Zeitschriftenartikel zum Thema „Furniture, Mission“

Furniture is the most personalized component of architectural space. It reflects or even determines the use of space, but also the standard of living, the gender, and age of the user. Heirlooms, furthermore, are retainers of memory and social relationships. The raw materials used and the level of skill and craftsmanship to produce furniture speak to the availability of such items for the community. Import of wood, techniques, or entire pieces of furniture show connectedness with other production centers. Furniture fragments are abundant among the well-preserved archaeological finds from the ancient Greco-Roman Town of Karanis, a site located on the arid desert edge of the Fayum basin, Egypt. Objects include furniture legs, boxes, reading tables, and table tops. The University of Michigan mission which worked on the site for about ten years (1924-1934), had as its main focus the architecture of Karanis. The furnishings of these structure do, however, provide important information and a study of the woodworking and composition of the pieces has now been undertaken, together with an attempt to place these remains back in their virtual context. The reconstruction of the Karanis furniture provides a major challenge because the fragments belong to various time periods and combine Egyptian, Greek, and Roman influences and tastes. This research is a next phase of the project “Reviving Karanis in 3D”, which we started in 2013. In this research, we aim at using state-of-the-art digital technologies to create multiple interpretations of 3D reconstruction of a selection of furniture pieces based on analysis and photogrammetric models of wood furniture fragments from the Karanis collection of the Kelsey Museum of Archaeology, University of Michigan.

Kawan Lama Group has been established since 1955 and until now has several business fields engaged in the Retail, Industrial, Food and Beverage, Service, Property and E-commerce sectors. For more than half a century, Kawan Lama continues to grow and develop to employ more than 40,000 employees. Kawan Lama Group's vision is more than just a family business, we are a business for families. Our mission is to bring values to a better life through business development and sustainable growth. PT. Home Center Kawan Lama or Informa is a furniture company starting from home furniture, office furniture, to commercial space furniture. Informa provides more than 35,000 quality items that can meet the needs of customers to have their dream furniture. The NASA-TLX method was developed by Sandra. G Hart from NASA-Ames Research Center and Lowell E. Staveland from San Jose State University in 1981. This method performs multidimensional measurements by considering weights and grades. The level of the first factor relates to the work performed, while the other three factors relate to the subject. The average WWL (weighted workload) mental workload of customer service employees prior to the proposed work shift improvement, application of music therapy and motivation is the morning shift of 76.78, the afternoon shift of 77.97 and the night shift of 80. Average Results WWL (weighted workload) mental workload of employees in the morning, afternoon and evening shifts shows a high mental workload. The morning, afternoon and evening shifts have significant differences in physical needs, mental needs, time requirements, performance, stress levels and average WWL (weighted workload).

PurposeThe purpose of this study is to develop a methodology to help manufacturers determine and rank key internal business processes based on critical success factors (CSF).Design/methodology/approachFirst, company CSF and key performance measures were determined based on vision, mission and strategic objectives statements. Second, most important CSF were prioritized according to rating scores such as cost savings, necessary improvement, and own discretion using a balanced scoreboard procedure and a prioritization matrix. Third, CSF were related to internal business processes based on “strength of relationship” in order to define the most critical internal processes. Fourth, possible differences in the perception of CSF and strategic objectives among different management levels were compared. Fifth, the methodology was validated in three furniture manufacturing companies.FindingsIt was found that when a firm is missing vision or mission statements, it is imperative to define them before CSF can be identified. The CSF found through this case study were related to customer service, manufacturing management, quality and price of the products. The key internal business processes identified for the companies in this study were customer engagement, product operations and supply chain management. Conclusions show that better results were obtained when this methodology was applied to highest‐level of management.Originality/valueThis study has proved to be a useful tool to determine a strategy based on CSF and their relationship to internal business processes. Plant managers in our case studies were able to prioritize the critical internal business processes for their plants based on the most important CSF.

Strategic planning is done in order to the company can look at it objectively internal and external conditions that the company can anticipate changes in the external environment. Strategic planning begins with the introduction of the company's vision and mission in order to determine which company will produce an overview of the internal and external environment. Furthermore conduct a SWOT analysis to formulate appropriate strategic alternatives to position the company. The last stage is the decision-making strategies using Fuzzy Quantitive Strategic Planning Matrix (FQSPM) to determine and select the best strategy from a number of alternative strategies given certain criteria using Fuzzy Technique for Order Preference by Similarity to Ideal. Solution (FTOPSIS). Results of the determination of the strategy chosen by the fuzzy TOPSIS for furniture company is intelegent increased marketing and promotional products.

The current industrial development is related to increasing global action and public awareness of environmental issues with Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). It makes the implementation of green supply chain management on Green Supplier Evaluation and Selection (GSES) more appreciated because it can affect the company's environmental perfor­mance. Companies that can improve their environmental performance will be able to increase their competitive advantage and have an impact on increasing revenue, market share, and a more positive green image of the company. Currently, there is no research about green supplier selection in the furniture industry, especially in Indonesia. So, it is necessary to research the industry because it hugely affects environmental performance. One of the companies engaged in the furniture industry is X company. They are selecting their suppliers only based on the ownership of the environmental certification of each supplier and the quality of the raw materials. Environmental criteria such as the green image in the community and environmental competency have not been considered. On the one hand, X company also wants to realize its mission of environmental sensitivity. This study aims to select the best green supplier of mindi wood raw materials by integrating fuzzy AHP and TOPSIS because these methods can make practical multicriteria decisions and obtain more valid results. The results obtained indicate that the 8th green supplier has the highest preference value of 0.777 so it is called the best alternative for mindi wood raw materials.

The city is a place for human life, where all the components necessary for human life must be present in the city so that human beings can live physically and mentally in peace. The cities of Afghanistan, especially the residential town of Ahmad Shah Baba Mina, are facing many problems. The purpose of this research was to investigate the problems of this town and to provide suggestions for its improvement and organization. The method of this research is library, perception and field considerations. Targeted interviews were conducted with 12 people who were familiar with urban design and urban planning issues. The analysis was performed by SWOT technique and space arrangement. The research results show that this town is faced with challenges such as transportation problems, lack of proper sidewalks, lack of urban furniture, visual personality and identity issues, environmental challenges, lack of proper distribution of land uses, congestion in public spaces. And there are issues that have changed the physical appearance and public spaces. During this research, suggestions for setting up public transportation routes, setting up vendors and new neighborhoods for their activities, Create special bike lanes, Improving the quality of public spaces has been provided to create public activities, improve public spaces as well as promote sensory richness.

In this study, we investigate a millimeter wave (mmWave) synthetic aperture radar (SAR) imaging scheme utilizing a low-cost frequency modulated continuous wave (FMCW) radar to take part in non-destructive testing which could be a useful tool for both civilian and military demands. The FMCW radar working in the frequency range from 76 GHz to 81 GHz is equipped with a 2-D moving platform aiming to reconstruct the 2-D image of the shape of the target object. Due to the lab environment containing several devices and furniture, various noise and interference signals from the floor are not avoidable. Therefore, the digital signal processing algorithms are joined to remove the undesired signals as well as improve the target recognition. This study adopts the range migration algorithms (RMAs) on the processed reflected signal data to form the image of the target because of its verified ability in this type of mission. On the other hand, the integration of compressed sensing (CS) algorithms into the SAR imaging system is also researched which helps to improve the performance of the system by reducing the measurement duration while still maintaining the image quality. Three minimization algorithms are used involving the imaging system as the CS solvers reconstruct the radar data before being processed by RMA to form the image. The proposed imaging scheme demonstrates its good ability with high azimuth resolution in the mission of detecting tiny cracks in the rebar of reinforced concrete. In addition, the participation of CS algorithms improves the performance of the scheme as the cracks on the rebar can be located on the images, which are reconstructed from only 30% of the dataset. The comparison of CS solvers shows that ADMM outperforms the other candidates in the reconstruction task.

With more and more universities expanding and redesigning their landscape spaces, therefore their outdoor furnitures shape, dimension, quality and usage are also changing and redesigning. One of the significant changes in the design process is the taking of users needs/concerns into account. This change is influenced by a community-based design concept found in public spaces design. In this paper, we propose a Design for Assembly Study (DFA) which is focus on examining the past practice of outdoor wooden Materual furniture design in campus spaces by using Quality Function Deployment (QFD) to fill in this missing link. The employment of different matrices to capture the relationship between the voice of customer (VOC) and subsequent design and quality characteristics compose an evaluation framework suitable to fill the gap in the assembly procedure of outdoor wooden frame furniture. The study also produces several insights applies on outdoor wooden furniture design in campus space. Keywords: Wooden Material, Outdoor furniture, Outdoor space, Design Evaluation Procedure

Abstract Objective – This article evaluates the usage and user experience of the Herman B Wells Library’s Learning Commons, a newly renovated technology and learning centre that provides services and spaces tailored to undergraduates’ academic needs at Indiana University Bloomington (IUB). Methods – A mixed-method research protocol combining time-lapse photography, unobtrusive observation, and random-sample surveys was employed to construct and visualize a representative usage and activity profile for the Learning Commons space. Results – Usage of the Learning Commons by particular student groups varied considerably from expectations based on student enrollments. In particular, business, first and second year students, and international students used the Learning Commons to a higher degree than expected, while humanities students used it to a much lower degree. While users were satisfied with the services provided and the overall atmosphere of the space, they also experienced the negative effects of insufficient space and facilities due to the space often operating at or near its capacity. Demand for collaboration rooms and computer workstations was particularly high, while additional evidence suggests that the Learning Commons furniture mix may not adequately match users’ needs. Conclusions – This study presents a unique approach to space use evaluation that enables researchers to collect and visualize representative observational data. This study demonstrates a model for quickly and reliably assessing space use for open-plan and learning-centred academic environments and for evaluating how well these learning spaces fulfill their institutional mission.

In India, the National Rural Health Mission envisaged of having committees with civil society representation at all publicly financed hospitals known as Rogi Kalyan Samiti (RKS), with mandate to enhance governance in hospitals. There are limited evidences about functioning of these committees in many states, especially in North Eastern (NE) states. This paper analyses the perspective of RKS members and relate to changing community- health system structure for improved governance. The study was conducted in three states Manipur, Meghalaya, and Tripura of NE Region of India. Using stratified sampling design, 14 RKS/facilities were selected from Manipur, 15 from Meghalaya and 11 from Tripura. Two key informants (mainly, president/secretary of RKS) were interviewed using a semi-structured pre-tested questionnaire in local language. The major areas of RKS operationalization identified include; constitution, finance management and activities related to health systems strengthening. RKS was constituted during 2006-07 with governing body following issuance of government of India guidelines. The funds (grants and User Fee) were utilized for purchase of furniture, bio-medical waste management etc. The governing body meetings focused mainly on ensuring services; in Tripura 72% of RKS had regular meetings and have shown improvement in functioning of facilities.Formation of RKS model paved way to a new beginning for strengthening health system with involvement of local leaders, civil society to improve governance. The functioning is derived by availability of resources, capacity of committee members and the bureaucratic process. Revision in functioning of RKS model is essential towards self-sustainability and bridge between community-health systems.South East Asia Journal of Public Health Vol.4(2) 2014: 16-22

Objective: To explore the National Survey of Drug Information Centers practice in Saudi Arabia: Leadership and Practice management at Ministry of Health hospital. Method: It is a cross-sectional four months national survey of Drug Information Services at Ministry of Health hospital. It contained ten domains with 181 questions designed by the authors. It was derived from Internal Pharmaceutical Federation, American Society of Health-System Pharmacists best practice guidelines. This survey was distributed to forty hospital pharmacies that run drug information services. In this study, domain of Drug Monitoring and Patient Counselling System explored and analyzed. It consisted of eight questions about the written policy and procedure and application methods for Leadership and Practice management in the drug information centers. All analysis was done through survey monkey system. Results: The survey distributed to 45 of hospitals, the response rate, was 40 (88.88%) hospitals. The highest score of the DIC had policy and procedures with a clear mission, vision, and values were Evidence of valid Saudi Council of Health Specialties license to practice in Saudi Arabia did not exist in 3 (7.5%) hospitals while 30 (75%) of hospitals 100% applied the elements. The highest score of the Drug information centers had a space, adequate furniture, hours of operation were determined and announced as well as there was a qualified and licensed staffing. All Drug Information Centers staff had valid licenses from Saudi Commission for Health Specialties to practice in Saudi Arabia, did not exist in 6 (15%) hospitals while 30 (75%) of hospitals 100% applied the elements. The highest score of the Drug Information Centers Supervisor, reports workload statistics to the appropriate and leadership number of Full Time Employee staff and actual workload published was the answering question depends on the priority of the question did not exist in 6 (15%) hospitals while only 22 (55%) of hospitals 100% applied the elements. The highest score of the Drug Information Centers showed evidence of Quality Improvement, and the process for Drug Information Centers Networking. The reporting any questionable drug quality to Pharmacy director, did not exist in 4 (10 %) hospitals while only 25 (62.5%) of hospitals 100% applied the elements. Conclusion: There were an acceptable implementation leadership and practice management in drug information centers practice. The drug information centers workload analysis and quality management should improve. Drug information centers network indication required an implementation to improve the services at Ministry of Health hospital in Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.

This article examines the impact on American furniture and clothing styles by women missionaries traveling to Turkey in the Victorian era. Although there has been much discussion of the impact of Western missionaries on Turkey and other parts of Asia, the reciprocal impact on American culture has not been adequately assessed. Missionary work, which started in the 1820s in a modest manner, turned into a systematic and large-scale activity, reaching its climax during the last quarter of the nineteenth century. Unlike Western diplomats, whose visits took place in the palaces of Istanbul, far from the realities of everyday life, missionary women had informal contact with ordinary Turkish women. Ottoman Turkish domestic space was highly gendered, so only these missionary women would have had access to authentic Ottoman Turkish interiors and been able to observe them as social spaces. The furniture style and the unique concept of comfort that they observed in Turkey presented an alternative point of view of home life and its organization. After spending years abroad, these women would return to the US to recruit and raise money for their missions by traveling from community to community, often creating interest for their work abroad by presenting examples of material culture. This article will put letters, diaries, travelogues and other contemporary material in the context of American culture of the Victorian era in order to chart the unusual way in which American and Turkish women interacted with each other at this historical moment.

The aim of this paper is to introduce a novel technique of data integration between two different data sets, i.e. laser scanned RGB point cloud and oblique imageries derived 3D model, to create a 3D model with more details and better accuracy. In general, aerial imageries are used to create a 3D city model. Aerial imageries produce an overall decent 3D city models and generally suit to generate 3D model of building roof and some non-complex terrain. However, the automatically generated 3D model, from aerial imageries, generally suffers from the lack of accuracy in deriving the 3D model of road under the bridges, details under tree canopy, isolated trees, etc. Moreover, the automatically generated 3D model from aerial imageries also suffers from undulated road surfaces, non-conforming building shapes, loss of minute details like street furniture, etc. in many cases. On the other hand, laser scanned data and images taken from mobile vehicle platform can produce more detailed 3D road model, street furniture model, 3D model of details under bridge, etc. However, laser scanned data and images from mobile vehicle are not suitable to acquire detailed 3D model of tall buildings, roof tops, and so forth. Our proposed approach to integrate multi sensor data compensated each other’s weakness and helped to create a very detailed 3D model with better accuracy. Moreover, the additional details like isolated trees, street furniture, etc. which were missing in the original 3D model derived from aerial imageries could also be integrated in the final model automatically. During the process, the noise in the laser scanned data for example people, vehicles etc. on the road were also automatically removed. Hence, even though the two dataset were acquired in different time period the integrated data set or the final 3D model was generally noise free and without unnecessary details.

Minangkabau language is not free from language contact with other languages. This language contact brought about a change in the Minangkabau language. This change also occurs in the lexicon associated with household furniture. This article aims to describe the lexicon in the meaning field of lost or potentially missing household furniture and explain its reasons. The data are provided by applying conversational method with a set of techniques. The research was carried out in areas, including suburbs. Informants consist of different generations intending to know the existence of the lexicon in that generation. The data were analyzed using identity method namely translational and referencial identity methods with a set of techniques that are in accordance with this field research. The data analysis shows that the old lexicon and the new lexicon are household appliances. The use of the new lexicon can have some impacts, namely, the loss of the use of the old lexicon and another lexicon that collocates with it. AbstrakBahasa Minangkabau tidak terbebas dari kontak bahasa dengan bahasa lain. Kontak bahasa ini membawa perubahan dalam bahasa Minangkabau. Perubahan itu juga terjadi pada lekson yang berkait dengan peralatan rumah tangga. Artikel ini bertujuan untuk mendeskripsikan keadaan penggunaan leksikon peralatan rumah tangga yang lama, penggunaan leksikon peralatan rumah tangga yang baru dan pengaruh penggunaannya pada leksikon yang lama dan lekskon yang terkait dengan leksikon lama tersebut. Data dikumpulkan dengan menggunakan metode cakap dengan seperangkat teknik. Pengumpulan data dilakukan di daerah yang termasuk pinggiran kota. Informan terdiri dari generasi yang berbeda dengan tujuan mengetahui eksistensi dari leksikon di generasi tersebut. Data dianalisis dengan menggunakan metode padan referensial dan translasional dengan seperangkat teknik yang sesuai dengan penelitian ini. Dari analisis data diperoleh leksikon lama dan leksikon baru di ranah peralatan rumah tangga. Penggunaan leksikon baru dapat berdampak, yaitu hilangnya penggunaan leksikon lama dan leksikon yang lain yang berkolokasi dengannya.

