<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><channel><title>Byung-Chul Han on Aneesh Sathe</title><link>https://aneeshsathe.com/tags/byung-chul-han/</link><description>Recent content in Byung-Chul Han on Aneesh Sathe</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Fri, 27 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://aneeshsathe.com/tags/byung-chul-han/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Octotypic Mind</title><link>https://aneeshsathe.com/the-octotypic-mind/</link><pubDate>Fri, 27 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://aneeshsathe.com/the-octotypic-mind/</guid><description>&lt;h2 id="the-scholars-of-dejima"&gt;
The Scholars of Dejima
&lt;a href="#the-scholars-of-dejima" class="heading-anchor"&gt;#&lt;/a&gt;
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&lt;p&gt;In the 1770s, a samurai, a physician, and a Confucian scholar gathered around a Dutch anatomy textbook none of them could properly read. They were attempting a translation of the &lt;em&gt;Tabulae Anatomicae&lt;/em&gt;. Sugita Genpaku and his collaborators, the &lt;a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rangaku"&gt;rangaku-sha&lt;/a&gt;, &amp;ldquo;Dutch studies scholars&amp;rdquo; of Tokugawa Japan. The shogunate had sealed the country for over a century. European knowledge trickled in through one pinhole: the Dutch trading post on Dejima, a fan-shaped artificial island in Nagasaki harbor.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Deep Dark Terroir of the Soul</title><link>https://aneeshsathe.com/the-deep-dark-terroir-of-the-soul/</link><pubDate>Fri, 26 Dec 2025 02:17:37 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://aneeshsathe.com/the-deep-dark-terroir-of-the-soul/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This is the third and final part of the &lt;em&gt;Thicket&lt;/em&gt; Series:&lt;br&gt;
Part 1: &lt;a href="https://aneeshsathe.com/logic-of-the-thicket-and-the-unsearchable-web/"&gt;Logic of the Thicket and the Unsearchable Web&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;
Part 2: &lt;a href="https://aneeshsathe.com/the-architecture-of-resistance/"&gt;The Architecture of Resistance&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
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&lt;p&gt;The history of the working subject might be best understood not as a ledger of wages or a sequence of industrial breakthroughs, but as a study in the migration of the Master. In the eighteenth century, the Master was a concrete presence, a figure residing in the castle or the cathedral, distinct from the worker by a physical and social chasm. One knew where the authority lived because one could see the smoke from its chimneys. By the nineteenth century, this figure had moved into the factory office, closer to the rhythm of the machine but still identifiable by the suit and the watch. The twentieth century saw a further dissolution; the Master became atmospheric, blending into the very walls of the institutions that housed us—the schools, the hospitals, the barracks.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>