Journal articles on the topic 'A mon seul desir'

ABSTRACTThe copyist of the manuscript Oxford, Bodleian Library, Canon. Misc. 213 was detailed and well versed in numerous notational styles, and as a result, examples of unusual notation in this manuscript have drawn a critical eye. Yet the unique transcription of Binchois's rondeauMon seul et souverain desir, in which the copyist alternates between the two common note shapes for the semiminim in the cantus voice, has thus far gone unexplained. This notation has no rhythmic significance; as such, it appears to be a superficial anomaly. In this article, I lay out a rationale for a reading of the notation of the semiminims in this piece as potentially deliberate and meaningful. Over the course of compiling the manuscript, the copyist increasingly aligned semiminim shape with prolation: the full-black shape is used exclusively in minor prolation, whereas the void flagged shape becomes more frequently restricted to major prolation. Since the rondeau is in minor prolation, I suggest that the copyist might have used the void flagged figure in order to suggest a momentary shift into major prolation. In so doing, the copyist might have left to us a witness of a performance practice in which the mensural and rhythmic possibilities inherent in the built-in tension betweenandwere explored.

Desde la tercera edición de La realidad y el deseo (México, F.C.E., 1958), el lema “À mon seul Désir”, que el poeta tomó del frontispicio del sexto tapiz de La dame à la licorne (Museo de Cluny, París), encabeza la obra poética en verso de Luis Cernuda. Este artículo, además de confirmar el origen de dicho epígrafe, no siempre reconocido por la crítica y a veces erróneamente atribuido a Baudelaire, intenta aclarar su sentido como elemento peritextual y propone hipótesis de lectura relacionadas con el título y el contenido de la obra cernudiana.

Pour certains interprètes des Recherches philosophiques , Wittgenstein souscrit à l'idée que l'emploi d'un langage est une institution sociale et que suivre une règle est nécessairement une pratique partagée ; d'autres estiment au contraire — à mon avis avec raison — qu'il admet la possibilité d'un langage parlé par un seul individu (à la condition qu'il ne soit pas « privé ») et des règles non communes. Je défends l'interprétation selon laquelle la question importante dans les Recherches n'est pas tellement de savoir si un idiolecte est possible (ou s'il peut y avoir des règles suivies par un seul individu) que de savoir ce qui découle, pour nos concepts (entre autres) de signification, de compréhension linguistique et de « suivre une règle », du fait que la communication verbale soit — comme c'est normalement le cas — une pratique commune.

A partir das reflexões teóricas e filosóficas de Georges Bataille, O erotismo; Didi-Huberman, O que vemos e o que nos olha; Octavio Paz, A dupla chama: amor e erotismo; Gilda Santos e Horácio Costa, A poética dos cinco sentidos revisitada; Cleonice Berardinelli, “Mon seul désir”, entre outros, o presente artigo busca relacionar a obra A dama e o unicórnio, de Maria Teresa Horta, com as tapeçarias medievais quatrocentistas La Dame à la licorne.

Mon expérience comme Rédacteur en chef de la revue RAM est celle d’un pionnier avec des enjeux et contraintes spécifiques des années 1987–1990, dans l’édition scientifique : 1) alimenter en articles de recherche de qualité une toute nouvelle revue francophone auprès d’une communauté d’enseignants universitaires, pas encore rompue à cette activité ; 2) relever le défi de faire fonctionner selon des standards internationaux une revue reposant sur seul bénévolat, dans le contexte technique de cette époque.

Si j’ a i tant écrit sur ma condition de Noir, ce n'est pas que je considérais tenir là mon seul et unique sujet, mais parce qu'il me fallait déverrouiller cette porte avant de pouvoir espérer écrire sur un autre thème. Je ne pense pas que l'on puisse véritablement débattre du problème noir aux États-Unis sans avoir à l'esprit son contexte ; par contexte, j'entends l'histoire, les traditions, les coutumes, les valeurs morales et les préoccupations nationales. James Baldwin,Notes of a Native Son,Boston, Beacon Press, 1955. Rééd. 1988, p. 8.

RÉSUMÉ La complexité urbaine questionne notre intelligence des sociétés. La ville secrète un imaginaire dense et vivant fait de son histoire, des espaces et de leurs représentations, dont seul le récit rend partiellement compte. L’espace n’est pas polysémique : il inscrit les valeurs dominantes. L’architecture et l’urbanisme connotent une conception du monde, que l’acte d’habiter travaille, use et parfois modifie, mais cet acte lui-même est appauvri par l’idéologie. La ville est un empilement fractal de territoires dans lesquels les hommes se déplacent et se côtoient sans forcément se trouver. Le social se structure dans ce qui est l’épaisseur des univers urbains, l’imaginaire vécu, l’espace représenté. Certaines formes urbaines sont devenues le bouc émissaire du mal de vivre. Leurs habitants, objets et victimes de la stigmatisation des lieux, dressent pour se (en) sortir des stratégies de départ réel ou symbolique. L’action sur l’espace, entreprise au nom du bien, se révèle une action de domination sur les hommes. L’approche poétique des espaces permet de retrouver l’humanité de l’autre. Lisbonne ma ville mon poème de chaque semaine (chanson portugaise)

Il est peut-être encore temps de revenir sur le beau livre de Françoise Héritier, L'exercice de la parenté, dont, me semble-t-il, la publication n'a pas été saluée en son temps comme il aurait convenu, au moins à l'extérieur d'un cercle relativement étroit de spécialistes. A mon avis, ce silence tient à deux raisons : la première est bien sûr la difficulté, ou plutôt l'austérité du domaine exploré ; les études de parenté exigent patience et rigueur ; elles font appel à une agilité d'esprit qui n'est pas le lot de tous, et demandent une attention soutenue dont les lecteurs pressés que nous sommes devenus ne sont plus toujours capables. Mais la responsabilité de l'auteur est elle aussi en cause. Françoise Héritier a de nombreux talents, mais elle n'a pas celui de se mettre en valeur. Son livre est écrit sur un ton posé, calme, modeste, qui n'en laisse nullement pressentir l'importance. C'est une sonate pour violon seul : le compositeur s'est délibérément privé de l'éclat des cuivres et des cymbales qui, de gré ou de force, auraient imposé son œuvre à l'oreille du grand public.

La Faculté des Lettres de l'Université de Ljubljana est très honorée de pouvoir présenter au monde des sciences linguistiques, en résumé, les premiers travaux de jeunes chercheurs, actuellement assistants ou chargés de cours près des deux Universités slovenès, de Ljubljana et de Maribor, mais tous issus d'études auprès de la Faculté de l' Université de Ljubljana. Il s 'agit de quatre thèses de doctorat ès sciences, de quatre thèses de troisième cycle et, chose particulièrement précieuse, de deux travaux de licence que les directeurs des études de ces jeunes étudiants ont jugé dignes de publication. Les thèmes traités portent sur les domaines des langues slaves, romanes et germaniques. Méritent une mention particulière les travaux qui embrassent plus d'un seul domain, lorsque le regard du chercheur s'est posé sur la situation en slovène en la comparant, en clé contrastive, avec la situation dans une langue étrangère. La Faculté des Lettres de l'Université de Ljubljana est fière d'avoir pu encourager ces travaux et rendre possible leur publication, grâce aussi à l'aide du Ministere des Sciences et Technologie de la République de Slovénie, lequel avec son soutien financier permet la publication de la revue linguistique. Au nom de la Faculté et en mon nom je souhaite aux jeunes chercheurs beaucoup de succès dans leur carrière scientifique.

Le rêve secret de tout logicien, c’est de prouver un résultat mathématique significatif avec des moyens de fortune; ce rêve se réalise parfois de manière quelque peu biaisée, le théorème obtenu n’étant qu’une version trop simplifiée, ou bien trop adaptée aux besoins de la logique, pour convaincre un mathématicien normal. C’est pour cela que j’annonce d’emblée la couleur, et que je précise les règles du jeu: la version du théorème de Borel-Tits que je vais montrer, concernant les groupes algébriques simples sur un corps de base algébriquement clos, sera considérée comme pratiquement évidente par un géomètre; mais c’est, à mon avis, la seule qui ait un intérêt pour un théoricien des modèles.Quand on entreprend ainsi de redémontrer une version simple d’un résultat par ailleurs bien connu, le seul intérêt est dans la méthode: ce que je veux, ici, c’est présenter une preuve qui n’utilise aucune information, ou presque, sur la structure algébrique de ces groupes; il est même souhaitable d’oublier qu’il s’agit de groupes linéaires! Elle repose sur des résultats généraux concernant les groupes de rang de Morley fini, dus à divers auteurs, dont le principal, Boris Iosifovič Zil′ber, a déjà fait une tentative similaire [Zil′ber 1984]; je poursuis ici cette tentative, mais en me limitant à des arguments encore moins spécifiques au contexte de la géométrie.Si je fais ainsi, ce n’est pas pour donner l’impression que l’unique ambition de la théorie des modèles est de montrer des résultats triviaux par des méthodes triviales.

Si on accepte que la source de droit est le mode de formulation de l'abstraction que constitue le droit, la tentation est grande d'abord de l'ignorer totalement au seul bénéfice de son contenu; le droit lui-même (ou plutôt l'image qu'elle nous en donne). Qu'importe en effet la bouteille; ce qui compte c'est le vin. C'est pourquoi sans doute l'étude des sources du droit est relativement négligée par rapport á celle du droit. A supposer toutefois que l'attention du juriste soit retenue par la source, il est facilement enclin á ne la considérer que dans sa forme (est-elle d'ailleurs autre chose qu'une forme?) comme un objet détaché des éléments justificatifs de sa naissance et, parmi ceux-ci, de son auteur. Existeraient ainsi des coutumes, des lois, des décisions de jurisprudence ou des ouvrages de doctrine, objets matériels reflétant l'alchimie complexe du processus aboutissant au phenomene juridique. Certes la genése de ces objets obéit elle-même á des régies de droit permettant le plus souvent d'en assurer la validité dans un ordre juridiqué déterminé. Nous demeurons ainsi dans le domaine du droit et, frèquemment, l'investigation s'arrête la. L'univers qui sous-tend la source formelle est ignore. Dé meme sont négligés les acteurs de la lutte pour la maîtrise du paysage juridique: le peuple, le prince, le juge ou le savant. Ce sont précisément ces acteurs et ce paysage qui constituent l'essentiel de mon propos. Quant à son cadre géographique, il est forme de l'Afrique non-islamisée contemporaine d'une part, de la France medievale et moderne de l'autre.

Through critical autoethnography, I explore memories with film that I have drawn upon to form hybrid diasporic identifications located in “new ethnicities” that are situated between dominant White racial meanings of home and transnationally informed meanings of homeland. Recalling my memory of watching Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story, I recognize that my identification with Bruce Lee (Jason Scott Lee) and his relationship with Linda Lee Caldwell (Lauren Holly) was situated in my desire for White acceptance, which was manifest in my heterosexual romantic interests in White women. I unravel the ways in which racial isolation and a desire for acceptance and visibility created an internalized politics of desire rooted in dominant racial hierarchies. The second narrative examines my viewing of The Last Present, a Korean film, in a Seoul theater. Seeing a love story centered on a romantically involved Asian man in a relationship with an Asian woman, especially a Korean man and woman, was something I had never previously known, and its presence made visible its absence in my mediated life in the United States. This changed my sense of self, my relationship to dominant culture as part of the Korean diaspora, and my sexual and romantic interests. Because I am in the diaspora, my identification is found in what Hall refers to as new ethnicities, situated in the gaps between the local, dominant culture and transnationally received ethnic, homeland culture.

Poor or pre-prosperous (henceforth will be called poor for the opposite of the wordrich or prosperous) is clearly not an ideal especially the purpose of life, seeing the shock ofadvertisements and electronic cinema that displays thick boundaries between rich-poor certainlyrich more tempting and tantalizing. Fantasy of life Rich men fall in love with poor women apartfrom predictable story lines implying a desire for rich is more highlighted on television.Likewise, the rich who are kind or evil, also against the character of the poor, almost becomedecoration on television. Rich character means to have while poor does not have. In short, inIndonesian television, these two socio-economic identities are always clashed, swiped at thesame time triggering micro commotion. Having various coefficient facilities by laying offconvenience, fame, elite, that is the picture of being rich on television, but it does not mean thatthe opponents of the rich are liable or not figures. main. The film Cemara Family, at least candisturb the established storyline of the confrontation of the rich and the poor. The poor figureplayed by Abah and his family gets the most camera shots about the trinkets of his life.Simplicity is even more to the disadvantages, selling snacks while schooling, a pedicab driver isa picture of Abah's life and family. The question then is to sell poverty on television? or aquestion that requires a more technical answer to how poor can be sold on television?

The idea and the ideal of religious poverty exerted a powerful force throughout the Middle Ages. “Take no gold, or silver, or copper in your belts, no bag for your journey, or two tunics, or sandals, or a staff,” Christ had commanded his apostles. He had sternly warned, “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for someone who is rich to enter into the kingdom of God.” And he had instructed one of the faithful, who had asked what he needed to do to live the most holy sort of life, “if you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give your money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.” Beginning with these biblical injunctions, voluntary poverty, the casting off of wealth and worldly goods for the sake of Christ, dominated much of medieval religious thought. The desire for a more perfect poverty impelled devout men and women to new heights of piety, while disgust with the material wealth of the church fueled reform movements and more radical heresies alike. Often, as so clearly illustrated by the case of the Spiritual Franciscans andfraticelliin the later thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the lines separating devout believer from condemned heretic shifted and even reversed themselves entirely depending on how one understood the religious call to poverty. Moreover, the Christian ideal of poverty interacted powerfully with and helped to shape many major economic, social, and cultural trends in medieval Europe. As Lester Little demonstrated over two decades ago, for example, developing ideals of religious poverty were deeply intermeshed with the revitalizing European economy of the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries and did much to shape the emerging urban spirituality of that period.

O tema da república é um eixo fundamental em torno do qual Nicolau Maquiavel e Jean-Jacques Rousseau desenvolveram suas respectivas reflexões sobre a política, sendo que as obras do escritor florentino serviram de referência para o filósofo de Genebra em diversos momentos. Assim, pretendo abordar algumas das questões chaves que justificam o título de pensadores republicanos atribuído a ambos os autores, enfocando o elo que eles estabeleceram entre a liberdade política e vida cívica possíveis de serem experimentadas somente pelos homens que são membros de uma república bem ordenada. Nesse regime, os indivíduos encontrariam as condições sociais apropriadas para moldar suas identidades de forma a adquirirem a virtude cívica necessária a levá-los a desejarem o bem comum em vez de apenas almejarem seus interesses particulares. Para que isso seja possível, Maquiavel e Rousseau destacaram a importância do trabalho realizado pelos legisladores, sobretudo na fundação dos Estados, quando o estabelecimento de boas instituições políticas requer o recurso à religião para obter o consentimento do povo às leis.Palavras-chave: Rousseau. Maquiavel. República. Legislador. Liberdade civil. Conflitos políticos. ROUSSEAU AND MACHIAVELLI, REPUBLICAN THINKERS Abstract: The theme of the republic is a fundamental axis around which Niccolò Machiavelli and Jean-JacquesRousseau developed their respective reflections on politics, and the works of the Florentine writer served as referencefor the philosopher of Geneva at several times. Thus, I intend to address some of the key issues that justify thetitle of republican thinkers attributed to both authors, by focusing on the link they established between the politicalfreedom and the civic life experienced only by men who are members of a well-ordered republic. In this regime,individuals find the appropriate social conditions for shaping their identities in order to acquire the civic virtue necessaryto lead them to desire the common good rather than just searching for their private interests. To ensure that tobe possible, both Machiavelli and Rousseau emphasized the importance of the work done by legislators, especiallyin the foundation of the State, when the establishment of good political institutions requires the use of religion forobtaining people’s consent to laws.Keywords: Rousseau. Machiavelli. Republic. Legislator. Civil liberty. Political conflicts. ROUSSEAU Y MAQUIAVEL, PENSADORES REPUBLICANOSResumen: El tema de la república es un eje fundamental en torno al cual Nicolau Maquiavel y Jean-Jacques Rousseau desarrollaron sus respectivas reflexiones sobre la política, así que las obras del escritor florentino sirvieron de referencia para el filósofo de Ginebra en varias ocasiones. Así, tengo la intención de abordar algunas de las cuestiones claves que justifican el título de pensadores republicanos asignado a ambos los autores, centrando en la conexión que ellos establecieron entre la libertad política y la vida cívica posibles de ser experimentada sólo por los hombres que son miembros de una república bien ordenada. En este régimen, los individuos encontrarían las condiciones sociales adecuadas a la formación de su identidad con la forma de adquirir la virtud cívica necesaria para llevarlos a desear el bien común y no sólo para buscar sus intereses privados. Para que esto sea posible, Maquiavel y Rousseau destacaron la importancia del trabajo realizado por los legisladores, sobre todo en la fundación del Estado, cuando el establecimiento de buenas instituciones políticas requiere recursos a religión para obtener el consentimiento del pueblo a leyes.Palabras clave: Rousseau. Maquiavel. República. Legislador. Libertad civil. Conflictos políticos.

O tema da república é um eixo fundamental em torno do qual Nicolau Maquiavel e Jean-Jacques Rousseau desenvolveram suas respectivas reflexões sobre a política, sendo que as obras do escritor florentino serviram de referência para o filósofo de Genebra em diversos momentos. Assim, pretendo abordar algumas das questões chaves que justificam o título de pensadores republicanos atribuído a ambos os autores, enfocando o elo que eles estabeleceram entre a liberdade política e vida cívica possíveis de serem experimentadas somente pelos homens que são membros de uma república bem ordenada. Nesse regime, os indivíduos encontrariam as condições sociais apropriadas para moldar suas identidades de forma a adquirirem a virtude cívica necessária a levá-los a desejarem o bem comum em vez de apenas almejarem seus interesses particulares. Para que isso seja possível, Maquiavel e Rousseau destacaram a importância do trabalho realizado pelos legisladores, sobretudo na fundação dos Estados, quando o estabelecimento de boas instituições políticas requer o recurso à religião para obter o consentimento do povo às leis. Palavras-chave: Rousseau. Maquiavel. República. Legislador. Liberdade civil. Conflitos políticos. ROUSSEAU AND MACHIAVELLI, REPUBLICAN THINKERS Abstract: The theme of the republic is a fundamental axis around which Niccolò Machiavelli and Jean-JacquesRousseau developed their respective reflections on politics, and the works of the Florentine writer served as referencefor the philosopher of Geneva at several times. Thus, I intend to address some of the key issues that justify thetitle of republican thinkers attributed to both authors, by focusing on the link they established between the politicalfreedom and the civic life experienced only by men who are members of a well-ordered republic. In this regime,individuals find the appropriate social conditions for shaping their identities in order to acquire the civic virtue necessaryto lead them to desire the common good rather than just searching for their private interests. To ensure that tobe possible, both Machiavelli and Rousseau emphasized the importance of the work done by legislators, especiallyin the foundation of the State, when the establishment of good political institutions requires the use of religion forobtaining people’s consent to laws.Keywords: Rousseau. Machiavelli. Republic. Legislator. Civil liberty. Political conflicts. ROUSSEAU Y MAQUIAVEL, PENSADORES REPUBLICANOS Resumen: El tema de la república es un eje fundamental en torno al cual Nicolau Maquiavel y Jean-Jacques Rousseau desarrollaron sus respectivas reflexiones sobre la política, así que las obras del escritor florentino sirvieron de referencia para el filósofo de Ginebra en varias ocasiones. Así, tengo la intención de abordar algunas de las cuestiones claves que justifican el título de pensadores republicanos asignado a ambos los autores, centrando en la conexión que ellos establecieron entre la libertad política y la vida cívica posibles de ser experimentada sólo por los hombres que son miembros de una república bien ordenada. En este régimen, los individuos encontrarían las condiciones sociales adecuadas a la formación de su identidad con la forma de adquirir la virtud cívica necesaria para llevarlos a desear el bien común y no sólo para buscar sus intereses privados. Para que esto sea posible, Maquiavel y Rousseau destacaron la importancia del trabajo realizado por los legisladores, sobre todo en la fundación del Estado, cuando el establecimiento de buenas instituciones políticas requiere recursos a religión para obtener el consentimiento del pueblo a leyes. Palabras clave: Rousseau. Maquiavel. República. Legislador. Libertad civil. Conflictos políticos.

Introdução: A utilização de métodos contraceptivos é cada vez mais comum entre as mulheres em idade reprodutiva. O desejo de adiar a gestação com o objetivo de priorizar a carreira profissional mostra-se uma realidade das jovens universitárias brasileiras. Estudos recentes que investigam o comportamento sexual feminino, assim como a utilização da contracepção, tem enfoque em populações adolescentes ou mulheres de baixa renda e escolaridade. Estudar a população universitária, portanto, é de grande valia para compreender e melhorar a saúde reprodutiva e integral da mulher. Objetivo: Descrever o perfil de estudantes de uma universidade particular de Curitiba acerca do uso de métodos contraceptivos: averiguar seus efeitos colaterais notáveis, as justificativas para a sua utilização e possíveis relações do uso com a prevenção de infecções sexualmente transmissíveis (IST). Métodos: Trata-se de um estudo observacional transversal, realizado entre agosto e dezembro de 2018, que utilizou um questionário online elaborado pelos pesquisadores, composto por 47 perguntas e aplicado em uma amostra de 1036 universitárias de cursos de diferentes áreas. Resultados: Dentre as acadêmicas participantes da pesquisa 41,6% estavam matriculadas em cursos da área da saúde. A média de idade encontrada foi de 21,2 anos e a m´dia de idade da primeira relação sexual foi de 16,8 anos. Destas, 87,2% tinham vida sexualmente ativa sendo que 92,2% se relacionavam exclusivamente com homens. Relataram usar métodos contraceptivos 83,4% das estudantes, sendo que 79,1% afirmaram usar desde o início da prática sexual. O método mais utilizado foi a pílula anticoncepcional (79,1%) seguido pelo preservativo masculino (37%). Um total de 84,5% assinalou como o principal motivo para o uso de contracepção a prevenção de gravidez. O quarto motivo mais citado foi a prevenção de IST. Na amostra, 6,4% apresentou alguma IST, sendo a mais prevalente o HPV (35,9%). Em relação aos efeitos colaterais após início da utilização da contracepção, 68,7% tiverem redução do fluxo menstrual, 61,2% regularizaram seus ciclos, 29,3% relataram aumento de peso, 22,9% mastalgia, 10,9% náuseas e 0,9% cefaleia. Conclusão: Concluiu-se que, em um meio universitário com mulheres de um nível elevado de escolaridade, os principais métodos de escolha ainda são os de curta duração e que o uso de preservativos precisa ser estimulado para prevenção de IST. Mostrou-se necessário levar informações sobre contracepção mesmo em uma universidade, onde pressupõe-se haver maior esclarecimento.Palavras chave: Anticoncepção, Doenças sexualmente transmissíveis, EstudantesABSTRACT:Introduction: the use of contraceptive methods is increasingly common among women of reproductive age. The desire to postpone pregnancy in order to prioritize professional careers is a reality for young Brazilian university students. Recent studies, which investigate female sexual behavior, as well as the use of contraception, focus on populations of adolescents or women with low income and education. Studying the university population, therefore, is of great value in understanding and improving women’s reproductive and integral health. Objective: To describe the profile of students at a private university in Curitiba regarding the use of contraceptive methods: to ascertain their notable side effects, the justifications for their use and possible relations of use with the prevention of sexually transmitted infections (STIs). Methods: This is a cross-sectional observational study, carried out between August and December 2018, which used an online questionnaire prepared by the researchers, consisting of 47 questions and applied to a sample of 1036 university students from courses in different areas. Results: Among the academic participants in the research, 41.6% were enrolled in health courses. The average age found was 21.2 years and the average age of the first sexual intercourse was 16.8 years. Of these, 87.2% were sexually active and 92.2% were exclusively related to men. 83.4% of students reported using contraceptive methods, 79.1% of whom reported using it since the beginning of sexual practice. The most used method was the contraceptive pill (79.1%) followed by the male condom (37%). A total of 84.5% cited pregnancy prevention as the main reason for using contraception. The fourth most cited reason was STI prevention. In the sample, 6.4% had some STI, the most prevalent was HPV (35.9%). Regarding the side effects after using contraception, 68.7% had reduced menstrual flow, 61.2% regularized their cycles, 29.3% reported weight gain, 22.9% mastalgia, 10.9% nausea and 0.9% headache. Conclusion: It was concluded that, in a university environment with women of a high education level, the main methods of choice are still short-action and that the use of condoms needs to be encouraged to prevent STIs. It proved that it is necessary to take information about contraception even at a university, where it is assumed that there is more clarification.Keywords: Contraception, Sexually transmitted diseases, Students

Este artigo tem como objetivo apresentar um estudo realizado sobre o método em Marx, a partir de algumas de suas publicações e de outros autores que estudaram suas obras. A metodologia utilizada foi pesquisa bibliográfica, por meio de revisão teórica, utilizando os escritos deste autor e de outros. A análise das obras selecionadas permite depreender que os princípios defendidos por Marx se caracterizam na ideia de que a solução para os mistérios especulativos, para os problemas e contradições da ordem social, efetivamente existentes, deve ser buscada por meio de uma reorientação extrema do próprio pensamento, em contraste com as concepções filosóficas do passado, buscando uma forma de abordagem qualitativamente diferente, ou seja, toda investigação teórica deve se focar na prática transformadora relevante aos seus interesses. Para este autor, não importa apenas a interpretação, mas a transformação; e o método cientificamente exato é o último método. O concreto só o é porque sintetiza as múltiplas determinações, isto é, “unidade do diverso”. Por isso o concreto é o processo da síntese, o resultado, e não o ponto de partida, ainda que o seja. Pode-se concluir que a proposta apresentada por Marx supera o dualismo sujeito e objeto na construção do conhecimento. O que ele propõe, é o método como um instrumento de mediação entre o homem que pretende conhecer e o objeto desconhecido, como parte da realidade a ser desvelada. A abstração utilizada pela dialética revela a essência além da aparência. O que importa é o que é abstrato, o que é imediado, ao contrário do que é mediado; é partir do simples para o complexo; do abstrato para o concreto; da parte para o todo; do singular para o universal.Palavras-chave: Método. Materialismo histórico-dialético. Produção científica.THE METHOD IN MARX Abstract: This article aims to present a study about the method in Marx, from some of his publications and other authors who studied his works. The methodology used was a bibliographical research, through theoretical revision, using the writings of this author and others. The analysis of the selected works allows us to understand that the principles defended by Marx characterised in the idea that the solution to the speculative mysteries, to the problems and contradictions of the social order, effectively existing, must be fetched of a reorientation of the extreme own thought, in contrast with the philosophical conceptions of the past, seeking a way to qualitatively different approach, that is, the total theoretical research must focus on the practical transforming relevant to their interests. For this author, not only important to the interpretation, but the transformation; and the scientifically accurate method is the last method. The concrete is only because it summarises the multiple determinations, that is, "unity of different". For this reason the concrete is the process of synthesis, the result and not the point of departure, that is still. It can be concluded that the proposal submitted by Marx surpasses the dualism subject and object in the construction of knowledge. What he proposes, is the method as an instrument of mediation between the man who wants to know and the unknown object, as part of the reality to be unraveled. The abstraction used by dialectic reveals the essence beyond the appearance. The important thing is what is abstract, what is imediated, contrary to what is mediated; is from simple to complex; of abstract for the concrete; the part for the whole; the singular to universal.Keywords: Method. Historical-dialectic materialism. Scientific production. EL MÉTODO DE MARXResumen: Este artículo tiene como objetivo presentar un estudio sobre el método de Marx, de algunas de sus publicaciones y otros autores que han estudiado sus obras. La metodología utilizada fue la literatura, a través de revisión de la literatura, usando los escritos de este autor y otros. El análisis de las obras seleccionadas nos permite concluir que los principios defendidos por Marx caracteriza en la idea de que la solución a la especulación, a los misterios de los problemas y las contradicciones del orden social existente, eficazmente, debe buscarse por medio de una reorientación de la extrema pensamiento propio, en contraste con las concepciones filosóficas del pasado, en busca de una manera cualitativamente diferente enfoque, es decir, toda la investigación teórica debe centrarse en la transformación de prácticas relevantes para sus intereses. Para este autor, no sólo es importante para la interpretación, pero la transformación; y el método científicamente exacto es el último método. El hormigón es sólo porque resume las múltiples determinaciones, es decir, "la unidad de diferentes". Por esta razón, el hormigón es el proceso de síntesis, el resultado y no el punto de partida, sin embargo, quién es. Se puede concluir que la propuesta presentada por Marx supera el dualismo sujeto y objeto en la construcción del conocimiento. Lo que él propone, es el método como un instrumento de mediación entre el hombre que quiere saber y el objeto desconocido, como parte de la realidad de ser develado. La abstracción utilizados por la dialéctica revela la esencia más allá de la apariencia. Lo importante es lo abstracto, qué es imediado, contrariamente a lo que está mediado; es de simple a complejo de abstract para el hormigón; la parte por el todo; lo singular a lo universal.Palabras clave: Método. Materialismo histórico-dialéctico. Producción científica.

