By utilizing words, photographs, and motion pictures, this multimodal and multisited project traces a rhizomatic genealogy of Russian Cosmism—a nineteenth century political theology promoting a universal human program for overcoming death, resurrecting ancestors, and traveling through the cosmos—amongst post-Soviet techno-utopian projects and imaginaries. I illustrate how Cosmist techno-utopian, futurist, and other-than-human discourse exist as Weberian “elective affinities” within diverse ecologies of the imagination, transmitting a variety of philosophies and political programs throughout trans-temporal, yet philosophically bounded, communities. With a particular focus on the United States and Ukraine, and taking an apophatic analytical position, I dissect how different groups of philosophers, technologists, and publics interact(ed) with Cosmism, as well as how seemingly disparate communities (re)shape and deterritorialize Cosmist political theology in an attempt to legitimize their constructed political imaginaries.

This dissertation investigates the relationship between the universal aspirationsof technology and the particularity of place, by way of close participant observation with biotechnology companies in the San Francisco Bay Area. Its central claim is that the aspiration to placelessness in the development of science and technology operates as material configurations, modes of subjectivation, and historical conditions particular to places. Following Foucault’s late work in ethics, I conduct a series of sustained investigations into the reflective modes of critique biotechnologists make in thinking of and being in the San Francisco Bay Area. I show the ways the aspiration to placelessness exists in place at four different vantage points: the organization, the city, the broader cultural history of the region, and the practices of self-cultivation undertaken by technologists. Within biotechnology organizations, biological work is digitized and automated only through an intensification of bespoke material infrastructures, physical labor, and tacit institutional knowledge. Biotechnology organizations have come into existence through a history of settler colonial erasure, industrial devastation, post-war industrial decay, and urban renewal in Bay Area industrial suburbs and neighborhoods. A nostalgic imagination of the broader San Francisco Bay Area and its history of counterculture become mobilized as an antidote to the felt lifelessness of these forms of urban renewal and technological order and incorporated back into engineering practice. Finally, the technologist themselves must aspire to placelessness, in ways critiqued by local landless people’s movements who offer an alternative ethic to place in their imperative to gentrifiers to “move home with your parents.” I conclude by reflecting on the ways interlocutors at each of these vantage points are actively exploring the creation of more enduring relationships to place in the face of the unintended but intensified forms of social suffering in zones of technological innovation.

Peyote is a subject which renders the mechanisms, forces, and assemblages of colonialism clear. It is in the very inability of the colonial world to categorize, locate, understand and react to peyote that reveals so much about how colonialism operates. A primary goal of this project is to demonstrate that through understanding peyote, and its role in both colonial and contemporary history, one may come to better understand or recognize racial hierarchies and colonial forces which have not gone away with time. The first chapter is primarily a discussion of the Ghost Dance, I lay out some of the difficulties that indigenous appeals to religious freedom face both in terms of political power, but also conceptual, cultural, and academic thinking. In chapter two I move more specifically to the topic of peyote, tracing peyote’s history from precolonial times to the present. Chapters three and four deal with peyote as part of the borderlands and part of the War on Drugs respectively. I argue that understanding peyote can benefit a broader decolonial project within scholarship. The richness of the intersections between peyote and myriad other subjects is vastly understudied in academia and continued decolonial scholarship on the topic could have immense potential in bringing new insights into view. I draw heavily on scholars such as Edward Said and Aimé Césaire, but I have also been strongly influenced by other scholars such as Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Frantz Fanon, and Gloria Anzaldúa. In keeping with the decolonial mission, it is important to recognize that much of what I am presenting in this work is necessarily new or radical to the indigenous communities who are close to the topics at hand. While I present my own novel insights and discoveries, I also intend for this project to be a call for greater attention and study to be brought to the subject of peyote.

Much of the anthropological and Islamic studies focus in recent years has addressed the shifting forms of Islamic piety across Muslim majority societies. The analysis of this shift in Islamic practice and belief has enveloped the changing sensibilities around technologies, social strata, democracy, law, and everyday life. In light of these transformations, after the fall of the Indonesian New Order in 1998, the performances of Islamic devotional songs (salawat) by Habib Syech bin Abdul Qadir Assegaf (Habib Syech) began bringing millions of people together across Indonesia, Malaysia, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Thailand, South Korea, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and Yemen. Although salawat has typically been performed in remembrance of the birth of Prophet Muhammad (mawlid) in localized celebrations. The performances of salawat by Habib Syech, on the other hand, occur fifteen or more times a month with crowds swelling to tens of thousands across multiple nation-states. Habib Syech’s salawat performances furthermore appeal to and bring together diverse Muslim populations that have historically been more divided. Habib Syech’s gatherings reveal how popular forms of piety are shifting in conjunction with profound societal changes in Indonesia and other Muslim communities. In untangling the popularity of Habib Syech’s gatherings, it was not until I became entangled in the rhythm of salawat that baraka, often translated as blessings, emerged as a slippery, elusive, and living helping propel the popularity of this phenomena. The guttural cries of my interlocutors (baraka, baraka, baraka) resonate and summon a methodology that takes the visible and invisible together in understanding the concept and life of baraka. I, like my interlocutors, began hunting baraka as an alternative, living concept that challenges understandings of Islam in Indonesia driven by Islamic civil organizations, prescriptive vs everyday Islamic piety, and Western interpretations of the world as disenchanted. This dissertation is an exploration of new opportunities for understanding religion in the modern world that emerge from the ethnographic field through the life of baraka.