As a result of intensive robotisation over the past decade, employees have been constantly experiencing job insecurity, a term which refers to the perceived threat of job loss and the worries related to this threat. Previous studies have supported the detrimental effect of job insecurity on employees; however, the focus on happiness at work is still missing, despite the notion that a happy employee is essentially contributing to sustainable business performance. Trying to narrow the gap, the paper aims at revealing the linkage between job insecurity and happiness at work and its dimensions, namely job satisfaction, affective organisational commitment, and work engagement. Building on the hindrance stressor dimension of the stress model, and conservation of resources and psychological contract theories, the paper claims that a negative relationship exists between the constructs. Quantitative data were collected in a survey of robotised production line operators working in the furniture sector in Lithuania. As predicted, the results revealed that job insecurity had a negative impact on happiness at work as a higher-order construct and all of its dimensions. This finding should be taken seriously by organisations creating a robotised production environment while striving for sustainability.

Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to investigate the firm’s role in the value creation process. In particular, after categorizing the activities that firms carry out to facilitate the creation of value, the “value space,” an actionable framework within which different dimensions of value creation are integrated, is developed and discussed. Design/methodology/approach – The framework is built up on process theory, an in-depth review of the literature and a multiple case study carried out on 65 European firms in the furniture industry. Findings – The value space is both a practical and theoretically based framework which contributes to the development of a more holistic and “actionable” view on the role of firm in the value creation process; also it provides managers with a tool to support the analysis, management and innovation of the value creation process. Originality/value – The systematic categorization of firms’ activities and their subsequent integration into a value creation framework are a missing piece in terms of understanding the value creation process carried out by firms. Also, by facilitating the analysis and innovation of the value creation process, the framework can be used to support both exploitative and explorative business process management.

In this research, it is to provide a more accurate and realistic follow-up of the production process with manual cards in an electronic environment. In this way, it is aimed to fulfill the requirements of the Industry 4.0 approach existing within the company. For this purpose, a system called "Electronic Kanban" has been developed in the scope of the study, with the digital transformation approach, where products can be followed more easily and instantly compared to the kanban method. This developed system has been adapted to Çilek Furniture production system. With this system, which was developed and started to be implemented, the cycle times of the modules, the completion status of the parts, the processing time, their routes, the wastage and missing materials were made visible. The process of creating kanban files and cards and the possibility of errors related to this have been completely eliminated. In this way, the performance of the production process has been increased by providing significant savings in time and cost in the production process. At the same time, an infrastructure was created for the module tracking system, which is planned to be built with artificial intelligence in the future.

Plastics are ubiquitous persistent pollutants, forming the most representative material of the Anthropocene. In the environment, they undergo wear and tear (i.e., mechanical fragmentation, and slow photo and thermo-oxidative degradation) forming secondary microplastics (MPs). Further fragmentation of primary and secondary MPs results in nanoplastics (NPs). To assess potential health damage due to human exposure to airborne MPs and NPs, we summarize the evidence collected to date that, however, has almost completely focused on monitoring and the effects of airborne MPs. Only in vivo and in vitro studies have assessed the toxicity of NPs, and a standardized method for their analysis in environmental matrices is still missing. The main sources of indoor and outdoor exposure to these pollutants include synthetic textile fibers, rubber tires, upholstery and household furniture, and landfills. Although both MPs and NPs can reach the alveolar surface, the latter can pass into the bloodstream, overcoming the pulmonary epithelial barrier. Despite the low reactivity, the number of surface area atoms per unit mass is high in MPs and NPs, greatly enhancing the surface area for chemical reactions with bodily fluids and tissue in direct contact. This is proven in polyvinyl chloride (PVC) and flock workers, who are prone to persistent inflammatory stimulation, leading to pulmonary fibrosis or even carcinogenesis.

This study investigated defect risks in residential buildings using the Loss Distribution Approach (LDA), a method of identifying and quantifying operational risks in economic terms. Analysis was performed on 7554 defects in 48 residential buildings where defect disputes occurred between 2008 and 2017. Defects were classified into eight types: affected functionality, broken items, corrosion, detachment, incorrect installation, missing task, surface appearance, and water problems. Work types were classified into seven groups: reinforced concrete (RC), masonry, finish, mechanical, electrical, and plumbing (MEP), door and windows, furniture, and miscellaneous. Using a risk matrix from these categories, the frequency distribution and severity distribution for each matrix cell was used to calculate loss distributions; these were combined to find the total loss distribution. The defect risks centered on RC and MEP. For RC, broken items and water leaks due to cracks or damage represented the most severe defects. For MEP, severe defects occurred owing to malfunctions in products and installation problems. Loss distributions can be used to create scenarios and corresponding response plans; thus, when a defect dispute occurs, the cost can be assessed. Furthermore, residential buildings’ loss distributions for each cell can be used to evaluate the types of work where defects occur and to verify relevant subcontractor’s abilities.

AbstractThis paper examines whether second language (L2)-English learners whose native languages (L1; Korean and Mandarin) lack obligatory plural marking transfer the properties of plural marking from their L1s, and whether transfer is manifested both offline (in a grammaticality judgment task) and online (in a self-paced reading task). The online task tests the predictions of the morphological congruency hypothesis (Jiang 2007), according to which L2 learners have particular difficulty automatically activating the meaning of L2 morphemes that are incongruent with their L1. Experiment 1 tests L2 learners’ sensitivity to errors of –s oversuppliance with mass nouns, while Experiment 2 tests their sensitivity to errors of –s omission with count nouns. The findings show that (a) L2 learners detect errors with nonatomic mass nouns (sunlights) but not atomic ones (furnitures), both offline and online; and (b) L1-Korean L2-English learners are more successful than L1-Mandarin L2-English learners in detecting missing –s with definite plurals (these boat), while the two groups behave similarly with indefinite plurals (many boat). Given that definite plurals require plural marking in Korean but not in Mandarin, the second finding is consistent with L1-transfer. Overall, the findings show that learners are able to overcome morphological incongruency and acquire novel uses of L2 morphemes.

In response to an anti-Federalist insurgency within the province of Córdoba in 1840, Manuel López, the governor (r. 1835-1852) and staunchally to Juan Manuel de Rosas, issued a directive to all provincial judges to round up all suspected Unitarians and their families, seize their property, and strip them of their citizenship. In following these orders, Pedro José García, the local juez de paz (Justice of the Peace), the principle law enforcement body of Pueblo de la Toma in the heart of Córdoba province, proceeded to the farmhouse of Faustino Avalo, who had recently been “classified” as a “savage Unitarian,” a political label describing any person opposing Federalist rule. García charged Avalos with secretly aiding and abetting Unitarian armies, which had passed through the province during the anti-Federalist uprisings in the previous year. As evidence of his guilt, according to the confiscation order, Avalos went missing for weeks and was nowhere to be found. Indeed, when García arrived, only Avalos's wife, María Juana Villafáñez, and their ten children remained. Nevertheless, García, along with two other “trusted” witnesses, read the order and confiscated the entire family's property. Villafáñez and her children could only watch helplessly as their clothes, toys, furniture, and livestock were taken away in wagons and their house boarded up. Yet, García did not arrest nor imprison Villafáñez and her children; instead, they were allowed to stay with her brother, Gervasio, a well-known Federalist and one of the “trusted” witnesses to his sister's material loss and public humiliation.

Air pollution is a serious health problem in major cities in Mexico. The concentrations of monitored criteria pollutants have been above the US National Ambient Air Quality Standards for the last decade. To determine whether the number of primary malignant nasal and paranasal neoplasms has increased, we surveyed 256 such cases admitted to a major adult oncology hospital located in metropolitan Mexico City (MMC) for the period from 1976–1997 and to a tertiary hospital in Monterrey, an industrial city, for the period from 1993–1998. The clinical histories and histopathologic material were reviewed, and a brief clinical summary was written for each case. In the MMC hospital the number of newly diagnosed nasal and paranasal neoplasms per year for the period from 1976–1986 averaged 5.1, whereas for the next 11 years it increased to 12.5. The maximal increase was observed in 1995–1997, with an average of 20.3 new cases per year ( P = 0.0006). The predominant neoplasms in these series were non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, squamous cell carcinoma, melanoma, adenocarcinoma, Schneiderian carcinoma, and nasopharyngeal carcinoma. In the Monterrey hospital a 2-fold increase in the numbers of newly diagnosed nasal and paranasal neoplasms was recorded between 1993 and 1998. The predominant MMC neoplasm in this series, namely nasal T-cell/natural killer cell non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, is potentially Epstein-Barr virus related. Nasal and paranasal malignant neoplasms are generally rare. Environmental causative factors include exposure in industries such as nickel refining, leather, and wood furniture manufacturing. Although epidemiologic studies have not addressed the relationship between outdoor air pollution and sinonasal malignant neoplasms, there is strong evidence for the nasal and paranasal carcinogenic effect of occupational aerosol complex chemical mixtures. General practitioners and ear, nose, and throat physicians working in highly polluted cities should be aware of the clinical presentations of these patients. Identification of this apparent increase in sinonasal malignant neoplasms in two urban Mexican polluted cities warrants further mechanistic and epidemiologic studies.

This paper studies incentive compensation at Fritz Hansen, a Danish manufacturer of exclusive design furniture. A vast amount of literature exists within incentives theory. However, regardless of the establishedness of incentives theory it is not able to fully explain the case at Fritz Hansen. Several short-comings of incentives theory are found: managers whose compensation is not tied to BSC measures behave in accordance with these measures; no bonus bank is included in the incentives system to accompany EVA measures on which managers are rewarded but there seem to be no resulting focus on short-term results; managers self-select the bonus measures but they select measures that they cannot directly influence. Regardless of these breaches, the situation at Fritz Hansen seems to be in equilibrium with managers behaving in the interest of the owners and the owner representatives being satisfied with the incentives system. In order to better understand how and why the design of incentive compensation at Fritz Hansen seems to function, contingency theory is drawn upon. While contingency theory provides a usable framework for the study important variables not previously mentioned in contingency theory is missing before the case of Fritz Hansen can be explained. Using the case study method the variables change urgency, the presence of an ultimate lagging goal, the legitimising effect, the system of measurement, non-financial measurement and lastly the controllability principle are extracted from the case. Together, these can explain why EVA is still included as a compensation base and why managers are motivated by BSC measures although they are not part of the compensation base

It is seen that studies on learning spaces in higher education institutions are very few in the literature. However, spaces have the power to affect behaviors and interactions with others. This study aims to determine the wishes of university students regarding the physical environment. For this purpose, it is planned to determine the missing things in the existing physical environment according to the “wish poems” of undergraduate students and their related wishes. Accordingly, the sample of the study consisted of 211 participants among the students of the faculty of education at a state university. In the study, for the purpose of revealing the views of the undergraduate students on the physical environment of their school, they were given a semi-structure, open-ended question format as “I wish there were … in my classroom/faculty/campus” and asked to write down 3 wishes regarding the physical environment. The obtained data were analyzed by using the content analysis method. In the study, different numbers of conceptual categories were reached under each sub-title with the method of coding and imaging. At the end of the study, 578 clear responses were obtained, and after examination, these responses were gathered under 35 conceptual categories in total. The categories about which the students had the most wishes were related to the furniture and equipment in their classrooms (f=51, 26.2%), social (f=33, 18.5%) and scientific (f=32, 17.9%) areas at the faculty and green spaces at the campus (f=61, 29.6%). Consequently, as pioneers of social and scientific change, it is important for universities to reevaluate their existing physical facilities based on the wishes of students in terms of feeding their innovative instincts.

Purpose This study aims to explore the enablers and barriers to design-driven innovation, defined as the innovation of product meanings, in the product-development process. Previous research provides some insights into what enables and hinders design-driven innovation; however a detailed understanding of these factors is missing. Design/methodology/approach A long-term case study was conducted at a furniture company between 2009 and 2016. Interviews were conducted with respondents within the company, as well as with partners such as retailers and designers. Findings This paper presents an overview of the identified enablers and barriers. The results demonstrate that enablers and barriers occur in all phases of the product-development process. Second, the connections between enablers and barriers are presented. These are found both within and across different phases, and extend beyond the company’s influence. Research limitations/implications This study demonstrates how the innovation of product meanings is influenced throughout all phases of the product-development process. Therefore, there is a need to go beyond the mere identification of enablers and barriers. More is gained from generating a thorough understanding of the causes and connections of these factors, including the changes over time. Practical implications This study demonstrates the need for companies to be able to map what enables and hinders design-driven innovation in their product-development process, where a distinction needs to be made between internal and external factors, to enhance value creation. Originality/value This study presents a rare long-term case study on design-driven innovation. This study provides new knowledge on the enablers and barriers a company faces while adapting its product-development process to accommodate design-driven innovation.

The election of district chiefs (Pemilihan Kepala Daerah: Pilkada)took place in all Indonesia provinces, in 2018. Tanjungpinang, the capital city of Riau Islands province also performs this such election. There are two couples of candidates who compete in achieving people votes. The candidates organized their ideas, visions, missions, by using the outdoor medias, like banners, billboards, posters, and street furniture. This study attemps to find out the surface construction of the election of district chiefs sentences of political campaign. This is a linguisticresearch. It analysed the language use in political aims in terms of register. Register is a language variety which applies a set of specific vocabularies and speech acts. And it also defines mode, setting, and topic of utterances. The researcher uses descriptive qualitative approach, in which data are collected, categorized, and analysed. The data collection conssists of words, phrases, and clauses on the outdoor media. Specific vocabularies of each candidate occured distinctively. Like the word,” sabar”, “baik”, “agen perubahan”, “Tanjungpinang baru”, are frequently occured by candidate number one. While, the words, “lanjutkan pembangunan”, “laman hati”,” rajut”, and “doa” are applied by candidate number two. The use of commissive acts are effective to deliver aims and intention of candidate, which is proved the candidate who used mostly commissive acts won the election.This research comes to the result that political campaign in Tanjungpinang remains as a register. AbstrakPemilihan kepala daerah (Pilkada) terjadi di seluruh provinsi Indonesia, pada tahun 2018. Tanjungpinang, ibu kota Provinsi Kepulauan Riau juga melakukan pilkada ini. Ada dua pasangan calon yang bersaing dalam meraih suara masyarakat. Para kandidat mengorganisasikan ide, visi, misi, dengan menggunakan media luar ruang, seperti spanduk, baliho, poster, dan perabot jalan. Penelitian ini mencoba mengetahui konstruksi permukaan kalimat pilkada kampanye politik. Penelitian ini adalah penelitian linguistik. Penelitian ini menganalisis penggunaan bahasa dalam tujuan politik dalam hal register. Register adalah variasi bahasa yang menerapkan seperangkat kosakata dan tuturan tertentu. Register juga menjelaskan tentang mode, pengaturan, dan topik ujaran. Peneliti menggunakan pendekatan kualitatif deskriptif, yaitu dengan cara, data dikumpulkan, dikategorikan, dan dianalisis. Pengumpulan data terdiri atas kata-kata, frasa, dan klausa pada media luar ruang. Kosakata spesifik dari masing-masing kandidat muncul secara khusus. Seperti kata, “sabar”, “baik”, “peniti”, “Tanjungpinang baru”, sering terjadi oleh kandidat nomor satu. Sementara, kata-kata, “lanjutkan pembangunan”, “laman hati”, “rajut”, dan “doa” digunakan oleh kandidat nomor dua. Penggunaan tindakan komisif efektif untuk menyampaikan tujuan dan niat kandidat, yang terbukti kandidat yang paling banyak menggunakan tindakan komisif memenangkan pilkada. Hasil dari penelitian ini menunjukkan bahwa kampanye politik di Tanjungpinang tetap sebagai register.Kata kunci: media luar ruang, kampanye politik, dan tindak tutur