L'Église catholique a toujours eu au Québec une telle importance qu'on a été naturellement porté à confondre histoire du Canada français et histoire de l'Église catholique canadienne. Nos orateurs « patriotiques » l'ont souvent rappelé en faisant de la Providence l'explication ultime de l'histoire canadienne : à ce propos, vous me permettrez de citer Mgr Laflèche qui disait en 1865 : « Si les quelques familles sorties de la vieille France il y a quelque deux cents ans, et qui sont venues s'asseoir sur les bords du Saint-Laurent, sont devenues aujourd'hui une nation d'un million d'âmes, ce n'est point l'effet d'un hasard capricieux, ni d'une force aveugle; mais c'est bien l'œuvre d'une Providence toute miséricordieuse. Elle a voulu se servir de nos pères pour apporter la lumière de l'Évangile et les principes de la régénération chrétienne aux infortunées peuplades qui étaient depuis tant de siècles plongées dans les ténèbres de l'infidélité et assises à l'ombre de la mort dans cette belle et fertile vallée. » Nos premiers historiens n'ont pas voulu être en reste et ont cru, avec Parkman et en le répétant à satiété : « Un grand fait se détache en plein relief dans l'histoire du Canada, c'est l'Église de Rome. Plus encore que la puissance royale, elle a modelé le caractère et le destin de cette colonie. Elle a été sa nourrice, et, pour tout dire, sa mère. » Enfin, même les sociologues l'ont reconnu et M. Jean-Charles Falardeau écrivait en 1952: « La société canadienne-française a été, depuis les débuts même de son établissement, à tel point circonscrite, contenue et dominée tout entière par le clergé et les chefs ecclésiastiques, que son histoire se confond en tout point avec celle de l'Église canadienne. [...] L'histoire du Canada français, c'est l'histoire de l'Église au Canada, et réciproquement.» Il ne faut pas se surprendre que la production historique québécoise donne une place privilégiée aux hommes et aux œuvres d'Église. Ne remontons pas au déluge ni au régime français; regardons plutôt le XIXe siècle. Les premiers historiens, même laïcs, font une large part à l'action des missionnaires et du clergé; ils le font ordinairement avec sympathie car, s'ils se permettent la moindre critique du passé clérical, ils s'attirent, comme F.-X. Garneau et Benjamin Suite, les foudres vengeresses des historiens ecclésiastiques. Ceux-ci en effet — Les Ferland, les Casgrain, j'ose dire les Chapais (il ne lui manque que l'habit !) — n'ont pas assez de mots et d'images dithyrambiques pour chanter l'œuvre providentielle en terre d'Amérique. Il y a une exception, l'abbé Brasseur de Bourbourg, qui publie en 1852 son Histoire du Canada, de son Église et de ses missions... où il fait preuve d'un non-conformisme scandaleux: le clergé et surtout les évêques de Québec y passent un mauvais quart d'heure. L'abbé soutient que le choix des évêques par les autorités britanniques eut « pour objet les membres de ce clergé les moins capables de soutenir le poids de l'épiscopat » ; il s'apitoie sur Mgr Hubert tout en racontant méchamment que « dans les derniers temps de son épiscopat, son caractère habituellement faible et indécis, ébranlé encore par les oppositions de toute espèce qu'il avait rencontrées autour de lui, se trouvait réduit à une espèce d'enfance morale, accrue surtout par l'habitude abrutissante des boissons spiritueuses, que le malheureux évêque avait contractée insensiblement pour échapper à la conscience de ses fautes et de son chagrin ». Ces aménités (et d'autres de même farine) avaient fait bondir les « bons bourgeois » de Québec et les Messieurs du Séminaire; et l'abbé Ferland avait répliqué vertement dans ses Observations sur un ouvrage intitulé Histoire du Canada. Avec lui, l'histoire apologétique reprenait le dessus pour longtemps. Plus nuancée peut-être devait être l'œuvre de l'abbé Auguste Gosselin qui esquissa, sans la terminer, une des premières synthèses d'histoire de l'Église catholique au Canada ; elle annonçait les études plus scientifiques du XXe siècle. Pendant toute la première partie du XXe siècle, l'abbé Lionel Groulx domine l'historiographie canadienne-française. Il aborde tous les sujets, de Nos luttes constitutionnelles au Canada français missionnaire, une autre grande aventure ; mais il revient assidûment à l'étude du rôle de l'Église, car pour lui l'enseignement de l'histoire est une forme d'apostolat. Il le dira dans son testament: «... je n'avais choisi, ni ma carrière, ni mon devoir. J'ai accepté le choix qu'en ont fait pour moi mes supérieurs ecclésiastiques. Une autre de mes consolations, ce fut la conscience de travailler pour la survivance du Canada français : petit pays et petit peuple qui parce que catholiques, m'ont toujours paru la grande entité spirituelle en Amérique du Nord.» '' L'abbé Groulx n'est évidemment pas seul, mais il n'est pas question de rappeler, même brièvement, ce qui a pu s'écrire d'intéressant jusqu'en 1950. Je me permets cependant de noter deux événements qui préparent les changements futurs. En 1933 est fondée la Société canadienne d'histoire de l'Église catholique qui chaque année invite ses membres à une session d'étude et publie en un rapport les communications des conférenciers (section française et section anglaise). En quarante ans ont été ainsi publiées des études d'inégale valeur qui forment cependant un ensemble respectable et utile. Si au début la Société sert de tribune à des historiens reconnus, à majorité ecclésiastiques — l'abbé Groulx, Mgr Olivier Maurault, le père Charland, les abbés Maheux et Honorius Provost —, de plus en plus, pendant les dix dernières années, elle attire la collaboration de laïcs et déjeunes historiens. Le deuxième événement que je veux signaler est la fondation, en 1947, de l'Institut d'histoire de l'Amérique française et de la Revue d'histoire de l'Amérique française. Celle-ci veut fournir aux chercheurs « un centre, un foyer où exposer, échanger le fruit de leurs travaux et de leurs recherches ». L'histoire religieuse, comme les autres domaines, en profite beaucoup. Pendant les vingt-cinq premières années, 16.5% des articles sont consacrés à l'histoire religieuse, mais ce pourcentage monte à 22.9% de 1955 à 1963. Il ne faut donc pas se surprendre de trouver dans cette revue un bon nombre des meilleures études sur l'histoire de l'Église canadienne. Elles reflètent aussi l'élan nouveau donné à l'histoire par la fondation des Instituts de Montréal et de Québec. C'est en songeant à ces événements que j'ai choisi de faire un bilan de l'histoire de l'Église à partir de 1950. C'est une tâche immense que rend difficile la multiplication des études et des publications, et aussi l'extrême diversité des thèmes abordés par les historiens. Pour simplifier la présentation, j'aborderai les œuvres en les groupant selon la période qu'elles concernent : le régime français, le XIXe siècle, le XXe siècle.

Toda acción humana genera un impacto en el ambiente. Los bienes de la naturaleza se re–significan cuando la sociedad les asigna el nombre de «recursos». También los modelos productivos implican «recurrir» a estrategias concretas que traen consigo necesarias acciones que producen cambios. Hay permanentes umbrales que establecen el quiebre entre un antes y un después para cada paisaje.La sociedad tiene metas que pone en juego para determinar sus proyectos de desarrollo, particularmente si las mejoras perseguidas involucran al territorio. Cuando nos preguntamos cuáles son esas metas aparece el «mito del Edén»: la respuesta es «vivir», concepto demasiado amplio y complejo que puede simplificarse si lo dividimos en: vivir bien, sano y mucho. Todo modelo productivo se inspira en el trabajo como instancia de transformación (o sea, vivir mejor). Para ello su agente, el hombre, necesita preservarse y perdurar (es decir, vivir sano y mucho).Cuando los especialistas en planeamiento piensan modelos de ordenación territorial para grandes superficies realizan comparaciones de muy diversa factura y concluyen en modelos de síntesis para el presente y sobre el futuro planificado. Se suelen, empero, descuidar los vínculos entre salud, trabajo y ambiente. Estimamos que esta triangulación es importante por lo que se propone una metodología de planificación que tenga en cuenta: a) el estudio de los impactos recíprocos entre salud, ambiente y trabajo; b) el análisis de problemas concretos asociados con la distancia y accesibilidad a lugares de empleo y centros de salud en relación con los espacios de residencia de la población, y c) propiciar un ordenamiento espacial que potencie los vínculos y minimice las dificultades por la relación de estos tres factores. Los puntos destacados merecen tratarse con mayor peso en las estrategias de desarrollo regional que propicien un planeamiento que apunte al desarrollo productivo.Palabras clave: salud; trabajo; desarrollo; ambiente. AbstractHEALTH, WORK AND ENVIROMENT. REGIONAL DEVELOPMENT STRATEGIESEvery human action has an impact on the environment. The society resignifies the goods the nature provides by calling them «resources». Production models also involve taking action that brings necessary changes. There are permanent thresholds that show the difference in time of each landscape.The society has objectives to establish its development projects, and it is particularly interested in improvements that involve the territory. When we wonder which those objectives are, the «myth of Eden» appears: the answer is «to live», a concept too broad and complex that can be simplified if we divide it into: live well, healthy and long. Every production model is inspired by work as an instance of transformation (i.e. live better). In order to accomplish this, the man needs to endure and preserve himself (i.e. live healthy and long).When planning specialists think about spatial models for large areas, they make many comparisons. They conclude synthesis models for the present and the future planned; but they tend to neglect the links between health, labour and environment. We estimate that this triangulation is important, so a planning methodology is proposed to take into account: a) the study of the reciprocal impacts between health, environment and labour; b) the analyses of specific problems associated with distance and accessibility to workplaces and health centres in relation to the spaces of residence of the population, and c) the promotion of a spatial planning to reinforce the links and to minimize the difficulties arisen due to these three factors. The highlights deserve to be treated in depth within regional development strategies that foster a planning point for a productive development.Keywords: health; work; development; enviroment. ResumoSAÚDE, TRABALHO E AMBIENTE. ESTRATÉGIAS DE DESENVOLVIMENTO REGIONALToda ação humana gera um impacto no ambiente. Os bens da natureza obtêm novo significado quando a sociedade lhes dá o nome de «recursos». Também os modelos produtivos implicam «recorrer» a estratégias concretas que trazem ações necessárias, as que produzem mudanças. Há permanentes umbrais que estabelecem o quebre entre um antes e um depois para cada paisagem.A sociedade tem metas que põe em jogo para estabelecer seus projetos de desenvolvimento, particularmente se as melhoras perseguidas envolvem ao território. Quando nos perguntamos quais são aquelas metas aparece o «mito do Éden»: a resposta é «viver», conceito muito amplo e complexo que pode se simplificar, se o dividimos em: viver bem, são e muito. Todo modelo produtivo inspira se no trabalho como instancia de transformação (o seja, viver melhor). Para isso seu agente, o homem, precisa se preservar e perdurar (o seja, viver são e muito).Quando os especialistas em planejamento pensam modelos de ordenação territorial para grandes superfícies realizam comparações de muito diversa fatura e concluem em modelos de síntese para o presente e sobre o futuro planejado. Mas às vezes se descuidam os vínculos entre saúde, trabalho e ambiente. Estimamos que esta triangulação é importante e propõe se uma metodologia de planificação que tomem em conta os pontos a seguir: a) o estudo dos impactos recíprocos entre saúde, ambiente e trabalho; b) o análise de problemas concretos associados à distancia e acessibilidade a lugares de trabalho e centros de saúde com relação aos espaços de residência da população, e c) propiciar um ordenamento espacial que potencie os vínculos e minimize as dificuldades pela relação entre estes três fatores. Os pontos destacados merecem ser tratados com maior peso nas estratégias de desenvolvimento regional que propiciem um planejamento orientado ao desenvolvimento produtivo.Palavras–chave: saúde; trabalho; desenvolvimento; ambiente.