With games an increasing various industry and cultural form, there are still many myths that surround the medium and restrict its potentials. When this often happens at the expense of marginalized audiences and creators who are already present within the space of games and the future realities of games, steps must be take to understand the nature of games and why these myths prove so insidious. By applying the approaches of Structuralism and Game Studies to the videogame Celeste, the ways that myths surrounding games can be picked away to give space to new ideologies of play, design, and consumption.

ABSTRACT

The purpose of this thesis is to identify the key determinants of changes in the public’s perception and the historical and legal context for the current laws that govern the Right to Die in America. At its essence, the Right to Die Movement can be summarized in six selected narratives that were performed, told, debated, or reported for the public throughout history. Each of these six stories was presented with the most effective communication technologies available to the narrators in their respective eras.

The thesis includes an original research study assessing the impact of a social media phenomenon on the Right to Die Movement. While the Brittany Maynard Farewell video may not have been solely responsible for the surge of public support for MAID, it certainly captured the sense of autonomy and individual rights Americans believe they have in 2014 and continuing at least through 2019. This belief in autonomy and individual rights influenced the American sense of who owns their bodies and who can control their deaths after they are given terminal diagnoses. The first key narrative introduced Natural Law and the Natural Rights that proceed from this universal law. The second opened up communication about death. The next three demonstrated to Americans what legal rights they had and which were withheld by tradition and law. The last narrative captured and embodied the American sense of autonomy and individual rights that a majority of Americans now feel they possess. The laws and policies that have resulted from the Right to Die Movement both define the boundaries of autonomy and construct an evolving understanding of human freedom.

This dissertation centers on the life of Patrick Francis Healy, the son of an enslaved woman and an Irish slaveholder. Born in 1834, Healy became a Jesuit priest in 1864 and the president of Georgetown University in 1874, seven decades before Georgetown admitted its first African American student. In the twentieth century, historical investigations of race and American Catholicism cast Healy and his family in a new light. Today, the Healys are upheld in some circles as African American Catholic icons. Patrick Healy is now remembered as the first African American Jesuit and Catholic university president, as well as the first African American to receive a doctorate. This dissertation pursues both the life of Patrick Healy as well as what I call his “afterlives,” or the ways in which he has been remembered since the 1950s, when Albert S. Foley, S.J. discovered that the Healys’ mother was enslaved and refashioned them from white Irish Americans to white-passing African Americans. How and why did Patrick Francis Healy understand and comport himself as a white, upper-class Catholic? How and why have others sought to construct him as African American in the years since his ancestry was made widely known? How has Georgetown incorporated Healy’s legacy, in the context of its and other universities’ coming-to-terms with their dealings with slavery more broadly? I pursue these questions through archival sources (primarily Healy’s diaries and letters) at Georgetown University and College of the Holy Cross, as well as secondary literature on passing, subjectivity, and hagiography.

This study analyzes competing forms of Protestant Christianity within the Bible Belt of the Upper South (Kentucky, Tennessee, and North Carolina). On one hand, a conservative “culture war” version of Christianity has dominated the South, and deeply influenced national politics, for almost fifty years. This form of Christianity is predicated on white supremacy and heteropatriarchy and regulates religious, as well as sexual, gender, and racial norms. On the other hand, an emerging movement of those once socialized in the culture war version of Protestantism is now reconfiguring the regional traditions. Through ethnographic fieldwork, qualitative interviews, and historical analysis, this study explores the ways these post-culture war Christians are navigating and negotiating relations with family, church, and politics and society more broadly. This work argues that Protestantism in the Upper South is being re-landscaped from the inside by individuals staying within the tradition who seek to reorient regional, national and religious identities. This study goes beyond generalizations about changes in American religion to shed light on the specific motivations, conflicts and dynamics inherent in shifts in lived religion in this particular region. In so doing it also contributes to deeper understanding of processes of religious change more generally.

In my Honors Thesis, I endeavor to complicate and to respond to conventional debates over historical periodization and the problem of what it means to be "modern." I understand the modern as a conceptual product of discourses surrounding religion, science, and industry. Specifically, the modern era has been defined as one in which the forms of rationalization associated with quantitative and experimental scientific methods and large-scale, technologically sophisticated industrial production have surpassed the "irrational" superstitions associated with religion. Critical responses to this definition have largely had the goal of supplanting it with another way of conceiving of the historical discontinuity between the "modern" and the "non-modern." In three essays, I aim to complicate the terms (religion, science, and industry) in which these debates have been conducted and to relate them to one another both historically and conceptually. As opposed to the goal of re-defining the modern, my goal in these essays is to complicate the existing definitions and to reveal and challenge the ideological motives of historical periodization. I illuminate the connections of the modern conception of "religion" to a colonial system of power, between scientific development and changes in economic and religious thinking, and between contemporary technological and industrial projects to an "enchanted" view of the world. In tracing these connections, I am indebted to conventional discourses of modernization, Max Weber's theory of "disenchantment," and recent scholarship on the use of materialist methods in the study of history. In these essays, I move beyond the critical project of "re-imagining" the modern, and illuminate some of the ideological commitments of that project that I consider untenable. In addition to a more sophisticated historical understanding of the meaning of religion, science, and industry, what I aim to achieve in my thesis is a better framing of some of the largest problems faced by contemporary humanity, including the looming risks of ecological, economic, and geopolitical collapse. In this framing, I situate these risks in the context of their connection to strategies of historical periodization, and argue that managing them will require a radically new view of religion, science, industry, and the roles that they play in producing historical discontinuity.