Daggers from the Middle AgesOn entering the front door to Moesgård’s 226 year old main building, some of the first objects to meet one’s eyes are two magnificent white mineral cabinets in Louis XVI style. These beautiful cabinets are among the oldest pieces of furniture at Moesgård. They originate from Christian Frederik Güldencrone’s time (1741-88) and contain now – as then – a mineralogical collection (fig. 1). In a lower drawer of one of the cabinets there are, however, two daggers that have nothing to do with this collection and which must have been added on a later occasion.The types of dagger which will be dealt with here are the kidney dagger and the so-called lansquenet dagger mentioned below. They have their origins in the ­Middle Ages and they are, due to their form, closely linked with the military equipment, especially the plate armour, increasingly in vogue during the 14th century. When the dagger became part of the knight’s armament it was in order for it to be used in hand-to-hand fighting. With its strong and rigid blade, the dagger could be pushed between the plates of a fallen knight’s armour, enabling the final and decisive coup de grâce to be given (fig. 2). The military zenith of the dagger was in the 14th-15th centuries.Daggers are often difficult to date. Many have been recovered from bogs and lakes and a great number do not have any associated information about their origin. As a consequence, the typological chrono­logies that have been produced are rather coarse-grained and are mainly based on pictorial sources and collections of historical weapons (fig. 3).One of the daggers is a double-edged kidney dagger, listed as No. 6 in the catalogue (fig. 4). The length of the dagger is 30 cm, of which 10.5 cm comprises the grip and 19.5 cm the blade. The grip is made of root wood, while the blade is of iron. The blade is rather slender, no more than 1.4 cm at its widest. No smith’s stamp or mark is ­visible. Below each kidney, ­traces of a now missing quillon-plate can be seen; this was often curved or wing-shaped. The guard had been attached to the kidneys by way of two sprigs. At the end of the hilt, a knob or boss has been carved out of the root wood and between the boss and hilt runs a bead which is now somewhat effaced. X-­radiography reveals that the dagger has no real tang.The kidney dagger was quite often depicted in medieval times. An illustration in the so-called “Kristina Psalter”, thought to have been produced in Paris about AD 1230, is usually recognised as the oldest image of a kidney dagger. The dagger referred to is, however, very difficult to recognise as a kidney dagger; it is more probably of the high medieval dagger type – the cultellus. More certainty surrounds another rendition of a kidney dagger – that seen on Duke Christopher’s sepulchral monument from the AD 1360s in Roskilde Cathedral. This is usually regarded as Denmark’s oldest, securely dated kidney dagger (fig. 5). Another example to which attention is always drawn is the dagger shown at Valdemar Atterdag’s side on a fresco from about AD 1375 in St Peder’s Church in Næstved (fig. 6). The Moesgård dagger is dated to the period from the last quarter of the 14th century to the end of the 15th century.The kidney dagger has an interesting cultural history, not exclusively involving the art of war. Daggers become part of the rather dandified men’s fashion of the 15th century where the dagger was worn at front, hung on a belt. As can be imagined, it is no longer the kidneys one thinks about when seeing the dagger! This was also clear at the time; in England the dagger was referred to as the ballock dagger and in France dague á couilettes (fig. 7).The other dagger from the Moesgård cabinet is a so-called lansquenet dagger, listed as No. 17 in the catalogue. Like the kidney dagger this is a double-edged weapon (fig. 8). It is reminiscent of a small sword with short, straight or slightly bent quillons. The length of the dagger is 36.5 cm, of which the grip comprises 11 cm and the blade 25.5 cm. At the end of the tang a cone-shaped pommel with spiral grooves can be seen; this feature is repeated in the quillon terminals. Between quillon and tang, and between pommel and tang, narrow bronze casings can be seen – the last remnants of the lost grip. The double-edged blade, which has a maximum width of 2.1 cm, has a very strongly accentuated back; the cross-section between back and blade is almost concave.During the 15th century the composition and structure of armies gradually changed so that, with time, the heavily armoured cavalry were replaced by lighter infantry, armed with spears, swords and halberds. The infantry became more professional and in Germany, in the 15th century, were referred to as mercenaries; it is probably here that this type of dagger originated. There are several types of the so-called lansquenet dagger; variation is seen primarily in the shape and construction of the guard, but also the shape of the grip. Information from better preserved examples of the type, to which the Moesgård dagger belongs, suggests that the missing grip was probably of wood and was baluster-shaped. The sheath for a this type of dagger was often rather special, being made of wood and having a circular or oval cross-section and often several rows of horizontal beading. Some examples are iron-plated and heavy, and could be used as clubs in self-defence. The Moesgård dagger is dated to the 16th century, probably towards the end of the century.One further dagger, or rather the grip from a dagger, will also be dealt with here. This artefact was not, however, found in Dahl’s mineral cabinets but during an excavation alongside Århus Å in 2002. The degraded grip is made from a bovine metatarsal, carved to resemble twisted rope. It is listed in the catalogue as No. 7 (fig. 9). The grip is 10.3 cm long. The bone has been split lengthways and only the hint of one kidney is preserved. The artefact is dated to the latter half of the 15th century. The actual prototype for this piece is to be found among the magnificent daggers with grips fashioned from twisted bars of precious metal. In the earlier literature this type is dated to the 14th century but the ­evidence now indicates that it belongs to the latter half of the 15th century.Is a catalogue of the kidney and so-called lansquenet daggers from the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, which are either kept at museums in the Århus area or were found within Moesgård Museum’s area of archaeological responsibility. The main part of the collection is kept at Den Gamle By in Aarhus, and some of these daggers were previously published by A. Bruhn in 1950. Eighteen kidney and mercenary daggers are catalogued; further to these are six daggers, which cannot be assigned more precisely to type. Seven daggers are of unknown origin. It should be noted that 10 out of the remaining 17 daggers were found either in a lake, watercourse or bog. This significantly high proportion is probably not just due chance but no real investigation has ever been carried out into this phenomenon. Only two of the daggers were found during actual archaeological excavations.Lars Krants LarsenMoesgård Museum

The future of the museumsA lot of people worry on behalf of the museums. Museums are boring and dusty, and no one can be bothered to visit them, the young ones not at all, they want adventure, they want int eractive computer games. In a report published jointly by Elsebeth Gerner Nielsen, minister of cultural affairs, and Pia Gjellerup, then minister of commerce, in December 2000, the two ministers decreed that ”it is necessary for Danish economy that the cultural sector – museums, too – begin to think commercially.” If one asks what it takes, the answer is often: ”make the museum s come alive.” A visit to a museum should be an experience similar to a visit to Legoland or Disneyland. We presently see museum leaders anxious about being left behind by the development and feverishly trying to make their museums come alive. Visitors’ centres spring up like mushrooms in the Danish museum landscape, and the National Museum in Copenhagen recently hosted the Missing Link – alive! exhibition, which illustrated the development of humankind through four million years. Here, showcases contained moving robots, interactive elements where the visitors could measure their strength against the Neanderthal Man, compare hands with some of our supposed ancestors, touch copies of tools, answer questions about the development of man etc. – hardly any original material was presented. It is my belief that the idea shared by politicians and some museums – that re-enactment may attract visitors – is utterly unrealistic and that too much attention is paid to a couple of isolated successes.l am not against people having a good time. However, I do not think this an area for the museums to make themselves seriously felt. Other media deal with history coming alive. Historical plays by Shakespeare, Racine, Johann Friedrich Schiller and August Strindberg have been performed a thousand times. People have cried in torrents over the destiny of Anne Frank, they have shivered to witness the brutal murder on Julius Caesar, and they have breathlessly followed the conflict between Charles V and his son, Don Carlos, the governor of the Netherlands, which is described by Schiller in such a spellbinding fashion. Museums will never be able to create anything similar to this, no matter how much they dress the ticket seller or the museum keepers in medieval clothing, and no matter how many monkey tricks are made in the museum cafés in order to serve medieval food and sour ale.Re-enacting the past is not a museum task. Films, theatre, and literature will do that. Still, this does not mean that there is no room for museums. Because the museums have something no one else has. They have things from the past. Most things by far are lost in the course of time, and so it should be. At least that is how it is. Most furniture is worn out and goes to pieces, and the same fate befalls clothes, glasses, shoes, cars, toys, tractors, packing, calculating machines, ladles, anything. Things are perishable; they disappear due to the ravages of time. Items slip away between our hands, just as the time, and much faster than we think. In most homes only a few things are older than fifty years.So, the museums are treasuries that protect the few remaining items for eternity. Only a single pale yellow wrong-coloured Swedish three-shilling stamp from 1855 exists. It is the world’s most expensive stamp, traded in the 1990s for thirty million Dkr. It is depicted in books on stamps, you see it in newspapers, on the Internet, everywhere, but there is only a single original one. It was sold for a fortune, the rest of the millions of reproductions of it have no price – they are used for wrapping up fish, they are me rely copies. The whole truth, the whole authenticity, the radical certainty that in 1855, a Swedish printer by mistake used a three-shilling pr inting plate while printing yellow eightshilling stamps is held within the pushing presence of the original.The aura of authenticity raises the original items to a class by themselves and makes them incomparable to anything else. The real is the trump card of the museums. The more freewheeling flow of pictures, the more monitors and TV-screens that are put up wherever you turn, the more worthless copies, the more tokens are circulated, the larger is the hunger for real things. The museum is the very place where the flow of copies ends, the place where the neverending maelstrom of reproductions is stopped, in the museums there is peace, here the flicker and the noise and absent-minded clicking of the mouse ends, here the world begins. At a time where the monitor replaces reality, museums may satisfy the hunger for the real thing.The de-realisation of reality, the daily encounter with fleeting pictures of things has created a huge demand for meeting the things in themselves. Museums are a countermeasure against the monitors. The museums safeguard the spaciousness and the plasticity, the tangibly existing against the cold immateriality of cyberspace. The truth is concrete, not abstract. If the museums want it, they have a future.The museums are the owners of a marvellous raw material, which on the other hand gives no guarantee of success; it is merely the prerequisite for success – just as the best theat replay does no t guarantee a successful performance. The good exhibition makes it possible to rediscover direction and meaning in a world tortured by fear of the future. If the museums would trust themselves and open their eyes to the immense treasure of original objects that they have at their disposal and not let themselves be seduced by all the talk of the great narrative being lost and everything being hopeless, then they have a great time ahead of them. I for one am not worried.Thorkild KjærgaardNordborgTranslated by Annette Lerche Trolle

Formulation of strategy marketing of company of including developing business mission, recognizing opportunity, and threat of eksternal company, specifying internal weakness and strength, specifying long-range objectivity, yielding alternative strategy, and chosen certain strategy be achieved.Target of which wish to be reached in this research is : To know strategy marketing of coffee powder stamp gold stork at company of Meubel Cahaya Baru kepahiang.Research type the used is descriptive of analysis. Method data collecting the used is method field of research by; Interview and Observation.Analysis method which is used in this research is method analysis SWOT (Strengths, Opportunities, Weaknesses, and Threats). This Analysis is relied on logic able to maximize strength and opportunity, but concurrently minimization can weakness and threat.

Today’s market and competitive pressure companies to adopt internet-based electronic business (e-business), neverless Small and Medium Enterprises (SME’s). In this study to examines a conceptual model for electronic business adoption based on the technology-organization-environment framework. Survey methode is applied in this research and the sample quantity is 67 SME’s that produce are silk handycraft, terracota handycraft, textile, furniture, Mozaik stone, silver handycraft and batik fashion and this product as icon or jargon product on Yogyakarta. The Technique of sample drawing used is method of purposive sampling with criteria selection are SME’s have export-oriented mission. This research applies statistical technique of simple regression. The conclusion of all the hypoteses proposed are: (1) there are influences technology competence to intens-to adopt e-business; (2) there are influances organization readiness to intens-to adopt e-business; (3)there are no influences consumer readiness to intens-to adopt e-business; (4) there are influences competitive pressure to intens-to adopt e-business and (5) there are no influences lack of trading partner readiness to intens-to adopt e-business.

Abstract Background Indoor pollution is a real threat to human health all over the world. Indoor pollution derives from indoor sources (e.g. smoking, gas stoves, coated furniture) as well as from outdoor sources (e.g. industries, vehicles). Long-term monitoring measurements in indoor environments are missing to a large extent due to a lack of simple to operate measuring devices. Mosses proved well as biomonitors in hundreds of studies. Nevertheless, indoor use has been extremely scarce. Therefore, this study aimed to determine indoor and outdoor pollution by active biomonitoring using moss as well as NO2 samplers to analyse outdoor and indoor levels of pollution. We exposed moss (Pleurozium schreberi) for 8 weeks indoors and outdoors in 20 households in the city of Girona, Spain. Al, Cr, Cu, Zn, Sn, Cd, Pb, Mo, and Sb were analysed by moss-samplers. Additionally, NO2 was measured with Palmes diffusion tubes. Results Compared to the pre-exposure analysis, concentrations of almost all elements both on indoor and outdoor mosses increased. Except for Cd, all metals and NO2 had, on average, higher concentrations in outdoor mosses than at corresponding indoor sites. However, some 20% of the samples showed inverse patterns, thus, indicating both indoor and outdoor sources. Indoor/outdoor correlations of elements were not significant, but highest for markers of traffic-related pollution, such as Sn, Sb, and NO2. The wide range of indoor–outdoor ratios of NO2 exemplified the relevance of indoor sources such as smoking or gas cooking. Though mostly excluded in this study, a few sites had these sources present. Conclusions The study at hand showed that moss exposed at indoor sites could be a promising tool for long-time biomonitoring. However, it had also identified some drawbacks that should be considered in future indoor studies. Increments of pollutants were sometimes really low compared to the initial concentration and therefore not detectable. This fact hampers the investigation of elements with low basic element levels as, e.g. Pt. Therefore, moss with real low basic levels is needed for active monitoring, especially for future studies in indoor monitoring. Cloned material could be a proper material for indoor monitoring yet never was tested for this purpose.