1 Modo de enfoque do problemaTodo e qualquer estudo de direito há de partir não de análises pré-jurídicas ou sociológicas, mas é imperioso que seja ele perquirido à luz do Direito positivo. Despiciendo, daí, todo envolvimento com posições e estudos realizados em outros países, salvo para aprimoramento cultural. Evidente que a análise do Direito comparado passa a interessar se o direito alienígena possuir norma igual ou assemelhada à existente no Direito brasileiro. A menção retrospectiva do direito comparado resultaria inútil, da perspectiva de utilidade prática deste trabalho. Mesmo porque, como assinala Marcelo Caetano “há países onde o expropriado pode requerer a reversão ou retrocessão dos bens, restituindo a indenização recebida, ou o expropriante tem o dever de oferecer os bens ao expropriado mediante a devolução do valor pago" (Princípios fundamentais do Direito Administrativo, 1977, p. 468) enquanto que "noutros países entende-se que, em qualquer caso, a conversão dos bens desapropriados no montante da indenização paga é definitiva. Portanto, nunca haverá lugar a reversão ou retrocessão dos bens” (idem, ibidem). Afigura-se-nos dispensável e sem qualquer utilidade prática a apresentação de uma resenha da doutrina estrangeira a propósito do tema. Apenas será feita menção a alguns autores, na medida em que suas afirmações interessarem à análise. Observe-se, tão-somente que o direito de retrocessão em espécie é reconhecido em diversas legislações. Na Itália há previsão legal (art. 60 da Lei 2.359, de 25.6.1865) o mesmo ocorrendo na França (art. 54 do Dec. 58.997, de 23. 10. 58, que fixa o prazo de 10 anos a contar do decreto de desapropriação para que se requeira a retrocessão). Em Portugal há dispositivo semelhante (art. 8 º da Lei 2 .030, de 22.6.48); o que acontece também na Espanha (art. 54 da Lei de 15. 12. 54) e na Alemanha (Lei de 23. 2.57, em seu § 102) Demais de tal inicial observação, perigoso é o estudo de qualquer instituto jurídico atrelado à lei. Impõe-se a análise de determinado instituto a partir da Constituição. Daí inicia-se o estudo da retrocessão. 2 Desapropriação. Desvio de poderDispõe o § 22 do art. 153 da Lei Maior "que é assegurado o direito de propriedade, salvo o caso de desapropriação por necessidade ou utilidade pública ou por interesse social, mediante previa e justa indenização em dinheiro...”. Assegura-se o direito de propriedade que cede apenas, ante o interesse coletivo, representado pelo Estado. Ao mesmo tempo em que garante a propriedade, a Constituição assegura ao Estado o poder de retirá-la mediante desapropriação. Esta pode ser entendida como "o procedimento administrativo através do qual o Poder Público compulsoriamente despoja alguém de uma propriedade e a adquire para si, mediante indenização, fundada em um interesse público" (Elementos de Direito Administrativo, Celso Antônio Bandeira de Mello, 1980, p. 188). Caracteriza-se a desapropriação pela retirada compulsória do bem do domínio particular, com sua transferência ao domínio público, sob fundamento de interesse público mediante indenização. O fulcro da permissão legal para a transferência do domínio é o interesse público, ou seja, finalidade prevista no próprio ordenamento jurídico a ser perseguido pelo Estado. Sob a rubrica interesse público albergam-se todos os conteúdos possíveis de utilidade coletiva desde que alcançados pelo sistema de normas (sob o rótulo interesse público acolhe-se a necessidade ou utilidade pública e o interesse social). O poder de desapropriação deflui do domínio eminente que possui o Poder Público sobre todas as coisas materiais e imateriais sujeitas ao âmbito espacial de validade do sistema jurídico. O poder de desapropriação pode ser decomposto em três aspectos: a) transferência compulsória de alguma coisa; b) mediante indenização e c) sob o fundamento de interesse público. A desapropriação, como forma originária de aquisição de domínio, implica na compulsoriedade da transferência do bem do domínio particular para o público. Sempre haverá indenização, devidamente apurada através do processo próprio ou mediante acordo de vontades. E, o que mais nos interessa, há que vir fundamentada em interesse público, sob pena de invalidade. A competência, no Direito, não é dada a qualquer título. Sempre é outorgada a determinado agente para que persiga interesses coletivos ou mais propriamente denominados públicos, sendo estes apurados pela análise de todo o sistema de normas. A visão completa da competência apenas pode ser entrevista, pois, em contraste com a finalidade descrita na norma legal. Desviando-se o agente administrativo dos fins que lhe foram traçados pelo sistema de normas, incide no desvio de poder (ou de finalidade, como dizem alguns). 3 Conceito de retrocessãoA retrocessão implica no direito do expropriado de retomar a propriedade do imóvel que lhe fora retirada compulsoriamente pelo Poder Público. Os léxicos consignam que "retrocessão é o ato pelo qual o adquirente de um bem transfere de volta a propriedade desse bem àquele de quem o adquiriu" (Novo Dicionário Aurélio, lª ed., p. 1.231). Assinala Oliveira Cruz que "a retrocessão é um instituto de Direito Público, destinado a fazer voltar ao domínio do desapropriado os bens que saíram do seu patrimônio, por efeito de uma desapropriação por utilidade pública" (Da desapropriação, p. 119). E, acrescenta que "a retrocessão tem, indiscutivelmente, uma feição real porque significa um direito que só se desliga do imóvel quando preenchidos os fins determinantes da desapropriação" (ob. cit., p. 121). Assim entendida a retrocessão, como defluente do próprio preceito constitucional que assegura a propriedade e resguarda sua retirada apenas e exclusivamente pela desapropriação por necessidade, utilidade pública ou interesse social, não há como confundi-la com a preempção ou prelação, ou assimilá-la a qualquer tipo de direito pessoal. A fixação de tal premissa é fundamental para todo o desenvolvimento do trabalho e para alicerçar as conclusões que serão apontadas ao final. Daí porque não se pode concordar com a assertiva feita por alguns autores de que se cuida de simples obrigação imposta ao Poder Público de oferecer ao ex-proprietário o bem que lhe desapropriou, se este não tiver o destino para o qual fora expropriado (Múcio de Campos Maia, "Ensaio sobre a retrocessão", in RDA, 34/1-11). Pela própria dúvida no conteúdo do conceito, já os autores manifestaram-se surpresos e a jurisprudência claudicou sobre a análise do tema. Muitos julgados, inclusive, chegaram a admitir a inexistência da retrocessão no Direito brasileiro. Mas, pela análise que será feita e pelas conclusões a que se chegará, ver-se-á não só da existência do instituto no Direito brasileiro, sendo despicienda a indagação do Direito Civil a respeito, defluindo o instituto da só análise do texto constitucional brasileiro. A retrocessão é mero corolário do direito de propriedade, constitucionalmente consagrado e decorre do direito emergente da não utilização do bem desapropriado para o fim de interesse público. Sob tal conteúdo é que o conceito será analisado. 4 Desenvolvimento histórico, no BrasilEm estudo sobre o aspecto histórico do desenvolvimento da retrocessão no Direito brasileiro Ebert Chamoun escreveu que o inc. XXII do art. 179 da Constituição do Império, de 25. 3. 1824 dispôs sobre a possibilidade da desapropriação. E a Lei provincial 57, de 18.3.1836 pela vez primeira cuidou da retrocessão, assegurando que, na hipótese de desapropriação caberia "recurso à Assembleia Legislativa provincial para a restituição da propriedade ... " A admissibilidade da retrocessão foi aceita pelo STF que assim deixou decidido: “que abrindo a mesma Constituição à plenitude o direito de propriedade no art. 72, § 17, a exceção singular da desapropriação por utilidade pública presumida, desde a certeza de não existir tal necessidade, o ato de desapropriação se equipara a violência (V) e deve se rescindir mediante ação do espoliado" (O Direito, vol. 67, 1895, p. 47). A referência é à Constituição republicana de 24.2.1891. Em sua Nova Consolidação das Leis Civis vigentes em 11 de agosto de 1899, Carlos de Carvalho escrevia o art. 855 "se verificada a desapropriação, cessar a causa que a determinou ou a propriedade não for aplicada ao fim para o qual foi desapropriada, considera-se resolvida a desapropriação, e o proprietário desapropriado poderá reivindicá-la". Diversas leis cuidaram do assunto, culminando com a edição do art. 1.150 do CC (LGL\2002\400) que dispôs: ''A União, o Estado, ou o Município, oferecerá ao ex-proprietário o imóvel desapropriado, pelo preço por que o foi, caso não tenha o destino para que se desapropriou". Criou-se, assim, o direito de preempção ou preferência, como cláusula especial à compra e venda. As Constituições que se seguiram igualmente asseguraram o direito de propriedade (a de 1934, no art. 113, 17; a de 1937, no art. 122, 14; a de 1946, no § 16 do art. 141). A Constituição de 1967 igualmente protegeu, juridicamente, a propriedade, permanecendo a garantia com a EC 1/69. 5 Hipóteses de retrocessãoO instituto da retrocessão foi bem analisado por Landi e Potenza quando escrevem que "fatta l'espropriazione, se l'opera non siasi eseguita, e siano trascorsi i termini a tal uopo concessi o prorogati, gli espropriati potranno domandare che sia dall'autorità giudiziaria competente pronunciata la decadenza dell'ottenuta dichiarazione di pubblica utilità, e siano loro restituiti i beni espropriati. In altri termini, la mancata esecuzione dall'opera dimostra l'insussistenza dell’interesse pubblico, che aveva determinato l'affievolimento del diritto di proprietà" (Manuale di Diritto Amministrativo, 1960, p. 501). Mas não é só a falta de destinação do bem a interesse público ou a não construção da obra para que teria sido o imóvel desapropriado que implica na possibilidade de retrocessão, afirmam os autores citados. Também no caso em que ''l'opera pubblica sia stata eseguita: ma qualche fondo, a tal fine espropriato, non abbia ricevuto in tutto o in parte la prevista destinazione" (ob. cit., p. 501). A retrocessão, pois, deflui, do que se lê da lição dos autores transcritos, na faculdade de o expropriado reaver o próprio bem declarado de utilidade pública, - quando lhe tenha sido dado destinação diversa da declarada no ato expropriatório ou não lhe tenha sido dada destinação alguma. De outro lado, esclarece André de Laubadere que "si l'immeuble exproprié ne reçoit pas la destination prévue dans la déclaration d'utilité publique, il est juste que le propriétaire exproprié puisse le récupérer. C'est l'institution de la rétrocession" (Traité deDroit Administratif, 6." ed., 2. 0 vol., p. 250). No direito brasileiro, os conceitos são praticamente uniformes. Eurico Sodré entende que "retrocessão é o direito do ex-proprietário de reaver o imóvel desapropriado, quando este não tenha tido utilização a que era destinado" (A desapropriação por necessidade ou utilidade pública, 1928, pp. 85-86). Firmino Whitaker afirma que "é direito que tem o ex-proprietário de readquirir o imóvel desapropriado mediante a restituição do valor recebido, quando não tenha sido o mesmo imóvel aplicado em serviço de ordem pública" (Desapropriação, 3ª ed., p. 23, 1946). Cretella Junior leciona que "é o direito do proprietário do imóvel desapropriado de reavê-lo ou de receber perdas e danos, pelos prejuízos sofridos, sempre que ocorrer inaproveitamento, cogitação de venda ou desvio de poder do bem expropriado" (Comentários às leis de desapropriação, 2.ª ed., 2.ª tiragem, 1976, p. 409). Fazendo a distinção prevista por Landi e Potenza, escreve Marienhoff que "la retrocesión, en cambio, sólo puede tener lugar en las dos siguientes hipótesis: a) cuando, después de la cesión amistosa o avenimiento, o después de terminado el juicio de expropiación, el expropiante afecta el bien o cosa a un destino diferente del tenido en cuenta por el legislador ai disponer la expropiación y hacer la respectiva calificación de utilidad publica; b) cuando efectuada la cesión amistosa o avenimiento, o terminado el juicio de expropiación, y transcurrido cierto plazo el expropiante no le dá al bien o cosa destino alguno" (Tratado de Derecho Administrativo, T. IV, 2ª ed., p. 369). Embora os autores costumem distinguir as hipóteses de cabimento da retrocessão, parece-nos que no caso de o Poder Público alterar a finalidade para que houvera decretado a desapropriação não existe o direito à retrocessão. Isto porque a Constituição Federal como já se viu, alberga no conceito "interesse público" a mais polimorfa gama de interesses. Assim, se desapropriado imóvel para a construção de uma escola, mas constrói-se um hospital, não nos parece ter havido "desvio de poder" ou de "finalidade". Simplesmente houve desvio do fim imediato, mas perdura o fim remoto. O interesse público maior, presente no ordenamento jurídico ficou atendido. Simplesmente, por interesses imediatos do Poder Público, mas sempre dentro da competência outorgada pela legislação, o agente entendeu de dar outra destinação à coisa expropriada. Em tal hipótese, não parece ter havido desvio de poder, hábil a legitimar a retrocessão. De tal sentir é Celso Antônio Bandeira de Mello quando afirma "convém ressaltar enfaticamente, contudo, que a jurisprudência brasileira pacificou-se no entendimento de que se o bem desapropriado para uma específica finalidade for utilizado em outra finalidade pública, não há vício algum que enseje ao particular ação de retrocessão (tal como é concebida hoje), considerando que, no caso, inexistiu violação do direito de preferência" (ob. cit., p. 210). Cita o autor a jurisprudência mencionada (RDP, 2/213, 3/242 e em RDA, 88/158 e 102/188). A doutrina é remançosa em afirmar a possibilidade de ser o bem empregado em outra finalidade diversa da alegada no decreto expropriatório ou na lei, desde que também de utilidade pública (Adroaldo Mesquita da Costa, in RDA, 93 /377; Alcino Falcão, Constituição Anotada, vol. II, pp. 149/SO; Carlos Maximiliano, Comentários à Constituição Brasileira, 1954, vol. III, p. 115; Diogo Figueiredo Moreira Neto, Curso de Direito Administrativo, vol. 2, p. 116; Ebert Chamoun, Da retrocessão nas desapropriações, pp. 74 e ss.; Hely Lopes Meirelles, Direito Administrativo Brasileiro, 2.ª ed., p. 505; Pontes de Miranda, Comentários à Constituição de 1967, com a Emenda Constituição n.º 1, de 1969, T. V, pp. 445/6; Cretella Junior, Tratado de Direito Administrativo, vol. IX, pp. 165/6). A jurisprudência a respeito é farta (RTJ, 39/495, 42/195 e 57 /46). Mais recentemente decidiu-se que "não cabe retrocessão quando o imóvel expropriado tem destino diverso, vias de utilidade pública" (RDA, 127 /440). Poucos autores manifestam-se em sentido contrário, ou seja, pela inadmissibilidade de aplicação do destino do bem em outra finalidade que não a invocada no decreto ou lei que estipula a desapropriação (Hélio Moraes de Siqueira, A retrocessão nas desapropriações, p. 61 e Miguel Seabra Fagundes, Da desapropriação no Direito brasileiro, 1949, p. 400). Tais indicações foram colhidas na excelente Desapropriação – Indicações de Doutrina e Jurisprudência de Sérgio Ferraz, pp. 122/124. Já diversa é a consequência quando o imóvel não é utilizado para qualquer fim, ficando ele sem destinação específica, implicando, praticamente, no abandono do imóvel. Daí surge, realmente, o problema da retrocessão. Mas, emergem questões prévias a serem resolvidas. Como se conta o prazo, se é que há, para que se legitime o expropriado, ativamente? Em consequência da solução a ser dada à questão anterior, cuida-se a retrocessão de direito real ou pessoal, isto é, a não utilização do bem expropriado enseja reivindicação ou indenização por perdas e danos? Estas questões são cruciais e têm atormentado os juristas. Passemos a tentar equacioná-las. 6 Momento do surgimento do direito de retrocessãoEntende Cretella Júnior que há dois momentos para que se considere o nascimento do direito de ingressar com a ação de retrocessão. Mediante ato expresso ou por ato tácito. "Mediante ato expresso, que mencione a desistência do uso da coisa expropriada e notifique o ex-proprietário de que pode, por ação própria, exercer o direito de retrocessão" (Comentários às leis de desapropriação, p. 415) ou através de ato tácito, ou seja, pela conduta da Administração que permita prever a desistência de utilização do bem expropriado, possibilitando ao antigo proprietário o exercício do direito de preferência...” (ob. cit., p. 416). De igual teor a lição de Eurico Sodré, A desapropriação por necessidade ou utilidade pública, 2.ª ed., p. 289. A jurisprudência já se manifestou em tal sentido (RTJ, 57 /46). Ebert Chamoun (ob. cit., pp. 80 e ss.) entende que apenas por ato inequívoco da administração tem cabimento a ação de retrocessão. Jamais se poderia julgar pela procedência da ação que visasse a retrocessão, desde que o Poder Público alegue que ainda vá utilizar o bem. Afirma o citado autor que "é assim, necessário frisar que o emprego, pelo expropriante do bem desapropriado para fim de interesse público não precisa ser imediato. Desde que ele consiga demonstrar que o interesse público ainda é presente e que a destinação para esse escopo foi simplesmente adiada, porque não é oportuna, exequível ou aconselhável, deve ser julgado improcedente o pedido de indenização do expropriado, com fundamento no art. 1.150 do CC (LGL\2002\400)" (ob. cit., p. 84). De igual teor a lição de Pontes de Miranda (Comentários. T. V, p. 445). Celso Antonio Bandeira de Mello tem posição intermediária. Afirma que "a obrigação do expropriante de oferecer o bem em preferência nasce no momento em que este desiste de aplicá-lo à finalidade pública. A determinação exata deste momento há que ser verificada em cada caso. Servirá como demonstração da desistência, a venda, cessão ou qualquer ato dispositivo do bem praticado pelo expropriante em favor de terceiro. Poderá indicá-la, também, a anulação do plano de obras em que se calcou o Poder Público para realizar a desapropriação ou outros fatos congêneres" (ob. cit., p. 209). A propósito, já se manifestou o STF que "o fato da não utilização da coisa expropriada não caracteriza, só por si, independentemente das circunstâncias. desvio do fim da desapropriação" (RTJ. 57/46). Do mesmo teor o acórdão constante da RDA, 128/395. 7 Prazo a respeito. AnalogiaOutros autores entendem que há um prazo de cinco anos para que o Poder Público destine o imóvel à finalidade Pública para que efetuou a desapropriação. Assim se manifestam Noé Azevedo (parecer in RT 193/34) e Seabra Fagundes (ob. cit., pp. 397 /8). O prazo de cinco anos é já previsto na doutrina francesa. Afirma Laubadere que "si les immeubles expropriés n'ont pas reçu dans le délai de cinq ans la destination prévue ou ont cessé de recevoir cette destination, les anciens propriétaires ou leurs ayants droit à titre universel peuvent en demander la rétrocession dans un délai de trente ans à compter également de l'ordonance d'expropriation, à moins que l'expropriant ne requère une nouvelle déclaration d'utilité publique" (ob. cit., p. 251). Tal orientação encontra por base o art. 10 do Dec.-lei 3.365/41 (LGL\1941\6) que estabelece: "a desapropriação deverá efetivar-se mediante acordo ou intentar-se judicialmente dentro de cinco anos, contados da data da expedição do respectivo decreto e findos os quais este caducará". Claro está que não tendo a lei previsto o direito à retrocessão, o intérprete há de buscar a solução para o problema (interpretação prudencial) dentro do próprio sistema normativo, para suprir ou colmatar a lacuna (a propósito deste tema, especificamente, veja se nosso "Lacuna e sistema normativo", in RJTJSP, 53/13-30). Esta surge no momento da decisão. Como todo problema jurídico gira em torno da decidibilidade, admite-se a interpretação analógica ao se entender que o prazo para que o Poder Público dê ao imóvel destinação específica ou outra permitida pelo direito (finalidade prevista no ordenamento) igualmente será o prazo de cinco anos. Neste, caduca o interesse público. Daí legitimar-se o expropriado a ingressar com a ação de retrocessão. Caso se entenda da inadmissibilidade de fixação de prazo, deixar-se-á à sorte o nascimento do direito ou, então, como pretende Cretella Junior, à manifestação volitiva do Poder Público decidir sobre a oferta do imóvel a alguém, com o que caracterizaria expressamente a vontade de alienar ou dispor do imóvel. Nunca haveria um prazo determinado, com o que padeceria a relação jurídica de segurança e estabilidade. Permaneceria o expropriado eternamente à disposição do Poder Público e perduraria, constantemente, e em suspense, até que a Administração decida como e quando destinará ou desafetará o imóvel. A solução que se nos afigura mais compatível com a realidade brasileira é a de se fixar o prazo de cinco anos, por aplicação analógica com o art. 10, retro citado. Está evidente que a só inércia não caracteriza a presunção do desvio. Se a Administração desapropria sem finalidade pública, o ato pode ser anulado, mesmo sem o decurso do prazo de cinco anos. Mas, aqui, o fundamento da anulação do ato seria outro e não se cuidaria do problema específico da retrocessão. 8 Natureza do direito à retrocessãoDiscute-se, largamente, sobre a natureza do direito à retrocessão. Para uns seria direito pessoal e eventual direito resolver-se-ia em indenização por perdas e danos. Para outros, cuida-se de direito real e, pois, há possibilidade de reivindicação. Magnífica resenha de opiniões é feita por Sérgio Ferraz em seu trabalho Desapropriação, pp. 117/121. Dentre alguns nomes que se manifestam pelo reconhecimento de que se cuida de direito pessoal e, pois, enseja indenização por perdas e danos encontram-se Ebert Chamoun (ob. cit., p. 31), Cretella Junior (Tratado . . ., vol. IX, pp. 159, 333/4), Múcio de Campos Maia ("ensaio sobre a retrocessão ", in RT 258/49). A jurisprudência já se tem manifestado neste sentido (RDA, 98/ 178 e 106/157). A propósito da pesquisa jurisprudencial, veja-se, também, o repertório de Sergio Ferraz. A solução apontada pelos autores encontra fundamento no art. 35 do Dec.-lei 3.365/41 (LGL\1941\6) ao estabelecer que "os bens expropriados, uma vez incorporados à Fazenda Pública, não podem ser objeto de reivindicação, ainda que fundada em nulidade do processo de desapropriação. Qualquer ação julgada procedente, resolver-se-á em perdas e danos". Com base em tal artigo afirma Ebert Chamoun que "o direito do expropriado não é, evidentemente, um direito real, porque o direito real não se contrapõe, jamais, um mero dever de oferecer. E, por outro lado, se o expropriante não perde a propriedade, nem o expropriado a adquire, com o simples fato da inadequada destinação, é óbvio que a reivindicação que protege o direito de domínio, e que incumbe apenas ao proprietário, o expropriado não pode ter" (ob. cit., pp. 38/39). Mais adiante afirma que "o direito do ex-proprietário perante o poder desapropriante que não deu à coisa desapropriada o destino de utilidade pública, permanece, portanto, no direito positivo brasileiro, como direito nítido e irretorquivelmente pessoal, direito que não se manifesta em face de terceiros , eventuais adquirentes da coisa, nem ela adere, senão exclusivamente à pessoa do expropriante. Destarte, o poder desapropriante, apesar de desrespeitar as finalidades da desapropriação, desprezando os motivos constantes do decreto desapropriatório, não perde a propriedade da coisa expropriada, que ele conserva em sua Fazenda com as mesmas características que possuía quando da sua. aquisição" (ob. cit., pp. 44/45). Em abono de sua orientação invoca o dispositivo mencionado e afirma "quaisquer dúvidas que ainda houvesse acerca da natureza do direito do expropriado seriam espancadas por esse preceito, límpido e exato, consectário perfeito dos princípios gerais do nosso direito positivo, dispositivo que se ajusta, como luva, ao sistema jurídico brasileiro relativo à aquisição de propriedade, à preempção e à desapropriação" (ob. cit., p. 47). De outro lado, autores há que entendem cuidar-se de direito real. Dentre eles Hely Lopes Meirelles (Direito Administrativo Brasileiro, 2.ª ed., p. 505), Seabra Fagundes (ob. cit., p. 397), Noé Azevedo (parecer citado, in RT, 193/34), Pontes de Miranda (Comentários . . . ", T. V, pp. 443/6 e Vicente Ráo (O direito e a vida dos direitos, 2.ª ed., p. 390, nota 113). Apontam-se, também, diversos julgados (RDA, 48/231 e 130/229). 9 Crítica às posiçõesRealmente não se confundem as disposições do art. 1.149 com o art. 1.150 do CC (LGL\2002\400). O primeiro refere-se a pacto de compra e venda e tem por pressuposto a venda ou a dação em pagamento. Implica manifestação volitiva, através de contrato específico, em que se tem por base a vontade livre dos negócios jurídicos, assim exigida para validade do contrato. Já o art. 1.150 constitui norma de Direito Público, pouco importando sua inserção no Código Civil (LGL\2002\400) (Pontes de Miranda, Tratado de Direito Privado, T. XIV, 2.ª ed., § 1.612, p. 172). Em sendo assim, a norma do art. 1.150 do CC (LGL\2002\400) que determina o oferecimento do imóvel desapropriado ao ex-proprietário para o exercício do direito de preferência não está revogada. Mas, daí não se conclui que há apenas o direito de prelação. Diverso é nosso entendimento. Pelo artigo referido, obriga-se a Administração a oferecer o imóvel (é obrigação imposta à Administração), mas daí não pode advir a consequência de que caso não oferecido o imóvel, não há direito de exigi-lo. A norma não é unilateral em prol do Poder Público. De outro lado, surge a possibilidade de exigência por parte do expropriado. E a tal exigência dá-se o nome de retrocessão. Superiormente ensina Hélio Moraes de Siqueira que "entretanto, não é na lei civil que se encontra o fundamento da retrocessão. Aliás, poder-se-ia, quando muito, vislumbrar os lineamentos do instituto. É na Constituição Federal que a retrocessão deita raízes e recebe a essência jurídica que a sustém. Mesmo se ausente o preceito no Código Civil (LGL\2002\400), a figura da retrocessão teria existência no direito brasileiro, pois é consequência jurídica do mandamento constitucional garantidor da inviolabilidade da propriedade, ressalvada a desapropriação por utilidade e necessidade pública e de interesse social, mediante prévia e justa indenização em dinheiro" (ob. cit., pp. 76/77). Idêntico entendimento deve ser perfilhado. Realmente, despiciendo é que o art. 35 do Dec.-lei 3.365/41 (LGL\1941\6) tenha estabelecido que "os bens expropriados, uma vez incorporados à Fazenda Pública, não podem ser objeto de reivindicação, ainda que fundada em nulidade do processo de desapropriação. Qualquer ação, julgada procedente, resolver-se-á em perdas e danos". A lei não pode mudar a norma constitucional que prevê a possibilidade da desapropriação sob fundamento de interesse público. O interesse público previsto na Constituição Federal é concretizado através das manifestações da Administração, em atos administrativos, possuindo, como condição de sua validade e de sua higidez o elemento finalidade ("finalidade-elemento teleológico contido no sistema. Conjunto de atribuições assumidas pelo Estado e encampadas pelo ordenamento jurídico", cf. nosso Ato Administrativo, ed. 1978, p. 48). Destina-se a finalidade a atender aos interesses públicos previstos no sistema normativo. Há por parte do agente administrativo emanador do ato, a aferição valorativa do interesse manifestado no decreto. É pressuposto lógico da emanação de qualquer ato administrativo que a competência do agente seja exercitada em direção a alcançar os objetivos ou os valores traçados no sistema de normas. Tal aferição valorativa é realizada no momento da expedição do ato. No decurso de certo tempo, pode desaparecer o interesse então manifestado. Mas, tal reconhecimento do desinteresse não pertence apenas à Administração Pública, mas também ao expropriado que pode provocá-lo, mediante ação direta. A Administração Pública, pela circunstância de ter adquirido o domínio da coisa expropriada, não fica isenta de demonstrar a utilidade da coisa ou a continuidade elo interesse público em mantê-la. Desaparecendo o interesse público, o que pode acontecer por vontade expressa da Administração, ou tacitamente, pelo decurso do prazo de cinco anos, contados dos cinco anos seguintes à transferência de domínio, que se opera pelo registro do título aquisitivo, que é a carta de adjudicação mediante prévio pagamento do preço fixado, nasce ao expropriado o direito de reaver a própria coisa. Trata-se de direito real, porque a perquirição da natureza do direito não deflui do momento atual do reconhecimento da desnecessidade da coisa, mas remonta ao momento do ato decretatório da utilidade pública. Já disse alhures (Ato Administrativo, pp. 122 e ss.) que a nulidade ou o ato inválido não prescreve. No caso a prescrição alcança o expropriado no prazo de cinco anos, contados do término dos cinco anos anteriores ao termo final do prazo de presunção da desnecessidade do imóvel. Explicando melhor: o Poder Público tem cinco anos, contados da data da aquisição da propriedade, que opera pelo registro da carta de adjudicação no Cartório do Registro de Imóveis competente, ou mediante registro da escritura pública lavrada por acordo das partes, no mesmo Cartório, para dar destinação específica, tal como declarada no decreto expropriatório ou outra destinação, havida como de interesse público. Passado tal prazo, abre-se ao expropriado o direito de haver a própria coisa, também pelo prazo de Cinco anos, nos termos do Dec. 20.910/32 (LGL\1932\1). A propósito já se decidiu que "a prescrição da ação de retrocessão, visando às perdas e danos, começa a correr desde o momento em que o expropriante abandona, inequivocamente, o propósito de dar, ao imóvel, a destinação expressa na declaração de utilidade pública" (PDA, 69/ 200). Ausente a utilidade pública, seja no momento da declaração, seja posteriormente. o ato deixa de ter base legal. Como afirma José Canasi, "la retrocesión tiene raiz constitucional implicita y surge del concepto mismo de utilidade publica. No se concibe una utilidad publica que puede desaparecer o deformarse a posteriori de la expropriación. Seria un engano o una falsidad" (La retrocesión en la Expropiación Publica, p. 47). Rejeita-se o raciocínio de que o expropriado, não sendo mais proprietário, falece-lhe o direito de pleitear reivindicação. Tal argumento serviria, também, para &e rejeitar a existência de direito pessoal. Isto porque, se o ex-proprietário já recebeu, de acordo com a própria Constituição Federal a justa indenização pela tomada compulsória de seu imóvel, nenhum direito teria mais. Não teria sentido dar-se nova indenização ao ex-proprietário, de vez que o Poder Público já lhe pagara toda quantia justa e constitucionalmente exigida para a composição do patrimônio desfalcado pela perda do imóvel. Aí cessaria toda relação criada imperativamente, pelo Poder Público. Inobstante, a pretensão remonta à edição do ato. O fundamento do desfazimento do decreto expropriatório reside exatamente na inexistência do elemento finalidade que deve sempre estar presente nas manifestações volitivas da Administração Pública. Demais, cessado o interesse público subsistente no ato expropriatório, a própria Constituição Federal determina a persistência da propriedade. A nosso ver, a discussão sobre tratar-se de direito real ou pessoal é falsa. Emana a ação da própria Constituição, independentemente da qualificação do direito. Ausente o interesse público, deixa de existir o fundamento jurídico da desapropriação. Logo, não podem subsistir efeitos jurídicos de ato desqualificado pelo ordenamento normativo. Trata-se de direito real, no sentido adotado por Marienhoff quando afirma que "desde luego, trátase de una acción real de "derecho público", pues pertenece al complejo jurídico de la expropiación, institución exclusivamente de derecho público, segun quedó dicho en un parágrafo precedente (n. 1.293). No se trata, pues, de una acción de derecho comun, ni regulada por este. El derecho privado nada tiene que hacer al respecto. Finalmente, la acción de retrocesión, no obstante su carácter real, no trasunta técnicamente el ejercicio de una acción reivindicatoria, sino la impugnación a una expropiación donde la afectación del bien o cosa no se hizo al destino correspondiente, por lo que dicha expropiación resulta en contravención con la garantia de inviolabilidad de propiedad asegurada en la Constitución. La acción es "real" por la finalidad que persigue: reintegro de un bien o cosa" (Tratado de Derecho Administrativo, vol. IV, p. 382, n. 1.430). De igual sentido a orientação traçada no Novíssimo Digesto Italiano, onde se afirma que "per tale disciplina deve escludersi che il diritto alla retrocessione passa considerarsi un diritto alla risoluzione del precedente trasferimento coattivo, esso e stato definito un diritto legale di ricompera, ad rem (non in rem) (ob. cit., voce - espropriazione per pubblica utilità", vol. VI, p. 950). Recentemente o Supremo Tribunal Federal decidiu que "o expropriado pode pedir retrocessão, ou readquirir o domínio do bem expropriado, no caso de não lhe ter sido dado o destino que motivou a desapropriação" (RDA 130/229). No mesmo sentido o acórdão constante da "Rev. Trim. de Jur.", vol. 104/468-496, rel. Min. Soares Muñoz. 10 Transmissibilidade do direito. Não se cuida de direito personalíssimoAdmitida a existência da retrocessão no Direito brasileiro in specie, ou seja, havendo a possibilidade de reaquisição do imóvel, e rejeitando-se frontalmente, a solução dada pela jurisprudência de se admitir a indenização por perdas e danos, de vez que, a nosso ver, há errada interpretação do art. 35 do Dec.-lei 3.365/41 (LGL\1941\6), surge a questão também discutida se o direito à retrocessão é personalíssimo, ou é transmissível, causa mortis. Pela negativa manifestam-se Ebert Chamoun (ob. cit., p. 68), Eurico Sodré (ob. cit., p. 76), Hely Lopes Meirelles (ob. cit., p. 505) e Pontes de Miranda (ob. cit., p. 446). Em sentido oposto Hélio Moraes de Siqueira (ob. cit., p. 64) e Celso Antônio Bandeira de Mello (oh. cit., p. 210). A jurisprudência tem se manifestado favoravelmente à transmissão do direito de retrocessão (RTJ 23/169, 57 / 46 e 73/155). Inaplicável no Direito Público o art. 1.157 do CC (LGL\2002\400). Disciplina ele relações de particulares, devidamente ajustado ao art. 1.149 que, como se viu anteriormente, cuida, também, de manifestações volitivas. Já, a desapropriação implica na tomada compulsória do domínio dos particulares, em decorrência de ato imperativo (tal como por nós conceituado a fls. 29 do Ato Administrativo). A imperatividade implica em manifestação de poder, ou seja, na possibilidade que goza o Poder Público de interferir na esfera jurídica alheia, por força jurídica própria. Já nas relações particulares, estão estes no mesmo nível; quando intervém o Estado o relacionamento é vertical e não horizontal. Daí porque o referido dispositivo legal não tem aplicação ao tema em estudo. O TJSP já deixou decidido que "os sucessores do proprietário têm direito de ser indenizados, no caso de o expropriante do imóvel expropriado não se utilizar deste, e procurar aliená-lo a terceiros, sem mesmo oferecê-lo àqueles (RT 322/193). Rejeitando, apenas o direito de preferência, de vez que entendendo a retrocessão como espécie de direito real, aceita-se a argumentação da transmissibilidade da ação. No mesmo sentido a orientação do Supremo Tribunal Federal (RTJ 59/631). As ações personalíssimas são de interpretação estrita. Apenas quando a lei dispuser que não se transmite o direito causa mortis é que haverá impossibilidade jurídica da ação dos herdeiros ou sucessores a qualquer título. No caso ora analisado, verificando-se da inaplicabilidade do art. 1.157 do CC (LGL\2002\400), percebe-se que defluindo o direito à retrocessão da própria Constituição Federal, inarredável a conclusão que se cuida de direito transmissível. 11 Montante a ser pago pelo expropriado, pela reaquisição do imóvelResta indagar qual o critério para fixação do montante a ser pago pelo ex-proprietário quando do acolhimento da ação de retrocessão. Inicialmente, pode-se dizer que o expropriado deve devolver o montante apurado quando do recebimento do preço fixado pelo juiz ou havido mediante acordo lavrado em escritura pública. Inobstante, se o bem recebeu melhoras que tenham aumentado seu valor, parece-nos que devam elas ser levadas em conta, para efeito de apuração do montante do preço a ser devolvido ao expropriante. O valor a ser pago, pois, será o recebido à época, por parte do expropriado acrescido de melhoramentos eventualmente introduzidos no imóvel, caso deste se cuide. 12 Correção monetáriaHá autores que afirmam que a correção monetária não fará parte do valor a ser devolvido, "in principio", pois, embora haja previsão legal de seu pagamento quando da desapropriação, há razoável fundamento de que se o Poder Público não destinou o imóvel ou deu margem a que ele não fosse utilizado, por culpa sua, de seu próprio comportamento, deve suportar as consequências de sua atitude. A Corte Suprema de Justiça da Nação Argentina prontificou-se pelo descabimento da atualização monetária, deixando julgado que ''en efecto, obvio parece decir que el fundamento jurídico del instituto de la retrocesión es distinto ai de la expropiación, como que se origina por el hecho de no destinarse el bien expropiado al fin de utilidad publica previsto por la ley. Si esta finalidad no se cumple, el expropiante no puede pretender benefíciarse con el mayor valor adquirido por el inmueble y su derecho, como principio, se limita a recibir lo que pagó por él" (Fallos, t. 271, pp. 42 e ss.). Outro argumento parece-nos ponderável. É que, a se admitir a devolução com correção monetária poderia facilitar a intervenção do Estado no domínio econômico, de vez que poderia pretender investir na aquisição de imóveis, para restituí-los, posteriormente, com acréscimo de correção monetária, com o que desvirtuar-se-ia de suas finalidades precípuas. Parece-nos, entretanto, razoável que se apure o valor real do imóvel devidamente atualizado e se corrija, monetariamente, o valor da indenização paga, para que se mantenha a equivalência econômica e patrimonial das partes. Há decisão admitindo a correção monetária da quantia a ser paga pelo expropriado (RDP 11/274) proferida pelo Min. Jarbas Nobre, do TFR. O valor do imóvel serviria de teto para o índice da correção. 13 Rito processualO tipo de procedimento a ser adotado nas hipóteses de ação de retrocessão previsto na legislação processual. É o procedimento ordinário ou sumaríssimo, dependendo do valor da causa. Não há qualquer especialidade de rito, de vez que independe de depósito prévio. Não se aplica, aqui, o procedimento desapropriação, às avessas. Isto porque, no procedimento de desapropriação há um rito especial e pode o Poder Público imitir-se previamente na posse da coisa, desde que alegue urgência na tomada e efetue o depósito do valor arbitrado. Tal característica do processo de desapropriação não está presente no rito processual da ação de retrocessão. Demais disso, a ação depende de prévio acolhimento, com produção de prova do abandono do imóvel, ou sua não destinação ao fim anunciado no decreto. 14 Retrocessão de bens móveisA desapropriação alcança qualquer tipo de coisa. Não apenas os imóveis podem ser desapropriados. Isto porque o art. 2.0 do Dec.-lei 3.365/41 (LGL\1941\6) dispõe "mediante declaração de utilidade pública, todos os bens poderão ser desapropriados pela União, pelos Estados, Municípios, Distrito Federal e Territórios”. Como assinala Celso Antônio Bandeira de Mello "pode ser objeto de desapropriação, tudo aquilo que seja objeto de propriedade. Isto é, todo bem, imóvel ou móvel, corpóreo ou incorpóreo, pode ser desapropriado. Portanto, também se desapropriam direitos em geral. Contudo, não são desapropriáveis direitos personalíssimos, tais os de liberdade, o direito à honra, etc. Efetivamente, estes não se definem por um conteúdo patrimonial, antes se apresentam como verdadeiras projeções da personalidade do indivíduo ou consistem em expressões de um seu status jurídico, como o pátrio poder e a cidadania, por exemplo (ob. cit., p. 194). De igual teor a lição de Ebert Chamoun (ob. cit., 94). A lição do autor merece integral subscrição, por ser da mais absoluta juridicidade. A Constituição Federal assegura o direito de propriedade. A única limitação é a possibilidade de desapropriação, por parte do Poder Público. Mas, como a Constituição não limita a incidência da expropriação apenas sobre imóveis e a lei específica fala em "bens", entende-se que todo e qualquer direito pode ser desapropriado. Por consequência, qualquer bem pode ser passível de retrocessão (verbi gratia, os direitos autorais). 15 Retrocessão parcialCaso tenha havido desapropriação de um imóvel e parte dele não tenha aproveitada para a finalidade precípua declarada no decreto, surge a questão de se saber se o remanescente não utilizado pode ser objeto da retrocessão. Pelas mesmas razões expostas pelas quais se admitiu a existência da retrocessão no Direito brasileiro e cuidar-se de direito real, pelo qual o expropriado pode reaver posse e propriedade do próprio imóvel, admite-se a retrocessão parcial. 16 RenúnciaCaso o expropriado renuncie ao direito de retrocessão, nada terá a reclamar. Tratando-se, como se cuida, de direito patrimonial, é ele renunciável. Nada obriga a manter seu direito. Como salienta Ebert Chamoun, "a renúncia é plenamente eficaz. Uma vez que consta do instrumento de acordo dispositivo que exprima o desinteresse do ex-proprietário pelo destino que venha ulteriormente a ser dado ao bem e no qual se revele, claro e indiscutível, o seu propósito de renunciar ao direito de preferência à aquisição e ao direito de cobrar perdas e danos em face da infração do dever de oferecimento, o não atendimento das finalidades previstas no decreto desapropriatório, não terá quaisquer consequências patrimoniais, tornando-se absolutamente irrelevante sob o ponto de vista do direito privado" (ob. cit., p. 93). Embora não se adote a consequência apontada pelo autor. aceita-se o fundamento da possibilidade da renúncia. 17 Retrocessão na desapropriação por zonaNeste passo, acompanha-se o magistério de Celso Antônio Bandeira de Mello, segundo quem "é impossível cogitar de ação de retrocessão relativa a bens revendidos pelo Poder Público no caso de desapropriação por zona, quanto à área expropriada exatamente para esse fim, uma vez que, em tal caso não há transgressão alguma à finalidade pública em vista da qual foi realizada (ob. cit., p. 210). De igual teor a orientação de Ebert Chamoun (ob. cit., p. 96). E a posição é de fácil compreensão. O "interesse público", na hipótese, foi ditada exatamente para que se reserve a área para ulterior desenvolvimento da obra ou para revenda. Destina-se a absorver a extraordinária valorização que alcançará o local. De qualquer forma, estará o interesse público satisfeito. lnadmite-se, em consequência, a ação de retrocessão, quando a desapropriação se fundar em melhoria de determinada zona (art. 4.0 do Dec.-lei 3.365/41 (LGL\1941\6)). A propósito os pareceres de Vicente Ráo (RDP 7 /79), Castro Nunes (RDP 7 /94) e Brandão Cavalcanti (RDP 7 /102). 18 Referência jurisprudencialAlém da jurisprudência já referida no curso da expos1çao da matéria, convém transcrever alguns acórdãos do STF que cuidam do assunto. Negativa de vigência ao art. 1.150 do CC (LGL\2002\400). "Não vejo na decisão recorrida negativa de vigência do art. 1.150 do CC (LGL\2002\400). De conformidade com a melhor interpretação desse dispositivo, o expropriante não está obrigado a oferecer o imóvel ao expropriado, quando resolve devolvê-lo ao domínio privado, mediante venda ou abandono" (RTJ 83/97. Também o mesmo repertório 56/785 e 66/250. Possibilidade do exercício da ação. "Se se verifica a impossibilidade da utilização do bem, ou da execução da obra, então passa a ser possível o exercício do direito de retrocessão. Não é preciso esperar que o desapropriante aliene o bem desapropriado" (RTJ 80/150). Destinação diversa do bem. "Incabível a retrocessão ou ressarcimento se o bem expropriado tem destino diverso, mas de utilidade pública" (RTJ 74/95; No mesmo sentido o mesmo repertório 48/749 e RDA 127 /440). Pressupostos da retrocessão. "Retrocessão. Seus pressupostos; devolução do imóvel ao domínio privado, · quer pela alienação, quer pelo abandono por longo tempo, sem destinação de utilidade pública. Ausência desses pressupostos. Ação julgada improcedente" (RTJ 83/96). Fundamento do direito à retrocessão. "Constituição, art. 153, § 22CC (LGL\2002\400), art. 1 .150. Desapropriamento por utilidade pública. Reversão do bem desapropriado. O direito à requisição da coisa desapropriada tem o seu fundamento na referida norma constitucional e na citada regra civil, pois uma e outra exprimem um só princípio que se sobrepõe ao do art. 35 do Dec.-Lei 3.365/41 (LGL\1941\6), visto que o direito previsto neste último (reivindicação) não faz desaparecer aqueloutro" (RTJ 80/139). Estes alguns excertos jurisprudenciais de maior repercussão, já que enfrentaram matéria realmente controvertida dando-lhe solução fundamentada. Há inúmeros julgados sobre o tema que, no entanto, dispensam transcrição ou menção expressa, pois outra coisa não fazem que repetir os argumentos já manifestados. Como se cuida de matéria controvertida e a nível de repertório enciclopédico, o importante é a notícia sobre o tema, sem prejuízo de termos feito algumas colocações pessoais a respeito. Nem tivemos o intuito de esgotar o assunto, de vez que incabível num trabalho deste gênero.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content: "La philosophie morale reste tributaire d’une forme de solipsisme. Par la désignation de solipsisme moral, je ne vise pas l’égoïsme, ni la solitude psychologique ou existentielle du sujet, mais avant tout la forme logique d’une telle attitude. Celle-ci consiste à se concevoir comme le seul agent moral. Dans un tel solipsisme, les concepts moraux se définiraient dans les mêmes termes si j’étais effectivement le seul agent moral dans un monde d’êtres sensibles (victimes impuissantes, enfants, personnes dépendantes, voire animaux) ou d’éventuels hommes-machines qui ne sont pas eux- mêmes considérés comme des agents. Les intermédiaires de mon action sont vus comme des médiations si transparentes qu’ils pourraient être remplacés par des machines sans modifier la nature de mon obligation morale. Dès lors, ma responsabilité est illimitée et totale : les limites de mon obligation morale sont les limites du monde. Toute limitation de l’action relève de l’immoralité. Les médiations humaines de l’action, la pluralité quantitative des agents moraux et la pluralité qualitative des postures morales n’y ont pas de place."

Borderline personality disorder (BPD) is a common diagnosis I encountered while on my psychiatry rotation. The stigma surrounding the diagnosis and the negative attitudes of health care professionals towards these patients raised interesting questions regarding the approach to and benefit of formal diagnosis. Through reflection, two important learning points are proposed: be aware of the stigma towards BPD patients and approach each patient with an open mind and a professional attitude, and carefully examine the context of BPD symptoms before attributing a patient’s difficulties to a single diagnosis. RÉSUMÉ Le trouble de la personnalité limite (TPL) est un diagnostic commun que j’ai croisé au cours de mon stage en psychiatrie. La stigmati- sation entourant ce diagnostic et les attitudes négatives des professionnels de la santé face à ces patients soulèvent d’intéressantes questions quant à l’avantage d’établir un diagnostic officiel et l’approche à suivre pour y arriver. À la suite de réflexions, deux éléments importants à retenir sont suggérés : être conscient de la stigmatisation envers les patients avec le TPL et approcher chaque patient avec un esprit ouvert et une attitude professionnelle, et examiner attentivement le contexte entourant les symptômes du TPL avant d’attribuer les difficultés des patients à un seul diagnostic.

