an unknown band plays far too loudly, this heavy scent could indeed play its charm. The mélange of overflowing, spicy coffee, with a hint of leather and some woody notes, radiates a certain warmth, like one could find in such a packed pub. It certainly forms an interesting counterpoint to the patchouli that one will often smell there - not in the sense of a contrast, but rather as a complement to it.
For the first time, I read from Thomas Hobbes' Leviathan. It won't be the last time. The English political philosopher had made few friends in his time. In the state of nature, he viewed humans as "wolves" to their fellow beings, trapped in a war of all against all. The only way out, he argued, was to transfer one's natural rights to a sovereign who held the monopoly on violence and could end this state of war. Even if Hobbes may be considered one of the main theorists of absolutism, he simultaneously stepped on the toes of both monarchists and liberals. The latter quite obviously, as they wanted rights of defense against an all-powerful state. The former precisely because Hobbes left open who should hold the monopoly on violence - it could be a king just as easily as any other autocrat.
Back from the 17th century to the East Germany of the 21st century, the scent of black, sweetened coffee wafts through the room. You need something to stay awake at such an (un)timely hour or to recover from the beer too much from the previous night. Slowly, the coffee gets colder, but still everyone clings to their mugs - filled with coffee that has turned cold, becoming increasingly bitter and smoky.
The emanations of the wooden furniture in the seminar room are only faintly perceptible now. The old GDR furniture has served its purpose for too long and has been worn down, yet it is unexpectedly cozy.
Now, absolutist systems are neither the "hot stuff" in practical politics nor in political science today. Nevertheless, Hobbes has not lost his relevance. His description of the war of all against all remains one of the prevailing descriptions of the state between nations, where there is no central authority that could effectively hold a monopoly on power. This shapes the thoroughly pessimistic theory of neorealism, which describes relations between states primarily in terms of power and military force.
In the end, however, most people probably thought "power" on Friday morning towards the end of the seminar: "Just end it already!" By ten, everyone is free again and can be released into the war of all against all outside. With bared teeth (or perhaps yawning), everyone moves toward the tram stop and then back home to prepare for the weekend. Only there, at home, will the musk note of "Leviathan" likely come through. Most will probably not have worn this scent in the club, as I recall the fragrance preferences of the late 2000s. In the dim, alternative student pub, where an unknown band plays far too loudly, this heavy scent could indeed play its charm. The mélange of overflowing, spicy coffee, with a hint of leather and some woody notes, radiates a certain warmth, like one could find in such a packed pub. It certainly forms an interesting counterpoint to the patchouli that one will often smell there - not in the sense of a contrast, but rather as a complement to it.
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3 Comments
I don't know the scent at all; I also commented on a coffee today that’s really good.