The habitual passenger cannot grasp the folly of traffic based overwhelmingly on transport. His inherited perceptions of space and time and of personal pace have been industrially deformed. He has lost the power to conceive of himself outside the passenger role (Illich 25).The most basic definition of Stillness refers to a state of being in the absence of both motion and disturbance. Some might say it is anti-American. Stillness denies the democratic freedom of mobility in a social system where, as Ivan Illich writes in Energy and Equity, people “believe that political power grows out of the capacity of a transportation system, and in its absence is the result of access to the television screen” (26). In America, it isn’t too far of a stretch to say that most are quite used to being interpolated as some sort of subject of the screen, be it the windshield or the flat screen. Whether in transport or tele-vision, life is full of traffic and flickering images. In the best of times there is a choice between being citizen-audience member or citizen-passenger. A full day might include both.But during the summer of 2008 things seemed to change. The citizen-passenger was left beached, not in some sandy paradise but in their backyard. In this state of SIMBY (stuck in my backyard), the citizen-passenger experienced the energy crisis first hand. Middle class suburbanites were forced to come to terms with a new disturbance due to rising fuel prices: unattainable motion. Domestic travel had been exchanged for domestication. The citizen-passenger was rendered what Paul Virilio might call, “a voyager without a voyage, this passenger without a passage, the ultimate stranger, and renegade to himself” (Crepuscular 131). The threat to capitalism posed by this unattainable motion was quickly thwarted by America’s 'big box' stores, hotel chains, and news networks. What might have become a culturally transformative politics of attainable stillness was hijacked instead by The Great American Staycation. The Staycation is a neologism that refers to the activity of making a vacation out of staying at home. But the Staycation is more than a passing phrase; it is a complex cultural phenomenon that targeted middle class homes during the summer of 2008. A major constraint to a happy Staycation was the uncomfortable fact that the middle class home was not really a desirable destination as it stood. The family home would have to undergo a series of changes, one being the initiation of a set of time management strategies; and the second, the adoption of new objects for consumption. Good Morning America first featured the Staycation as a helpful parenting strategy for what was expected to be a long and arduous summer. GMA defined the parameters of the Staycation with four golden rules in May of 2008:Schedule start and end dates. Otherwise, it runs the risk of feeling just like another string of nights in front of the tube. Take Staycation photos or videos, just as you would if you went away from home on your vacation. Declare a 'choratorium.' That means no chores! Don't make the bed, vacuum, clean out the closets, pull weeds, or nothing, Pack that time with activities. (Leamy)Not only did GMA continue with the theme throughout the summer but the other networks also weighed in. Expert knowledge was doled out and therapeutic interventions were made to make people feel better about staying at home. Online travel companies such as expedia.com and tripadvisor.com, estimated that 60% of regular vacation takers would be staying home. With the rise and fall of gas prices, came the rise of fall of the Staycation.The emergence of the Staycation occurred precisely at a time when American citizens were confronted with the reality that their mobility and localities, including their relationship to domestic space, were structurally bound to larger geopolitical forces. The Staycation was an invention deployed by various interlocutors most threatened by the political possibilities inherent in stillness. The family home was catapulted into the circuits of production, consumption, and exchange. Big TV and Big Box stores furthered individual’s unease towards having to stay at home by discursively constructing the gas prices as an impediment to a happy domestic life and an affront to the American born right to be mobile. What was reinforced was that Americans ideally should be moving, but could not. Yet, at the same time it was rather un-American not to travel. The Staycation was couched in a powerful rhetoric of one’s moral duty to the nation while playing off of middle class anxieties and senses of privilege regarding the right to be mobile and the freedom to consume. The Staycation satiates all of these tensions by insisting that the home can become a somewhere else. Between spring and autumn of 2008, lifestyle experts, representatives from major retailers, and avid Staycationers filled morning slots on ABC, NBC, FOX, CBS, and CNN with Staycation tips. CNN highlighted the Staycation as a “1st Issue” in their Weekend Report on 12 June 2008 (Alban). This lead story centred on a father in South Windsor, Connecticut “who took the money he would normally spend on vacations and created a permanent Staycation residence.” The palatial home was fitted with a basketball court, swimming pool, hot tub, gardening area, and volleyball court. In the same week (and for those without several acres) CBS’s Early Show featured the editor of behindthebuy.com, a company that specialises in informing the “time starved consumer” about new commodities. The lifestyle consultant previewed the newest and most necessary items “so you could get away without leaving home.” Key essentials included a “family-sized” tent replete with an air conditioning unit, a projector TV screen amenable to the outdoors, a high-end snow-cone maker, a small beer keg, a mini-golf kit, and a fast-setting swimming pool that attaches to any garden hose. The segment also extolled the virtues of the Staycation even when gas prices might not be so high, “you have this stuff forever, if you go on vacation all you have are the pictures.” Here, the value of the consumer products outweighs the value of erstwhile experiences that would have to be left to mere recollection.Throughout the summer ABC News’ homepage included links to specific products and profiled hotels, such as Hiltons and Holiday Inns, where families could at least get a few miles away from home (Leamy). USA Today, in an article about retailers and the Staycation, reported that Wal-Mart would be “rolling back prices on everything from mosquito repellent to portable DVD players to baked beans and barbecue sauce”. Target and Kohl’s were celebrated for offering discounts on patio furniture, grills, scented candles, air fresheners and other products to make middle class homes ‘staycationable’. A Lexis Nexis count revealed over 200 news stories in various North American sources, including the New York Times, Financial Times, Investors Guide, the Christian Science Monitor, and various local Consumer Credit Counselling Guides. Staying home was not necessarily an inexpensive option. USA Today reported brand new grills, grilling meats, patio furniture and other accoutrements were still going to cost six percent more than the previous year (24 May 2008). While it was suggested that the Staycation was a cost-saving option, it is clear Staycations were for the well-enough off and would likely cost more or as much as an actual vacation. To put this in context with US vacation policies and practices, a recent report by the Center for Economic and Policy Research called No-Vacation Nation found that the US is the only advanced economy in the world that does not guarantee its workers paid vacation (Ray and Schmidt 3). Subsequently, without government standards 25% of Americans have neither paid vacation nor paid holidays. The Staycation was not for the working poor who were having difficulty even getting to work in the first place, nor were they for the unemployed, recently job-less, or the foreclosed. No, the Staycationers were middle class suburbanites who had backyards and enough acreage for swimming pools and tents. These were people who were going to be ‘stuck’ at home for the first time and a new grill could make that palatable. The Staycation would be exciting enough to include in their vacation history repertoire.All of the families profiled on the major networks were white Americans and in most cases nuclear families. For them, unattainable motion is an affront to the privilege of their white middle class mobility which is usually easy and unencumbered, in comparison to raced mobilities. Doreen Massey’s theory of “power geometry” which argues that different people have differential and inequitable relationships to mobility is relevant here. The lack of racial representation in Staycation stories reinforces the reality that has already been well documented in the works of bell hooks in Black Looks: Race and Representation, Lynn Spigel in Welcome to the Dreamhouse: Popular Media and Postwar Suburbs, and Jeremy Packer in Mobility without Mayhem: Safety, Cars and Citizenship. All of these critical works suggest that taking easily to the great open road is not the experience of all Americans. Freedom of mobility is in fact a great American fiction.The proprietors for the Great American Staycation were finding all sorts of dark corners in the American psyche to extol the virtues of staying at home. The Staycation capitalised on latent xenophobic tendencies of the insular family. Encountering cultural difference along the way could become taxing and an impediment to the fully deserved relaxation that is the stuff of dream vacations. CNN.com ran an article soon after their Weekend Report mentioned above quoting a life coach who argued Staycations were more fitting for many Americans because the “strangeness of different cultures or languages, figuring out foreign currencies or worrying about lost luggage can take a toll” (12 June 2008). The Staycation sustains a culture of insularity, consumption, distraction, and fear, but in doing so serves the national economic interests quite well. Stay at home, shop, grill, watch TV and movies, these were the economic directives programmed by mass media and retail giants. As such it was a cultural phenomenon commensurable to the mundane everyday life of the suburbs.The popular version of the Staycation is a highly managed and purified event that reflects the resort style/compound tourism of ‘Club Meds’ and cruise ships. The Staycation as a new form of domestication bears a significant resemblance to the contemporary spatial formations that Marc Augé refers to as non-places – contemporary forms of homogeneous architecture that are scattered across disparate locales. The nuclear family home becomes another point of transfer in the global circulation of capital, information, and goods. The chain hotels and big box stores that are invested in the Staycation are touted as part of the local economy but instead devalue the local by making it harder for independent restaurants, grocers, farmers’ markets and bed and breakfasts to thrive. In this regard the Staycation excludes the local economy and the community. It includes backyards not balconies, hot-dogs not ‘other’ types of food, and Wal-Mart rather than then a local café or deli. Playing on the American democratic ideals of freedom of mobility and activating one’s identity as a consumer left little room to re-think how life in constant motion (moving capital, moving people, moving information, and moving goods) was partially responsible for the energy crisis in the first place. Instead, staying at home became a way for the American citizen to support the floundering economy while waiting for gas prices to go back down. And, one wouldn’t have to look that much further to see that the Staycation slips discursively into a renewed mission for a just cause – the environment. For example, ABC launched at the end of the summer a ruse of a national holiday, “National Stay at Home Week” with the tag line: “With gas prices so high, the economy taking a nosedive and global warming, it's just better to stay in and enjoy great ABC TV.” It comes as no shock that none of the major networks covered this as an environmental issue or an important moment for transformation. In fact, the air conditioning units in backyard tents attest to quite the opposite. Instead, the overwhelming sense was of a nation waiting at home for it all to be over. Soon real life would resume and everyone could get moving again. The economic slowdown and the energy crisis are examples of the breakdown and failure of capitalism. In a sense, a potential opened up in this breakdown for Stillness to become an alternative to life in constant and unrequited motion. That is, for the practice of non-movement and non-circulation to take on new political and cultural forms especially in the sprawling suburbs where the car moves individuals between the trifecta of home, box store, and work. The economic crisis is also a temporary stoppage of the flows. If the individual couldn’t move, global corporate capital would find a way to set the house in motion, to reinsert it back into the machinery that is now almost fully equated with freedom.The reinvention of the home into a campground or drive-in theatre makes the house a moving entity, an inverted mobile home that is both sedentary and in motion. Paul Virilio’s concept of “polar inertia” is important here. He argues, since the advent of transportation individuals live in a state of “resident polar inertia” wherein “people don’t move, even when they’re in a high speed train. They don’t move when they travel in their jet. They are residents in absolute motion” (Crepuscular 71). Lynn Spigel has written extensively about these dynamics, including the home as mobile home, in Make Room for TV and Welcome to the Dreamhouse. She examines how the introduction of the television into domestic space is worked through the tension between the private space of the home and the public world outside. Spigel refers to the dual emergence of portable television and mobile homes. Her work shows how domestic space is constantly imagined and longed for “as a vehicle of transport through which they (families) could imaginatively travel to an illicit place of passion while remaining in the safe space of the family home” (Welcome 60-61). But similarly to what Virilio has inferred Spigel points out that these mobile homes stayed parked and the portable TVs were often stationary as well. The Staycation exists as an addendum to what Spigel captures about the relationship between domestic space and the television set. It provides another example of advertisers’ attempts to play off the suburban tension between domestic space and the world “out there.” The Staycation exacerbates the role of the domestic space as a site of production, distribution, and consumption. The gendered dynamics of the Staycation include redecorating possibilities targeted at women and the backyard beer and grill culture aimed at men. In fact, ‘Mom’ might suffer the most during a Staycation, but that is another topic. The point is the whole family can get involved in a way that sustains the configurations of power but with an element of novelty.The Staycation is both a cultural phenomenon that feeds off the cultural anxieties of the middle class and an economic directive. It has been constructed to maintain movement at a time when the crisis of capital contains seeds for an alternative, for Stillness to become politically and culturally transformative. But life feels dull when the passenger is stuck and the virtues of Stillness are quite difficult to locate in this cultural context. As Illich argues, “the passenger who agrees to live in a world monopolised by transport becomes a harassed, overburdened consumer of distances whose shape and length he can no longer control” (45). When the passenger is the mode of identification, immobility becomes unbearable. In this context a form of “still mobility” such as the Staycation might be satisfying enough. ConclusionThe still citizen is a threatening figure for capital. In Politics of the Very Worst Virilio argues at the heart of capitalism is a state of permanent mobility, a condition to which polar inertia attests. The Staycation fits completely within this context of this form of mobile immobility. The flow needs to keep flowing. When people are stationary, still, and calm the market suffers. It has often been argued that the advertising industries construct dissatisfaction while also marginally eliminating it through the promises of various products, yet ultimately leaving the individual in a constant state of almost satisfied but never really. The fact that the Staycation is a mode of waiting attests to this complacent dissatisfaction.The subjective and experiential dimensions of living in a capitalist society are experienced through one’s relationship to time and staying on the right path. The economic slowdown and the energy crisis are also crises in pace, energy, and time. The mobility and tempo, the pace and path that capital relies on, has become unhinged and vulnerable to a resistant re-shaping. The Staycation re-sets the tempo of suburbia to meet the new needs of an economic slowdown and financial crisis. Following the directive to staycate is not necessarily a new form of false consciousness, but an intensified technological and economic mode of subjection that depends on already established cultural anxieties. But what makes the Staycation unique and worthy of consideration is that capitalists and other disciplinary institutions of power, in this case big media, construct new and innovative ways to control people’s time and regulate their movement in space. The Staycation is a particular re-territorialisation of the temporal and spatial dimensions of home, work, and leisure. In sum, Staycation and the staging of National Stay at Home Week reveals a systemic mobilising and control of a population’s pace and path. As Bernard Stiegler writes in Technics and Time: “Deceleration remains a figure of speed, just as immobility is a figure of movement” (133). These processes are inexorably tied to one another. Thinking back to the opening quote from Illich, we could ask how we might stop imagining ourselves as passengers – ushered along, falling in line, or complacently floating past. To be still in the flows could be a form of ultimate resistance. In fact, Stillness has the possibility of becoming an autonomous practice of refusal. It is after all this threatening potentiality that created the frenzied invention of the Staycation in the first place. To end where I began, Illich states that “the habitual passenger must adopt a new set of beliefs and expectations if he is to feel secure in the strange world” (25-26). The horizon of political possibility is uniformly limited for the passenger. Whether people actually did follow these directives during the summer of 2008 is hard to determine. The point is that the energy crisis and economic slowdown offered a potential to vacate capital’s premises, both its pace and path. But corporate capital is doing its best to make sure that people wait, staycate, and see it through. The Staycation is not just about staying at home for vacation. It is about staying within reach, being accounted for, at a time when departing global corporate capital seems to be the best option. ReferencesAlban, Debra. “Staycations: Alternative to Pricey, Stressful Travel.” CNN News 12 June 2008. 6 Mar. 2009 ‹http://edition.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/worklife/06/12/balance.staycation/index.html›.Augé, Marc. Non-Places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity. Verso, London, 1995.hooks, bell. Black Looks: Race and Representation. Boston: South End Press, 1992.Illich, Ivan. Energy and Equity. New York: Perennial Library, 1974.Leamy, Elisabeth. “Tips for Planning a Great 'Staycation'.” ABC News 23 May 2008. 6 Mar. 2009 ‹http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Parenting/story?id=4919211›.Massey, Doreen. Space, Place, and Gender. Minneapolis: Minnesota U P, 1994.Packer, Jeremy. Mobility without Mayhem: Safety, Cars, and Citizenship. Durham, NC: Duke U P, 2008.Ray, Rebecca and John Schmitt. No-Vacation Nation. Washington, D.C.: Center for Economic and Policy Research, May 2007.Spigel, Lynn. Make Room for TV: Television and the Family Ideal in Postwar America. Chicago: Chicago U P, 1992.———. Welcome to the Dreamhouse: Popular Media and Postwar Suburbs. Durham, NC: Duke U P, 2001.Stiegler, Bernard. Technics and Time 2: Disorientation. Trans. Stephen Barker. California: Stanford University Press, 2009.USA Today. “Retailers Promote 'Staycation' Sales.” 24 May 2008. 6 Mar. 2009 ‹http://www.usatoday.com/money/industries/retail/2008-05-24-staycations_N.htm›.Virilio, Paul. Speed and Politics. Trans. Mark Polizzotti. New York: Semiotext(e), 1986.———. In James der Derian, ed. The Virilio Reader. Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 1998.———. Politics of the Very Worst. New York: Semiotext(e), 1999.———. Crepuscular Dawn. New York: Semiotext(e), 2002.