She's the dollars, she's my protection; she's a promise, in the year of election. Sister, I can't let you go; I'm like a preacher, stealing hearts at a traveling show. For love or money, money, money... Desire -- U2, "Desire" (1988) For the love of money. In the worship of things. Desire has traditionally been employed by advertising as a means of selling product. Regardless of culture, more powerful than context, desire is invoked as one of capitalism's iron-clad codes of quality. The Uses of Desire in Advertising Specifically, two variants have been most common. That in which desire is: (1) stimulated or (2) sated by a product. Crucial to advertisers, in both cases the product is more powerful than the thing the audience finds most powerful: the physical surge, the emotional rush, the chemical compulsion we label "desire". In the case of the former, a typical approach has been to create an equation in which product intervenes in the relationship between man and woman (and it is always man and woman), stimulating the psycho-physiological desire of one for the other. A classic pre-post design. Absent the product, desire would not arise, ad text often alleges. This tack is well captured in this ad for a perfume. Implicit in this approach is the assumption that the ad reader will desire desire. If so, he or she -- equally desirous of this turn of events -- will insert him or herself into the scenario, engaging in a symbolic, if not actual purchase of the product1. As we saw above, desire is often depicted via substitute symbols -- flashing red neon, burning matches, flame-blowers, stifling heat and raging brush fires2. The product is then used to extinguish such signs -- metaphorically quenching desire. This is the satiation variant identified at the outset. Standardised Desire? This last is an Australian ad, but in a wide variety of contexts, the same formula of product/desire appears. A recent Malaysian ad, for instance, plays out like this: a motorbike roars up to a doorstep; its leather-clad rider dismounts. Removing the helmet we find beneath a ... beautiful long-haired woman. Cut to a medium shot of the front door opening. A similarly-clad male leans against the molding. Rugged, firm, slightly aloof. Cut to product name: Dashing for Men. Followed by a picture of the cologne. "The Dashing Sensation" is then posted -- ripe with the implication that the cologne has worked its magical, magnetic attraction uniting female and male. It should be pointed out that Malaysia is a market with a significant western presence. Its top advertising firms are American, British and Italian. Thus, if one were curious as to whether desire was inherently a "cultural universal" or rather due to accession (i.e. the movement of intellectual and corporate capital), Euro-American presence would certainly be a factor to consider 3. Innovating Desire Bringing us to Japan. Desire is also a major theme there, as well. However, there, Japanese firms dominate ad production. And, interestingly, though the above-mentioned formulations do appear, desire in Japan also has its own specialised discourse. Rather than a relationship between the consumable and the consumer's emotional/physical state, discourse about desire can transpire independent of the product. Desire is often simply about desire. This is in keeping with a trend (or, more formally, a stage) of development Japanese advertising has achieved -- what I call "product-least advertising"; a condition in which discourse is about many things other than consumption. One of these things being desire. In closing I will wonder what this might say about Japanese society. Japanese Approaches to Desire As noted above, it is not the case that messages of product-induced desire do not appear in Japan. They are certainly more pervasive than in their Islamic neighbor, Malaysia. And, like America, desire is treated in an array of ways. Object-Mediated Desire One approach, admittedly less conventional, posits the product as medium. Only through the product will desire be manifested. In this ad, though verbal substitutes are invoked -- "lust", "love", "lick", "pinch", bite", "touch" -- desire is the guiding force as the figures trapped inside the product's bar code move mechanically toward physical consummation. Of particular note is the product's multi-faceted relationship to desire: it subsumes desire, stimulates it, provides a forum and means for its expression, and is the device securing its culmination ... the ad text is ambiguous as to which is controlling. This is a definitive "postmodern ad", pregnant with shifting perspective, situational action, oppositional signs and interpretive possibilities. The kind of text so-called "cultural studies" intends by the term "polysemy" (the notion that multiple meanings are contained in any sign -- see Fiske). In the case of desire, postmodern ads tell us not that desire is multiple. Rather, it is a singular (i.e. universally experienced) condition which may be differentially manifested and variously interpretable vis-à-vis singular object/products. Object-Induced Desire For instance, in this ad, again for instant noodles, two salarymen contemplate the statement "this summer's new product is stimulating". Each conjures a different image of just what "stimulating" means. For the younger man, a veritable deluge of sexual adoration; for his elder, an assault by a gang of femmes toughs. And while the latter man's fantasy would not qualify as the conventional definition of "desire", the former would. Thus, despite its polysemic trappings, the ad varies little from the standard approach outlined at the outset (plates 1 and 2). It posits that the product possesses sufficient power to stimulate desire for its consumer in external, unrelated others. Object-Directed Desire One of sociology's earliest complaints about capitalism was its reduction of people to the status of things. Social relations became instrumental acts aimed at achieving rational ends; the personalities, thoughts and qualities of those human agents engaged in the exchange become secondary to the sought good. Advertising, according to early semiotic critiques (see for instance Williamson), has only intensified this predilection, though in a different way. Ads instrumentalise by creating equality between the product presented and the person doing the presenting. When the presenter and product are conflated -- as in the case where a major star clasps the product to her bosom and addresses the camera with: "it's my Nice Once" (the product name) -- the objectification of the human subject may be unavoidable. The material and corporeal meld. She cherishes the drink. If we desire her (her status, her style, her actual physical being) but are realistic (and thus willing to settle for a substitute) ... we can settle for the simulation (her drink). This kind of vicarious taking, this symbolic sharing is common in advertising. Played out over and over the audience quickly learns to draw an equal sign between the two depicted objects (product and star). Purchasing one enables us to realise our desire (however incompletely) for the other. Sometimes the product and person are separated, but in a way that the discourse is about longing. The product is consumed because the human can't be -- perhaps a less satisfactory substitute, but a replacement, nonetheless. Or, as in the ad below, the two might be interchangeable. Interior. Bright yellow room without any discernible features. No walls, windows or furniture. Tight shot of black fishnet stockings, barely covered by a yellow dress. The legs swivel in a chair, allowing a fleeting shot of the model's crotch. Cut to a darkened interior. The product sits next to a set of wrenches. Cut back to first interior. Medium tight of the model's bare shoulders. She spins in her chair. Cut to the mechanic working on the engine of a car. Female voiceover: "Hey! Work AGAIN? ... Let's play!" Cut to tight shot of her pursed lips. "Hey! ... let's go for a drive", accompanying consecutive shots of the mechanic wiping sweat from his brow and the vamp's derriere. Next, a sequence of fast, tight images: mechanic revving the engine, the model's face, then her upper body viewed through heavily-ventilated apparel. "Oh", she says, "cars are cuter, huh?" The mechanic pauses to consider. Walks over to the product, pops the top. "When it comes to that sort of man..." her VO says as he gulps the drink, "women are suckers". Tight on woman's face: "(he's a) rake", she pouts. To better appreciate this endemic correspondence between objectification and desire, consider this ad for a car named "Rosso" ("red" in Italian, "aka" in Japanese). The model, "Anna", is tinted head to toe in red (red, of course, being the universal signifier for passion and desire)4. She and/or the car rouse enough passion in a male by-stander to literally make his blood boil. This, in turn, produces steam which, in turn, sends air current of sufficient force to propel Anna's skirt skyward. This, in turn, converts the man's face into an embarrassed and/or impassioned red. "Rosso!" he gushes enthusiastically -- reference to car, his condition, Anna and, presumably, her panties5. Thus, the desire for things -- people included -- is by no means disappearing in Japanese advertising. The name of the game is still to sell that which has been produced. Although Japanese ads have moved toward a decentring of product -- an introduction of consumption-least discourse, with a concomitant increase in popular cultural and societal content -- the great majority still speak in the language of "here it is, buy it!" The prevailing tenor is still object-oriented. And the spill-over, as we just saw, is a tendency to depict humans and their interactions in objectified terms. A recent ad, for the discount store LLAOX, is rather stark in this regard. A young man displays photos of the many items (guitars, television, appliances) he found at LLAOX. In the final shot, of an attractive woman standing in front of the items, he proudly boasts: "I found her at LLAOX, too!" Subject-Oriented Desire Like ads in other countries, then, Japanese ads tend to place the object ahead of the subject. Desire for the person depicted in the ad is either ancillary to the desire expressed for the product, or else exists as a function of the subject's objectified status. However, an accreting number of Japanese ads have begun orienting desire toward one or both of the subjects in the ad, over or independent of the object for sale. A man and woman in their early thirties sit at a table sipping whiskey. The woman leans toward the man and in a perky voice utters: "Hey, let's turn in soon." The man protests, pointing to the drink: "we haven't finished this, yet." The woman tilts her head. She insists "let's head home." Then in a conspiratorial undertone "it's that day" and winks. The man's elbow falls off the tabletop. The woman blows him a kiss. Cut to a cat hiding beneath one of his paws in embarrassment. (Source: Nikka All Malt Whiskey -- Japan, 1993) Admittedly, not all ad discourse involves desire. But of late considerable ad space has been devoted to human relations and longing6. Consider this promo for a health drink. A man stands on his verandah in his t-shirt and pyjama bottoms. He looks groggy. Cut to a young woman watering her plants on the adjacent porch. "Hey!" she coos to her bushes, "are you lively?" She tends the pots along the centre divider. Is she addressing her foliage or the young man on the other side? He cranes his neck to steal a peek. She seems unaware. He lays his head on his forearms, admiring her. Cut to a shot of her regarding the product; drinking it; savouring the taste. The text reads: "With Lactia you will bloom beautifully." The woman enthuses audibly: "happiness!" Her voyeur, still in thrall, emits a sigh, suddenly straightens and declares aloud (in English): "Nice!" The previous two examples feature desire by adults. Considerable contemporary desire-centred discourse, however, focuses on teens. In these cases the product is sometimes introduced as a symbol for desire -- as in this case of a potato chip which snaps crisply each time a boy's romantic advance is repelled. A boy and girl walk along a boardwalk. The boy tentatively reaches for his partner's hand. Just then an approaching bicyclist toots his horn and cleaves a path between the two. A superimposed chip snaps. Next, seated on the shoreline, the boy reaches out again. Suddenly, a wind-blown ball rolls past, prompting his intended to abruptly vacate her position. He is left, literally clutching air. Another chip snaps again. The boy reaches out to touch the girl's handprint in the sand. He utters "I like you". The girl turns and asks "what did you say?" He impotently shrugs "nothing at all." Cut to a box of the chips. This youthful obsession with desire plays prominently in ads. First, because it fits well with the "mini-drama" format currently favoured in Japanese advertising. Second, because it is an effective technique for capturing viewer interest. The emotional tugs keep the audience attending to the ad beyond the first viewing. In the following ad, while desire for the product is the punch line, the entire ad is structured around unrequited desire. The confusion of the former for the latter not only redounds to product value, but predisposes the audience toward empathy and engagement. A teenage girl in her plaid uniform steers her bike into its berth outside school. Her voiceover identifies the bike name, shows how one touch locks the wheel in place and the seat in the vertical position. "Oh!" a quavering male voice utters off camera. "Can I ask name?" Japanese being a language that often operates without articles and pronouns, we aren't sure which name he means. Quick zoom in on the girl's expectant expression. "Eh?" she asks breathlessly. Her narration stops, her heart soars, glowing a vibrant red over her white sweater. "The bike's name", her interlocutor clarifies. All at once, the throbbing red heart is extinguished, fading to a black circular smudge. Her expectant smile dissolves into disappointment. Not all scenarios are downers, however. In the following case the product is a prop -- at best an accoutrement -- in the teenage game of expressing desire. A spry girl pours hot water into two cups. Off camera an older female voice asks whether she isn't supposed to be resting. "Don't worry about it", the girl replies. Cut to exterior shot. She's wearing a short coat, backing through the front door with the two cups in her hands. Cut to an angled reaction shot: a handsome boy leans across his bike, placing a letter in the post. He holds the letter up. "This", he says. Cut to the girl, now leaning against the entryway of the building, sipping her drink. Haltingly, in a breathy voice, she utters: "To... tomorrow... would have been... okay. But..." Japanese being the language of implication we read this as "it's fine the way it is working out." With the girl in the foreground, we see the boy leaning against the entryway on the opposite side contemplating his drink. Cut to a long angled shot from high above. The two teens sup in the cool evening air, alone, intimate, yet separated by the building's bright entrance. The narrator closes with a message about the nutritional value of the drink -- wholly unrelated to the unequivocal web of intimacy spun by these two youths. This ad offers us a perfect take on how desire is constructed and reproduced in contemporary ads in Japan. A perfect place for us to close. Evolving Desire? Desire is not new to advertising, but the form in which it is currently being expressed is. In Japan, at least, where commercials strive for polysemy in the volatile, evanescent and ultimately quixotic struggle for audience attention, communication is increasingly about things unrelated to the product. High on the list are affection, intimacy and sexuality -- aspects of human existence which bear considerable connection to desire. Reproduced in a variety of forms, played out in an array of contexts, by a variety of demographic "types", such commercial communications have the effect of centralising desire as a major theme in contemporary Japanese society7. The increase in so-called "secondary discourse"8 about human longing is palpable. But what to make of it? Clear explanations lie in "social evolution" -- factors such as: Japan's remarkable achievement of its postwar economic goals; its subsequent economic meltdown and accreting political malaise; the dramatic decline in corporate loyalty; disintegration of the family; increased urbanisation, atomisation and anomie; the stratification of generations and economic classes; increased materialism and attention to status; the concomitant loss of a personal raison d'être and collective moral beacon. In fact, all the reasons that Emile Durkheim diagnosed in fin de siècle France in inventing the discipline of sociology and Murakami Ryu has recently discerned a century later in fin de siècle Japan. Desire is a manifestation of social breakdown, as well as a plea for its resolution. As we enter a new century -- indeed a new millenium -- it is an empirical question worth monitoring whether the Japanese obsession with desire will continue to swell. Footnotes 1. Although the claims in this paper are qualitative, rather than quantitative, without question it is true that both men and women in Japanese television advertising are depicted as desiring. In this way, one could claim that desire exists independent of gender in ads. At the same time, it is almost certain that desire is often depicted as being manifested differentially by men and women. However, as one can infer from the data below, this is not always so (viz. "True Love"). Moreover, while women (or men) might more often fit one or another of the constructs below (i.e. object-mediated, object-induced, object-directed, subject-oriented) than their opposite number, cases can generally be found in which both (male and female) are depicted desiring in each of the stated relationships. 1. Thinking of this (fire-desire) symbol-set generally (and this ad specifically), one is reminded of the Springsteen lyric: At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet and a freight train running through the middle of my head; Only you can cool my desire. I'm on fire. -- Bruce Springsteen: "I'm on Fire" (1984) Reminding one of the lyric by Shocking Blue from their decade-spanning Number 1 single (1970 by the Dutch band as well as the 1986 cover version by Bananarama): I'm your Venus, I'm your fire at your desire. If not the Earth, Wind and Fire phrasing from "That's the Way of the World" (1975): Hearts of fire, creates love desire... Of course, the fire/desire combo might also have become a universal association due to the easy opportunity (at least in English) to commit a rhyme (no matter how cloddish). 2. It has yet to be determined that desire is a cultural universal. However, the universal presence and relatively uniform logic of the "machinery of capitalism" (a major aspect of which is advertising) certainly serves as a powerful prod. That machinery overlaps culture and tends to act on it in relatively similar ways (one of which may just be the discourse about desire). This, of course, makes no claims about universal outcomes. I have addressed the interaction of capitalism and context and the themes of global/local, homogeneity/heterogeneity, universal/particular in a series of articles concerning information transfer, body, color, and advertising form in comparative context. Please see my home page for references to and greater detail on this work. 3. Regarding red as signifier, see Branston & Stafford (7). Also see my work on color universals ("The Color of Meaning") and culture-specific colour conventions ("The Color of Difference"). 4. Support for this interpretation can be found in other ads, as ideas and practices in Japanese advertising tend to travel in twos or threes. During this same period, Suzuki Move placed Leonardo DiCaprio behind the wheel. As he tooled around the city, his accelleration was such as to raise the skirts of two by-standers. DiCaprio promptly braked, placed the car in reverse, rolled astride the two women, and impishly pointing at each, identified the shade of underpants ("white and strawberry") they were sporting. 5. And let me reiterate: All such depictions are exclusively about sexual/emotional longing between men and women. 6. As I am mainly working with Japanese data in this article, I feel comfortable only seeking to draw conclusions about Japanese society. Certainly, one could fathom conducting the same sort of analysis and arriving at the same general conclusions about other postmodern, capitalist, commercial-centred, consumer-oriented societies. 7. The word is O'Barr's. It bears considerable similarity to Barthes's "second order signification". Plates 1 Caliente perfume (USA, 1994) 9 Georgia canned coffee (Japan, 1999) 2 Old Spice cologne (USA, 1994) 10 Rosso (Japan, 1998) 3 Coke (Australia, 1994) 11 LLAOX (Japan, 1999) 4 Dashing cologne (Malaysia, 1997) 12 Lactia (Japan, 1997) 5 Cup Noodles (Japan, 1998) 13 5/8 and 3/5 Chips (Japan, 1993) 6 Cup Noodles (Japan, 1998) 14 Gachyarinko (Japan, 1999) 7 Nescafe Excella (ice coffee; Japan, 1999) 15 Hotpo (health drink; Japan 1999) 8 Various ads References Barthes, Roland. Mythologies. Jonathan Cape, 1972 (1957). Branston, G., and R. Stafford. The Media Student's Book. London: Routledge, 1996. Fiske, John. Television Culture. London: Methuen, 1987. Holden, Todd. "The Color of Meaning: The Significance of Black and White in Television Commercials." Interdisciplinary Information Sciences 3.2 (1997): 125-146. ---. "The Color of Difference: Critiquing Cultural Convergence via Television Advertising" Interdisciplinary Information Sciences 5.1 (1999): 15-36. O'Barr. Culture and the Ad: Exploring Otherness in the World of Advertising. Boulder, Co.: Westview Press, 1994. Williamson, Judith. Decoding Advertisements: Ideology and Meaning in Advertising. London: Marion Boyers, 1979. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Todd Joseph Miles Holden. "The Evolution of Desire in Advertising: From Object-Obsession to Subject-Affection." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.5 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9907/adverts.php>. Chicago style: Todd Joseph Miles Holden, "The Evolution of Desire in Advertising: From Object-Obsession to Subject-Affection," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 5 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9907/adverts.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Todd Joseph Miles Holden. (1999) The evolution of desire in advertising: from object-obsession to subject-affection. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(5). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9907/adverts.php> ([your date of access]).

This article examines how middle-aged urban men in South Korea relate to age-relevant ideas of beauty in a society in which youthful muscular bodies are increasingly presented as the ideal or, arguably, even as a norm. Drawing on in-depth interviews with 13 male participants aged 36–56 years residing in the Seoul metropolitan area, it seeks to outline what role grooming and aesthetic labor play in their everyday social interactions. The findings suggest that men’s aesthetic practices in the workplace are strongly linked to considerations of in-group harmony, competency at work, and maintaining social hierarchies. Rather than being motivated by a desire to emulate hegemonic masculinity embodied by male celebrities of similar age, men in this age group engage with body work primarily for the homosocial gaze of other men in their workplace in order to embody their membership and belonging to it. These micro-contexts of men’s aesthetic labor help to illustrate how not all aesthetic labor can be explained in terms of considering the body simply as an object of investment. The participants’ reflections also illustrate how men’s bodies as neoliberal objects in the contemporary Korean workplace are not interpellated by societal or cultural influences in identical ways. For white collar workers, the role of aesthetic labor was clearly seen as more significant than for those in blue collar roles, suggesting a degree of social stratification of body work. Despite the relatively easy access to affordable technologies of the body in Korea, for workers in lower-middle class jobs where grooming and fitness are not considered an essential part of their job, partaking in aesthetic labor came with the anxiety that it might be encoded as “excessive” by others. This suggests that Korean beauty cultures continue to be highly class- and context-specific rather than relatively uniform as often (mis)understood in existing literature.

En matière de droit pénal des médias, l’année 2020 aura surtout été marquée par plusieurs jugements qui délimitent la notion des médias dits « sociaux » ainsi que la commission d’infractions par leur biais. Le Tribunal fédéral a en effet jugé coupable de diffamation un utilisateur Facebook ayant «liké» et repartagé des publications antisémites sur Facebook (chiffre 2 de la présente contribution). Ensuite, les juges de Mon-Repos ont précisé dans quelle mesure l’infraction de discrimination raciale est consommée par une publication sur les réseaux sociaux (ch. 3). Enfin, considérant qu’il n’évolue pas dans la chaîne typique de production et de diffusion des médias, le Tribunal fédéral a nié l’application du privilège des médias (art. 28 CP) à un utilisateur Facebook poursuivi pour avoir partagé une publication diffamatoire (ch. 4). Sur la partie générale du CP, le Tribunal cantonal lucernois a jugé qu’agit sous l’emprise d’une erreur sur l’illicéité la journaliste qui, persuadée de ne pas enfreindre la loi au vu de ses motivations journalistiques, viole un domicile habité par des squatteurs sans le consentement du propriétaire (ch. 5). Plus spécialement sur l’infraction de diffamation, le Tribunal fédéral a jugé attentatoire à l’honneur l’établissement et la distribution d’une brochure d’où ressort une caricature satirique d’un conseiller municipal, le présentant comme malhonnête (ch. 6) Dans le cadre d’un revirement de jurisprudence, le Tribunal fédéral a condamné, sur la base de l’art. 179ter CP, des personnes ayant enregistré leur discussion avec un policier (ch. 9), respectivement avec un juge et une enseignante (ch. 10), dans l’exercice de leur fonction. D’un point de vue procédural, une entité administrative étatique n’a pas la qualité de lésé (art. 115 al. 1 CPP) dans le cadre d’un procès contre un journaliste pour discrimination raciale (ch. 12). En outre, le Tribunal fédéral a confirmé qu’une journaliste prévenue ne peut pas simplement objecter la protection des sources (art. 172 CPP) pour s’opposer à la levée des scellés (ch. 13). Si le seul fait qu’un prévenu acquitté ne soit pas expressément nommé dans un article de presse n’exclut pas une indemnité pour tort moral au sens de l’art. 429 al. 1 let. c CPP (ch. 14), il doit, pour y avoir droit, être en mesure d’établir que le fort retentissement médiatique lui cause une souffrance morale grave (ch. 15). Finalement, une personne qui publie des interviews d’un sympathisant d’Al-Quaïda se rend coupable de propagande selon l’art. 2 al. 1 de la Loi fédérale interdisant les groupes «Al-Quaïda» et «Etat islamique» et les organisations apparentées celui (ch. 16).

'Shut up, Graeme; I want to see those two rooting.'-- Description by a spectator of her own thoughts during Bulldog Front, Underground Productions, Cement Box Theatre, Brisbane, June 1999. A split scene in a small theatre, with a transverse stage faced from both sides by audiences. On a raised platform, two co-workers from a recruitment firm hired to sell forced-labour camps for the unemployed to the Australian public extend their awkward flirtation to a slow, gentle sexual encounter. Separated by several metres and a small patch of light, their shaven-headed supervisor stares down a gun barrel wielded by a former employee who has sold the firm's secrets to a competitor, then returned to negotiate terms of blackmail regarding their new contract. The scenes, observed and reported on by two other employees (as characters and as actors) from the space of the audience, end simultaneously. As the sounds of heterosexual coitus reach a (relatively) subdued climax, the former employee, a young man utterly unprepared for the reaction his threat receives, falls through the window of the office as he writhes away from the supervisor's angry tirade. Is this exploitative? If so, of whom and in what way? From March to June of this year, my co-workers and I on the Bulldog Front project at the University of Queensland attempted to realise the political potential of a physically-oriented rehearsal style. The mode of operation of the show -- the way it was rehearsed and performed, as well as the mode of its reception (for the audience only sees the 'product', one of the thorns in the side of 'experimental' praxis the world over) -- concentrated almost entirely upon the labour of the actors to develop and realise the operation of political forces through physical action. The politicisation of bodily desire within this framework was not an avowed intention at the beginning on the process, neither textually nor in the conception of the action by the creative team. However, the role of discourses regarding desire asserted themselves repeatedly in the course of realising the action -- and the interesting aspect is how easily, in comparison to methods of work we had experienced previously, this process allowed us -- in fact, forced us -- to address the social implications of specifically sexual desire within a textual matrix which often actively marginalised it. The scene in question did not arise, for instance, because of some misguided wish on the part of the producers to include a 'sex scene'. Indeed, the scene took place in low light, with clothes remaining in place - the action was obviously mimed, although the actor's bodies were in full contact. The violence in the other part of the split scene, by way of comparison, took on several sexualised manifestations, including the obviously phallic weapon and the grabbing of the employee's crotch while he cowered on a table. Contextually, the play's action up to that point had attempted to diversify the largely homosocial contact of the office and street in question in terms of the manifestation of male sexuality. The male co-worker in the 'sex' scene, Anthony, was engaging in intercourse with the newly-employed daughter of the company's owner. Throughout the play, Anthony's sometimes overtly sexual attitude to his work -- 'straight to bed on both of 'em,' he claims of his ability to derive (non-sexual) favours from the employees of a prospective 'victim' -- engaged in a dialogue with his attitudes towards his own sexual relations. The character of Teara, his co-participant, was by contrast desexualised in the office context -- or so it might have seemed in the text. An examination of the play reveals that other factors -- notably the fact that it's her first day back after working in Europe for three years -- mediate this verbal marginalisation. But to what extent can her later sacrifice of the relationship that develops between them -- and, indeed, of Anthony's life -- be read into her actions with regard to the staged encounter, particularly because she plays pursuer far more than pursued (Anthony, it seems, being far from competent in this area)? Is she sublimating her father-murder (her wish to take over the company) into physical 'conquest' of Anthony, who seems the perfect candidate according to the arrayed forces within the company (or the society)? Does this masculinised reading of her actions rob her of female psycho-identity? Does the anecdotal evidence of female audience members saying they enjoyed this scene more than any of the others have any relevance to the question of exploitation? Do any of these questions matter? What place, it may be asked, does desire have in the creation of a theatre of politics? It has, I would argue, everything to do with it. The question of exploitation or misrepresentation is not only a real one, it is anything but a side issue. This is not a question derived from guilt, either male or Catholic in my case, but from a wish to challenge the mode of storytelling without compromising the story I wish to tell, which must involve an ongoing inquiry as to what exactly -- and where exactly -- that story is. 'Desire' in this context should be read as that contact between actors which can be sexualised in terms of the discourses of the body -- and the reason why I state that 'desire was not the point' is that there was less of that in this fairly passionate production than I, for one, had expected. However, no opportunity for inquiry into this sexualisation had to be avoided, simply because the methodology of rehearsal (for a reference point, look to Thomas Richards's At Work with Grotowski on Physical Actions) allowed the physicalisation of impulses which did not have to necessarily engage directly with the social situation as experienced by the actor. Most productions of my experience, it must be noted, begin with the actor -- usually her or his 'mind', in the form of seated and abstracted discussion about the possiblity of the concrete event of the text. From such seeds, many stunted representations and discursive effects of erotic and thanotic desire have sprung -- it is not an accident that displays of passion in Hamlet, the tragedy most self-consciously elevated by theatre cognoscenti, are ones of frustation. This frustation is doubtless a familiar one to many Western actors, precisely because the terms of their theatre are not constructed from the inside to even acknowledge, much less codify or liberate, desire. The address of such issues in 'psychological' terms usually ends up translating various social codes which have been assimilated by the actor regarding her/his own sexuality into the action of the play -- or more often, into the process of rehearsal, where they are often challenged by the actor for 'personal reasons' or eliminated by the producers for the 'public safety'. This is not to say that all productions which do not include a cornucopia of sexual acts, or even suggestions thereof, are concessions of artistic dignity or political commitment. The subject of this article cannot, for reasons of space, be about even the barest generalities regarding the topic of realising sexual desire -- even simply heterosexual desire, as if there were anything simple about it -- on the stage or between actors. The question remains one, then, of: did we -- that is to say, as writer/director, did I -- exploit the performers as sexual beings, either deliberately or through failing to satisfactorily address the issues of desire's representation in the production? Did I, while juxtaposing consensual heterosexual intercourse with sadomasochistic homoeros, merely read the desire of the female character into a phallocentric mode of discourse? Or is the question that I would prefer to ask (and the answer to that is emphatically 'yes'): Was the scene staged simply in order to excite the desire of the paying customer to see heterosexual intercourse? I can claim, and to my mind rightly, that the answer is 'no', and I'm off the hook -- I can tell myself I am not a pornographer. But take the word 'simply' out of the sentence, and we're back to square one, because something else was obviously going on. The question of whether or not the contexual devices employed in this scene justified the staged manifestations of desire is one for the individual audience member. The point of this article is to explain my thinking about the scene; it is also to explain how, to my mind, the approach to the actor's craft is a vital and near-neglected area of contestation with regard to how desire begins to be staged, and how modifications of the performer's act by the director impact upon the physicalisation of -- among other things -- heterosexual desire. The performance which seeks to address social forces in its approach to the action, as well as the dramatic elements of the action itself, must continually ask such questions without forgetting that a performance is not a lecture (and if every fibre is infused with the spirit of inquiry, it doesn't have to be). This is the promise of a performance approach to political theatre that doesn't just base itself in intellectual analysis. References Thomas Richards. At Work with Grotowski on Physical Actions. London: Routledge, 1995. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Marcel Dorney. "Don't Lean on the Window: Desire's Presence and Representation in Political Drama." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.5 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9907/window.php>. Chicago style: Marcel Dorney, "Don't Lean on the Window: Desire's Presence and Representation in Political Drama," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 5 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9907/window.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Marcel Dorney. (1999) Don't lean on the window: desire's presence and representation in political drama. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(5). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9907/window.php> ([your date of access]).

RESUMOA fragmentação do mundo e do saber sobre o mundo numa série de esferas autônomas constitui a herança – ao mesmo tempo libertadora e alienante – da modernidade. Os seus efeitos são experimentados por nós dos mais diversos modos, no domínio das ciências e das artes, da reflexão filosófica e da práxis histórica. Numerosas tentativas procuraram, e continuam a procurar, responder a essa dispersão, oferecendo um horizonte de sentido através de sistemas conceptuais, modelos de comunicação ou estruturas de administração. Porém, inclusive quando possam considerar certa abertura, essas tentativas sempre implicam um princípio de totalização da realidade pela representação, ou uma referência da linguagem à forma do verdadeiro, ou uma redução da vida à lógica da efetividade. A ficção é ao mesmo tempo menos ambiciosa e mais precária, mas eventualmente pode chegar a nos oferecer uma forma incomensurável de relacionar-nos com a fragmentação do mundo moderno, sem fechá-lo peremptoriamente na conta de nenhum dispositivo de saber-poder nem de forma alguma de consenso. O presente trabalho pretende apresentar alguns conceptos de ficção que, de Nietzsche a Foucault e de Vaihinger a Saer, dão conta da potência do falso.Palavras-chave: rasura, cartografia, socius; RESUMENLa ruptura entre el pensamiento de la naturaleza como physis y el pensamiento humano conduce a sufrimientos y equívocos para el hombre en el campo de las subjetividades. Una relación afirmativa con el devenir, en acuerdo con la propuesta de Nietzsche de sabiduría dionisíaca, reconduciría al hombre al camino de la vida trágica - aquella que produce vigor al afirmar el dolor y la diferencia - anulando la falsa oposición hombre/naturaleza. Inspirado en Nietzsche, Deleuze y Guattari proponen combates contra el fascismo de socius, del Estado, del capitalismo - es decir, de los varios territorios de saberes y poderes establecidos - que capturan los cuerpos y anulan sus potencias. Un instrumento para estas luchas es la producción de borraduras contra-fascistas sobre las codificaciones de poder. La cuestión de cómo producir por sí mismos cuerpos sin órganos como una forma de escapar a la organicidad del socius, se hace posible gracias al potencial que la sensación de borrar y redimensionar las cartografías de las subjetividadesPalabras clave:borradura, cartografía, socius ABSTRACTThe rupture between the thought of nature as physis and human thought leads to suffering and confusion for man in the fields of subjectivity. An affirmative relationship with becoming, in accordance with the proposal of Nietzsche's concept of dionysian wisdom, might lead man once again to the path of tragic life - one that produces strength by asserting pain and difference – thus surpassing the false opposition man/nature. Inspired by Nietzsche, Deleuze and Guattari propose fighting against the fascism of the socius, the State, of capitalism and all the dominant discourses of established knowledge and established power that capture body and its will. An instrument for such struggle is the production of counterfascist erasures on the encodings of power. The question of how to produce bodies without organs as a way to escape the organic structure of the socius is made possible by the power of sensation to erase and rediagram the cartographies of subjectivity.Keywords: erasure, cartography, socius

IntroductionJohn Berger provides a compelling analysis in Ways of Seeing on how we’ve been socialized through centuries of art to see women as objects and men as subjects. This way of seeing men and women is more than aesthetic choices but in fact shapes our ideologies of gender. As Berger asserts: “The art of the past no longer exists as it once did… In its place there is a language of images. What matters now is who uses that language for what purpose” (33).What happens when there are no historical images that represent your identity? How do others learn to see you? How do you learn to represent yourself? This article addresses the challenges that bisexuals face in constructing and contending with media representations of non-normative sexualities. As Berger suggests: “A people or class which is cut off from its own past is far less free to choose and to act as a people or class than one that has been able to situate itself in history” (33). This article seeks to apply Berger’s core concepts in Ways of Seeing studying representations of bisexuality in mainstream media. How bisexuality is represented, and therefore observed, shapes what can ultimately be culturally understood and recognized.This article explores how bisexuals use digital media to construct self-representations and brand a bisexual identity. Bisexual representations are particularly relevant to study as they are often rendered invisible by the cultural hegemony of monosexuality. Cultural norms ideologically shape the intelligibility of representation; bisexuality is often misinterpreted when read within the dominant binaries of heterosexuality and homosexuality in Western European culture. This work addresses how users adapt visual, textual, and hyperlinked information in online spaces to create representations that can be culturally recognized. Users want to be seen as bisexuals. The research for this article examined online social spaces created by and for bisexuals between 2013-2015, as well as mainstream media addressing bisexuality or bisexual characters. The social spaces studied included national and regional websites for bisexual organizations, blogs dedicated to bisexual issues and topics, and public bisexual groups on Facebook and Tumblr. Participant observation and semiotic analysis was employed to analyze how bisexual representation was discussed and performed. Learning to See Bisexuality Bisexuality is often constructed within the domain of medical and psychological classification systems as a sexual identity situated between one polarity or the other: between desiring men or desiring women as sexual partners or between being gay or being straight in sexual orientation, as most widely put forth by Alfred Kinsey in the 1950s (Kinsey et al., 1948; e.g., Blumstein, 1977; Diamond, 1993; Weinberg, 1995). This popularly held conception has a particular history that serves to reinforce the normative categories of heterosexuality and monosexuality.This history does not reflect bisexual’s accounts of their own experiences of what it means to be bisexual. Bisexuals in the spaces I study express their sexuality as fluid both in terms of gender (objects of desire do not have to identify as only male or female) as well as in terms of the lifespan (desire based on sex or gender does not have remain consistent throughout one’s life). As one participant remarked: “I think of bisexual as a different orientation from both homosexuals (who orient exclusively towards same-sex romance/sexuality) and heterosexuals (who orient exclusively toward opposite-sex romance/sexuality). Bisexuals seem to think about the world in a different way: a world of ‘AND’ rather than a world of ‘OR’.” Or as another participant noted: “I saw video a couple of months ago that described ‘bi’ as being attracted to ‘same and different sexed people.’ I considered my internal debate settled at that point. Yes, it is binary, but only in the broadest sense.”This data from my research is congruent with data from much larger studies that examined longitudinal psycho-social development of bisexual identities (Klein, 1978; Barker, 2007; Diamond, 2008). Individuals’ narratives of a more “fluid” identity suggest an emphasis at the individual level less about fluctuating between “two” possible types of sexual partners than about a dynamic, complex desire within a coherent self. Nevertheless, popular constructions of bisexuality in media continue to emphasize it within hegemonic monosexual ideologies.Heterosexual relationships are overwhelmingly the most dominant relationship type portrayed in media, and the second most portrayed relationship is homosexuality, or a serial monogamy towards only one gender. This pairing is not only conveying the dominant hegemonic norms of heterosexuality (and most often paired with serial monogamy as well), but it is equally and powerfully reproducing the hegemonic ideal of monosexuality. Monosexuality is the romantic or sexual attraction to members of one sex or gender group only. A monosexual person may identify as either heterosexual or homosexual, the key element being that their sexual or romantic attraction remains consistently directed towards one sex or gender group. In this way, we have all been socialized since childhood to value not only monogamy but monosexuality as well. However, current research on sexuality suggests that self-identified bisexuals are the largest group among non-heterosexuals. In 2011, Dr. Gary Gates, Research Director of the Williams Institute at UCLA School of Law, analyzed data collected from nine national health surveys from the USA, United Kindgdom, Canada, Australia and Norway to provide the most comprehensive statistics available to date on how many people self-identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender. While the population percentage of LGBT people varied by country, the ratio of lesbian, gay and bisexuals among LGBT people remained consistent, with self-identified bisexuals accounting for 40-60% of all LGBT populations regardless of country. This data is significant for challenging the popular assumption that bisexuals are a small minority among non-heterosexuals; indeed, this data indicates that non-monosexuals represent half of all non-heterosexuals. Yet we have learned to recognize monosexuality as dominant, normal and naturalized, even within LGBT representations. Conversely, we struggle to even recognize relationships that fall outside of this hegemonic norm. In essence, we lack ways of seeing bisexuals, pansexuals, omnisexuals, asexuals, and all queer-identified individuals who do not conform to monosexuality. We quite literally have not learned to see them, or—worse yet—learned how to not see them.Bisexual representations are particularly relevant to study as they are often rendered invisible in cultures that practice monogamy paired with hegemonic monosexuality. Members of bisexual spaces desire to achieve recognition but struggle to overcome bisexual erasure in their daily lives.Misrepresention: The Triad in Popular MediaWhen bisexuality is portrayed in media it is most commonly portrayed in a disingenuous manner where the bisexual is portrayed as being torn between potential lovers, on a pathway from straight to gay, or as a serial liar and cheater who cannot remain monogamous due to overwhelming attractions. Representations of bisexuals in media are infrequent, but those that are available too often follow these inaccurate stereotypes. By far the most common convention for representing bisexuality in visual media is the use of the triad: three people convey the (mis)representation of bisexuality as a sexuality in the “middle” of heterosexuality and homosexuality. For the purpose of this article, data analysis will be limited to print magazines for the sake of length and clarity.The 2014 New York Times Magazine article “The Scientific Quest to Prove Bisexuality Exists” (Denizet-Lewis) addresses the controversial nature of bisexuality. The cover image depicts a close-up of a man’s face, separated into two halves: in one half, a woman is nuzzled up to the man’s cheek, and the other half a man is nuzzled up to his ear. Presumably the man is bisexual and therefore split into two parts: his heterosexual self and his homosexual self. This visual depiction of bisexuality reifies the notion that bisexuals are torn between two polar desires and experience equal and concurrent attraction to more than one partner simultaneously. Furthermore, the triad represented in this way suggests that the essential bisexual is having simultaneous liaisons with heterosexual and homosexual partners.Within the convention of the triad there is also a sub-genre closely connected with hypersexualization and the male gaze. In these cases, the triad is commonly presented in varying states of undress and/or in a bed. An article in The Guardian from 11 April 2014 with the headline: “Make up your mind! The science behind bisexuality” (Browne) includes an image with three attractive young people in bed together. A man is sitting up between two sleeping women and smoking a cigarette – the cigarette connotes post-coital sexual activity, as does the smirk on his face. This may have been a suitable image if the article had been about having a threesome, but the headline—and the article—are attempting to explain the science behind bisexuality. Furthermore, while the image is intended to illustrate an article on bisexuality, the image is fundamentally misleading. The women in the image are asleep and to the side and the man is awake and in the middle. He is the central figure – it is a picture of him. So who is the bisexual in the image? What is the image attempting to do? It seems that the goal is to titillate, to excite, and to satisfy a particularly heterosexual fantasy rather than to discuss bisexuality. This hypersexualization once again references the mistaken idea (or heterosexual male fantasy) that bisexuality is only expressed through simultaneous sex acts.Many of these examples are salacious but they occur with surprising regularity in the mainstream media. On 17 February 2016, the American Association of Retired Persons posted an article to the front page of their website titled “Am I Discovering I'm Bisexual?” (Schwartz, 2016). In the accompanying image at the top of the article, we see three people sitting on a park bench – two men on either side of a woman. The image is taken from behind the bench so we see their backs and ostensibly they do not see us, the viewer. The man on the left is kissing the woman in the center while also holding hands behind the back of the bench with the man sitting on her other side. The man on the right is looking away from the couple kissing, suggesting he is not directly included in their intimate activity. Furthermore, the two men are holding hands behind the bench, which could also be code for behind the woman’s back, suggesting infidelity to the dyad and depicting some form of duplicity. This triad reinforces the trope of the bisexual as promiscuous and untrustworthy.Images such as these are common and range from the more inoffensive to the salacious. The resulting implications are that bisexuals are torn between their internal hetero and homo desires, require simultaneous partners, and are untrustworthy partners. Notably, in all these images it is never clear exactly which individuals are bisexual. Are all three members of the triad bisexual? While this is a possible read, the dominant discourse leads us to believe that one of person in the triad is the bisexual while the others adhere to more dominant sexualities.Participants in my research were acutely aware of these media representations and expressed frequent negative reactions to the implications of the triad. Each article contained numerous online comments expressing frustration with the use of “threesomes.” As one commentator stated: “Without a threesome, we’re invisible. It’s messed up. I always imagine a t-shirt with 3 couples stick figure like: girl + girl, girl + boy, and boy + boy. and it says “6 bisexuals.” What is made clear in many user comments is that the mainstream social scripts used to portray bisexuality are clearly at odds with the ways in which bisexuals choose to describe or portray themselves. Seeing through CapitalismOne of the significant conclusions of this research was the ways in which the misrepresentation of bisexuality results in many individuals feeling underrepresented or made invisible within mainstream media. The most salient themes to emerge from this research is participants’ affective struggle with feeling "invisible.” The frequency of discourse specific to invisibility is significant, as well as its expressed negatively associated experiences and feelings. The public sharing of those reactions among individuals, and the ensuing discourse that emerges from those interactions, include imagining what visibility “looks” like (its semiotic markers and what would make those markers “successful” for visibility), and the articulation of “solutions” to counter perceived invisibility. Notably, participants often express the desire for visibility in terms of commodification. As one participant posted, “their [sic] is no style for bi, there is no voice tone, unless I'm wearing my shirt, how is anyone to know?” Another participant explicated, “I wish there was a look. I wish I could get up every day and put on the clothes and jewelry that identified me to the world when I stepped out of my apartment. I wish I was as visible on the street as I am on facebook.” This longing for a culturally recognizable bisexual identity is articulated as a desire for a market commodification of “bisexual.” But a commodified identity may be a misguided desire. As Berger warns: “Publicity is not merely an assembly of competing messages: it is a language in itself which is always being used to make the same general purpose… It proposes to each of us that we transform ourselves, or our lives, by buying something more” (131). Consumerism—and its bedfellow—marketing, aim to sell the fantasy of a future self whereby the consumer transforms themselves through material objects, not transforming the culture to accept them. Berger further elicits that marketing essentially convinces us that we are not whole the way we are and sells us the idea of a wholeness achieved through consumerism (134). Following Berger’s argument, this desire for a commodified identity, while genuine, may fundamentally undermine the autonomy bisexuals currently have insomuch as without a corporate brand, bisexual representations are more culturally malleable and therefore potentially more inclusive to the real diversity of bisexual identified people.However, Berger also rightly noted that “publicity is the culture of the consumer society. It propagates through images that society’s belief in itself” (139). Without any publicity, bisexuals are not wrong to feel invisible in a consumer culture. And yet “publicity turns consumption into a substitute for democracy. The choice of what one eats (or wears or drives) takes the place of significant political choice” (149). A commodified identity will not likely usher in meaningful political change in a culture where bisexuals experience worse mental health and discrimination outcomes than lesbian and gay people (LGBT Advisory Committee, 2011). Bisexuals Online: New Ways of SeeingThe Internet, which was touted early as a space of great potential for anonymity and exploration where visibility can be masked, here becomes the place where bisexuals try to make the perceived invisible ‘visible.’ Digital technologies and spaces provide particularly useful environments for participants of online bisexual spaces to negotiate issues of invisibility as participants construct visible identities through daily posts, threads, videos, and discourse in which bisexuality is discursively and visually imagined, produced, articulated, defended, and desired. But most importantly these digital technologies provide bisexuals with opportunities to counter misrepresentations in mainstream media. In the frequent example of intimate partners in the physical world rendering a bisexual’s identity invisible, participants of these online communities grapple with the seeming paradox of one’s offline self as the avatar and one’s online self as more fully integrated, represented, and recognized. One participant expressed this experience, remarking:I feel I'm more out online that offline. That's because, in the offline world there's the whole ''social assumptions'' issue. My co-workers, friends, etc, know I have a boyfriend, wich [sic] equals ''straight'' for most ppl out there. So, I'll out myself when the occasion comes (talking abt smn I used to date, the LGBT youth group I used to belong to, or usually just abt some girl I find attractive) and usually ppl are not surprised. Whereas online, my pic at Facebook (and Orkut) is a Bisexual Pride icon. I follow Bi groups on Twitter. I'm a member of bi groups. So, online it's spelled out, while offline ppl usually think me having a bf means I'm straight.The I Am Visible (IAV) campaign is just one example of an organized response to the perceived erasure of bisexuals in mainstream culture. Launched in January 2011 by Adrienne McCue (nee Williams), the executive director of the Bi Social Network, a non-profit organization aimed at bringing awareness to representations of bisexuality in media. The campaign was hosted on bisocialnetwork.com, with the goal to “stop biphobia and bi-erasure in our community, media, news, and entertainment,” Prior to going live, IAV implemented a six-month lead-up advertising campaign across multiple online bisexual forums, making it the most publicized new venture during the period of my study. IAV hosted user-generated videos and posters that followed the vernacular of coming out and provided emotional support for listeners who may be struggling with their identity in a world largely hostile to bisexuality. Perceived invisibility was the central theme of IAV, which was the most salient theme for every bisexual group I studied online.Perhaps the most notable video and still image series to come out of IAV were those including Emmy nominated Scottish actor Alan Cumming. Cumming, a long-time Broadway thespian and acclaimed film actor, openly identifies as bisexual and has criticized ‘gaystream’ outlets on more than one occasion for intentionally mislabeling him as ‘gay.’ As such, Alan Cumming is one of the most prominently celebrated bisexual celebrities during the time of my study. While there are numerous famous out gays and lesbians in the media industry who have lent their celebrity status to endorse LGBT political messages—such as Ellen DeGeneres, Elton John, and Neil Patrick Harris, to name a few—there have been notably fewer celebrities supporting bisexual specific causes. Therefore, Cummings involvement with IAV was significant for many bisexuals. His star status was perceived as contributing legitimacy to bisexuality and increasing cultural visibility for bisexuals.These campaigns to become more visible are based in the need to counteract the false media narrative, which is, in a sense, to educate the wider society as to what bisexuality is not. The campaigns are an attempt to repair the false messages which have been “learnt” and replace them with more accurate representations. The Internet provides bisexual activists with a tool with which they can work to correct the skewed media image of themselves. Additionally, the Internet has also become a place where bisexuals can more easily represent themselves through a wide variety of semiotic markers in ways which would be difficult or unacceptable offline. In these ways, the Internet has become a key device in bisexual activism and while it is important not to uncritically praise the technology it plays an important role in enabling correct representation. ReferencesBarker, Meg. "Heteronormativity and the Exclusion of Bisexuality in Psychology." Out in Psychology: Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans, and Queer Perspectives. Eds. Victoria Clarke and Elizabeth Peel. Chichester: Wiley, 2007. 86–118.Berger, John. Ways of Seeing. London: Penguin Books, 1972.Blumstein, Phillip W., and Pepper Schwartz. “Bisexuality: Some Social Psychological Issues.” Journal of Social Issues 33.2 (1977): 30–45.Browne, Tania. “Make Up Your Mind! The Science behind Bisexuality.” The Guardian 11 Apr. 2014.Denizet-Lewis, Benoit. "The Scientific Quest to Prove Bisexuality Exists." New York Times 20 Mar. 2014.Diamond, Lisa. Sexual Fluidity: Understanding Women's Love and Desire. Harvard UP, 2008.Diamond, Milton. “Homosexuality and Bisexuality in Different Populations.” Archives of Sexual Behavior 22.4 (1993): 291-310.Gates, Gary J. How Many People Are Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender? Williams Institute, UCLA School of Law, 2011.Kinsey, Alfred, et al. Sexual Behavior in the Human Female. Philadelphia: Saunders, 1953.Klein, Fitz. The Bisexual Option. London: Routledge, 1978.Leland, J. “Not Gay, Not Straight: A New Sexuality Emerges.” Newsweek 17 July 1995: 44–50.Schwartz, P. “Am I Discovering I Am Bisexual?” AARP (2016). 20 Mar. 2016 <http://aarp.org/home-family/sex-intimacy/info-2016/discovering-bisexual-schwartz.html>.

Introduction In The X-Files episode “Humbug”, agents Scully and Mulder travel to Florida to investigate a series of murders taking place in a community of sideshow performers, or freaks. At the episode’s end, one character, a self-made freak and human blockhead, muses on the future of the freak community:twenty-first century genetic engineering will not only eradicate the Siamese twins and the alligator-skinned people, but you’re going to be hard-pressed to find a slight overbite or a not-so-high cheek bone … . Nature abhors normality. It can’t go very long without creating a mutant. (“Humbug”) Freaks, he says, are there to remind people of the necessity of mutations. His observation that genetic engineering will eradicate anomalies of nature accurately illustrates the gradual shift that society was witnessing in the late twentieth century away from the anomalous freak and toward surgical perfection. Yet this desire for perfection, which has manifested itself in often severe surgical deformities, has seen a shift in what constitutes the freak for a contemporary audience, turning what was once an anomaly into a mass-produced creation. While the freaks of the nineteenth and early twentieth century were born with facial or anatomical deformities that warranted their place in the sideshow performance (bearded ladies, midgets, faints, lobster men, alligator-skinned people, etc.), freaks of the twenty-first century can be seen as something created by a plastic surgeon, a shift which undermines the very understanding of freak ontology. As Katherine Dunne put it: “a true freak cannot be made. A true freak must be born” (28). In her discussion of the monstrous body, Linda Williams writes that “the monster’s body is perceived as freakish in its possession of too much or too little” (63). This may have included a missing or additional limb, distorted sizes and heights, and anatomical growths. John Merrick, or the “Elephant Man” (fig. 1), as he was famously known, perfectly embodied this sense of excess that is vital to what people perceive as the monstrous body. In his discussion of freaks and the freakshow, Robert Bogdan notes that promotional posters exaggerated the already-deformed nature of freaks by emphasising certain physical anomalies and turning them into mythological creatures: “male exhibits with poorly formed arms were billed as ‘The Seal Man’; with poorly formed legs, ‘the Frog Man’; with excesses of hair, ‘The Lion Man’ or ‘Dog Boy’” (100). Figure 1: John Merrick (the Elephant Man) <https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/193584483966192229/>.The freak’s anomalous nature made them valuable, financially but also culturally: “in many ways, the concept of ‘freak,’ is an anomaly in current social scientific thinking about demonstrable human variation. During its prime the freak show was a place where human deviance was valuable, and in that sense valued” (Bogdan 268). Many freaks were presented as “human wonders”, while “their claims to fame were quite commonplace” (Bogdan 200). Indeed, Bogdan argues that “while highly aggrandized exhibits really were full of grandeur, with respectable freaks the mundane was exploited as amazing and ordinary people were made into human wonders” (200). Lucian Gomoll similarly writes that freakshows “directed judgement away from the audience and onto the performers, assuring observers of their own unmarked normalcy” (“Objects of Dis/Order” 205).The anomalous nature of the freak therefore promoted the safety of normality at the same time as it purported to showcase the brilliance of the extraordinary. While the freaks themselves were normal, intelligent people, the freakshow served as a vehicle to gaze at oneself with a sense of relief. As much as many freakshows attempt to dismantle notions of normality, they serve to emphasise empathy, not envy. The anomalous freak is never an envied body; the particular dimensions of the freakshow mean that it is the viewer who is to be envied, and the freak who is to be pitied. From Freakshow to SideshowIn nineteenth-century freakshows, exploitation was rife; as Alison Piepmeier explains, “many of the so-called Aztecs, Pinheads, and What Is Its?”, were, in fact, “mentally disabled people dressed in wild costumes and forced to perform” (53). As a result, “freakishness often implied loss of control over one’s self and one’s destiny” (53). P.T. Barnum profited from his exploitation of freaks, while many freaks themselves also benefited from being exhibited. As Jessica Williams writes, “many freak show performers were well paid, self-sufficient, and enjoyed what they did” (69). Bogdan similarly pointed out that “some [freaks] were exploited, it is true, but in the culture of the amusement world, most human oddities were accepted as showmen. They were congratulated for parlaying into an occupation [that], in another context, might have been a burden” (268). Americans of all classes, Anissa Janine Wardi argues, enjoyed engaging in the spectacle of the freak. She writes that “it is not serendipitous that the golden age of the freak show coincided with the building of America’s colonial empire” (518). Indeed, the “exploration of the non-Western world, coupled with the transatlantic slave trade, provided the backdrop for America’s imperialist gaze, with the native ‘other’ appearing not merely in the arena of popular entertainment, but particularly in scientific and medical communities” (518). Despite the accusations levelled against Barnum, his freakshows were seen as educational and therefore beneficial to both the public and the scientific community, who, thanks to Barnum, directly benefited from the commercialisation of and rising public interest in the freak. Discussing “western conventions of viewing exotic others”, Lucian Gomoll writes that “the freak and the ‘normal’ subject produced each other in a relationship of uneven reciprocity” (“Feminist Pleasures” 129). He writes that Barnum “encouraged onlookers to define their own identities in contrast to those on display, as not disabled, not animalistic, not androgynous, not monstrous and so on”. By the twentieth century, he writes, “shows like Barnum’s were banned from public spaces as repugnant and intolerable, and forced to migrate to the margins” (129).Gomoll commends the Freakatorium, a museum curated by the late sword swallower Johnny Fox, as “demonstrating and commemorating the resourcefulness and talents of those pushed to the social margins” (“Objects of Dis/Order” 207). Gomoll writes that Fox did not merely see freaks as curiosities in the way that Barnum did. Instead, Fox provided a dignified memorial that celebrated the uniqueness of each freak. Fox’s museum displays, he writes, are “respectable spaces devoted to the lives of amazing people, which foster potential empathy from the viewers – a stark contrast to nineteenth-century freakshows” (205). Fox himself described the necessity of the Freakatorium in the wake of the sideshow: New York needs a place where people can come see the history of freakdom. People that were born with deformities that were still amazing and sensitive people and they allowed themselves to be viewed and exhibited. They made a good living off doing that. Those people were to be commended for their courageousness and bravery for standing in front of people. (Hartzman)Fox also described the manner in which the sideshow circuit was banned over time:then sideshows went out because some little girl was offended because she thought the only place she could work was the sideshow. Her mother thought it was disgraceful that people exhibited themselves so she started calling the governor and state’s attorney trying to get sideshows banned. I think it was Florida or South Carolina. It started happening in other states. They said no exhibiting human anomalies. These people who had been working in sideshows for years had their livelihood taken away from them. What now, they’re supposed to go be institutionalized? (Hartzman) Elizabeth Stephens argues that a shift occurred in the early twentieth century, and that by the late ‘30s “people with physical anomalies had been transformed in the cultural imagination from human oddities or monsters to sick people requiring diagnoses and medical intervention” (Stephens). Bogdan noted that by the 1930s, “the meaning of being different changed in American society. Scientific medicine had undermined the mystery of certain forms of human variation, and the exotic and aggrandized modes had lost their flamboyant attractiveness” (274). So-called freaks became seen as diseased bodies who “were now in the province of physicians, not the general public” (274). Indeed, scientific interest transformed the freak into a medical curiosity, contributing to the waning popularity of freakshows. Ironically, although the freaks declined in popularity as they moved into the medical community, medicine would prove to be the domain of a new kind of freak in the ensuing years. The Manufactured Freak As the freakshow declined in popularity, mainstream culture found other subjects whose appearance provoked curiosity, awe, and revulsion. Although plastic surgery is associated with the mid-to-late twentieth century and beyond, it has a long history in the medical practice. In A History of Plastic Surgery, Paolo Santoni-Rugiu and Philip J. Sykes note that “operations for the sole purpose of improving appearances came on the scene in 1906” (322). Charles C. Miller was one of the earliest pioneers of plastic surgery; Santoni-Rugiu and Sykes write that “he never disguised the fact that his ambition was to do Featural Surgery, correcting imperfections that from a medical point of view were not considered to be deformities” (302). This attitude would fundamentally transform notions of the “normal” body. In the context of cosmetic surgery, it is the normal body that becomes manipulated in order to produce something which, despite intentions, proves undoubtedly freakish. Although men certainly engage in plastic surgery (notably Igor and Grichka Bogdanoff) the twenty-first century surgical freak is synonymous with women. Kirsty Fairclough-Isaacs points out the different expectations levelled against men and women with respect to ageing and plastic surgery. While men, she says, “are closely scrutinised for attempting to hide signs of ageing, particularly hair loss”, women, in contrast, “are routinely maligned if they fail to hide the signs of ageing” (363). She observes that while popular culture may accept the ageing man, the ageing woman is less embraced by society. Consequently, women are encouraged—by the media, their fans, and by social norms around beauty—to engage in surgical manipulation, but in such a way as to make their enhancements appear seamless. Women who have successful plastic surgery—in the sense that their ageing is well-hidden—are accepted as having successfully manipulated their faces so as to appear flawless, while those whose surgical exploits are excessive or turn out badly become decidedly freakish. One of the most infamous plastic surgery cases is that of Jocelyn Wildenstein, also known as “catwoman”. Born Jocelynnys Dayannys da Silva Bezerra Périsset in 1940, Wildenstein met billionaire art dealer Alec N. Wildenstein whom she married in the late 1970s. After discovering her husband was being unfaithful, Wildenstein purportedly turned to cosmetic surgery in order to sculpt her face to resemble a cat, her husband’s favourite animal. Ironically but not surprisingly, her husband purportedly screamed in terror when he saw his wife’s revamped face for the first time. And although their relationship ended in divorce, Wildenstein, dubbed “the Bride of Wildenstein”, continued to visit her plastic surgeon, and her face became progressively more distorted over the years (Figure 2). Figure 2: Jocelyn Wildenstein over the years <https://i.redd.it/vhh3yp6tgki31.jpg>. The exaggerated and freakish contours of Wildenstein’s face would undoubtedly remind viewers of the anatomical exaggerations seen in traditional freaks. Yet she does not belong to the world of the nineteenth century freak. Her deformities are self-inflicted in an attempt to fulfil certain mainstream beauty ideals to exaggerated lengths. Like many women, Wildenstein has repeatedly denied ever having received plastic surgery, claiming that her face is natural, while professing admiration for Brigitte Bardot, her beauty idol. Such denial has made her the target of further criticism, since women are not only expected to conceal the signs of ageing successfully but are also ironically expected to be honest and transparent about having had work done to their faces and bodies, particularly when it is obvious. The role that denial plays not just in Wildenstein’s case, but in plastic surgery cases more broadly, constitutes a “desirability of naturalness” (122), according to Debra Gimlin. There is, she argues, an “aesthetic preference for (surgically enhanced) ‘naturalness’” (122), a desire that sits between the natural body and the freak. This kind of appearance promotes more of an uncanny naturalness that removes signs of ageing but without being excessive; as opposed to women whose use of plastic surgery is obvious (and deemed excessive according to Williams’ “monstrous body”) the unnatural look that some plastic surgery promotes is akin to an absence of normal features, such as wrinkles. One surgeon that Gimlin cites argues that he would not remove the wrinkles of a woman in her 60s: “she’s gonna look like a freak without them”, he says. This admission signifies a clear distinction between what we understand as freakish plastic surgery (Wildenstein) and the not-yet-freakish appearance of women whose surgically enhanced appearance is at once uncanny and accepted, perpetuating norms around plastic surgery and beauty. Denial is thus part of the fabric of performing naturalness and the desire to make the unnatural seem natural, adding another quasi-freakish dimension to the increasingly normalised appearance of surgically enhanced women. While Wildenstein is mocked for her grotesque appearance, in addition to her denial of having had plastic surgery, women who have navigated plastic surgery successfully are congratulated and envied. Although contemporary media increasingly advocates the ability to age naturally, with actresses like Helen Mirren and Meryl Streep frequently cited as natural older beauties, natural ageing is only accepted to the extent that this look of naturalness is appeasing. Unflattering, unaltered naturalness, on the other hand, is demonised, with such women encouraged to turn to the knife after all in order to achieve a more acceptable look of natural ageing, one that will inevitably and ironically provoke further criticism. For women considering plastic surgery, they are damned if they do and damned if they don’t. Grant McCracken notes the similarities between Wildenstein and the famous French body artist Orlan: “like Orlan, Wildenstein had engaged in an extravagant, destructive creativity. But where Orlan sought transformational opportunity by moving upward in the Renaissance hierarchy, toward saints and angels, Wildenstein moved downwards, toward animals” (25). McCracken argues that it isn’t entirely clear whether Orlan and Wildenstein are “outliers or precursors” to the contemporary obsession with plastic surgery. But he notes how the transition of plastic surgery from a “shameful secret” to a ubiquitous if not obligatory phenomenon coincides with the surgical work of Orlan and Wildenstein. “The question remains”, he says, “what will we use this surgery to do to ourselves? Orlan and Wildenstein suggest two possibilities” (26).Meredith Jones, in her discussion of Wildenstein, echoes the earlier sentiments of Williams in regards to the monster’s body possessing too much or too little. In Wildenstein’s case, her freakishness is provoked by excess: “when too many body parts become independent they are deemed too disparate: wayward children who no longer lend harmony or respect to their host body. Jocelyn Wildenstein’s features do this: her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead and her lips are all striking enough to be deemed untoward” (125). For Jones, the combination of these features “form a grotesquery that means their host can only be deemed, at best, perversely beautiful” (125). Wildenstein has been referred to as a “modern-day freak”, and to a certain extent she does share something in common with the nineteenth century freak, specifically through the manner in which her distorted features invite viewers to gawk. Like the Elephant Man, her freakish body possesses “too much”, as Williams put it. Yet her appearance evokes none of the empathy afforded traditional freaks, whose facial or anatomical deformities were inherent and thus cause for empathy. They played no role in the formation of their deformities, only reclaiming agency once they exhibited themselves. While Wildenstein is, certainly, an anomaly in the sense that she is the only known woman who has had her features surgically altered to appear cat-like, her appearance more broadly represents an unnerving trajectory that reconstructs the freak as someone manufactured rather than born, upending Katherine Dunne’s assertion that true freaks are born, not made. Indeed, Wildenstein can be seen as a precursor to Nannette Hammond and Valeria Lukyanova, women who surgically enhanced their faces and bodies to resemble a real-life Barbie doll. Hammond, a woman from Cincinnati, has been called the first ‘Human Barbie’, chronicling the surgical process on her Instagram account. She states that her children and husband are “just so proud of me and what I’ve achieved through surgery” (Levine). This surgery has included numerous breast augmentations, botox injections and dental veneers, in addition to eyelash extensions and monthly fake tans. But while Hammond is certainly considered a “scalpel junkie”, Valeria Lukyanova’s desire to transform herself into a living Barbie doll is particularly uncanny. Michael’s Idov’s article in GQ magazine titled: “This is not a Barbie Doll. This is an Actual Human Being” attests to the uncanny appearance of Lukyanova. “Meeting Valeria Lukyanova is the closest you will come to an alien encounter”, Idov writes, describing the “queasy fear” he felt upon meeting her. “A living Barbie is automatically an Uncanny Valley Girl. Her beauty, though I hesitate to use the term, is pitched at the exact precipice where the male gaze curdles in on itself.” Lukyanova, a Ukrainian, admits to having had breast implants, but denies that she has had any more modifications, despite the uncanny symmetry of her face and body that would otherwise allude to further surgeries (Figure 3). Importantly, Lukyanova’s transformation both fulfils and affronts beauty standards. In this sense, she is at once freakish but does not fit the profile of the traditional freak, whose deformities are never confused with ideals of beauty, at least not in theory. While Johnny Fox saw freaks as talented, unique individuals, their appeal was borne of their defiance of the ideal, rather than a reinforcement of it, and the fact that their appearance was anomalous and unique, rather than reproducible at whim. Figure 3: Valeria Lukyanova with a Barbie Doll <http://shorturl.at/mER06>.Conclusion As a modern-day freak, these Barbie girls are a specific kind of abomination that undermines the very notion of the freak due to their emphasis on acceptance, on becoming mainstream, rather than being confined to the margins. As Jones puts it: “if a trajectory […] is drawn between mainstream cosmetic surgery and these individuals who have ‘gone too far’, we see that while they may be ‘freaks’ now, they nevertheless point towards a moment when such modifications could in fact be near mainstream” (188). The emphasis that is placed on mainstream acceptance and reproducibility in these cases affronts traditional notions of the freak as an anomalous individual whose features cannot be replicated. But the shift that society has seen towards genetic and surgical perfection has only accentuated the importance of biological anomalies who affront the status quo. While Wildenstein and the Barbie girls may provoke a similar sense of shock, revulsion and pity as the Elephant Man experienced, they possess none of the exceptionality or cultural importance of real freaks, whose very existence admonishes mainstream standards of beauty, ability, and biology. References Bogdan, Robert. Freak Show: Presenting Human Oddities for Amusement and Profit. Chicago and London: U of Chicago P, 1990. Dunne, Katherine. Geek Love. London: Abacus, 2015. Fairclough-Isaacs, Kirsty. "Celebrity Culture and Ageing." Routledge Handbook of Cultural Gerontology. Eds. Julia Twigg and Wendy Martin. New York: Routledge, 2015. 361-368.Gimlin, Debra. Cosmetic Surgery Narratives: A Cross-Cultural Analysis of Women’s Accounts. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012. Gommol, Lucian. “The Feminist Pleasures of Coco Rico’s Social Interventions.” Art and the Artist in Society. Eds. José Jiménez-Justiniano, Elsa Luciano Feal, and Jane Elizabeth Alberdeston. Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2013. 119-134. ———. “Objects of Dis/Order: Articulating Curiosities and Engaging People at the Freakatorium.” Defining Memory: Local Museums and the Construction of History in America’s Changing Communities. Eds. Amy K. Levin and Joshua G. Adair. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2017. 197-212. Hartzman, Marc. “Johnny Fox: A Tribute to the King of Swords.” Weird Historian. 17 Dec. 2017. <https://www.weirdhistorian.com/johnny-fox-a-tribute-to-the-king-of-swords/>.“Humbug.” The X-Files: The Complete Season 3. Writ. Darin Morgan. Dir. Kim Manners. Fox, 2007. Idov, Michael. “This Is Not a Barbie Doll. This Is an Actual Human Being.” GQ. 12 July 2017. <https://www.gq.com/story/valeria-lukyanova-human-barbie-doll>.Jones, Meredith. Skintight: An Anatomy of Cosmetic Surgery. Oxford: Berg, 2008.McCracken, Grant. Transformations: Identity Construction in Contemporary Culture. Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana UP, 2008.Levine, Daniel D. “Before and After: What $500,000 of Plastic Surgery Bought Human Barbie.” PopCulture.com. 7 Dec. 2017. <https://popculture.com/trending/news/nannette-hammond-before-human-barbie-cost-photos/>. Piepmeier, Alison. Out in Public: Configurations of Women's Bodies in Nineteenth-Century America. Chapel Hill and London: U of North Carolina P, 2004. Santoni-Rugiu, Paolo, and Philip J. Sykes. A History of Plastic Surgery. Berlin: Springer-Verlag, 2017. Stephens, Elizabeth. “Twenty-First Century Freak Show: Recent Transformations in the Exhibition of Non-Normative Bodies.” Disability Studies Quarterly 25.3 (2005). <https://dsq-sds.org/article/view/580/757>.Wardi, Anissa Janine. “Freak Shows, Spectacles, and Carnivals: Reading Jonathan Demme’s Beloved.” African American Review 39.4 (Winter 2005): 513-526.Williams, Jessica L. Media, Performative Identity, and the New American Freak Show. London and New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2017. Williams, Linda. “When the Woman Looks.” Horror, The Film Reader. Ed. Mark Jancovich. London and New York: Routledge, 2002. 61-66.