Saturday, 24 July 1971, Tower Mill Hotel The man jiggles the brick, gauges its weight. His stout hand, a flash of his watch dial, the sleeve rolled back, muscles on the upper arm bundled tight. His face half-erased by the dark. There’s something going on beneath the surface that Murray can’t grasp. He thinks of the three witches in Polanski’s Macbeth, huddled together on the beach, digging a circle in the sand with bare hands, unwrapping their filthy bundle. A ritual. The brick’s in the air and it’s funny but Murray expected it to spin but it doesn’t, it holds its position, arcs forward, as though someone’s taken the sky and pulled it sideways to give the impression of movement, like those chase scenes in the Punch and Judy shows you don’t see anymore. The brick hits the cement and fractures. Red dust on cops’ shined shoes. Murray feels the same sense of shock he’d felt, sitting in the sagging canvas seat at one of his film nights, recognising the witches’ bundle, a severed human arm, hacked off just before the elbow; both times looking so intently, he had no distance or defence when the realisation came. ‘What is it?’ says Lan. Murray points to the man who threw the brick but she is looking the other way, at a cop in a white riot helmet, head like a globe, swollen up as though bitten. Lan stands on Murray’s feet to see. The pig yells through a megaphone: ‘You’re occupying too much of the road. It’s illegal. Step back. Step back.’ Lan’s back is pressed against Murray’s stomach; her bum fits snugly to his groin. He resists the urge to plant his cold hands on her warm stomach, to watch her squirm. She turns her head so her mouth is next to his ear, says, ‘Don’t move.’ She sounds winded, her voice without force. He’s pinned to the ground by her feet. Again, ‘Step back. Step back.’ Next to him, Roger begins a chant. ‘Springboks,’ he yells, the rest of the crowd picking up the chant, ‘out now!’ ‘Springboks!’ ‘Out now!’ Murray looks up, sees a hand pressed against the glass in one of the hotel’s windows, quickly withdrawn. The hand belongs to a white man, for sure. It must be one of the footballers, although the gesture is out of keeping with his image of them. Too timid. He feels tired all of a sudden. But Jacobus Johannes Fouché’s voice is in his head, these men—the Springboks—represent the South African way of life, and the thought of the bastard Bjelke inviting them here. He, Roger and Lan were there the day before when the footballers pulled up outside the Tower Mill Hotel in a black and white bus. ‘Can you believe the cheek of those bastards?’ said Roger when they saw them bounding off the bus, legs the span of Murray’s two hands. A group of five Nazis had been lined up in front of the glass doors reflecting the city, all in uniform: five sets of white shirts and thin black ties, five sets of khaki pants and storm-trooper boots, each with a red sash printed with a black and white swastika tied around their left arms, just above the elbow. The Springboks strode inside, ignoring the Nazi’s salute. The protestors were shouting. An apple splattered wetly on the sidewalk. Friday, 7 April 1972, St Lucia Lan left in broad daylight. Murray didn’t know why this upset him, except that he had a vague sense that she should’ve gone in the night time, under the cover of dark. The guilty should sneak away, with bowed heads and faces averted, not boldly, as though going for an afternoon walk. Lan had pulled down half his jumpers getting the suitcase from the top of the cupboard. She left his clothes scattered across the bedroom, victims of an explosion, an excess of emotion. In the two days after Lan left, Murray scours the house looking for some clue to where she was, maybe a note to him, blown off the table in the wind, or put down and forgotten in the rush. Perhaps there was a letter from her parents, bankrupt, demanding she return to Vietnam. Or a relative had died. A cousin in the Viet Cong napalmed. He finds a packet of her tampons in the bathroom cupboard, tries to flush them down the toilet, but they keep floating back up. They bloat; the knotted strings make them look like some strange water-dwelling creature, paddling in the bowl. He pees in the shower for a while, but in the end he scoops the tampons back out again with the holder for the toilet brush. The house doesn’t yield anything, so he takes to the garden, circles the place, investigates its underbelly. The previous tenant had laid squares of green carpet underneath, off-cuts that met in jagged lines, patches of dirt visible. Murray had set up two sofas, mouldy with age, on the carpeted part, would invite his friends to sit with him there, booze, discuss the state of the world and the problem with America. Roger rings in the afternoon, says, ‘What gives? We were supposed to have lunch.’ Murray says, ‘Lan’s left me.’ He knows he will cry soon. ‘Oh Christ. I’m so sorry,’ says Roger. Murray inhales, snuffs up snot. Roger coughs into the receiver. ‘It was just out of the blue,’ says Murray. ‘Where’s she gone?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘She didn’t say anything?’ ‘No,’ says Murray. ‘She could be anywhere. Maybe you should call the police, put in a missing report,’ says Roger. ‘I’m not too friendly with the cops,’ says Murray, and coughs. ‘You sound a bit crook. I’ll come over,’ says Roger. ‘That’d be good,’ says Murray. Roger turns up at the house an hour later, wearing wide pants and a tight collared shirt with thick white and red stripes. He’s growing a moustache, only cuts his hair when he visits his parents. Murray says, ‘I’ll make us a cuppa.’ Roger nods, sits down at the vinyl table with his hands resting on his knees. He says, ‘Are you coming to 291 on Sunday?’ 291 St Paul’s Terrace is the Brisbane Communist Party’s headquarters. Murray says, ‘What’s on?’ ‘Billy needs someone to look after the bookshop.’ Murray gives Roger a mug of tea, sits down with his own mug between his elbows, and cradles his head in his hands so his hair falls over his wrists. After a minute, Roger says, ‘Does her family know?’ Murray makes a strange noise through his hands. ‘I don’t even know how to contact them,’ he says. ‘She wrote them letters—couldn’t afford to phone—but she’s taken everything with her. The address book. Everything.’ Murray knows nothing of the specifics of Lan’s life before she met him. She was the first Asian he’d ever spoken to. She wore wrap-around skirts that changed colour in the sun; grew her hair below the waist; sat in the front row in class and never spoke. He liked the shape of her calf as it emerged from her skirt. He saw her on the great lawn filming her reflection in a window with a Sony Portapak and knew that he wanted her more than anything. Murray seduced her by saying almost nothing and touching her as often as he could. He was worried about offending her. What reading he had done made him aware of his own ignorance, and his friend in Psych told him that when you touch a girl enough — especially around the aureole — a hormone is released that bonds them to you, makes them sad when you leave them or they leave you. In conversation, Murray would put his hand on Lan’s elbow, once on the top of her head. Lan was ready to be seduced. Murray invited her to a winter party in his backyard. They kissed next to the fire and he didn’t notice until the next morning that the rubber on the bottom of his shoe melted in the flames. She moved into his house quickly, her clothes bundled in three plastic bags. He wanted her to stay in bed with him all day, imagined he was John Lennon and she Yoko Ono. Their mattress became a soup of discarded clothes, bread crumbs, wine stains, come stains, ash and flakes of pot. He resented her when she told him that she was bored, and left him, sheets pulled aside to reveal his erection, to go to class. Lan tutored high-schoolers for a while, but they complained to their mothers that they couldn’t understand her accent. She told him her parents wanted her to come home. The next night he tidied the house, and cooked her dinner. Over the green peas and potato—Lan grated ginger over hers, mixed it with chili and soy sauce, which she travelled all the way to Chinatown on a bus to buy—Murray proposed. They were married in the botanic gardens, surrounded by Murray’s friends. The night before his father called him up and said, ‘It’s not too late to get out of it. You won’t be betraying the cause.’ Murray said, ‘You have no idea what this means to me,’ and hung up on him. Sunday, 9 April 1972, 291 St Paul’s Terrace Murray perches on the backless stool behind the counter in The People’s Bookshop. He has the sense he is on the brink of something. His body is ready for movement. When a man walks into the shop, Murray panics because Billy hadn’t shown him how to use the cash register. He says, ‘Can I help?’ anyway. ‘No,’ says the man. The man walks the length of the shelves too fast to read the titles. He stops at a display of Australiana on a tiered shelf, slides his hand down the covers on display. He pauses at Crocodile Hunt. The cover shows a drawing of a bulky crocodile, scaled body bent in an S, its jaws under the man’s thumb. He picks it up, examines it. Murray thinks it odd that he doesn’t flip it over to read the blurb. He walks around the whole room once, scanning the shelves, reaches Murray at the counter and puts the book down between them. Murray picks it up, turns it over, looking for a price. It’s stuck on the back in faded ink. He opens his mouth to tell the man how much, and finds him staring intently at the ceiling. Murray looks up too. A hairline crack runs along the surface and there are bulges in the plaster where the wooden framework’s swollen. It’s lower than Murray remembers. He thinks that if he stood on his toes he could reach it with the tips of his fingers. Murray looks down again to find the man staring at him. Caught out, Murray mutters the price, says, ‘You don’t have it in exact change, do you?’ The man nods, fumbles around in his pocket for a bit and brings out a note, which he lays at an angle along the bench top. He counts the coins in the palm of his hand. He makes a fist around the coins, brings his hand over the note and lets go. The coins fall, clinking, over the bench. One spins wildly, rolls past Murray’s arm and across the bench. Murray lets it fall. He recognises the man now; it is the act of release that triggers the memory, the fingers spread wide, the wrist bent, the black watch band. This is the man who threw the brick in the Springbok protest. Dead set. He looks up again, expecting to see the same sense of recognition in the man, but he is walking out of the shop. Murray follows him outside, leaving the door open and the money still on the counter. The man is walking right along St Paul’s Terrace. He tucks the book under his arm to cross Barry Parade, as though he might need both hands free to wave off the oncoming traffic. Murray stands on the other side of the road, unsure of what to do. When Murray came outside, he’d planned to hail the man, tell him he recognised him from the strike and was a fellow comrade. They give discounts to Communist Party members. Outside the shop, it strikes him that perhaps the man is not one of them at all. Just because he was at the march doesn’t make him a communist. Despite the unpopularity of the cause —‘It’s just fucking football,’ one of Murray’s friends had said. ‘What’s it got to do with anything?’— there had been many types there, a mixture of labour party members; unionists; people in the Radical Club and the Eureka Youth League; those not particularly attached to anyone. He remembers again the brick shattered on the ground. It hadn’t hit anyone, but was an incitement to violence. This man is dangerous. Murray is filled again with nervous energy, which leaves him both dull-witted and super-charged, as though he is a wind-up toy twisted tight and then released, unable to do anything but move in the direction he’s facing. He crosses the road about five metres behind the man, sticks to the outer edge of the pavement, head down. If he moves his eyes upwards, while still keeping his neck lowered, he can see the shoes of the man, his white socks flashing with each step. The man turns the corner into Brunswick Street. He stops at a car parked in front of the old Masonic Temple. Murray walks past fast, unsure of what to do next. The Temple’s entry is set back in the building, four steps leading up to a red door. Murray ducks inside the alcove, looks up to see the man sitting in the driver’s seat pulling out the pages of Crocodile Hunt and feeding them through the half wound-down window where they land, fanned out, on the road. When he’s finished dismembering the book, the man spreads the page-less cover across the back of the car. The crocodile, snout on the side, one eye turned outwards, stares out into the street. The man flicks the ignition and drives, the pages flying out and onto the road in his wake. Murray sits down on the steps of the guild and smokes. He isn’t exactly sure what just happened. The man must have bought the book just because he liked the picture on the front of the cover. But it’s odd though that he had bothered to spend so much just for one picture. Murray remembers how he had paced the shop and studiously examined the ceiling. He’d given the impression of someone picking out furniture for the room, working out the dimensions so some chair or table would fit. A cough. Murray looks up. The man’s standing above him, his forearm resting on the wall, elbow bent. His other arm hangs at his side, hand bunched up around a bundle of keys. ‘I wouldn’t of bothered following me, if I was you,’ the man says. ‘The police are on my side. Special branch are on my side.’ He pushes himself off the wall, stands up straight, and says, ‘Heil Hitler.’ Tuesday April 19, 1972, 291 St Paul’s Terrace Murray brings his curled fist down on the door. It opens with the force of his knock and he feels like an idiot for even bothering. The hallway’s dark. Murray runs into a filing cabinet, swears, and stands in the centre of the corridor, with his hand still on the cabinet, calling, ‘Roger! Roger!’ Murray told Roger he’d come here when he called him. Murray was walking back from uni, and on the other side of the road to his house, ready to cross, he saw there was someone standing underneath the house, looking out into the street. Murray didn’t stop. He didn’t need to. He knew it was the man from the bookshop, the Nazi. Murray kept walking until he reached the end of the street, turned the corner and then ran. Back on campus, he shut himself in a phone box and dialed Roger’s number. ‘I can’t get to my house,’ Murray said when Roger picked up. ‘Lock yourself out, did you?’ said Roger. ‘You know that Nazi? He’s back again.’ ‘I don’t get it,’ said Roger. ‘It doesn’t matter. I need to stay with you,’ said Murray. ‘You can’t. I’m going to a party meeting.’ ‘I’ll meet you there.’ ‘Ok. If you want.’ Roger hung up. Now, Roger stands framed in the doorway of the meeting room. ‘Hey Murray, shut up. I can hear you. Get in here.’ Roger switches on the hallway light and Murray walks into the meeting room. There are about seven people, sitting on hard metal chairs around a long table. Murray sits next to Roger, nods to Patsy, who has nice breasts but is married. Vince says, ‘Hi, Murray, we’re talking about the moratorium on Friday.’ ‘You should bring your pretty little Vietnamese girl,’ says Billy. ‘She’s not around anymore,’ says Roger. ‘That’s a shame,’ says Patsy. ‘Yeah,’ says Murray. ‘Helen Dashwood told me her school has banned them from wearing moratorium badges,’ says Billy. ‘Far out,’ says Patsy. ‘We should get her to speak at the rally,’ says Stella, taking notes, and then, looking up, says, ‘Can anyone smell burning?’ Murray sniffs, says ‘I’ll go look.’ They all follow him down the hall. Patsy says, behind him, ‘Is it coming from the kitchen?’ Roger says, ‘No,’ and then the windows around them shatter. Next to Murray, a filing cabinet buckles and twists like wet cardboard in the rain. A door is blown off its hinges. Murray feels a moment of great confusion, a sense that things are sliding away from him spectacularly. He’s felt this once before. He wanted Lan to sit down with him, but she said she didn’t want to be touched. He’d pulled her to him, playfully, a joke, but he was too hard and she went limp in his hands. Like she’d been expecting it. Her head hit the table in front of him with a sharp, quick crack. He didn’t understand what happened; he had never experienced violence this close. He imagined her brain as a line drawing with the different sections coloured in, like his Psych friend had once showed him, except squashed in at the bottom. She had recovered, of course, opened her eyes a second later to him gasping. He remembered saying, ‘I just want to hold you. Why do you always do this to me?’ and even to him it hadn’t made sense because he was the one doing it to her. Afterwards, Murray had felt hungry, but couldn’t think of anything that he’d wanted to eat. He sliced an apple in half, traced the star of seeds with his finger, then decided he didn’t want it. He left it, already turning brown, on the kitchen bench. Author’s Note No one was killed in the April 19 explosion, nor did the roof fall in. The bookstore, kitchen and press on the first floor of 291 took the force of the blast (Evans and Ferrier). The same night, a man called The Courier Mail (1) saying he was a member of a right wing group and had just bombed the Brisbane Communist Party Headquarters. He threatened to bomb more on Friday if members attended the anti-Vietnam war moratorium that day. He ended his conversation with ‘Heil Hitler.’ Gary Mangan, a known Nazi party member, later confessed to the bombing. He was taken to court, but the Judge ruled that the body of evidence was inadmissible, citing a legal technicality. Mangan was not charged.Ian Curr, in his article, Radical Books in Brisbane, publishes an image of the Communist party quarters in Brisbane. The image, entitled ‘After the Bomb, April 19 1972,’ shows detectives interviewing those who were in the building at the time. One man, with his back to the camera, is unidentified. I imagined this unknown man, in thongs with the long hair, to be Murray. It is in these gaps in historical knowledge that the writer of fiction is free to imagine. References “Bomb in the Valley, Then City Shots.” The Courier Mail 20 Apr. 1972: 1. Curr, Ian. Radical Books in Brisbane. 2008. 24 Jun. 2011 < http://workersbushtelegraph.com.au/2008/07/18/radical-books-in-brisbane/ >. Evans, Raymond, and Carole Ferrier. Radical Brisbane: An Unruly History. Brisbane: Vulgar Press, 2004.

This article is about refugees’ and migrants’ dreams of home and family and stems from an Australian Research Council Linkage Grant, “A Hand Up: Disrupting the Communication of Intergenerational Welfare Dependency” (LP140100935), with Partner Organisation St Vincent de Paul Society (WA) Inc. (Vinnies). A Vinnies-supported refugee and migrant support centre was chosen as one of the hubs for interviewee recruitment, given that many refugee families experience persistent and chronic economic disadvantage. The de-identified name for the drop-in language-teaching and learning social facility is the Migrant and Refugee Homebase (MARH). At the time of the research, in 2018, refugee and forced migrant families from Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan constituted MARH’s primary membership base. MARH provided English language classes alongside other educational and financial support. It could also organise provision of emergency food and was a conduit for furniture donated by Australian families. Crucially, MARH operated as a space in which members could come together to build shared community.As part of her role, the researcher was introduced to Sara (de-identified), a mother-tongue Arabic speaker and the centre’s coordinator. Sara had personal experience of being a refugee, as well as being MARH’s manager, and she became both a point of contact for the researcher team, an interpreter/translator, and an empathetic listener as refugees shared their stories. Dreams of home and family emerged throughout the interviews as a vital part of participants’ everyday lives. These dreams and hopes were developed in the face of what was, for some, a nightmare of adversity. Underpinning participants’ sense of agency, subjectivity and resilience, Badiou argues (93, as noted in Jackson, 241) that hope can appear as a basic form of patience or perseverance rather than a dream for justice. Instead of imagining an improvement in personal circumstances, the dream is one of simply moving forward rather than backward. While dreams of being reunited with family are rooted in the past and project a vision of a family which no longer exists, these dreams help fashion a future which once again contains a range of possibilities.Although Sara volunteered her time on the research project as part of her commitment to Vinnies, she was well-known to interviewees as a MARH staff member and, in many cases, a friend and confidante. While Sara’s manager role implies an imbalance of power, with Sara powerful and participants comparatively less so, the majority of the information explored in the interviews pertained to refugees’ experiences of life outside the sphere in which MARH is engaged, so there was limited risk of the data being sanitised to reflect positively upon MARH. The specialist information and understandings that the interviewees shared positions them as experts, and as co-creators of knowledge.Recruitment and Methodological ApproachThe project researcher (Jaunzems) met potential contributors at MARH when its members gathered for a coffee morning. With Sara’s assistance, the researcher invited MARH members to take part in the research project, giving those present the opportunity to ask and have answered any questions they deemed important. Coffee morning attendees were under no obligation to take part, and about half chose not to do so, while the remainder volunteered to participate. Sara scheduled the interviews at times to suit the families participating. A parent and child from each volunteer family was interviewed, separately. In all cases it was the mother who volunteered to take part, and all interviewees chose to be interviewed in their homes. Each set of interviews was digitally recorded and lasted no longer than 90 minutes. This article includes extracts from interviews with three mothers from refugee families who escaped war-torn homelands for a new life in Australia, sometimes via interim refugee camps.The project researcher conducted the in-depth interviews with Sara’s crucial interpreting/translating assistance. The interviews followed a traditional approach, except that the researcher deferred to Sara as being more important in the interview exchange than she was. This reflects the premise that meaning is socially constructed, and that what people do and say makes visible the meanings that underpin their actions and statements within a wider social context (Burr). Conceptualising knowledge as socially constructed privileges the role of the decoder in receiving, understanding and communicating such knowledge (Crotty). Respecting the role of the interpreter/translator signified to the participants that their views, opinions and their overall cultural context were valued.Once complete, the interviews were sent for translation and transcription by a trusted bi-lingual transcriber, where both the English and Arabic exchanges were transcribed. This was deemed essential by the researchers, to ensure both the authenticity of the data collected and to demonstrate “trust, understanding, respect, and a caring connection” (Valibhoy, Kaplan, and Szwarc, 23) with the participants. Upon completion of the interviews with volunteer members of the MARH community, and at the beginning of the analysis phase, researchers recognised the need for the adoption of an interpretive framework. The interpretive approach seeks to understand an individual’s view of the world through the contexts of time, place and culture. The knowledge produced is contextualised and differs from one person to another as a result of individual subjectivities such as age, race and ethnicity, even within a shared social context (Guba and Lincoln). Accordingly, a mother-tongue Arabic speaker, who identifies as a refugee (Al-Hameed), was added to the project. All authors were involved in writing up the article while authors two, three and four took responsibility for transcript coding and analysis. In the transcripts that follow, words originally spoken in Arabic are in intalics, with non-italcised words originally spoken in English.Discrimination and BelongingAya initially fled from her home in Syria into neighbouring Jordan. She didn’t feel welcomed or supported there.[00:55:06] Aya: …in Jordan, refugees didn’t have rights, and the Jordanian schools refused to teach them [the children…] We were put aside.[00:55:49] Interpreter, Sara (to Researcher): And then she said they push us aside like you’re a zero on the left, yeah this is unfortunately the reality of our countries, I want to cry now.[00:56:10] Aya: You’re not allowed to cry because we’ll all cry.Some refugees and migrant communities suffer discrimination based on their ethnicity and perceived legitimacy as members of the host society. Although Australian refugees may have had searing experiences prior to their acceptance by Australia, migrant community members in Australia can also feel themselves “constructed in the public and political spheres as less legitimately Australian than others” (Green and Aly). Jackson argues that both refugees and migrants experiencethe impossibility of ever bridging the gap between one’s natal ties to the place one left because life was insupportable there, and the demands of the nation to which one has travelled, legally or illegally, in search of a better life. And this tension between belonging and not belonging, between a place where one has rights and a place where one does not, implies an unresolved relationship between one’s natural identity as a human being and one’s social identity as ‘undocumented migrant,’ a ‘resident alien,’ an ‘ethnic minority,’ or ‘the wretched of the earth,’ whose plight remains a stigma of radical alterity even though it inspires our compassion and moves us to political action. (223)The tension Jackson refers to, where the migrant is haunted by belonging and not belonging, is an area of much research focus. Moreover, the label of “asylum seeker” can contribute to systemic “exclusion of a marginalised and abject group of people, precisely by employing a term that emphasises the suspended recognition of a community” (Nyers). Unsurprisingly, many refugees in Australia long for the connectedness of the lives they left behind relocated in the safe spaces where they live now.Eades focuses on an emic approach to understanding refugee/migrant distress, or trauma, which seeks to incorporate the worldview of the people in distress: essentially replicating the interpretive perspective taken in the research. This emic framing is adopted in place of the etic approach that seeks to understand the distress through a Western biomedical lens that is positioned outside the social/cultural system in which the distress is taking place. Eades argues: “developing an emic approach is to engage in intercultural dialogue, raise dilemmas, test assumptions, document hopes and beliefs and explore their implications”. Furthermore, Eades sees the challenge for service providers working with refugee/migrants in distress as being able to move beyond “harm minimisation” models of care “to recognition of a facilitative, productive community of people who are in a transitional phase between homelands”. This opens the door for studies concerning the notions of attachment to place and its links to resilience and a refugee’s ability to “settle in” (for example, Myers’s ground-breaking place-making work in Plymouth).Resilient PrecariousnessChaima: We feel […] good here, we’re safe, but when we sit together, we remember what we went through how my kids screamed when the bombs came, and we went out in the car. My son was 12 and I was pregnant, every time I remember it, I go back.Alongside the dreams that migrants have possible futures are the nightmares that threaten to destabilise their daily lives. As per the work of Xavier and Rosaldo, post-migration social life is recreated in two ways: the first through participation and presence in localised events; the second by developing relationships with absent others (family and friends) across the globe through media. These relationships, both distanced and at a distance, are dispersed through time and space. In light of this, Campays and Said suggest that places of past experiences and rituals for meaning are commonly recreated or reproduced as new places of attachment abroad; similarly, other recollections and experience can trigger a sense of fragility when “we remember what we went through”. Gupta and Ferguson suggest that resilience is defined by the migrant/refugee capacity to “reimagine and re-materialise” their lost heritage in their new home. This involves a sense of connection to the good things in the past, while leaving the bad things behind.Resilience has also been linked to the migrant’s/refugee’s capacity “to manage their responses to adverse circumstances in an interpersonal community through the networks of relationships” (Eades). Resilience in this case is seen through an intersubjective lens. Joseph reminds us that there is danger in romanticising community. Local communities may not only be hostile toward different national and ethnic groups, they may actively display a level of hostility toward them (Boswell). However, Gill maintains that “the reciprocal relations found in communities are crucially important to their [migrant/refugee] well-being”. This is because inclusion in a given community allows migrants/refugees to shrug off the outsider label, and the feeling of being at risk, and provides the opportunity for them to become known as families and friends. One of MAHR’s central aims was to help bridge the cultural divide between MARH users and the broader Australian community.Hope[01:06: 10] Sara (to interviewee, Aya): What’s the key to your success here in Australia?[01:06:12] Aya: The people, and how they treat us.[01:06:15] Sara (to Researcher): People and how they deal with us.[01:06:21] Aya: It’s the best thing when you look around, and see people who don’t understand your language but they help you.[01:06:28] Sara (to Researcher): She said – this is nice. I want to cry also. She said the best thing when I see people, they don’t understand your language, and I don’t understand theirs but they still smile in your face.[01:06:43] Aya: It’s the best.[01:06:45] Sara (to Aya): yes, yes, people here are angels. This is the best thing about Australia.Here, Sara is possibly shown to be taking liberties with the translation offered to the researcher, talking about how Australians “smile in your face”, when (according to the translator) Aya talked about how Australians “help”. Even so, the capacity for social connection and other aspects of sociality have been linked to a person’s ability to turn a negative experience into a positive cultural resource (Wilson). Resilience is understood in these cases as a strength-based practice where families, communities and individuals are viewed in terms of their capabilities and possibilities, instead of their deficiencies or disorders (Graybeal and Saleeby in Eades). According to Fozdar and Torezani, there is an “apparent paradox between high-levels of discrimination experienced by humanitarian migrants to Australia in the labour market and everyday life” (30) on the one hand, and their reporting of positive well-being on the other. That disparity includes accounts such as the one offered by Aya.As Wilson and Arvanitakis suggest,the interaction between negative experiences of discrimination and reports of wellbeing suggested a counter-intuitive propensity among refugees to adapt to and make sense of their migration experiences in unique, resourceful and life-affirming ways. Such response patterns among refugees and trauma survivors indicate a similar resilience-related capacity to positively interpret and derive meaning from negative migration experiences and associated emotions. … However, resilience is not expressed or employed uniformly among individuals or communities. Some respond in a resilient manner, while others collapse. On this point, an argument could be made that collapse and breakdown is a built-in aspect of resilience, and necessary for renewal and ongoing growth.Using this approach, Wilson and Arvanitakis have linked resilience to hope, as a “present- and future-oriented mode of situated defence against adversity”. They argue that the term “hope” is often utilised in a tokenistic way “as a strategic instrument in increasingly empty domestic and international political vocabularies”. Nonetheless, Wilson and Arvanitakis believe hope to be of vital academic interest due to the prevalence of war and suffering throughout the world. In the research reported here, the authors found that participants’ hopes were interwoven with dreams of being reunited with their families in a place of safety. This is a common longing. As Jackson states,so it is that migrants travel abroad in pursuit of utopia, but having found that place, which is also no-place (ou-topos), they are haunted by the thought that utopia actually lies in the past. It is the family they left behind. That is where they properly belong. Though the family broke up long ago and is now scattered to the four winds, they imagine a reunion in which they are together again. (223)There is a sense here that with their hopes and dreams lying in the past, refugees/migrants are living forward while looking backwards (a Kierkegaardian concept). If hope is thought to be key to resilience (Wilson and Arvanitakis), and key to an individual’s ability to live with a sense of well-being, then perhaps a refugee’s past relations (familial) impact both their present relations (social/community), and their ability to transform negative experiences into positive experiences. And yet, there is no readily accessible way in which migrants and refugees can recreate the connections that sustained them in the past. As Jackson suggests,the irreversibility of time is intimately connected with the irreversibility of one’s place of origin, and this entwined movement through time and across space proves perplexing to many migrants, who, in imagining themselves one day returning to the place from where they started out, forget that there is no transport which will convey them back into the past. … Often it is only by going home that is becomes starkly and disconcertingly clear that one’s natal village is no longer the same and that one has also changed. (221)The dream of home and family, therefore and the hope that this might somehow be recreated in the safety of the here and now, becomes a paradoxical loss and longing even as it is a constant companion for many on their refugee journey.Esma’s DreamAccording to author three, personal dreams are not generally discussed in Arab culture, even though dreams themselves may form part of the rich tradition of Arabic folklore and storytelling. Alongside issues of mental wellbeing, dreams are constructed as something private, and it generally breaks social taboos to describe them publicly. However, in personal discussions with other refugee women and men, and echoing Jackson’s finding, a recurring dream is “to meet my family in a safe place and not be worried about my safety or theirs”. As a refugee, the third author shares this dream. This is also the perspective articulated by Esma, who had recently had a fifth child and was very much missing her extended family who had died, been scattered as refugees, or were still living in a conflict zone. The researcher asked Sara to ask Esma about the best aspect of her current life:[01:17:03] Esma: The thing that comforts me here is nature, it’s beautiful.[01:17:15] Sara (to the Researcher): The nature.[01:17:16] Esma: And feeling safe.[01:17:19] Sara (to the Researcher): The safety. ...[01:17:45] Esma: Life’s beautiful here.[01:17:47] Sara (to the Researcher): Life is beautiful here.[01:17:49] Esma: But I want to know people, speak the language, have friends, life is beautiful here even if I don’t have my family here.[01:17:56] Sara (to the Researcher): Life is so pretty you only need to improve the language and have friends, she said I love my life here even though I don’t have any family or community here. (To Esma:) I am your family.[01:18:12] Esma: Bring me my siblings here.[01:18:14] Sara (to Esma): I just want my brothers here and my sisters.[01:18:17] Esma: It’s a dream.[01:18:18] Sara (to Esma): it’s a dream, one day it will become true.Here Esma uses the term dream metaphorically, to describe an imagined utopia: a dream world. In supporting Esma, who is mourning the absence of her family, Sara finds herself reacting and emoting around their shared experience of leaving siblings behind. In doing so, she affirms the younger woman, but also offers a hope for the future. Esma had previously made a suggestion, absorbed into her larger dream, but more achievable in the short term, “to know people, speak the language, have friends”. The implication here is that Esma is keen to find a way to connect with Australians. She sees this as a means of compensating for the loss of family, a realistic hope rather than an impossible dream.ConclusionInterviews with refugee families in a Perth-based migrant support centre reveals both the nightmare pasts and the dreamed-of futures of people whose lives have experienced a radical disruption due to war, conflict and other life-threatening events. Jackson’s work with migrants provides a context for understanding the power of the dream in helping to resolve issues around the irreversibility of time and circumstance, while Wilson and Arvanitakis point to the importance of hope and resilience in supporting the building of a positive future. Within this mix of the longed for and the impossible, both the refugee informants and the academic literature suggest that participation in local events, and authentic engagement with the broader community, help make a difference in supporting a migrant’s transition from dreaming to reality.AcknowledgmentsThis article arises from an ARC Linkage Project, ‘A Hand Up: Disrupting the Communication of Intergenerational Welfare Dependency’ (LP140100935), supported by the Australian Research Council, Partner Organisation St Vincent de Paul Society (WA) Inc., and Edith Cowan University. The authors are grateful to the anonymous staff and member of Vinnies’ Migrant and Refugee Homebase for their trust in and support of this project, and for their contributions to it.ReferencesBadiou, Alan. Saint Paul: The Foundation of Universalism. Trans. Ray Brassier. Stanford, CA: Stanford UP, 2003.Boswell, Christina. “Burden-Sharing in the European Union: Lessons from the German and UK Experience.” Journal of Refugee Studies 16.3 (2003): 316–35.Burr, Vivien. Social Constructionism. 2nd ed. Hove, UK & New York, NY: Routledge, 2003.Campays, Philippe, and Vioula Said. “Re-Imagine.” M/C Journal 20.4 (2017). Aug. 2017 <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/view/1250>.Crotty, Michael. The Foundations of Social Research: Meaning and Perspective in the Research Process. St Leonards: Allen & Unwin, 1998.Eades, David. “Resilience and Refugees: From Individualised Trauma to Post Traumatic Growth.” M/C Journal 16.5 (2013). Aug. 2013 <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/view/700>.Fozdar, Farida, and Silvia Torezani. “Discrimination and Well-Being: Perceptions of Refugees in Western Australia.” The International Migration Review 42.1 (2008): 1–34.Gill, Nicholas. “Longing for Stillness: The Forced Movement of Asylum Seekers.” M/C Journal 12.1 (2009). Mar. 2009 <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/view/123>.Graybeal, Clay. “Strengths-Based Social Work Assessment: Transforming the Dominant Paradigm.” Families in Society 82.3 (2001): 233–42.Green, Lelia, and Anne Aly. “Bastard Immigrants: Asylum Seekers Who Arrive by Boat and the Illegitimate Fear of the Other.” M/C Journal 17.5 (2014). Oct. 2014 <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/view/896>.Guba, Egon G., and Yvonna S. Lincoln. "Competing Paradigms in Qualitative Research." Handbook of Qualitative Research 2 (1994): 163-194.Gupta, Akhil, and James Ferguson. “Beyond ‘Culture’: Space, Identity, and the Politics of Difference.” Religion and Social Justice for Immigrants. Ed. Pierrette Hondagneu-Sotelo. New Jersey: Rutgers UP, 2006. 72-79.Jackson, Michael. The Wherewithal of Life: Ethics, Migration, and the Question of Well-Being. California: U of California P, 2013.Joseph, Miranda. Against the Romance of Community. Minnesota: University of Minnesota Press, 2002.Myers, Misha. “Situations for Living: Performing Emplacement." Research in Drama Education 13.2 (2008): 171-180. DOI: 10.1080/13569780802054828.Nyers, Peter. “Abject Cosmopolitanism: The Politics of Protection in the Anti-Deportation Movement.” Third World Quarterly 24.6 (2003): 1069–93.Saleeby, Dennis. “The Strengths Perspective in Social Work Practice: Extensions and Cautions.” Social Work 41.3 (1996): 296–305.Valibhoy, Madeleine C., Ida Kaplan, and Josef Szwarc. “‘It Comes Down to Just How Human Someone Can Be’: A Qualitative Study with Young People from Refugee Backgrounds about Their Experiences of Australian Mental Health Services.” Transcultural Psychiatry 54.1 (2017): 23-45.Wilson, Michael. Accumulating Resilience: An Investigation of the Migration and Resettlement Experiences of Young Sudanese People in the Western Sydney Area. Sydney: University of Western Sydney, 2012.Wilson, Michael John, and James Arvanitakis. “The Resilience Complex.” M/C Journal 16.5 (2013). <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/view/741>.Xavier, Johnathon, and Renato Rosaldo. “Thinking the Global.” The Anthropology of Globalisation. Eds. Johnathon Xavier and Renato Rosaldo. New Jersey: Wiley-Blackwell Publishers, 2002.