In the historical record of man there have been periods of great and far-reaching. One of these phases is the current globalization. This is rooted in the period when, through the deed of Columbus and his discovery of America, a strong rudder was given to the religious conceptions of the world and the universe. This academic way of thinking, although it has a lot of ideal, is a north that has concurred in the search for a better being and, therefore, to the essential mark with which the future can be visualized. In its decision, it is not, in its budgets, to seek to impoverish sectors or regions by capturing rents and wealth, but to build inclusive prosperity scenarios that could be reviewed and studied in Singapore. However, next to that optimistic vision, the version anchored in dispossession and corruption is a reality. In a big balance, it can be said that, in this feat, for the first time you think of solutions as a planet, not as a romantic exploration adventure, like Columbus's. It is globalization with benefits for all.En el registro histórico del hombre han existido períodos de gran y largo alcance. Una de estas fases es la actual globalización. Esta hunde sus raíces en el período en que, a través de la gesta de Colón y su descubrimiento de América, se dio un fuerte golpe de timón a las concepciones religiosas del mundo y del universo. Esta forma académica de pensar, si bien, tiene mucho de ideal, Es un norte que ha concurrido a la búsqueda de un mejor estar y, por tanto, a la impronta esencial con la que se pueda visualizar el futuro. En su decantación, no se trata, en sus presupuestos, de buscar empobrecer sectores o regiones capturando rentas y riqueza, sino construir escenarios incluyentes de prosperidad como pudieron ser revisados y estudiados en Singapur. Sin embargo, al lado de esa visión optimista, concurre como realidad la versión anclada en el despojo y la corrupción. En un gran balance, se puede decir que, en esta gesta, por primera vez se piensa en soluciones como planeta, no como aventura romántica de exploración, como la de Colón. Es la globalización con beneficios para todos.No registro histórico do homem houve períodos de grande e de longo alcance. Uma dessas fases é a atual globalização. Isto está enraizado no período em que, através da escritura de Colombo e sua descoberta da América, um forte leme foi dado às concepções religiosas do mundo e do universo. Esse modo de pensar acadêmico, embora tenha muito ideal, é um norte que tem concorrido na busca de um ser melhor e, portanto, na marca essencial com a qual o futuro pode ser visualizado. Em sua decisão, não é, em seus orçamentos, procurar empobrecer setores ou regiões capturando aluguéis e riqueza, mas construir cenários de prosperidade inclusivos que poderiam ser revisados e estudados em Cingapura. Entretanto, ao lado dessa visão otimista, a versão ancorada na desapropriação e corrupção é uma realidade. Em um grande balanço, pode-se dizer que, nesse feito, pela primeira vez, você pensa em soluções como um planeta, não como uma aventura de exploração romântica, como a de Colombo. É a globalização com benefícios para todos

Dans la hiérarchie morale de la géographie du corps, le visage (avec les organes sexuels) incarne la valeur la plus élevée. Toute blessure à son propos est vécue dramatiquement à la différence d’atteintes ailleurs dans le corps. On parle de défiguration pour une altération sérieuse du visage, il n’existe aucun équivalent pour les mains, les jambes, la poitrine, etc. La défiguration des traits altère la figuration sociale de l’individu (Le Breton 2014). Dans nos sociétés contemporaines en effet, le visage est le lieu de la reconnaissance mutuelle, le visage est nu et offre au jugement des autres des traits qui identifient. À travers eux nous sommes reconnus, nommés, jugés, assignés à un sexe, à un âge, une couleur de peau, nous sommes aimés, méprisés, ou anonymes, noyés dans l’indifférence de la foule. Entrer dans la connaissance d'autrui implique de lui donner à voir et à comprendre un visage nourri de sens et de valeur, et faire en écho de son propre visage un lieu égal de signification et d'intérêt. La réciprocité des échanges au sein du lien social implique l’identification et la reconnaissance mutuelle des visages, support essentiel de la communication. Dans nos sociétés individualistes, la valeur du visage s’impose là où la reconnaissance de soi ou de l'autre se fait à partir de l'individualité et non sur l'appartenance à un groupe ou à la position au sein d'une lignée. La singularité du visage répond à celle de l'individu, artisan du sens et des valeurs de son existence, autonome et responsable de ses choix. Il n’est plus l’homme ou la femme du « nous autres » comme souvent dans les sociétés traditionnelles, mais du « personnellement moi, je ». Pour que l'individu prenne socialement et culturellement sens, il faut un lieu du corps pour le distinguer avec une force suffisante, un lieu suffisamment variable dans ses déclinaisons pour signifier sans ambiguïté la différence d'un individu à un autre. Il faut le corps comme marque de la limite de soi avec le monde extérieur et les autres, le corps comme frontière de l'identité. Et il faut le visage comme territoire du corps où s'inscrit la distinction individuelle (Le Breton 2016 ; 2014). Nul espace du corps n'est plus approprié pour marquer la singularité de l'individu et la signaler socialement. « Peut-être, dit Simmel, des corps se distinguent-ils à l'œil exercé aussi bien que les visages, mais ils n'expliquent pas la différence comme le fait un visage » (Simmel 1988 : 140). De l’enfant au vieillard, d’un bout à l’autre de l’existence, demeure dans le visage un air de ressemblance, un mystère qui souligne la fidélité à soi. Le visage est signification, traduisant sous une forme vivante et énigmatique l'absolu d'une différence individuelle pourtant infime. Écart infinitésimal, il invite à comprendre le mystère qui se tient là, à la fois si proche et si insaisissable. Il demeure unique parmi l'infini des déclinaisons possibles sur un même canevas simple. L'étroitesse de la scène du visage n'est en rien une entrave à la multitude des combinaisons. Une infinité de formes et d'expressions naissent d'un alphabet d'une simplicité déconcertante : des mimiques construites par l’éclat et la direction du regard, un front, des lèvres, etc. Certes, le visage relie à une communauté sociale et culturelle par le façonnement des traits et de l'expressivité, ses mimiques et ses mouvements renvoient à une symbolique sociale, mais il trace une voie royale pour démarquer l'individu et traduire son unicité. Plus une société accorde de l'importance à l'individualité, plus grandit la valeur du visage. Sans visage pour l’identifier n’importe qui ferait n’importe quoi, tout serait égal, la confiance serait impossible, l’éthique n’aurait plus aucun sens. Un individu masqué devient un invisible, n’ayant plus de compte à rendre à personne puisque nul ne saurait le reconnaitre. Comme le dit ironiquement un personnage de Kôbô Abé, dans La face d’un autre, il « n’y aurait plus ni voleur, ni agent de police, ni agresseur, ni victime. Ni ma femme, ni celle de mon voisin ! ». Poursuivant sa rêverie, il imagine la commercialisation d’une multitude de masques, et il en déduit la subversion qui saisirait le lien social. Doté de ces masques, nul ne saurait plus qui est qui, avec même la possibilité de changer de masques plusieurs fois par jour. La notion d’individu se dissout au profit de celle de personne (persona : masque, en latin). Impossible de concevoir un monde sans visage sans l’appréhender comme un univers de chaos. Pour fonder le lien social il faut la singularité des traits pour que chacun puisse répondre de ses traits et être reconnu de son entourage. Un monde sans visage, dilué dans la multiplicité des masques, serait un monde sans coupable, mais aussi sans individus. La valeur à la fois sociale et individuelle qui distingue le visage du reste du corps se traduit dans les jeux de l'amour par l'attention dont il est l'objet de la part des amants. Il y a dans le visage de la personne aimée un appel, un mystère, et le mouvement d’un désir toujours renouvelé. Les amants peuvent ainsi se perdre dans une longue contemplation. Mais les significations qui les traversent sont inépuisables. Les yeux demeurent toujours au seuil de la révélation et se nourrissent de cette attente. Le visage parait toujours le lieu où la vérité est en imminence de dévoilement. Et sans doute, la fin d'une relation amoureuse pour un couple témoigne-t-elle aussi de la banalité mutuelle qui a saisi les visages, l'impossibilité dès lors de quêter le mystère sur les traits de l'autre. Le sacré s’est peu à peu profané au fil de la vie quotidienne, il a perdu son aura. Mais tant que l'intensité du sentiment demeure, le visage se livre à la manière d'une clé pour entrer dans la jouissance de ce qu'il est. Là où l'amour élève symboliquement le visage, la haine de l'autre s'attache à le rabaisser, à le piétiner. Parce qu’il est le lieu par excellence du sacré dans le rapport de l'homme à soi et à l'autre, il est aussi l'objet de tentatives pour le profaner, le souiller, le détruire quand il s'agit d'éliminer l'individu, de lui refuser sa singularité. La négation de l'homme passe de manière exemplaire par le refus de lui accorder la dignité d'un visage. Des expressions courantes le révèlent : perdre la face, faire mauvaise figure, ne plus avoir figure humaine, se faire casser la figure ou la gueule, etc. L'insulte animalise le visage ou le traîne dans la boue : face de rat, gueule, trogne, tronche, etc. De même le propos du raciste mondain évoquant avec complaisance le « faciès » de l'étranger, et ne pensant pas un seul instant que d’autres pourraient parler de lui dans les mêmes termes. Seul l’autre a un faciès. Ce sont là autant de procédures de destitution de l'homme qui exigent symboliquement qu'on le prive de son visage pour mieux le rabaisser. La volonté de suppression de toute humanité en l'homme appelle la nécessité de briser en lui le signe singulier de son appartenance à l'espèce, en l'occurrence son visage. L’exercice de la cruauté est favorisé par le fait d’animaliser l’autre, de le bestialiser, de le destituer de son humanité, à commencer par le fait de lui dénier un visage afin de mieux le voir comme un « pou », un « insecte », une « vermine », un « rat »... L’autre est d’une espèce radicalement étrangère et ne relève plus de la condition humaine, il n’y a plus aucun obstacle au fait de le torturer ou de le tuer. Le racisme pourrait se définir par cette négation et l'imposition d'une catégorie dépréciative qui définit par défaut tout individu à la manière d'un « type » et indique déjà la conduite à tenir à son égard (« le Juif », « l'Arabe », etc.). La différence infinitésimale qui distingue l’individu singulier et le nomme, est anéantie. Privé de visage pour dire sa différence, il se mue en élément interchangeable d'une catégorie vouée au mépris. On lui prête seulement ce masque déjà funéraire qu'est le portrait-robot, ou la caricature comme ces physiognomonies raciales qui eurent leur période de gloire lors du nazisme, mais continuent insidieusement à répandre leur prêt-à-penser. L’autre n’a plus visage humain. Il a le physique de l’emploi, comme dit l’adage populaire. Son sort en est jeté : ses dehors physiques révèlent son intérieur moral et disent dans le vocabulaire de la chair son tempérament, ses vices cachés, ses perfidies. Toute l’entreprise physiognomonique ou morphopsychologique vise à détruire l’énigme du visage pour en faire une figure, une géométrie, et finalement un aveu (Le Breton 2014). La sagacité prétendue du physiognomoniste lève le masque. Son ambition est de dégager en une formule la vérité psychologique de l'homme ou de la femme assis devant lui. Après l'avilissement du visage, il ne reste qu'à passer aux actes. Le racisme n'est jamais pure opinion, mais anticipation du meurtre qui commence déjà dans le fait de la liquidation symbolique du visage de l’autre.

Elizabeth Wilmot, Countess of Rochester, is best known to most modern readers as the woman John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, abducted and later wed. As Samuel Pepys memorably records in his diary entry for 28 May 1665:Thence to my Lady Sandwich’s, where, to my shame, I had not been a great while before. Here, upon my telling her a story of my Lord Rochester’s running away on Friday night last with Mrs Mallet, the great beauty and fortune of the North, who had supped at Whitehall with Mrs Stewart, and was going home to her lodgings with her grandfather, my Lord Haly, by coach; and was at Charing Cross seized on by both horse and footmen, and forcibly taken from him, and put into a coach with six horses, and two women provided to receive her, and carried away. Upon immediate pursuit, my Lord of Rochester (for whom the King had spoke to the lady often, but with no success) was taken at Uxbridge; but the lady is not yet heard of, and the King mighty angry and the Lord sent to the Tower. (http://www.pepysdiary.com/)Here Pepys provides an anecdote that offers what Helen Deutsch has described in another context as “the elusive possibility of truth embodied by ‘things in themselves,’ by the things, that is, preserved in anecdotal form” (28). Pepys’s diary entry yields up an “elusive possibility” of embodied truth; his version of Wilmot’s abduction solidifies what he perceives to be the most notable features of her identity: her beauty, her wealth, and her sexual trajectory.Pepys’s conclusion that “the lady is not yet heard of” complicates this idea of anecdotal preservation, for he neatly ties up his story of Wilmot’s body by erasing her from it: she is removed, voiceless and disembodied, from even this anecdote of her own abduction. Pepys’s double maneuver demonstrates the complex set of interactions surrounding the preservation of early modern women’s sexual and textual selves. Written into Pepys’s diary and writing in conversation with her husband, Wilmot has generally been treated as a subordinate historical and literary figure—a character rather than an agent or an author. The richness of Wilmot’s own writing has been largely ignored; her manuscript poetry has been treated as an artefact and a source of autobiographical material, whereas Rochester’s poetry—itself teeming with autobiographical details, references to material culture, and ephemera—is recognised and esteemed as literary. Rochester’s work provides a tremendous resource, a window through which we can read and re-read his wife’s work in ways that enlighten and open up readings rather than closing them down, and her works similarly complicate his writings.By looking at Wilmot as a case study, I would like to draw attention to some of the continued dilemmas that scholars face when we attempt to recover early modern women’s writing. With this study, I will focus on distinct features of Wilmot’s sexual and textual identity. I will consider assumptions about female docility; the politics and poetics of erotic espionage; and Wilmot’s construction of fugitive desires in her poetry. Like the writings of many early modern women, Wilmot’s manuscript poetry challenges assumptions about the intersections of gender, sexuality, and authorship. Early Modern Women’s Docile Bodies?As the entry from Pepys’s diary suggests, Wilmot has been constructed as a docile female body—she is rendered “ideal” according to a set of gendered practices by which “inferior status has been inscribed” on her body (Bartky 139). Contrasting Pepys’s references to Wilmot’s beauty and marriageability with Wilmot’s own vivid descriptions of sexual desire highlights Wilmot’s tactical awareness and deployment of her inscribed form. In one of her manuscript poems, she writes:Nothing ades to Loves fond fireMore than scorn and cold disdainI to cherish your desirekindness used but twas in vainyou insulted on your SlaveTo be mine you soon refusedHope hope not then the power to haveWhich ingloriously you used. (230)This poem yields up a wealth of autobiographical information and provides glimpses into Wilmot’s psychology. Rochester spent much of his married life having affairs with women and men, and Wilmot represents herself as embodying her devotion to her husband even as he rejects her. In a recent blog entry about Wilmot’s poetry, Ellen Moody suggests that Wilmot “must maintain her invulnerable guard or will be hurt; the mores damn her whatever she does.” Interpretations of Wilmot’s verse typically overlay such sentiments on her words: she is damned by social mores, forced to configure her body and desire according to rigorous social codes that expect women to be pure and inviolable yet also accessible to their lovers and “invulnerable” to the pain produced by infidelity. Such interpretations, however, deny Wilmot the textual and sexual agency accorded to Rochester, begging the question of whether or not we have moved beyond reading women’s writing as essential, natural, and embodied. Thus while these lines might in fact yield up insights into Wilmot’s psychosocial and sexual identities, we continue to marginalise her writing and by extension her author-self if we insist on taking her words at face value. Compare, for example, Wilmot’s verse to the following song by her contemporary Aphra Behn:Love in Fantastique Triumph satt,Whilst Bleeding Hearts a round him flow’d,For whom Fresh paines he did Create,And strange Tyranick power he show’d;From thy Bright Eyes he took his fire,Which round about, in sports he hurl’d;But ’twas from mine, he took desire,Enough to undo the Amorous World. (53) This poem, which first appeared in Behn’s tragedy Abdelazer (1677) and was later printed in Poems upon Several Occasions (1684), was one of Behn’s most popular lyric verses. In the 1920s and 1930s Ernest Bernbaum, Montague Summers, Edmund Gosse, and others mined Behn’s works for autobiographical details and suggested that such historical details were all that her works offered—a trend that continued, disturbingly, into the later half of the twentieth century. Since the 1980s, Paula R. Backscheider, Ros Ballaster, Catherine Gallagher, Robert Markley, Paul Salzman, Jane Spencer, and Janet Todd have shown that Behn’s works are not simple autobiographical documents; they are the carefully crafted productions of a literary professional. Even though Behn’s song evokes a masochistic relationship between lover and beloved much like Wilmot’s song, critics treat “Love Arm’d” as a literary work rather than a literal transcription of female desire. Of course there are material differences between Wilmot’s song and Behn’s “Love Arm’d,” the most notable of which involves Behn’s self-conscious professionalism and her poem’s entrenchment in the structures of performance and print culture. But as scholars including Kathryn King and Margaret J. M. Ezell have begun to suggest, print publication was not the only way for writers to produce and circulate literary texts. King has demonstrated the ways in which female authors of manuscripts were producing social texts (563), and Ezell has shown that “collapsing ‘public’ into ‘publication’” leads modern readers to “overlook the importance of the social function of literature for women as well as men” (39). Wilmot’s poems did not go through the same material, ideological, and commercial processes as Behn’s poems did, but they participated in a social and cultural network of exchange that operated according to its own rules and that, significantly, was the same network that Rochester himself used for the circulation of his verses. Wilmot’s writings constitute about half of the manuscript Portland PwV 31, held by Hallward Library, University of Nottingham—a manuscript catalogued in the Perdita Project but lacking a description and biographical note. Teresa D. Kemp has discussed the impact of the Perdita Project on the study of early modern women’s writing in Feminist Teacher, and Jill Seal Millman and Elizabeth Clarke (both of whom are involved with the project) have also written articles about the usability of the database. Like many of the women writers catalogued by the Perdita Project, Wilmot lacks her own entry in the Dictionary of National Biography and is instead relegated to the periphery in Rochester’s entry.The nineteen-page folio includes poems by both Rochester and Wilmot. The first eight poems are autograph manuscript poems by Rochester, and a scene from a manuscript play ‘Scaene 1st, Mr. Daynty’s chamber’ is also included. The remaining poems, excluding one without attribution, are by Wilmot and are identified on the finding aid as follows:Autograph MS poem, entitled ‘Song’, by Elizabeth WilmotAutograph MS poem, entitled ‘Song’, by Elizabeth WilmotAutograph MS poem, entitled ‘Song’, by Elizabeth WilmotMS poem, untitled, not ascribed Autograph MS poem, entitled ‘Song’, by Elizabeth WilmotAutograph MS poem, untitled, by Elizabeth WilmotAutograph MS poem, untitled, by Elizabeth WilmotAutograph MS poem, untitled, by Elizabeth Wilmot Autograph MS poem, untitled, by Elizabeth WilmotTwo of the songs (including the lyric quoted above) have been published in Kissing the Rod with the disclaimer that marks of revision reveal that “Lady Rochester was not serving as an amanuensis for her husband” yet the editors maintain that “some sort of literary collaboration cannot be ruled out” (230), implying that Rochester helped his wife write her poetry. Establishing a non-hierarchical strategy for reading women’s collaborative manuscript writing here seems necessary. Unlike Behn, who produced works in manuscript and in print and whose maximization of the slippages between these modes has recently been analyzed by Anne Russell, Wilmot and Rochester both wrote primarily in manuscript. Yet only Rochester’s writings have been accorded literary status by historians of the book and of manuscript theory such as Harold Love and Arthur Marotti. Even though John Wilders notes that Rochester’s earliest poems were dialogues written with his wife, the literariness of her contributions is often undercut. Wilders offers a helpful suggestion that the dialogues set up by these poems helps “hint … at further complexities in the other” (51), but the complexities are identified as sexual rather than textual. Further, the poems are treated as responses to Rochester rather than conversations with him. Readers like Moody, moreover, draw reflections of marital psychology from Wilmot’s poems instead of considering their polysemic qualities and other literary traits. Instead of approaching the lines quoted above from Wilmot’s song as indications of her erotic and conjugal desire for her husband, we can consider her confident deployment of metaphysical conceits, her careful rhymes, and her visceral imagery. Furthermore, we can locate ways in which Wilmot and Rochester use the device of the answer poem to build a complex dialogue rather than a hierarchical relationship in which one voice dominates the other. The poems comprising Portland PwV 31 are written in two hands and two voices; they complement one another, but neither contains or controls the other. Despite the fact that David Farley-Hills dismissively calls this an “‘answer’ to this poem written in Lady Rochester’s handwriting” (29), the verses coexist in playful exchange textually as well as sexually. Erotic Exchange, Erotic EspionageBut does a reorientation of literary criticism away from Wilmot’s body and towards her body of verse necessarily entail a loss of her sexual and artefactual identity? Along with the account from Pepys’s diary mentioned at the outset of this study, letters from Rochester to his wife survive that provide a prosaic account of the couple’s married life. For instance, Rochester writes to her: “I love not myself as much as you do” (quoted in Green 159). Letters from Rochester to his wife typically showcase his playfulness, wit, and ribaldry (in one letter, he berates the artist responsible for two miniatures of Wilmot in strokes that are humorous yet also charged with a satire that borders on invective). The couple’s relationship was beleaguered by the doubts, infidelities, and sexual double standards that an autobiographical reading of Wilmot’s songs yields up, therefore it seems as counterproductive for feminist literary theory, criticism, and recovery work to entirely dispense with the autobiographical readings as it seems reductive to entirely rely on them. When approaching works like these manuscript poems, then, I propose using a model of erotic exchange and erotic espionage in tandem with more text-bound modes of literary criticism. To make this maneuver, we might begin by considering Gayle Rubin’s proposition that “If women are the gifts, then it is men who are the exchange partners. And it is the partners, not the presents, upon whom reciprocal exchange confers its quasi-mystical power of social linkage” (398). Wilmot’s poetry relentlessly unsettles the binary set up between partner and present, thereby demanding a more pluralistic identification of sexual and textual economies. Wilmot constructs Rochester as absent (“Thats caused by absence norished by despaire”), which is an explicit inversion of the gendered terms stereotypically deployed in poetry (the absent woman in works by Rochester as well as later satirists like Jonathan Swift and Alexander Pope often catalyzes sexual desire) that also registers Wilmot’s autobiographical contexts. She was, during most of her married life, living with his mother, her own mother, and Rochester’s nieces in his house at Adderbury while he stayed in London. The desire in Wilmot’s poetry is textualised as much as it is sexualised; weaving this doublebraid of desires and designs together ultimately provides the most complete interpretation of the verses. I read the verses as offering a literary form of erotic espionage in which Wilmot serves simultaneously as erotic object and author. That is, she both is and is not the Cloris of her (and Rochester’s) poetry, capable of looking on and authorizing her desired and desiring body. The lyric in which Wilmot writes “He would return the fugitive with Shame” provides the clearest example of the interpretive tactic that I am proposing. The line, from Wilmot’s song “Cloris misfortunes that can be exprest,” refers to the deity of Love in its complete context:Such conquering charmes contribute to my chainAnd ade fresh torments to my lingering painThat could blind Love juge of my faithful flameHe would return the fugitive with ShameFor having bin insenceable to loveThat does by constancy it merritt prove. (232)The speaker of the poem invokes Cupid and calls on “blind Love” to judge “my faithful flame.” The beloved would then be returned “fugitive with Shame” because “blind Love” would have weighed the lover’s passion and the beloved’s insensibility. Interestingly, the gender of the beloved and the lover are not marked in this poem. Only Cupid is marked as male. Although the lover is hypothetically associated with femaleness in the final stanza (“She that calls not reason to her aid / Deserves the punishmentt”), the ascription could as easily be gendering the trait of irrationality as gendering the subject/author of the poem. Desire, complaint, and power circulate in the song in a manner that lacks clear reference; the reader receives glimpses into an erotic world that is far more ornately literary than it is material. That is, reading the poem makes one aware of tropes of power and desire, whereas actual bodies recede into the margins of the text—identifiable because of the author’s handwriting, not a uniquely female perspective on sexuality or (contrary to Moody’s interpretation) a specifically feminine acquiescence to gender norms. Strategies for Reading a Body of VerseWilmot’s poetry participates in what might be described as two distinct poetic and political modes. On one hand, her writing reproduces textual expectations about Restoration answer poems, songs and lyrics, and romantic verses. She crafts poetry that corresponds to the same textual conventions that men like Rochester, John Dryden, Abraham Cowley, and William Cavendish utilised when they wrote in manuscript. For Wilmot, as for her male contemporaries, such manuscript writing would have been socially circulated; at the same time, the manuscript documents had a fluidity that was less common in print texts. Dryden and Behn’s published writings, for instance, often had a more literary context (“Love Arm’d” refers to Abdelazer, not to Behn’s sexual identity), whereas manuscript writing often referred to coteries of readers and writers, friends and lovers.As part of the volatile world of manuscript writing, Wilmot’s poetry also highlights her embodied erotic relationships. But over-reading—or only reading—the poetry as depicting a conjugal erotics limits our ability to recover Wilmot as an author and an agent. Feminist recovery work has opened many new tactics for incorporating women’s writing into existing literary canons; it has also helped us imagine ways of including female domestic work, sexuality, and other embodied forms into our understanding of early modern culture. By drawing together literary recovery work with a more material interest in recuperating women’s sexual bodies, we should begin to recuperate women like Wilmot not simply as authors or bodies but as both. The oscillations between the sexual and textual body in Wilmot’s poetry, and in our assessments of her life and writings, should help us approach her works (like the works of Rochester) as possessing a three-dimensionality that they have long been denied. ReferencesBartky, Sandra Lee. “Foucault, Femininity, and the Modernization of Patriarchal Power.” In Writing on the Body: Female Embodiment and Feminist Theory. Ed. Katie Conboy, Nadia Medina, and Sarah Stanbury. New York: Columbia University Press, 1997. 129-54.Behn, Aphra. “Song. Love Arm’d.” The Works of Aphra Behn. Volume 1: Poetry. Ed. Janet Todd. London: William Pickering, 1992. 53.Clarke, Elizabeth. “Introducing Hester Pulter and the Perdita Project.” Literature Compass 2.1 (2005). ‹http://www.blackwell-compass.com/subject/literature/article_view?article_id=lico_articles_bsl159›. Deutsch, Helen. Loving Doctor Johnson. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2005.Diamond, Irene, Ed. Feminism and Foucault: Reflections on Resistance. Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1988.Ezell, Margaret J. M. Social Authorship and the Advent of Print. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1999.Farley-Hill, David. Rochester’s Poetry. Totowa: Rowman and Littlefield, 1978. Greene, Graham. Lord Rochester’s Monkey. New York: Penguin, 1974. Greer, Germaine, Susan Hastings, Jeslyn Medoff, and Melinda Sansone, Ed. Kissing the Rod: An Anthology of Seventeenth-Century Women’s Verse. New York: Noonday Press, 1988. Kemp, Theresa D. “Early Women Writers.” Feminist Teacher 18.3 (2008): 234-39.King, Kathryn. “Jane Barker, Poetical Recreations, and the Sociable Text.” ELH 61 (1994): 551-70.Love, Harold, and Arthur F. Marotti. "Manuscript Transmission and Circulation." The Cambridge History of Early Modern English Literature. Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press, 2002. 55-80. Love, Harold. "Systemizing Sigla." English Manuscript Studies 1100-1700. 11 (2002): 217-230. Marotti, Arthur F. "Shakespeare's Sonnets and the Manuscript Circulation of Texts in Early Modern England." A Companion to Shakespeare's Sonnets. Oxford: Blackwell, 2007. 185-203.McNay, Lois. Foucault And Feminism: Power, Gender, and the Self. Boston: Northeastern, 1992.Moody, Ellen. “Elizabeth Wilmot (neé Mallet), Countess of Rochester, Another Woman Poet.” Blog entry 16 March 2006. 11 Nov. 2008 ‹http://server4.moody.cx/index.php?id=400›. Pepys, Samuel. The Diary of Samuel Pepys. 23 Aug. 2008 ‹http://www.pepysdiary.com/archive/1665/05/28/index.php›. Rubin, Gayle. “The Traffic in Women: Notes on the ‘Political Economy’ of Sex.” Feminist Literary Theory and Criticism: A Norton Reader, ed. Sandra M. Gilbert and Susan Gubar, 392-413. New York: Norton, 2007.Russell, Anne. “Aphra Behn, Textual Communities, and Pastoral Sobriquets.” English Language Notes 40.4 (June 2003): 41-50.———. “'Public' and 'Private' in Aphra Behn's Miscellanies: Women Writers, Print, and Manuscript.” Write or Be Written: Early Modern Women Poets and Cultural Constraints. Ed. Barbara Smith and Ursula Appelt. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2001. 29-48. Sawicki, Jana. Disciplining Foucault: Feminism, Power and the Body. New York: Routledge, 1991.Seal, Jill. "The Perdita Project—A Winter's Report." Early Modern Literary Studies 6.3 (January, 2001): 10.1-14. ‹http://purl.oclc.org/emls/06-3/perdita.htm›.Wilders, John. “Rochester and the Metaphysicals.” In Spirit of Wit: Reconsiderations of Rochester. Ed. Jeremy Treglown. Hamden: Archon, 1982. 42-57.Wilmot, Elizabeth, Countess of Rochester. “Song” (“Nothing Ades to Love's Fond Fire”) and “Song” (“Cloris Misfortunes That Can Be Exprest”) in Kissing the Rod. 230-32.