The academic journal is obsolete. In a world where there are more titles than ever, this is a comment on their form – especially the print journal – rather than their quantity. Now that you can get everything online, it doesn’t really matter what journal a paper appears in; certainly it doesn’t matter what’s in the same issue. The experience of a journal is rapidly obsolescing, for both editors and readers. I’m obviously not the first person to notice this (see, for instance, "Scholarly Communication"; "Transforming Scholarly Communication"; Houghton; Policy Perspectives; Teute), but I do have a personal stake in the process. For if the journal is obsolete then it follows that the editor is obsolete, and I am the editor of the International Journal of Cultural Studies. I founded the IJCS and have been sole editor ever since. Next year will see the fiftieth issue. So far, I have been responsible for over 280 published articles – over 2.25 million words of other people’s scholarship … and counting. We won’t say anything about the words that did not get published, except that the IJCS rejection rate is currently 87 per cent. Perhaps the first point that needs to be made, then, is that obsolescence does not imply lack of success. By any standard the IJCS is a successful journal, and getting more so. It has recently been assessed as a top-rating A* journal in the Australian Research Council’s journal rankings for ERA (Excellence in Research for Australia), the newly activated research assessment exercise. (In case you’re wondering, M/C Journal is rated B.) The ARC says of the ranking exercise: ‘The lists are a result of consultations with the sector and rigorous review by leading researchers and the ARC.’ The ARC definition of an A* journal is given as: Typically an A* journal would be one of the best in its field or subfield in which to publish and would typically cover the entire field/ subfield. Virtually all papers they publish will be of very high quality. These are journals where most of the work is important (it will really shape the field) and where researchers boast about getting accepted.Acceptance rates would typically be low and the editorial board would be dominated by field leaders, including many from top institutions. (Appendix I, p. 21; and see p. 4.)Talking of boasting, I love to prate about the excellent people we’ve published in the IJCS. We have introduced new talent to the field, and we have published new work by some of its pioneers – including Richard Hoggart and Stuart Hall. We’ve also published – among many others – Sara Ahmed, Mohammad Amouzadeh, Tony Bennett, Goran Bolin, Charlotte Brunsdon, William Boddy, Nico Carpentier, Stephen Coleman, Nick Couldry, Sean Cubitt, Michael Curtin, Daniel Dayan, Ben Dibley, Stephanie Hemelryk Donald, John Frow, Elfriede Fursich, Christine Geraghty, Mark Gibson, Paul Gilroy, Faye Ginsberg, Jonathan Gray, Lawrence Grossberg, Judith Halberstam, Hanno Hardt, Gay Hawkins, Joke Hermes, Su Holmes, Desmond Hui, Fred Inglis, Henry Jenkins, Deborah Jermyn, Ariel Heryanto, Elihu Katz, Senator Rod Kemp (Australian government minister), Youna Kim, Agnes Ku, Richard E. Lee, Jeff Lewis, David Lodge (the novelist), Knut Lundby, Eric Ma, Anna McCarthy, Divya McMillin, Antonio Menendez-Alarcon, Toby Miller, Joe Moran, Chris Norris, John Quiggin, Chris Rojek, Jane Roscoe, Jeffrey Sconce, Lynn Spigel, John Storey, Su Tong, the late Sako Takeshi, Sue Turnbull, Graeme Turner, William Uricchio, José van Dijck, Georgette Wang, Jing Wang, Elizabeth Wilson, Janice Winship, Handel Wright, Wu Jing, Wu Qidi (Chinese Vice-Minister of Education), Emilie Yueh-Yu Yeh, Robert Young and Zhao Bin. As this partial list makes clear, as well as publishing the top ‘hegemons’ we also publish work pointing in new directions, including papers from neighbouring disciplines such as anthropology, area studies, economics, education, feminism, history, literary studies, philosophy, political science, and sociology. We have sought to represent neglected regions, especially Chinese cultural studies, which has grown strongly during the past decade. And for quite a few up-and-coming scholars we’ve been the proud host of their first international publication. The IJCS was first published in 1998, already well into the internet era, but it was print-only at that time. Since then, all content, from volume 1:1 onwards, has been digitised and is available online (although vol 1:2 is unaccountably missing). The publishers, Sage Publications Ltd, London, have steadily added online functionality, so that now libraries can get the journal in various packages, including offering this title among many others in online-only bundles, and individuals can purchase single articles online. Thus, in addition to institutional and individual subscriptions, which remain the core business of the journal, income is derived by the publisher from multi-site licensing, incremental consortial sales income, single- and back-issue sales (print), pay-per-view, and deep back file sales (electronic). So what’s obsolete about it? In that boasting paragraph of mine (above), about what wonderful authors we’ve published, lies one of the seeds of obsolescence. For now that it is available online, ‘users’ (no longer ‘readers’!) can search for what they want and ignore the journal as such altogether. This is presumably how most active researchers experience any journal – they are looking for articles (or less: quotations; data; references) relevant to a given topic, literature review, thesis etc. They encounter a journal online through its ‘content’ rather than its ‘form.’ The latter is irrelevant to them, and may as well not exist. The Cover Some losses are associated with this change. First is the loss of the front cover. Now you, dear reader, scrolling through this article online, might well complain, why all the fuss about covers? Internet-generation journals don’t have covers, so all of the work that goes into them to establish the brand, the identity and even the ‘affect’ of a journal is now, well, obsolete. So let me just remind you of what’s at stake. Editors, designers and publishers all take a good deal of trouble over covers, since they are the point of intersection of editorial, design and marketing priorities. Thus, the IJCS cover contains the only ‘content’ of the journal for which we pay a fee to designers and photographers (usually the publisher pays, but in one case I did). Like any other cover, ours has three main elements: title, colour and image. Thought goes into every detail. Title I won’t say anything about the journal’s title as such, except that it was the result of protracted discussions (I suggested Terra Nullius at one point, but Sage weren’t having any of that). The present concern is with how a title looks on a cover. Our title-typeface is Frutiger. Originally designed by Adrian Frutiger for Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, it is suitably international, being used for the corporate identity of the UK National Health Service, Telefónica O2, the Royal Navy, the London School of Economics , the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, the Conservative Party of Canada, Banco Bradesco of Brazil, the Finnish Defence Forces and on road signs in Switzerland (Wikipedia, "Frutiger"). Frutiger is legible, informal, and reads well in small copy. Sage’s designer and I corresponded on which of the words in our cumbersome name were most important, agreeing that ‘international’ combined with ‘cultural’ is the USP (Unique Selling Point) of the journal, so they should be picked out (in bold small-caps) from the rest of the title, which the designer presented in a variety of Frutiger fonts (regular, italic, and reversed – white on black), presumably to signify the dynamism and diversity of our content. The word ‘studies’ appears on a lozenge-shaped cartouche that is also used as a design element throughout the journal, for bullet points, titles and keywords. Colour We used to change this every two years, but since volume 7 it has stabilised with the distinctive Pantone 247, ‘new fuchsia.’ This colour arose from my own environment at QUT, where it was chosen (by me) for the new Creative Industries Faculty’s academic gowns and hoods, and thence as a detailing colour for the otherwise monochrome Creative Industries Precinct buildings. There’s a lot of it around my office, including on the wall and the furniture. New Fuchsia is – we are frequently told – a somewhat ‘girly’ colour, especially when contrasted with the Business Faculty’s blue or Law’s silver; its similarity to the Girlfriend/Dolly palette does introduce a mild ‘politics of prestige’ element, since it is determinedly pop culture, feminised, and non-canonical. Image Right at the start, the IJCS set out to signal its difference from other journals. At that time, all Sage journals had calligraphic colours – but I was insistent that we needed a photograph (I have ‘form’ in this respect: in 1985 I changed the cover of the Australian Journal of Cultural Studies from a line drawing (albeit by Sydney Nolan) to a photograph; and I co-designed the photo-cover of Cultural Studies in 1987). For IJCS I knew which photo I wanted, and Sage went along with the choice. I explained it in the launch issue’s editorial (Hartley, "Editorial"). That original picture, a goanna on a cattle grid in the outback, by Australian photographer Grant Hobson, lasted ten years. Since volume 11 – in time for our second decade – the goanna has been replaced with a picture by Italian-based photographer Patrick Nicholas, called ‘Reality’ (Hartley, "Cover Narrative"). We have also used two other photos as cover images, once each. They are: Daniel Meadows’s 1974 ‘Karen & Barbara’ (Hartley, "Who"); and a 1962 portrait of Richard Hoggart from the National Portrait Gallery in London (Owen & Hartley 2007). The choice of picture has involved intense – sometimes very tense – negotiations with Sage. Most recently, they were adamant the Daniel Meadows picture, which I wanted to use as the long-term replacement of the goanna, was too ‘English’ and they would not accept it. We exchanged rather sharp words before compromising. There’s no need to rehearse the dispute here; the point is that both sides, publisher and editor, felt that vital interests were at stake in the choice of a cover-image. Was it too obscure; too Australian; too English; too provocative (the current cover features, albeit in the deep background, a TV screen-shot of a topless Italian game-show contestant)? Running Order Beyond the cover, the next obsolete feature of a journal is the running order of articles. Obviously what goes in the journal is contingent upon what has been submitted and what is ready at a given time, so this is a creative role within a very limited context, which is what makes it pleasurable. Out of a limited number of available papers, a choice must be made about which one goes first, what order the other papers should follow, and which ones must be held over to the next issue. The first priority is to choose the lead article: like the ‘first face’ in a fashion show (if you don’t know what I mean by that, see FTV.com. It sets the look, the tone, and the standard for the issue. I always choose articles I like for this slot. It sends a message to the field – look at this! Next comes the running order. We have about six articles per issue. It is important to maintain the IJCS’s international mix, so I check for the country of origin, or failing that (since so many articles come from Anglosphere countries like the USA, UK and Australia), the location of the analysis. Attention also has to be paid to the gender balance among authors, and to the mix of senior and emergent scholars. Sometimes a weak article needs to be ‘hammocked’ between two good ones (these are relative terms – everything published in the IJCS is of a high scholarly standard). And we need to think about disciplinary mix, so as not to let the journal stray too far towards one particular methodological domain. Running order is thus a statement about the field – the disciplinary domain – rather than about an individual paper. It is a proposition about how different voices connect together in some sort of disciplinary syntax. One might even claim that the combination of cover and running order is a last vestige of collegiate collectivism in an era of competitive academic individualism. Now all that matters is the individual paper and author; the ‘currency’ is tenure, promotion and research metrics, not relations among peers. The running order is obsolete. Special Issues An extreme version of running order is the special issue. The IJCS has regularly published these; they are devoted to field-shaping initiatives, as follows: Title Editor(s) Issue Date Radiocracy: Radio, Development and Democracy Amanda Hopkinson, Jo Tacchi 3.2 2000 Television and Cultural Studies Graeme Turner 4.4 2001 Cultural Studies and Education Karl Maton, Handel Wright 5.4 2002 Re-Imagining Communities Sara Ahmed, Anne-Marie Fortier 6.3 2003 The New Economy, Creativity and Consumption John Hartley 7.1 2004 Creative Industries and Innovation in China Michael Keane, John Hartley 9.3 2006 The Uses of Richard Hoggart Sue Owen, John Hartley 10.1 2007 A Cultural History of Celebrity Liz Barry 11.3 2008 Caribbean Media Worlds Anna Pertierra, Heather Horst 12.2 2009 Co-Creative Labour Mark Deuze, John Banks 12.5 2009 It’s obvious that special issues have a place in disciplinary innovation – they can draw attention in a timely manner to new problems, neglected regions, or innovative approaches, and thus they advance the field. They are indispensible. But because of online publication, readers are not held to the ‘project’ of a special issue and can pick and choose whatever they want. And because of the peculiarities of research assessment exercises, editing special issues doesn’t count as research output. The incentive to do them is to that extent reduced, and some universities are quite heavy-handed about letting academics ‘waste’ time on activities that don’t produce ‘metrics.’ The special issue is therefore threatened with obsolescence too. Refereeing In many top-rating journals, the human side of refereeing is becoming obsolete. Increasingly this labour-intensive chore is automated and the labour is technologically outsourced from editors and publishers to authors and referees. You have to log on to some website and follow prompts in order to contribute both papers and the assessment of papers; interactions with editors are minimal. At the IJCS the process is still handled by humans – namely, journal administrator Tina Horton and me. We spend a lot of time checking how papers are faring, from trying to find the right referees through to getting the comments and then the author’s revisions completed in time for a paper to be scheduled into an issue. The volume of email correspondence is considerable. We get to know authors and referees. So we maintain a sense of an interactive and conversational community, albeit by correspondence rather than face to face. Doubtless, sooner or later, there will be a depersonalised Text Management System. But in the meantime we cling to the romantic notion that we are involved in refereeing for the sake of the field, for raising the standard of scholarship, for building a globally dispersed virtual college of cultural studies, and for giving everyone – from unfavoured countries and neglected regions to famous professors in old-money universities – the same chance to get their research published. In fact, these are largely delusional ideals, for as everyone knows, refereeing is part of the political economy of publicly-funded research. It’s about academic credentials, tenure and promotion for the individual, and about measurable research metrics for the academic organisation or funding agency (Hartley, "Death"). The IJCS has no choice but to participate: we do what is required to qualify as a ‘double-blind refereed journal’ because that is the only way to maintain repute, and thence the flow of submissions, not to mention subscriptions, without which there would be no journal. As with journals themselves, which proliferate even as the print form becomes obsolete, so refereeing is burgeoning as a practice. It’s almost an industry, even though the currency is not money but time: part gift-economy; part attention-economy; partly the payment of dues to the suzerain funding agencies. But refereeing is becoming obsolete in the sense of gathering an ‘imagined community’ of people one might expect to know personally around a particular enterprise. The process of dispersal and anonymisation of the field is exacerbated by blind refereeing, which we do because we must. This is suited to a scientific domain of objective knowledge, but everyone knows it’s not quite like that in the ‘new humanities’. The agency and identity of the researcher is often a salient fact in the research. The embedded positionality of the author, their reflexiveness about their own context and room-for-manoeuvre, and the radical contextuality of knowledge itself – these are all more or less axiomatic in cultural studies, but they’re not easily served by ‘double-blind’ refereeing. When refereeing is depersonalised to the extent that is now rife (especially in journals owned by international commercial publishers), it is hard to maintain a sense of contextualised productivity in the knowledge domain, much less a ‘common cause’ to which both author and referee wish to contribute. Even though refereeing can still be seen as altruistic, it is in the service of something much more general (‘scholarship’) and much more particular (‘my career’) than the kind of reviewing that wants to share and improve a particular intellectual enterprise. It is this mid-range altruism – something that might once have been identified as a politics of knowledge – that’s becoming obsolete, along with the printed journals that were the banner and rallying point for the cause. If I were to start a new journal (such as cultural-science.org), I would prefer ‘open refereeing’: uploading papers on an open site, subjecting them to peer-review and criticism, and archiving revised versions once they have received enough votes and comments. In other words I’d like to see refereeing shifted from the ‘supply’ or production side of a journal to the ‘demand’ or readership side. But of course, ‘demand’ for ‘blind’ refereeing doesn’t come from readers; it comes from the funding agencies. The Reading Experience Finally, the experience of reading a journal is obsolete. Two aspects of this seem worthy of note. First, reading is ‘out of time’ – it no longer needs to conform to the rhythms of scholarly publication, which are in any case speeding up. Scholarship is no longer seasonal, as it has been since the Middle Ages (with university terms organised around agricultural and ecclesiastical rhythms). Once you have a paper’s DOI number, you can read it any time, 24/7. It is no longer necessary even to wait for publication. With some journals in our field (e.g. Journalism Studies), assuming your Library subscribes, you can access papers as soon as they’re uploaded on the journal’s website, before the published edition is printed. Soon this will be the norm, just as it is for the top science journals, where timely publication, and thereby the ability to claim first discovery, is the basis of intellectual property rights. The IJCS doesn’t (yet) offer this service, but its frequency is speeding up. It was launched in 1998 with three issues a year. It went quarterly in 2001 and remained a quarterly for eight years. It has recently increased to six issues a year. That too causes changes in the reading experience. The excited ripping open of the package is less of a thrill the more often it arrives. Indeed, how many subscribers will admit that sometimes they don’t even open the envelope? Second, reading is ‘out of place’ – you never have to see the journal in which a paper appears, so you can avoid contact with anything that you haven’t already decided to read. This is more significant than might first appear, because it is affecting journalism in general, not just academic journals. As we move from the broadcast to the broadband era, communicative usage is shifting too, from ‘mass’ communication to customisation. This is a mixed blessing. One of the pleasures of old-style newspapers and the TV news was that you’d come across stories you did not expect to find. Indeed, an important attribute of the industrial form of journalism is its success in getting whole populations to read or watch stories about things they aren’t interested in, or things like wars and crises that they’d rather not know about at all. That historic textual achievement is in jeopardy in the broadband era, because ‘the public’ no longer needs to gather around any particular masthead or bulletin to get their news. With Web 2.0 affordances, you can exercise much more choice over what you attend to. This is great from the point of view of maximising individual choice, but sub-optimal in relation to what I’ve called ‘population-gathering’, especially the gathering of communities of interest around ‘tales of the unexpected’ – novelty or anomalies. Obsolete: Collegiality, Trust and Innovation? The individuation of reading choices may stimulate prejudice, because prejudice (literally, ‘pre-judging’) is built in when you decide only to access news feeds about familiar topics, stories or people in which you’re already interested. That sort of thing may encourage narrow-mindedness. It is certainly an impediment to chance discovery, unplanned juxtaposition, unstructured curiosity and thence, perhaps, to innovation itself. This is a worry for citizenship in general, but it is also an issue for academic ‘knowledge professionals,’ in our ever-narrower disciplinary silos. An in-close specialist focus on one’s own area of expertise need no longer be troubled by the concerns of the person in the next office, never mind the next department. Now, we don’t even have to meet on the page. One of the advantages of whole journals, then, is that each issue encourages ‘macro’ as well as ‘micro’ perspectives, and opens reading up to surprises. This willingness to ‘take things on trust’ describes a ‘we’ community – a community of trust. Trust too is obsolete in these days of performance evaluation. We’re assessed by an anonymous system that’s managed by people we’ll never meet. If the ‘population-gathering’ aspects of print journals are indeed obsolete, this may reduce collegiate trust and fellow-feeling, increase individualist competitiveness, and inhibit innovation. In the face of that prospect, I’m going to keep on thinking about covers, running orders, referees and reading until the role of editor is obsolete too. ReferencesHartley, John. "'Cover Narrative': From Nightmare to Reality." International Journal of Cultural Studies 11.2 (2005): 131-137. ———. "Death of the Book?" Symposium of the National Scholarly Communication Forum & Australian Academy of the Humanities, Sydney Maritime Museum, 2005. 26 Apr. 2009 ‹http://www.humanities.org.au/Resources/Downloads/NSCF/RoundTables1-17/PDF/Hartley.pdf›. ———. "Editorial: With Goanna." International Journal of Cultural Studies 1.1 (1998): 5-10. ———. "'Who Are You Going to Believe – Me or Your Own Eyes?' New Decade; New Directions." International Journal of Cultural Studies 11.1 (2008): 5-14. Houghton, John. "Economics of Scholarly Communication: A Discussion Paper." Center for Strategic Economic Studies, Victoria University, 2000. 26 Apr. 2009 ‹http://www.caul.edu.au/cisc/EconomicsScholarlyCommunication.pdf›. Owen, Sue, and John Hartley, eds. The Uses of Richard Hoggart. International Journal of Cultural Studies (special issue), 10.1 (2007). Policy Perspectives: To Publish and Perish. (Special issue cosponsored by the Association of Research Libraries, Association of American Universities and the Pew Higher Education Roundtable) 7.4 (1998). 26 Apr. 2009 ‹http://www.arl.org/scomm/pew/pewrept.html›. "Scholarly Communication: Crisis and Revolution." University of California Berkeley Library. N.d. 26 Apr. 2009 ‹http://www.lib.berkeley.edu/Collections/crisis.html›. Teute, F. J. "To Publish or Perish: Who Are the Dinosaurs in Scholarly Publishing?" Journal of Scholarly Publishing 32.2 (2001). 26 Apr. 2009 ‹http://www.utpjournals.com/product/jsp/322/perish5.html›."Transforming Scholarly Communication." University of Houston Library. 2005. 26 Apr. 2009 ‹http://info.lib.uh.edu/scomm/transforming.htm›.