Invested capital demands growth. Growth is possible through the expansion of markets or through finding new products to sell, that is, by creating new markets. Thus, we have seen, over the last one hundred years, the commodification of more and more aspects of human life. However, what superficially looks like an ever increasing array of different products turns out to be, in essence, the commodification of just one human need, that is, the need for identity. Awareness of mind engenders the 'I/me' split. The 'I' is a knower, the 'me' is the known. The stuff that the 'me' is made of is discursive in nature. Stories are therefore the industrial engines of the identity economy and they are deployed all around us in print, in media, at work. As well they are encoded into material artifacts or into the social practices which are enacted via our access to identity services (be it travel, media, or latte). Most of us now work in the identity economy and indeed work out our identity in the process of helping others commodify theirs. Consider the following advertisement for Compaq computers. "A whole new Compaq what's in it for me and me and me and me and me and me... a lot. We're here to help you get the most out of computing, whether you use one PC or run a vast global enterprise network". Current deflation aside, the Internet may turn out to be the ultimate domain for commodification of human identity. Not only is any desire available to be vicariously satisfied at any time of the day (thus extending the market in time) but the domain of desire is global in its reach, thus rendering possible the vicarious experience of omniscience also. As the recent add for the Iridium network proclaimed, "Welcome to your new office, it measures 510,228,030 square kilometers" omniscience in a packet. The contributors to this issue of M/C dissect the work of identity in various ways. Common identities, shared by people within the same subcultures or national societies as such, are strengthened and maintained to a significant degree through shared, collective memories, as Patricia Leavy notes in her article which opens this issue and such "mass remembering" is "unconscious work necessary for the maintenance of social memory", she writes. Such collective memories are perpetuated largely through the media, and expanding on this thought Lelia Green explores the argument that consumption is indeed important work in a capitalist society. In our feature article for this issue, "The Work of Consumption Why Aren't We Paid?", she describes identity construction as "a major consumer project using raw materials provided by the mass media", but one which remains considered a voluntary activity. Marxian approaches to 'work' practically appear by themselves in dealing with such ideas. Warwick Mules aims to "open out Marx a little" by investigating the changed nature of the worker in early twenty-first century capitalism. The increasing interest in shares and stocks is only one sign of the fact that the surplus value produced during work is now often incorporated into the labour force itself; workers invest in their own lives and in the process become 'dividualised', motivated by a desire to become their future selves. Work time and free time blur in this pursuit. Frederick Wasser's article examines this point further by problematising the division between work and free leisure, especially in the light of convergent new media technologies which are used for both in equal measure. In the process, does the quality of our leisure time suffer as the opportunity, perhaps the reminder, to do some more work remains ever-present? And, in this dividualised, self-motivated workforce, what about those who value leisure over work? Andrew Butler uses the films of Kevin Smith to examine the effects of being a 'slacker' on one's own masculine identity. Characters in Clerks, Mallrats and Chasing Amy appear to find it hard to escape from capitalist ideology, from the societal imperative to work: "the man without work is cast adrift, still in search of an identity". This is hardly a surprise, given the history of work ethics described in Sharon Beder's contribution to this issue beyond the protestant emphasis on work as a religious calling there rose a secular work ethic encouraging "ambition, hard work, self-reliance, and self-discipline" in the nineteenth century which Beder traces through a study of selected self-help texts and children's books of the time. And such work ethics continue to exist today, albeit in modified forms which link to the latest theories in business communication and cognitive psychology. Beyond the hokey new-age exercises which have been thrust upon workforces in the last decades, staff motivation does constitute a crucial factor in commercial success and effectiveness, and so, as Caroline Hatcher writes in her article, "emotion, and passion, as heightened emotion, have come to play a newly understood role in our work lives". Passions of a different kind, however, are evident in Jennifer Ellis-Newman's study which closes this issue. Investigating gender disparities in Australian universities, she found "subtle processes that continue to operate in some higher education institutions to prevent women from reaching their full potential" as academics, because of their perceived identity as women first, and academics second. This article shows that older problems do not vanish magically as we turn our attention towards new ones. How can these women help others their students establish and commodify their identity if their own identity as workers is thus continually undermined? In addition to this problem, the articles in this issue of M/C also question the nature of worker identity itself, and indeed the very nature of work and leisure at the beginning of this new century. Is there any bit of identity not engaged via the consumption of work and the work of consumption? As Gary Cross has extensively documented, the march of the work-and-spend ethic has been victorious over other community-oriented uses of leisure time for the last two centuries. Any account of commodification via the new media that ignores this tendency should take into account Cross's arguments that clearly document that "the task of creating conditions for personal and social expressions relatively unmediated by goods is hard work even if all insist that it should also be play" (112). References Cross, Gary. Time and Money: The Making of the Consumer Culture. New York: Routledge, 1993. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Bruns, Axel and Hearn, Greg. "Editorial" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 4.5 (2001). [your date of access] < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0111/editorial1.xml >. Chicago Style Bruns, Axel and Hearn, Greg, "Editorial" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 4, no. 5 (2001), < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0111/editorial1.xml > ([your date of access]). APA Style Bruns, Axel and Hearn, Greg. (2001) Editorial. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 4(5). < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0111/editorial1.xml > ([your date of access]).

Investigative journalist Bill Moyers interviews Jon Stewart of The Daily Show: MOYERS: I do not know whether you are practicing an old form of parody and satire…or a new form of journalism. STEWART: Well then that either speaks to the sad state of comedy or the sad state of news. I can’t figure out which one. I think, honestly, we’re practicing a new form of desperation…. July 2003 (Bill Moyers Interview of Jon Stewart, on Public Broadcasting Service) Transmission, while always fraught and ever-changing, is particularly so at a moment when coincidentally the exponential increase in access to new media communication is paired with the propagandized and state-dominated moment of war, in this case the U.S. preemptive invasion of Iraq in 2003. U.S. fighter planes drop paper propaganda along with bombs. Leaked into mainstream media by virtue of new media technologies, the violations of Abu-Ghraib represent the challenge of conducting war in a digital era. Transmissions are highly controlled and yet the proliferation of access poses a new challenge – explicitly named by Rumsfeld in December 2005 on the Jim Lehrer news hour: DONALD RUMSFELD: No, I think what is happening – and this is the first war that has ever been conducted in the 21st century when you had talk radio, the Internet, e-mails, bloggers, 24-hour news, digital cameras, video cameras, instant access to everything, and we haven’t accommodated to that yet. … And what’s happening is the transmission belt that receives it spreads all these things. … Rumsfeld’s comments about the convergence of new media with a time of war highlights what those of us studying cultural communication see as a crucial site of study: the access and use of new media to transmit dissenting political commentary is arguably a sign of new counter-public spaces that coincide with increased mainstream media control and erosion of civil liberties surrounding free speech. In this particular instance, the strategic use of media by U.S. political administration to sell a morally questionable war to the public through deceptions and propaganda raises new questions about the transmission and phenomenon of truth claims in a digital age. In this essay I examine three sites through which satire is used to express political commentary in the convergent moment of repression combines with increased affordances. The examples I offer have been chosen because they illustrate what I recognize as a cultural shift, an emotional sea change even for staunch postmodernists: replacing Jameson’s characterization of the “waning of affect,” there has emerged renewed desire for truthfulness and accountability. What’s unique is that this insistence on the possibility of truthfulness is held in simultaneous contradiction with cynical distrust. The result is a paradoxical affective sentiment shared by many: the simultaneous belief that all truths are rhetorically constructed along with the shared certainty that we have been lied to, that this is wrong, and that there is a truthfulness that should be delivered. This demand is directed at the corrupted synergy created between media and politicians. The arguments used to counter the dominant content (and form) of transmission are made using new digital media. The sea-change in transmission is its multidirectionality, its frequency, and its own rapidly-changing modes of transmission. In short, communication and the political role of media has become exponentially complex in the simultaneous demand for truthfulness alongside the simultaneous awareness that all truth is constructed. Visual satire offers an ideal form to transmit the post-9/11 contradictions because irony turns on the unsaid; it uses the dominant forms of logic to express what is otherwise silenced as dissenting didacticism; it expresses horrors in forms that are palatable; it creates a sense of shared meaning and community by using the unsaid to create a recognition of the dominant culture as misrepresentation. While irony has been used for centuries as a political tool, what is unique about the digitally produced and disseminated cultures created through visual ironies after 9/11 is that these expressions explicitly reference again and again a desire for accountability. Much could be said about the history of political satire, and if space permitted I would develop here my discussion of affect and parody, best excavated beginning with a history of political satire moving up to current “fair use legislation” which legally protects those who perform parody, one subset of satire. A more general comment on the relation of humor to politics helps set a context for the relationship of satire to contemporary political transmissions I address. Humor … helps one only to bear somewhat better the unalterable; sometimes it reminds both the mighty and the weak that they are not to be taken seriously. …One’s understanding of political jokes obviously depends on one’s understanding of politics. At one level, politics is always a struggle for power. Along with persuasion and lies, advice and flattery, tokens of esteem and bribery, banishment and violence, obedience and treachery, the joke belongs to the rich treasury of the instruments of politics. We often hear that the political joke is an offensive weapon with which an aggressive, politically engaged person makes the arrangements or precautions of an opponent seem ridiculous. But even when political jokes serve defensive purposes, they are nonetheless weapons (Speier and Jackall 1998, 1352). The productions I am studying I define as digital dissent: the use of new media to engage in tactical media, culture jamming, or online civic participation that interrupts mainstream media narratives. The sites I am studying include multimedia memes, blogs, and mirrored streaming of cable-channel Comedy Central’s highly popular news satire. These three examples illustrate a key tension embedded in the activity of transmission: in their form (satirical) and content (U.S. mainstream media and U.S. politicians and mistakes) they critique prevailing (dominant) transmissions of mainstream media, and perform this transmission using mainstream media as the transmitter. The use of the existing forms to critique those same forms helpfully defines “tactical media,” so that, ironically, the transmission of mainstream news is satirized through content and form while in turn being transmitted via corporate-owned news show. The following illustrations of digital dissent employ irony and satire to transmit the contradictory emotional sensibilities: on the one hand, the awareness that all truth claims are constructed and on the other, a longing for truthful accountability from politicians and media. The Daily Show with Jon Stewart The Daily Show (TDS) with Jon Stewart is a highly-popular news satire. “The most trusted name in fake news” is transmitted four nights a week in the U.S. and Canada on cable television and often on another local network channel. TDS format uses “real” news clips from mainstream media – generally about Washington D.C. politics – and offers satirical and ironic commentary about the media representations as well as about the actions and speech of the politicians represented. Aired in Europe through CNN as well througha half-hour once weekly version, TDS is also streamed online both through Comedy Central’s official site as well as on mirrored independent streaming. The Daily Show has been airing for 6 years, has 1.7 million television viewers, a wide audience who view TDS online, and a larger segment of age 18-31 viewers than any other U.S. nightly news show (Friend 28). Jon Stewart has become an icon of a cross-partisan North American critique of George W. Bush in particular (though Stewart claims himself as non-partisan). Particularly since his appearance on CNN news debate show Crossfire and now poised to host the Academy Awards (two days until Oscar broadcast as I write), Jon Stewart emblematizes a faith in democracy, and demand for media accountability to standards of civic discourse seen as central to democracy. (In a March 2, 2006 blog-letter to Jon Stewart, Ariana Huffington warns him against losing his current political legitimacy by blowing it at the Oscars: “Interjecting too much political commentary – no matter how trenchant or hilarious – is like interrupting the eulogy at a funeral to make a political point … . At the same time, there is no denying the fact, Jon, that you are going to have the rapt attention of some 40 million Americans. Or that political satire – done right – can alter people’s perceptions (there’s a reason emperors have always banned court jesters in times of crisis). Or that a heaping dose of your perception-altering mockery would do the American body politic a load of good.”) “Stop hurting America” Stewart pleads with two mainstream news show hosts on the now-infamous Crossfire appearance, (an 11 minute clip easily found online or through ifilm.com). Stewart’s public shaming of mainstream media as partisan hackery theatre, “helping corporations and leaving all of us alone to mow our lawns,” became the top-cited media event in the blogosphere in 2004. The satirical form of The Daily Show illustrates how the unsaid functions as truth. Within the range of roles classically defined within the history of humor and satire, Jon Stewart represents the court jester (Jones). First, the unsaid often occurs literally through Stewart’s responses to material: the camera often shows simply his facial expression and speechlessness, which “says it all.” The unsaid also occurs visually through the ironic adoption of the familiar visuals of a news show: for example, situating the anchor person (Stewart) behind his obscenely large news desk. Part of this unsaid is an implicit questioning of the performed legitimacy of a news report. For viewers, The Daily Show displaces a dominant and enforced hegemonic cultural pastime: individuals in isolated living rooms tuned in to (and alienated by) the 11 o’clock dose of media spin about politicians’ and military versions of reality have been replaced by a new virtual solidarity of 1.2 million living rooms who share a recognition of deception. Ironically, as Bill Moyers expresses to Jon Stewart, “but when I report the news on this broadcast, people say I’m making it up. When you make it up, they say you’re telling the truth” (“Transcript”). The unsaid also functions by using actual existing logics, discourses, and even various familiar reiterated truth claims (the location of WMD; claims made by Hans Blix, etc.) and shifting the locutionary context of these slightly in order to create irony – putting “real” words into displaced contexts in a way that reveals the constructed-ness of the “real” and thereby creates an unsaid, shared commentary about the experience of feeling deceived by the media and by the Pentagon. Through its use of both “real” news footage combined with ironic “false” commentary, The Daily Show allows viewers to occupy the simultaneous space of cynicism and desire for truth: pleasure and satisfaction followed by a moment of panic or horror. Bush in 30 Seconds The Bushin30seconds campaign was begun by the organization MoveOn, who solicited entries from the public and received over 500 which were streamed as QuickTime videos on their Website. The guidelines were to use the form of a campaign ad, and the popularly-selected winner would be aired on major network television during the 2004 Superbowl. The majority of the Bushin30Seconds ads include content that directly addresses Bush’s deception and make pleas for truth, many explicitly addressing the demand for truth, the immorality of lies, and the problems that political deception pose for democracy (along with a research team, I am currently working on a three year project analyzing all of these in terms of their content, rhetorical form, and discursive strategies and will be surveying and interviewing the producers of the Bushin30Seconds. Our other two sites of study include political blogs about the U.S. invasion of Iraq, and online networks sparked by The Daily Show). The demand for truthfulness is well exemplified in the ad called “Polygraph” (see also #27 A Big Puzzle). This ad invokes a simulated polygraph – the polygraph being a classic instrument of rational positivism and surveillance – which measures for the viewer the “truth” quotient of Bush’s own “real” words. Of course, the polygraph is not actually connected to Bush’s body, and hence offers a visual symbolic “stand in” for the viewer’s own internal or collectively shared sensibility or truth meter. Illustrating my central argument about the expressed desire for truthfulness, the ad concludes with the phrase “Americans are dying for the truth.” Having examined 150 ads, it is remarkable how many of these – albeit via different cultural forms ranging from hip hop to animation to drama to pseudo-advertisement for a toy action figure – make a plea for accountability, not only on behalf of one’s own desire but often out of altruistic concern for others. The Yes Men I offer one final example to illustrate transmissions that disrupt dominant discourses. The Yes Men began their work when they created a website which “mirrored” the World Trade Organization site. Assumed to represent the WTO, they were subsequently offered invitations to give keynotes at various international conferences and press meetings of CEOs and business people. (Their work is documented in an hour-long film titled The Yes Men available at many video outlets and through their web site.) The main yes man, Bichlbaum, arrives to these large international meetings with careful attire and speech, and offers a straight-faced keynote with subversive content. For example, at a textile conference he suggests that slavery had been a very profitable form of labor and might be reintroduced as alternative to unionized labor. At another conference, he announced that the WTO had decided to disband because it has realized it is only causing harm to international trade and economy. In December 2004, the Yes Men struck again when they were invited by the BBC as representatives of DOW chemical on the 20th anniversary of the Union Carbide Bhopal accident in India. Those who watched the BBC news and Channel 4 and the hundreds of thousands who viewed these clips afterwards are made aware of the anniversary of the worst chemical accident in history; are apprised of the ongoing effects on the people of Bhopal; and hear an unusual primetime soundbyte lambasting the utter absence of social responsibility of corporations such as Dow Chemical. The Yes Men illustrate what some might call tactical media, some might call media terrorism, and what some aspire to in their own activism. “They compare their work to that of a “funhouse mirror” – exaggerating hideous features. ‘We do that kind of exaggeration operation, but with ideas. We agree with people – turning up the volume on their ideas as we talk, until they can see their ideas distorted in our funhouse mirror. Or that’s what we try to do anyhow. As it turns out, the image always seems to look normal to them,’ Bichlbaum said” (Marchlewski). Another article describes their goal as follows: When newspapers and television stations out their acts, it’s not just the Yes Men who get attention, but also the issues they address … . The impersonations, which the two call identity corrections, are intended to show, in a colorful and humorous way, what they say are errors of corporate and government ways. (Marchlewski 2005) In conclusion, these three examples illustrate the new media terrain of access and distribution which enables transmissions that arguably construct significant new public spheres constructed around a desire for truthfulness and accountability. While some may prefer “civil society,” I find the concept of a public useful because its connotations imply less regimentation. If the public sphere is in part constructed through the reflexive circulation of discourse, the imaginary relation with strangers, and with affect as a social glue (my addition to Michael Warner’s six features of a public), we have described some of the ways in which counterpublics are produced (Warner 2002; Boler, forthcoming). If address (the circulation and reception of a cultural production under consideration) in part constructs a public, how does one imagine the interactivity between the listener/bystander/participant and the broadcast or image? To what extent do the kinds of transmission I have discussed here invite new kinds of multi-directional interactivity, and to what extent do they replicate problematic forms of broadcast? Which kind of subject is assumed or produced by different “mediated” publics? What is the relationship of discourse and propaganda to action and materiality? These are some of the eternally difficult questions raised when one analyzes ideology and culture in relation to social change. It is indeed very difficult to trace what action follows from any particular discursive construction of publics. One can think of the endings of the 150 Finalists in the Bush in30 Seconds campaign, each with an explicit or implicit imperative: “think!” or “act!” What subject is hailed and invoked, and what relationship might exist between the invocation or imagining of that listener and that listener’s actual reception and translation of any transmission? The construction of a public through address is a key feature of the politics of representation and visions of social change through cultural production. Each of the three sites of productions I have analyzed illustrate a renewed call for faith in media as an institution which owes a civic responsibility to democracy. The iterations of calls for truthful accounts from media and politicians stand in tension with the simultaneous recognition of the complex social construction of any and all truth claims. The uncertainty about whether such transmissions constitute “an old form of parody and satire…or a new form of journalism” reflects the ongoing paradox of what Jon Stewart describes as a “new form of desperation.” For those who live in Western democracies, I suggest that the study of political transmission is best understood within this moment of convergence and paradox when we are haunted by paradoxical desires for truths. References “American Daily.” 7 Nov. 2003 http://www.americandaily.com/article/5951>. Boler, Megan. “Mediated Publics and the Crises of Democracy.” Philosophical Studies in Education 37 (2006, forthcoming), eds. Justen Infinito and Cris Mayo. Colebrook, Claire. Irony. London: Routledge, 2004. Jameson, Frederic. “Postmodernism and Consumer Society.” The Anti-Aesthetic. Ed. H. Foster. Seattle: Bay Press, 1983. Jones, Jeffrey. Entertaining Politics: New Political Television and Civic Culture. New York: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, 2004. Fletcher, M.D. Contemporary Political Satire. New York: University Press of America, 1987. Friend, Tad. “Is It Funny Yet? Jon Stewart and the Comedy of Crisis”. The New Yorker 77.47 (11 Feb. 2002): 28(7). Huffington, Ariana. “Memo to Jon Stewart: Tread Lightly and Carry a Big Schtick.” 2 March 2006. 4 March 2006 http://www.huffingtonpost.com/arianna-huffington/memo-to-jon-stewart-trea_b_16642.html>. Latour, Bruno. “Why Has Critique Run Out of Steam? From Matters of Fact to Matters of Concern.” Critical Inquiry 30.2 (2004). http://www.uchicago.edu/research/jnl-crit-inq/issues/v30/30n2.Latour.html>. Marchlewski, Kathie. “Hoaxsters Target Dow, Midland Daily News.” 20 May 2005 http://www.theyesmen.org/articles/dowagmmidlanddailynews.html>. Speier, Hans, & Robert Jackall. “Wit and Politics: An Essay on Laughter and Power.” The American Journal of Sociology 103.5 (1998): 1352. “The News Hour with Jim Lehrer.” 8 Dec. 2005. http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/fedagencies/july-dec05/rumsfeld_12-08.html>. “Transcript – Bill Moyers Inverviews Jon Stewart.” 7 Nov. 2003 . Warner, Michael. “Publics and Counterpublics.” Public Culture 14.1 (2002): 49-90. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Boler, Megan. "The Transmission of Political Critique after 9/11: “A New Form of Desperation”?." M/C Journal 9.1 (2006). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0603/11-boler.php>. APA Style Boler, M. (Mar. 2006) "The Transmission of Political Critique after 9/11: “A New Form of Desperation”?," M/C Journal, 9(1). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0603/11-boler.php>.