If thinking about home necessitates thinking about “place, space, scale, identity and power,” as Alison Blunt and Robyn Dowling (2) suggest, then thinking about home themes in popular music makes no less a conceptual demand. Song lyrics and titles most often invoke dominant readings such as intimacy, privacy, nurture, refuge, connectedness and shared belonging, all issues found within Blunt and Dowling’s analysis. The spatial imaginary to which these authors refer takes vivid shape through repertoires of songs dealing with houses and other specific sites, vast and distant homelands, communities or, less tangibly, geographical or cultural settings where particular relationships can be found, supporting Blunt and Dowling’s major claim that home is complex, multi-scalar and multi-layered. Shelley Mallett’s claim that the term home “functions as a repository for complex, inter-related and at times contradictory socio-cultural ideas about people’s relationships with one another…and with places, spaces and things” (84) is borne out heavily by popular music where, for almost every sentiment that the term home evokes, it seems an opposite sentiment is evoked elsewhere: familiarity versus alienation, acceptance versus rejection, love versus loneliness. Making use of conceptual groundwork by Blunt and Dowling and by Mallett and others, the following discussion canvasses a range of meanings that home has had for a variety of songwriters, singers and audiences over the years. Intended as merely partial and exploratory rather than exhaustive, it provides some insights into contrasts, ironies and relationships between home and gender, diaspora and loss. While it cannot cover all the themes, it gives prominence to the major recurring themes and a variety of important contexts that give rise to these home themes. Most prominent among those songs dealing with home has been a nostalgia and yearning, while issues of how women may have viewed the home within which they have often been restricted to a narrowly defined private sphere are almost entirely absent. This serves as a reminder that, while some themes can be conducive to the medium of popular music, others may be significantly less so. Songs may speak directly of experience but not necessarily of all experiences and certainly not of all experiences equally. B. Lee Cooper claims “most popular culture ventures rely upon formula-oriented settings and phrasings to attract interest, to spur mental or emotional involvement” (93). Notions of home have generally proved both formulaic and emotionally-charged. Commonly understood patterns of meaning and other hegemonic references generally operate more successfully than alternative reference points. Those notions with the strongest cultural currency can be conveyed succinctly and denote widely agreed upon meanings. Lyrics can seldom afford to be deeply analytical but generally must be concise and immediately evocative. Despite that, this discussion will point to diverse meanings carried by songs about home. Blunt and Dowling point out that “a house is not necessarily nor automatically a home” (3). The differences are strongly apparent in music, with only a few songs relating to houses compared with homes. When Malvina Reynolds wrote in 1962 of “little boxes, on the hillside, little boxes made of ticky-tacky,” she was certainly referring to houses, not homes, thus making it easier to bypass the relationships which might have vested the inhabitants with more warmth and individuality than their houses, in this song about conformity and homogeneity. The more complex though elusive concept of home, however, is more likely to feature in love songs and to emanate from diasporal songs. Certainly these two genres are not mutually exclusive. Irish songs are particularly noteworthy for adding to the array of music written by, or representational of, those who have been forced away from home by war, poverty, strife or other circumstances. They manifest identities of displacement rather than of placement, as studied by Bronwen Walter, looking back at rather than from within their spatial imaginary. Phil Eva claims that during the 19th Century Irish émigrés sang songs of exile in Manchester’s streets. Since many in England’s industrial towns had been uprooted from their homes, the songs found rapport with street audiences and entered popular culture. For example, the song Killarney, of hazy origins but thought to date back to as early as 1850, tells of Killarney’s lakes and fells, Emerald isles and winding bays; Mountain paths and woodland dells… ...her [nature’s] home is surely there. As well as anthropomorphising nature and giving it a home, the song suggests a specifically geographic sense of home. Galway Bay, written by A. Fahy, does likewise, as do many other Irish songs of exile which link geography with family, kin and sometimes culture to evoke a sense of home. The final verse of Cliffs of Doneen gives a sense of both people and place making up home: Fare thee well to Doneen, fare thee well for a while And to all the kind people I’m leaving behind To the streams and the meadows where late I have been And the high rocky slopes round the cliffs of Doneen. Earlier Irish songs intertwine home with political issues. For example, Tho’ the Last Glimpse of Erin vows to Erin that “In exile thy bosum shall still be my home.” Such exile resulted from a preference of fleeing Ireland rather than bowing to English oppression, which then included a prohibition on Irish having moustaches or certain hairstyles. Thomas Moore is said to have set the words of the song to the air Coulin which itself referred to an Irish woman’s preference for her “Coulin” (a long-haired Irish youth) to the English (Nelson-Burns). Diasporal songs have continued, as has their political edge, as evidenced by global recognition of songs such as Bayan Ko (My Country), written by José Corazon de Jesus in 1929, out of love and concern for the Philippines and sung among Filipinos worldwide. Robin Cohen outlines a set of criteria for diaspora that includes a shared belief in the possibility of return to home, evident in songs such as the 1943 Welsh song A Welcome in the Hillside, in which a Welsh word translating roughly as a yearning to return home, hiraeth, is used: We’ll kiss away each hour of hiraeth When you come home again to Wales. However, the immensely popular I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen, not of Irish origin but written by Thomas Westendorf of Illinois in 1875, suggests that such emotions can have a resonance beyond the diaspora. Anti-colonial sentiments about home can also be expressed by long-time inhabitants, as Harry Belafonte demonstrated in Island in the Sun: This is my island in the sun Where my people have toiled since time begun. Though I may sail on many a sea, Her shores will always be home to me. War brought a deluge of sentimental songs lamenting separation from home and loved ones, just as likely to be parents and siblings as sweethearts. Radios allowed wider audiences and greater popularity for these songs. If separation had brought a longing previously, the added horrors of war presented a stronger contrast between that which the young soldiers were missing and that which they were experiencing. Both the First and Second World Wars gave rise to songs long since sung which originated in such separations, but these also had a strong sense of home as defined by the nationalism that has for over a century given the contours of expectations of soldiers. Focusing on home, these songs seldom speak of the details of war. Rather they are specific about what the singers have left behind and what they hope to return to. Songs of home did not have to be written specifically for the war effort nor for overseas troops. Irving Berlin’s 1942 White Christmas, written for a film, became extremely popular with US troops during WWII, instilling a sense of home that related to familiarities and festivities. Expressing a sense of home could be specific and relate to regions or towns, as did I’m Goin’ Back Again to Yarrawonga, or it could refer to any home, anywhere where there were sons away fighting. Indeed the American Civil War song When Johnny Comes Marching Home, written by Patrick Sarsfield Gilmour, was sung by both Northerners and Southerners, so adaptable was it, with home remarkably unspecified and undescribed. The 1914 British song Keep the Home Fires Burning by Ivor Novello and Lena Ford was among those that evoked a connection between home and the military effort and helped establish a responsibility on those at home to remain optimistic: Keep the Homes fires burning While your hearts are yearning, Though your lads are far away They dream of home, There’s a silver lining Through the dark clouds shining, Turn the dark clouds inside out, Till the boys come Home. No space exists in this song for critique of the reasons for war, nor of a role for women other than that of homemaker and moral guardian. It was women’s duty to ensure men enlisted and home was rendered a private site for emotional enlistment for a presumed public good, though ironically also a point of personal hope where the light of love burned for the enlistees’ safe return. Later songs about home and war challenged these traditional notions. Two serve as examples. One is Pink Floyd’s brief musical piece of the 1970s, Bring the Boys Back Home, whose words of protest against the American war on Viet Nam present home, again, as a site of safety but within a less conservative context. Home becomes implicated in a challenge to the prevailing foreign policy and the interests that influence it, undermining the normal public sphere/private sphere distinction. The other more complex song is Judy Small’s Mothers, Daughters, Wives, from 1982, set against a backdrop of home. Small eloquently describes the dynamics of the domestic space and how women understood their roles in relation to the First and Second World Wars and the Viet Nam War. Reinforcing that “The materialities and imaginaries of home are closely connected” (Blunt and Dowling 188), Small sings of how the gold frames held the photographs that mothers kissed each night And the doorframe held the shocked and silent strangers from the fight. Small provides a rare musical insight into the disjuncture between the men who left the domestic space and those who return to it, and we sense that women may have borne much of the brunt of those awful changes. The idea of domestic bliss is also challenged, though from the returned soldier’s point of view, in Redgum’s 1983 song I Was Only Nineteen, written by group member John Schuman. It touches on the tragedy of young men thrust into war situations and the horrific after-affects for them, which cannot be shrugged off on return to home. The nurturing of home has limits but the privacy associated with the domestic sphere has often concealed the violence and mental anguish that happens away from public view. But by this time most of the songs referring to home were dominated once more by sentimental love, often borne of travel as mobility rose. Journeys help “establish the thresholds and boundaries of home” and can give rise to “an idealized, ideological and ethnocentric view of home” (Mallett 78). Where previously songsters had sung of leaving home in exile or for escape from poverty, lyrics from the 1960s onwards often suggested that work had removed people from loved ones. It could be work on a day-by-day basis, as in A Hard Day’s Night from the 1964 film of the same name, where the Beatles illuminate differences between the public sphere of work and the private sphere to which they return: When I’m home, everything seems to be alright, When I’m home feeling you holding me tight, tight, yeah and reiterated by Paul McCartney in Every Night: And every night that day is through But tonight I just want to stay in And be with you. Lyrics such as these and McCartney’s call to be taken “...home to the Mull of Kintyre,” singled him out for his home-and-hearth messages (Dempsey). But work might involve longer absences and thus more deepfelt loneliness. Simon and Garfunkel’s exemplary Homeward Bound starkly portrays a site of “away-ness”: I’m sittin’ in the railway station, got a ticket for my destination… Mundaneness, monotony and predictability contrast with the home to which the singer’s thoughts are constantly escaping. The routine is familiar but the faces are those of strangers. Home here is, again, not simply a domicile but the warmth of those we know and love. Written at a railway station, Homeward Bound echoes sentiments almost identical to those of (Leaving on a) Jet Plane, written by John Denver at an airport in 1967. Denver also co-wrote (Take Me Home) Country Roads, where, in another example of anthropomorphism as a tool of establishing a strong link, he asks to be taken home to the place I belong West Virginia, mountain momma, Take me home, Country Roads. The theme has recurred in numerous songs since, spawning examples such as Darin and Alquist’s When I Get Home, Chris Daughtry’s Home, Michael Bublé’s Home and Will Smith’s Ain’t No Place Like Home, where, in an opening reminiscent of Homeward Bound, the singer is Sitting in a hotel room A thousand miles away from nowhere Sloped over a chair as I stare… Furniture from home, on the other hand, can be used to evoke contentment and bliss, as demonstrated by George Weiss and Bob Thiele’s song The Home Fire, in which both kin and the objects of home become charged with meaning: All of the folks that I love are there I got a date with my favourite chair Of course, in regard to earlier songs especially, while the traveller associates home with love, security and tenderness, back at home the waiting one may have had feelings more of frustration and oppression. One is desperate to get back home, but for all we know the other may be desperate to get out of home or to develop a life more meaningful than that which was then offered to women. If the lot of homemakers was invisible to national economies (Waring), it seemed equally invisible to mainstream songwriters. This reflects the tradition that “Despite home being generally considered a feminine, nurturing space created by women themselves, they often lack both authority and a space of their own within this realm” (Mallett 75). Few songs have offered the perspective of the one at home awaiting the return of the traveller. One exception is the Seekers’ 1965 A World of Our Own but, written by Tom Springfield, the words trilled by Judith Durham may have been more of a projection of the traveller’s hopes and expectations than a true reflection of the full experiences of housebound women of the day. Certainly, the song reinforces connections between home and intimacy and privacy: Close the door, light the lights. We’re stayin’ home tonight, Far away from the bustle and the bright city lights. Let them all fade away, just leave us alone And we’ll live in a world of our own. This also strongly supports Gaston Bachelard’s claim that one’s house in the sense of a home is one’s “first universe, a real cosmos” (qtd. in Blunt and Dowling 12). But privacy can also be a loneliness when home is not inhabited by loved ones, as in the lyrics of Don Gibson’s 1958 Oh, Lonesome Me, where Everybody’s going out and having fun I’m a fool for staying home and having none. Similar sentiments emerge in Debbie Boone’s You Light up My Life: So many nights I’d sit by my window Waiting for someone to sing me his song. Home in these situations can be just as alienating as the “away” depicted as so unfriendly by Homeward Bound’s strangers’ faces and the “million people” who still leave Michael Bublé feeling alone. Yet there are other songs that depict “away” as a prison made of freedom, insinuating that the lack of a home and consequently of the stable love and commitment presumably found there is a sad situation indeed. This is suggested by the lilting tune, if not by the lyrics themselves, in songs such as Wandrin’ Star from the musical Paint Your Wagon and Ron Miller’s I’ve Never Been to Me, which has both a male and female version with different words, reinforcing gendered experiences. The somewhat conservative lyrics in the female version made it a perfect send-up song in the 1994 film Priscilla: Queen of the Desert. In some songs the absentee is not a traveller but has been in jail. In Tie a Yellow Ribbon round the Ole Oak Tree, an ex-inmate states “I’m comin’ home. I’ve done my time.” Home here is contingent upon the availability and forgivingness of his old girl friend. Another song juxtaposing home with prison is Tom Jones’ The Green, Green Grass of Home in which the singer dreams he is returning to his home, to his parents, girlfriend and, once again, an old oak tree. However, he awakes to find he was dreaming and is about to be executed. His body will be taken home and placed under the oak tree, suggesting some resigned sense of satisfaction that he will, after all, be going home, albeit in different circumstances. Death and home are thus sometimes linked, with home a euphemism for the former, as suggested in many spirituals, with heaven or an afterlife being considered “going home”. The reverse is the case in the haunting Bring Him Home of the musical Les Misérables. With Marius going off to the barricades and the danger involved, Jean Valjean prays for the young man’s safe return and that he might live. Home is connected here with life, safety and ongoing love. In a number of songs about home and absence there is a sense of home being a place where morality is gently enforced, presumably by women who keep men on the straight and narrow, in line with one of the women’s roles of colonial Australia, researched by Anne Summers. These songs imply that when men wander from home, their morals also go astray. Wild Rover bemoans Oh, I’ve been a wild rover for many a year, and I’ve spent all my money on whiskey and beer… There is the resolve in the chorus, however, that home will have a reforming influence. Gene Pitney’s Twenty-Four Hours from Tulsa poses the dangers of distance from a wife’s influence, while displaying opposition to the sentimental yearning of so many other songs: Dearest darlin’, I have to write to say that I won’t be home anymore ‘cause something happened to me while I was drivin’ home And I’m not the same anymore Class as well as gender can be a debated issue in meanings attached to home, as evident in several songs that take a more jaundiced view of home, seeing it as a place from which to escape. The Animals’ powerful We Gotta Get Outta This Place clearly suggests a life of drudgery in a home town or region. Protectively, the lyrics insist “Girl, there’s a better life for me and you” but it has to be elsewhere. This runs against the grain of other British songs addressing poverty or a working class existence as something that comes with its own blessings, all to do with an area identified as home. These traits may be loyalty, familiarity or a refusal to judge and involve identities of placement rather than of displacement in, for instance, Gerry and the Pacemakers’ Ferry Cross the Mersey: People around every corner, they seem to smile and say “We don’t care what your name is, boy. We’ll never send you away.” This bears out Blunt and Dowling’s claim that “people’s senses of themselves are related to and produced through lived and metaphorical experiences of home” (252). It also resonates with some of the region-based identity and solidarity issues explored a short time later by Paul Willis in his study of working class youth in Britain, which help to inform how a sense of home can operate to constrict consciousness, ideas and aspirations. Identity features strongly in other songs about home. Several years after Neil Young recorded his 1970 song Southern Man about racism in the south of the USA, the group Lynyrd Skynyrd, responded with Sweet Home Alabama. While the meaning of its lyrics are still debated, there is no debate about the way in which the song has been embraced, as I recently discovered first-hand in Tennessee. A banjo-and-fiddle band performing the song during a gig virtually brought down the house as the predominantly southern audience clapped, whopped and stamped its feet. The real meanings of home were found not in the lyrics but in the audience’s response. Wally Johnson and Bob Brown’s 1975 Home Among the Gum Trees is a more straightforward ode to home, with lyrics that prescribe a set of non-commodified values. It is about simplicity and the right to embrace a lifestyle that includes companionship, leisure and an enjoyment of and appreciation of nature, all threatened seriously in the three decades since the song’s writing. The second verse in which large shopping complexes – and implicitly the consumerism they encourage – are eschewed (“I’d trade it all tomorrow for a little bush retreat where the kookaburras call”), is a challenge to notions of progress and reflects social movements of the day, The Green Bans Movement, for instance, took a broader and more socially conscientious attitude towards home and community, putting forward alternative sets of values and insisting people should have a say in the social and aesthetic construction of their neighbourhoods as well as the impacts of their labour (Mundey). Ironically, the song has gone on to become the theme song for a TV show about home gardens. With a strong yet more vague notion of home, Peter Allen’s I Still Call Australia Home, was more prone to commodification and has been adopted as a promotional song for Qantas. Nominating only the desire to travel and the love of freedom as Australian values, both politically and socially innocuous within the song’s context, this catchy and uplifting song, when not being used as an advertisement, paradoxically works for a “diaspora” of Australians who are not in exile but have mostly travelled for reasons of pleasure or professional or financial gain. Another paradox arises from the song Home on the Range, dating back to the 19th century at a time when the frontier was still a strong concept in the USA and people were simultaneously leaving homes and reminiscing about home (Mechem). Although it was written in Kansas, the lyrics – again vague and adaptable – were changed by other travellers so that versions such as Colorado Home and My Arizona Home soon abounded. In 1947 Kansas made Home on the Range its state song, despite there being very few buffalo left there, thus highlighting a disjuncture between the modern Kansas and “a home where the buffalo roam” as described in the song. These themes, paradoxes and oppositional understandings of home only scratch the surface of the wide range of claims that are made on home throughout popular music. It has been shown that home is a flexible concept, referring to homelands, regions, communities and private houses. While predominantly used to evoke positive feelings, mostly with traditional views of the relationships that lie within homes, songs also raise challenges to notions of domesticity, the rights of those inhabiting the private sphere and the demarcation between the private and public spheres. Songs about home reflect contexts and challenges of their respective eras and remind us that vigorous discussion takes place about and within homes. The challenges are changing. Where many women once felt restrictively tied to the home – and no doubt many continue to do so – many women and men are now struggling to rediscover spatial boundaries, with production and consumption increasingly impinging upon relationships that have so frequently given the term home its meaning. With evidence that we are working longer hours and that home life, in whatever form, is frequently suffering (Beder, Hochschild), the discussion should continue. In the words of Sam Cooke, Bring it on home to me! References Bacheland, Gaston. The Poetics of Space. Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 1994. Beder, Sharon. Selling the Work Ethic: From Puritan Pulpit to Corporate PR. London: Zed Books, 2000. Blunt, Alison, and Robyn Dowling. Home. London: Routledge, 2006. Cohen, Robin. Global Diasporas: An Introduction. London: UCL Press, 1997. Cooper, B. Lee. “Good Timin’: Searching for Meaning in Clock Songs.” Popular Music and Society 30.1 (Feb. 2007): 93-106. Dempsey, J.M. “McCartney at 60: A Body of Work Celebrating Home and Hearth.” Popular Music and Society 27.1 (Feb. 2004): 27-40. Eva, Phil. “Home Sweet Home? The Culture of ‘Exile’ in Mid-Victorian Popular Song.” Popular Music 16.2 (May 1997): 131-150. Hochschild, Arlie. The Time Bind: When Work Becomes Home and Home Becomes Work. New York: Metropolitan/Holt, 1997. Mallett, Sonia. “Understanding Home: A Critical Review of the Literature.” The Sociological Review 52.1 (2004): 62-89. Mechem, Kirke, “The Story of ‘Home on the Range’.” Reprint from the Kansas Historical Quarterly (Nov. 1949). Topeka, Kansas: Kansas State Historical Society. 28 May 2007 http://www.emporia.edu/cgps/tales/nov2003.html>. Mundey, Jack. Green Bans and Beyond. Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1981. Nelson-Burns, Lesley. Folk Music of England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales and America. 29 May 2007 http://www.contemplator.com/ireland/thoerin.html>. Summers, Anne. Damned Whores and God’s Police: The Colonization of Women in Australia. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1975. Walter, Bronwen. Outsiders Inside: Whiteness, Place and Irish Women. London: Routledge, 2001. Waring, Marilyn. Counting for Nothing: What Men Value and What Women Are Worth. Wellington, NZ: Allen & Unwin, 1988. Willis, Paul. Learning to Labor: How Working Class Kids Get Working Class Jobs. New York: Columbia UP, 1977. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Varney, Wendy. "Homeward Bound or Housebound?: Themes of Home in Popular Music." M/C Journal 10.4 (2007). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0708/16-varney.php>. APA Style Varney, W. (Aug. 2007) "Homeward Bound or Housebound?: Themes of Home in Popular Music," M/C Journal, 10(4). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0708/16-varney.php>.