There's a moment in Chasing Amy (Kevin Smith, US, 1997) when the character Banky Edwards defends his masculinity. He and childhood friend Holden McNeil are artists who work on a comic named Bluntman and Chronic; Holden produces the pencil drawings which Banky inks over and colours in. When confronted with the suggestion that all he does is tracing, Banky first defends himself, and then resorts to physical and verbal violence: "I'LL TRACE A CHALK LINE AROUND YOUR DEAD FUCKING BODY, YOU FUCK ... YOUR MOTHER'S A TRACER!" (Smith 182, 184). Banky is defending the work that he does, the art, from charges that it is an infantile activity, and the violence he engages in is the kind of behaviour associated with masculinity in general and groups of young single men in particular, who "usually [have] a delinquent character, including a penchant for gratuitous violence" (Remy 45). Kevin Smith's first three films, Clerks (1994), Mallrats (1995) and Chasing Amy, formed a loose sequence known as the New Jersey Trilogy, with each focussing on the relationship between a sensitive male and his girlfriend. The relationship is threatened by interaction with the male's crude best friend. The films appear to be romantic comedies, a genre whose usual narrative trajectory is a series of barriers to social union in the form of marriage; however, aside from the studio-backed Mallrats, Smith's films resist the closure typical of his chosen genre. In Clerks and Mallrats the relationship is threatened by a lack of college aspirations, which would lead to a job which could support a nuclear family. Smith is depicting members of the slacker generation(popularised if not coined by Richard Linklater's film) or Generation-X (a term of earlier origin but used by Douglas Coupland's 1991 novel), who would not immediately be associated with work. However, here the lack of a solid job seems to be a cause for angst rather than for a liberation from the tyranny of full-time employment, and on closer inspection the characters' sense of self-worth is tied to their relation to the realm of work. Despite consciousness raising by feminists, it has been argued that the heterosexual male is still expected be "the strong rock, the sexual performer, expected to always cope, not to collapse, expected to be chivalrous, to mend fuses and flat tyres, to make the moves in courtship, expected not to be passive or weepy or frightened, expected to go to war and be killed, or be prepared to kill others" (Horrocks 143). The man without work is cast adrift, still in search of an identity. Banky's work is clearly linked to his sense of self-identity, otherwise he would not feel the need to defend it. The sorts of pressure put upon the male characters by their girlfriends, especially in Clerks and Mallrats, are echoed in anecdotal research conducted by Michael Lee Cohen, a twenty-something who felt that there was more to his generation then simply drop outs from society. He argued that, although the generation which reached its twenties in the mid to late 1980s and early 1990s is popularly thought of as a "dis-generation": "disenchanted, disenfranchised, disgruntled, disconnected, and disatisfied" (Cohen 3) as well as "disillusioned ... and frighteningly distrustful" (295), the truth was more complex. One interviewee described the pressure upon him as "Do well in school, do what the teachers say, get good grades, get out, get a boss, do what your boss says. And after thirty years you'll be a boss, and you'll be able to have kids and a car and a house and a lawn mower, and you'll die with an insurance policy that will provide for your kids' college education or their kids' or whatever" (224). This is equated by Cohen with the American Dream, an ideology which espouses concepts of freedom, both of movement and speech, of social mobility (upwards) and of second chances, but which can be boiled down to the need to consume disguised as the freedom to consume. To become a man is to enter into an order of consumption barely paid for by work. In his interviews, Cohen noted that few associated the American Dream with social justice, freedom or opportunity, but instead cited variations upon the materialistic "husband, wife, and a decimaled number of kids living in a nice house with a picket fence, two cars, and maybe a couple of dogs" (290). There remains the aspiration to the bourgeois nuclear family, despite this generation's experience of broken families. The males (and presumably females) are, to paraphrase Tyler Durden from Fight Club, a generation of males raised by women. Given their absent father, they are much less likely to have seen males acting as primary bread winners - especially when they have brought up by women, many of whom have had to work themselves. Furthermore the boom-bust cycle of economics over the last two decades and the explosion of commodity fetishism fed by ever increasing exposure to advertising produces a generation which aspires to owning material goods, but which often despairs of gaining employment which will pay for that consumerism. The New Jersey Trilogy focusses on members of just such uncertain men, men who are moving from the homosocial or fratriarchal bonds formed during school to the world of work and the pressure for a heterosexual bond. Fathers are absent from Smith's work, aside from Jared Svenning in Mallrats. (There are, on the other hand, mothers mentioned if not seen. An Oedipal analysis of Smith's characters would perhaps prove fruitful.) The sequence features men with no discernible job (Mallrats), dead end jobs (Clerks) and apparent dream jobs (Chasing Amy). Drawing comics for a living would appear to be a dream come true, but it has the unfortunate side effect of transforming leisure into work. Clearly work is not the only theme to be traced in the trilogy: the cases of fratriarchal bonds are illuminating for notions of masculinity, and I hope to publish my work on this elsewhere. Equally, despite the focus on male characters and their desire, the narrative comedicly undercuts masculinity in favour of the female characters, offering the space for a feminist interpretation. Smith is also concerned with depictions of race and homosexuality, and indeed of religious, particularly Catholic, belief. In the brief space available to me here I can only examine the theme of work. In Mallrats T S Quint and Brody Bruce go to the mall, not to shop, but to get away from their problems with respective girlfriends. T S is a student enmired in the ideological pressure of his heterosexual relationship. In contrast Brody has not got the kind of college ambitions that his girlfriend wishes him to have and still lives with his mother. Further, he has no visible means of support and seems unlikely to gain a job which will allow him to partake in the Dream. In addition, he and T S resist the work of consumerism, by window shopping rather than purchasing goods. This leads them into conflict with Shannon Hamilton, the manager of Fashionable Male, who hates mallrats for their lack of shopping agenda (cf. Fiske et al. and Fiske). With the addition of capital, the leisure time displayed in Mallrats could easily be transformed into work time. Whilst resisting being transformed into consumers, Brody and T S's winning back of their girlfriends (effectively as prizes in a tv quiz show) does place them within a bourgeois social order. Brody is rewarded with a career as a television host; given that this is on American television, it is likely that his work is in fact to deliver audiences to commercial breaks to provide the broadcaster's revenue (see Jhally). The central characters in Clerks work at neighbouring stores: Randal at a video rental store and Dante in a convenience store. Like Brody, Dante is expected to harbour college ambitions which would lift him out of this hell (his name is significant, and the script mentions that he has a copy of Inferno on his shelves [Smith 3]). Given their appearances in Clerks: The Animated Series (2000) and the cameos in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back (2001) it seems unlikely that they are going to escape from these jobs - which after all would only ultimately substitute one job for another. The despair Dante feels in his work defines his character. As a retailer, he is stuck in a node between goods and consumer, within sight of the items which are part of the home but perhaps unable to afford them. Furthermore he is held responsible for the goods' inability to grant the pleasure which consumption always promises: whether it be cigarettes or pornography. His friend Randall, despite being surrounded by videos at his place of work, will drive to another video store to rent his own: "I work in a shitty video store. I want to go to a good video store so I can rent a good movie" (97). In this way Randal can at least make some attempt to maintain the distinction between work and leisure, whereas Dante brings his Saturday hockey game to work and plays it on the roof of the convenience store. Finally, in this brief survey, in Chasing Amy Holden and Banky have managed to escape their family homes and have carved out a bachelor life together, having turned their comics hobby into a business. What borders on an art form is implicated in economics, especially when it is revealed that likeness rights need to be paid to the originals of their Bluntman and Chronic characters, Jay and Silent Bob. Especially when compared to the other comic producers - the black and gay Hooper and the lesbian Alyssa Jones - the duo are highly successful, having both a comfortable income and fratriarchal bonds. However two things destroy the friendship: Banky's desire to to sell the rights to an animated cartoon version of their creation and Holden's on-off relationship with Alyssa. In a seemingly calculated rejection of the romantic comedy framework, Smith has Holden fall out with his friend and fail to win the girl. Holden retreats from economic success, killing off the creation, preferring to produce a more personal, self-financed comic, Chasing Amy, an account of his affair with Alyssa. This appears to be a step away from being exploited, as he appropriates the means of production, but just as the bourgeoise family is constructed to support capitalism and requires the individual to work, so his stepping away from capitalism removes him from the bourgeois order of the family. In the New Jersey trilogy Smith depicts representatives of generation-X, who nevertheless relate to different kinds of work. Selling goods is obviously work, but it should also be clear that leisure is work by other means. Even in the moments when characters attempt to escape from the breadwinning that used to be central to masculinity, the results still define their character. Work still defines a male character's sense of identity and his position within the social order. References Cohen, Michael Lee. The Twenty-Something American Dream: A Cross-Country Quest For A Generation. New York: Plume, 1994. Fiske, John. Reading the Popular. London: Routledge, 1989. Fiske, John, Bob Hodge, and Graeme Turner. Myths of Oz: Reading Australian Popular Culture. Sydney: Allen and Unwin, 1987. 95-116. Horrocks, Roger. Masculinity in Crisis. London: Macmillan, 1994. Jhally, Sut. The Codes of Advertising: Fetishism and the Political Economy of Meaning in the Consumer Society. London: Routledge, 1990. Remy, John. "Patriarchy and Fratriarchy as Forms of Androcracy." Men, Masculinities and Social Theory. Jeff Hearn and David Morgan (Eds.), London: Unwin, 1990. 43-54. Smith, Kevin. Clerks & Chasing Amy. London: Faber and Faber, 1997. Links http://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1848/communist-manifesto/ch02.htm http://www.cs.caltech.edu/~adam/LEAD/genx.html http://uk.imdb.com/Title?0109445 http://uk.imdb.com/Title?0113749 http://uk.imdb.com/Title?0118842 Citation reference for this article MLA Style Butler, Andrew M.. "Work and Masculine Identity in Kevin Smith's New Jersey Trilogy " M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 4.5 (2001). [your date of access] < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0111/Butler.xml >. Chicago Style Butler, Andrew M., "Work and Masculine Identity in Kevin Smith's New Jersey Trilogy " M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 4, no. 5 (2001), < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0111/Butler.xml > ([your date of access]). APA Style Butler, Andrew M.. (2001) Work and Masculine Identity in Kevin Smith's New Jersey Trilogy . M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 4(5). < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0111/Butler.xml > ([your date of access]).

This article investigates the prosthesis of identity through the process of branding. It examines cross-cultural manifestations of this phenomena from sixth millennium BCE Syria to twelfth century Japan and Britain. From the Neolithic Era, humanity has sort to extend their identities using pictorial signs that were characteristically simple. Designed to be distinctive and instantly recognisable, the totemic symbols served to signal the origin of the bearer. Subsequently, the development of branding coincided with periods of increased in mobility both in respect to geography and social strata. This includes fifth millennium Mesopotamia, nineteenth century Britain, and America during the 1920s.There are fewer articles of greater influence on contemporary culture than A Theory of Human Motivation written by Abraham Maslow in 1943. Nearly seventy-five years later, his theories about the societal need for “belongingness” and “esteem” remain a mainstay of advertising campaigns (Maslow). Although the principles are used to sell a broad range of products from shampoo to breakfast cereal they are epitomised by apparel. This is with refence to garments and accessories bearing corporation logos. Whereas other purchased items, imbued with abstract products, are intended for personal consumption the public display of these symbols may be interpreted as a form of signalling. The intention of the wearers is to literally seek the fulfilment of the aforementioned social needs. This article investigates the use of brands as prosthesis.Coats and Crests: Identity Garnered on Garments in the Middle Ages and the Muromachi PeriodA logo, at its most basic, is a pictorial sign. In his essay, The Visual Language, Ernest Gombrich described the principle as reducing images to “distinctive features” (Gombrich 46). They represent a “simplification of code,” the meaning of which we are conditioned to recognise (Gombrich 46). Logos may also be interpreted as a manifestation of totemism. According to anthropologist Claude Levi-Strauss, the principle exists in all civilisations and reflects an effort to evoke the power of nature (71-127). Totemism is also a method of population distribution (Levi-Strauss 166).This principle, in a form garnered on garments, is manifested in Mon Kiri. The practice of cutting out family crests evolved into a form of corporate branding in Japan during the Meiji Period (1868-1912) (Christensen 14). During the Muromachi period (1336-1573) the crests provided an integral means of identification on the battlefield (Christensen 13). The adorning of crests on armour was also exercised in Europe during the twelfth century, when the faces of knights were similarly obscured by helmets (Family Crests of Japan 8). Both Mon Kiri and “Coat[s] of Arms” utilised totemic symbols (Family Crests of Japan 8; Elven 14; Christensen 13). The mon for the imperial family (figs. 1 & 2) during the Muromachi Period featured chrysanthemum and paulownia flowers (Goin’ Japaneque). “Coat[s] of Arms” in Britain featured a menagerie of animals including lions (fig. 3), horses and eagles (Elven).The prothesis of identity through garnering symbols on the battlefield provided “safety” through demonstrating “belongingness”. This constituted a conflation of two separate “needs” in the “hierarchy of prepotency” propositioned by Maslow. Fig. 1. The mon symbolising the Imperial Family during the Muromachi Period featured chrysanthemum and paulownia. "Kamon (Japanese Family Crests): Ancient Key to Samurai Culture." Goin' Japaneque! 15 Nov. 2015. 27 July 2019 <http://goinjapanesque.com/05983/>.Fig. 2. An example of the crest being utilised on a garment can be found in this portrait of samurai Oda Nobunaga. "Japan's 12 Most Famous Samurai." All About Japan. 27 Aug. 2018. 27 July 2019 <https://allabout-japan.com/en/article/5818/>.Fig. 3. A detail from the “Index of Subjects of Crests.” Elven, John Peter. The Book of Family Crests: Comprising Nearly Every Family Bearing, Properly Blazoned and Explained, Accompanied by Upwards of Four Thousand Engravings. Henry Washbourne, 1847.The Pursuit of Prestige: Prosthetic Pedigree from the Late Georgian to the Victorian Eras In 1817, the seal engraver to Prince Regent, Alexander Deuchar, described the function of family crests in British Crests: Containing The Crest and Mottos of The Families of Great Britain and Ireland; Together with Those of The Principal Cities and Heraldic Terms as follows: The first approach to civilization is the distinction of ranks. So necessary is this to the welfare and existence of society, that, without it, anarchy and confusion must prevail… In an early stage, heraldic emblems were characteristic of the bearer… Certain ordinances were made, regulating the mode of bearing arms, and who were entitled to bear them. (i-v)The partitioning of social classes in Britain had deteriorated by the time this compendium was published, with displays of “conspicuous consumption” displacing “heraldic emblems” as a primary method of status signalling (Deuchar 2; Han et al. 18). A consumerism born of newfound affluence, and the desire to signify this wealth through luxury goods, was as integral to the Industrial Revolution as technological development. In Rebels against the Future, published in 1996, Kirkpatrick Sale described the phenomenon:A substantial part of the new population, though still a distinct minority, was made modestly affluent, in some places quite wealthy, by privatization of of the countryside and the industrialization of the cities, and by the sorts of commercial and other services that this called forth. The new money stimulated the consumer demand… that allowed a market economy of a scope not known before. (40)This also reflected improvements in the provision of “health, food [and] education” (Maslow; Snow 25-28). With their “physiological needs” accommodated, this ”substantial part” of the population were able to prioritised their “esteem needs” including the pursuit for prestige (Sale 40; Maslow).In Britain during the Middle Ages laws “specified in minute detail” what each class was permitted to wear (Han et al. 15). A groom, for example, was not able to wear clothing that exceeded two marks in value (Han et al. 15). In a distinct departure during the Industrial Era, it was common for the “middling and lower classes” to “ape” the “fashionable vices of their superiors” (Sale 41). Although mon-like labels that were “simplified so as to be conspicuous and instantly recognisable” emerged in Europe during the nineteenth century their application on garments remained discrete up until the early twentieth century (Christensen 13-14; Moore and Reid 24). During the 1920s, the French companies Hermes and Coco Chanel were amongst the clothing manufacturers to pioneer this principle (Chaney; Icon).During the 1860s, Lincolnshire-born Charles Frederick Worth affixed gold stamped labels to the insides of his garments (Polan et al. 9; Press). Operating from Paris, the innovation was consistent with the introduction of trademark laws in France in 1857 (Lopes et al.). He would become known as the “Father of Haute Couture”, creating dresses for royalty and celebrities including Empress Eugene from Constantinople, French actress Sarah Bernhardt and Australian Opera Singer Nellie Melba (Lopes et al.; Krick). The clothing labels proved and ineffective deterrent to counterfeit, and by the 1890s the House of Worth implemented other measures to authenticate their products (Press). The legitimisation of the origin of a product is, arguably, the primary function of branding. This principle is also applicable to subjects. The prothesis of brands, as totemic symbols, assisted consumers to relocate themselves within a new system of population distribution (Levi-Strauss 166). It was one born of commerce as opposed to heraldry.Selling of Self: Conferring Identity from the Neolithic to Modern ErasIn his 1817 compendium on family crests, Deuchar elaborated on heraldry by writing:Ignoble birth was considered as a stain almost indelible… Illustrious parentage, on the other hand, constituted the very basis of honour: it communicated peculiar rights and privileges, to which the meaner born man might not aspire. (v-vi)The Twinings Logo (fig. 4) has remained unchanged since the design was commissioned by the grandson of the company founder Richard Twining in 1787 (Twining). In addition to reflecting the heritage of the family-owned company, the brand indicated the origin of the tea. This became pertinent during the nineteenth century. Plantations began to operate from Assam to Ceylon (Jones 267-269). Amidst the rampant diversification of tea sources in the Victorian era, concerns about the “unhygienic practices” of Chinese producers were proliferated (Wengrow 11). Subsequently, the brand also offered consumers assurance in quality. Fig. 4. The Twinings Logo reproduced from "History of Twinings." Twinings. 24 July 2019 <https://www.twinings.co.uk/about-twinings/history-of-twinings>.The term ‘brand’, adapted from the Norse “brandr”, was introduced into the English language during the sixteenth century (Starcevic 179). At its most literal, it translates as to “burn down” (Starcevic 179). Using hot elements to singe markings onto animals been recorded as early as 2700 BCE in Egypt (Starcevic 182). However, archaeologists concur that the modern principle of branding predates this practice. The implementation of carved seals or stamps to make indelible impressions of handcrafted objects dates back to Prehistoric Mesopotamia (Starcevic 183; Wengrow 13). Similar traditions developed during the Bronze Age in both China and the Indus Valley (Starcevic 185). In all three civilisations branding facilitated both commerce and aspects of Totemism. In the sixth millennium BCE in “Prehistoric” Mesopotamia, referred to as the Halaf period, stone seals were carved to emulate organic form such as animal teeth (Wengrow 13-14). They were used to safeguard objects by “confer[ring] part of the bearer’s personality” (Wengrow 14). They were concurrently applied to secure the contents of vessels containing “exotic goods” used in transactions (Wengrow 15). Worn as amulets (figs. 5 & 6) the seals, and the symbols they produced, were a physical extension of their owners (Wengrow 14).Fig. 5. Recreation of stamp seal amulets from Neolithic Mesopotamia during the sixth millennium BCE. Wengrow, David. "Prehistories of Commodity Branding." Current Anthropology 49.1 (2008): 14.Fig. 6. “Lot 25Y: Rare Syrian Steatite Amulet – Fertility God 5000 BCE.” The Salesroom. 27 July 2019 <https://www.the-saleroom.com/en-gb/auction-catalogues/artemis-gallery-ancient-art/catalogue-id-srartem10006/lot-a850d229-a303-4bae-b68c-a6130005c48a>. Fig. 7. Recreation of stamp seal designs from Mesopotamia from the late fifth to fourth millennium BCE. Wengrow, David. "Prehistories of Commodity Branding." Current Anthropology 49. 1 (2008): 16.In the following millennia, the seals would increase exponentially in application and aesthetic complexity (fig. 7) to support the development of household cum cottage industries (Wengrow 15). In addition to handcrafts, sealed vessels would transport consumables such as wine, aromatic oils and animal fats (Wengrow 18). The illustrations on the seals included depictions of rituals undertaken by human figures and/or allegories using animals. It can be ascertained that the transition in the Victorian Era from heraldry to commerce, from family to corporation, had precedence. By extension, consumers were able to participate in this process of value attribution using brands as signifiers. The principle remained prevalent during the modern and post-modern eras and can be respectively interpreted using structuralist and post-structuralist theory.Totemism to Simulacrum: The Evolution of Advertising from the Modern to Post-Modern Eras In 2011, Lisa Chaney wrote of the inception of the Coco Chanel logo (fig. 8) in her biography Chanel: An Intimate Life: A crucial element in the signature design of the Chanel No.5 bottle is the small black ‘C’ within a black circle set as the seal at the neck. On the top of the lid are two more ‘C’s, intertwined back to back… from at least 1924, the No5 bottles sported the unmistakable logo… these two ‘C’s referred to Gabrielle, – in other words Coco Chanel herself, and would become the logo for the House of Chanel. Chaney continued by describing Chanel’s fascination of totemic symbols as expressed through her use of tarot cards. She also “surrounded herself with objects ripe with meaning” such as representations of wheat and lions in reference prosperity and to her zodiac symbol ‘Leo’ respectively. Fig. 8. No5 Chanel Perfume, released in 1924, featured a seal-like logo attached to the bottle neck. “No5.” Chanel. 25 July 2019 <https://www.chanel.com/us/fragrance/p/120450/n5-parfum-grand-extrait/>.Fig. 9. This illustration of the bottle by Georges Goursat was published in a women’s magazine circa 1920s. “1921 Chanel No5.” Inside Chanel. 26 July 2019 <http://inside.chanel.com/en/timeline/1921_no5>; “La 4éme Fête de l’Histoire Samedi 16 et dimache 17 juin.” Ville de Perigueux. Musée d’art et d’archéologie du Périgord. 28 Mar. 2018. 26 July 2019 <https://www.perigueux-maap.fr/category/archives/page/5/>. This product was considered the “financial basis” of the Chanel “empire” which emerged during the second and third decades of the twentieth century (Tikkanen). Chanel is credited for revolutionising Haute Couture by introducing chic modern designs that emphasised “simplicity and comfort.” This was as opposed to the corseted highly embellished fashion that characterised the Victorian Era (Tikkanen). The lavish designs released by the House of Worth were, in and of themselves, “conspicuous” displays of “consumption” (Veblen 17). In contrast, the prestige and status associated with the “poor girl” look introduced by Chanel was invested in the story of the designer (Tikkanen). A primary example is her marinière or sailor’s blouse with a Breton stripe that epitomised her ascension from café singer to couturier (Tikkanen; Burstein 8). This signifier might have gone unobserved by less discerning consumers of fashion if it were not for branding. Not unlike the Prehistoric Mesopotamians, this iteration of branding is a process which “confer[s]” the “personality” of the designer into the garment (Wengrow 13 -14). The wearer of the garment is, in turn, is imbued by extension. Advertisers in the post-structuralist era embraced Levi-Strauss’s structuralist anthropological theories (Williamson 50). This is with particular reference to “bricolage” or the “preconditioning” of totemic symbols (Williamson 173; Pool 50). Subsequently, advertising creatives cum “bricoleur” employed his principles to imbue the brands with symbolic power. This symbolic capital was, arguably, transferable to the product and, ultimately, to its consumer (Williamson 173).Post-structuralist and semiotician Jean Baudrillard “exhaustively” critiqued brands and the advertising, or simulacrum, that embellished them between the late 1960s and early 1980s (Wengrow 10-11). In Simulacra and Simulation he wrote,it is the reflection of a profound reality; it masks and denatures a profound reality; it masks the absence of a profound reality; it has no relation to any reality whatsoever: it is its own pure simulacrum. (6)The symbolic power of the Chanel brand resonates in the ‘profound reality’ of her story. It is efficiently ‘denatured’ through becoming simplified, conspicuous and instantly recognisable. It is, as a logo, physically juxtaposed as simulacra onto apparel. This simulacrum, in turn, effects the ‘profound reality’ of the consumer. In 1899, economist Thorstein Veblen wrote in The Theory of the Leisure Class:Conspicuous consumption of valuable goods it the means of reputability to the gentleman of leisure… costly entertainments, such as potlatch or the ball, are peculiarly adapted to serve this end… he consumes vicariously for his host at the same time that he is witness to the consumption… he is also made to witness his host’s facility in etiquette. (47)Therefore, according to Veblen, it was the witnessing of “wasteful” consumption that “confers status” as opposed the primary conspicuous act (Han et al. 18). Despite television being in its experimental infancy advertising was at “the height of its powers” during the 1920s (Clark et al. 18; Hill 30). Post-World War I consumers, in America, experienced an unaccustomed level of prosperity and were unsuspecting of the motives of the newly formed advertising agencies (Clark et al. 18). Subsequently, the ‘witnessing’ of consumption could be constructed across a plethora of media from the newly emerged commercial radio to billboards (Hill viii–25). The resulting ‘status’ was ‘conferred’ onto brand logos. Women’s magazines, with a legacy dating back to 1828, were a primary locus (Hill 10).Belonging in a Post-Structuralist WorldIt is significant to note that, in a post-structuralist world, consumers do not exclusively seek upward mobility in their selection of brands. The establishment of counter-culture icon Levi-Strauss and Co. was concurrent to the emergence of both The House of Worth and Coco Chanel. The Bavarian-born Levi Strauss commenced selling apparel in San Francisco in 1853 (Levi’s). Two decades later, in partnership with Nevada born tailor Jacob Davis, he patented the “riveted-for-strength” workwear using blue denim (Levi’s). Although the ontology of ‘jeans’ is contested, references to “Jene Fustyan” date back the sixteenth century (Snyder 139). It involved the combining cotton, wool and linen to create “vestments” for Geonese sailors (Snyder 138). The Two Horse Logo (fig. 10), depicting them unable to pull apart a pair of jeans to symbolise strength, has been in continuous use by Levi Strauss & Co. company since its design in 1886 (Levi’s). Fig. 10. The Two Horse Logo by Levi Strauss & Co. has been in continuous use since 1886. Staff Unzipped. "Two Horses. One Message." Heritage. Levi Strauss & Co. 1 July 2011. 25 July 2019 <https://www.levistrauss.com/2011/07/01/two-horses-many-versions-one-message/>.The “rugged wear” would become the favoured apparel amongst miners at American Gold Rush (Muthu 6). Subsequently, between the 1930s – 1960s Hollywood films cultivated jeans as a symbol of “defiance” from Stage Coach staring John Wayne in 1939 to Rebel without A Cause staring James Dean in 1955 (Muthu 6; Edgar). Consequently, during the 1960s college students protesting in America (fig. 11) against the draft chose the attire to symbolise their solidarity with the working class (Hedarty). Notwithstanding a 1990s fashion revision of denim into a diversity of garments ranging from jackets to skirts, jeans have remained a wardrobe mainstay for the past half century (Hedarty; Muthu 10). Fig. 11. Although the brand label is not visible, jeans as initially introduced to the American Goldfields in the nineteenth century by Levi Strauss & Co. were cultivated as a symbol of defiance from the 1930s – 1960s. It documents an anti-war protest that occurred at the Pentagon in 1967. Cox, Savannah. "The Anti-Vietnam War Movement." ATI. 14 Dec. 2016. 16 July 2019 <https://allthatsinteresting.com/vietnam-war-protests#7>.In 2003, the journal Science published an article “Does Rejection Hurt? An Fmri Study of Social Exclusion” (Eisenberger et al.). The cross-institutional study demonstrated that the neurological reaction to rejection is indistinguishable to physical pain. Whereas during the 1940s Maslow classified the desire for “belonging” as secondary to “physiological needs,” early twenty-first century psychologists would suggest “[social] acceptance is a mechanism for survival” (Weir 50). In Simulacra and Simulation, Jean Baudrillard wrote: Today abstraction is no longer that of the map, the double, the mirror or the concept. Simulation is no longer that of a territory, a referential being or a substance. It is the generation by models of a real without origin or reality: a hyperreal… (1)In the intervening thirty-eight years since this document was published the artifice of our interactions has increased exponentially. In order to locate ‘belongness’ in this hyperreality, the identities of the seekers require a level of encoding. Brands, as signifiers, provide a vehicle.Whereas in Prehistoric Mesopotamia carved seals, worn as amulets, were used to extend the identity of a person, in post-digital China WeChat QR codes (fig. 12), stored in mobile phones, are used to facilitate transactions from exchanging contact details to commerce. Like other totems, they provide access to information such as locations, preferences, beliefs, marital status and financial circumstances. These individualised brands are the most recent incarnation of a technology that has developed over the past eight thousand years. The intermediary iteration, emblems affixed to garments, has remained prevalent since the twelfth century. Their continued salience is due to their visibility and, subsequent, accessibility as signifiers. Fig. 12. It may be posited that Wechat QR codes are a form individualised branding. Like other totems, they store information pertaining to the owner’s location, beliefs, preferences, marital status and financial circumstances. “Join Wechat groups using QR code on 2019.” Techwebsites. 26 July 2019 <https://techwebsites.net/join-wechat-group-qr-code/>.Fig. 13. Brands function effectively as signifiers is due to the international distribution of multinational corporations. This is the shopfront of Chanel in Dubai, which offers customers apparel bearing consistent insignia as the Parisian outlet at on Rue Cambon. Customers of Chanel can signify to each other with the confidence that their products will be recognised. “Chanel.” The Dubai Mall. 26 July 2019 <https://thedubaimall.com/en/shop/chanel>.Navigating a post-structuralist world of increasing mobility necessitates a rudimental understanding of these symbols. Whereas in the nineteenth century status was conveyed through consumption and witnessing consumption, from the twentieth century onwards the garnering of brands made this transaction immediate (Veblen 47; Han et al. 18). The bricolage of the brands is constructed by bricoleurs working in any number of contemporary creative fields such as advertising, filmmaking or song writing. They provide a system by which individuals can convey and recognise identities at prima facie. They enable the prosthesis of identity.ReferencesBaudrillard, Jean. Simulacra and Simulation. Trans. Sheila Faria Glaser. United States: University of Michigan Press, 1994.Burstein, Jessica. Cold Modernism: Literature, Fashion, Art. United States: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2012.Chaney, Lisa. Chanel: An Intimate Life. United Kingdom: Penguin Books Limited, 2011.Christensen, J.A. Cut-Art: An Introduction to Chung-Hua and Kiri-E. New York: Watson-Guptill Publications, 1989. Clark, Eddie M., Timothy C. Brock, David E. Stewart, David W. Stewart. Attention, Attitude, and Affect in Response to Advertising. United Kingdom: Taylor & Francis Group, 1994.Deuchar, Alexander. British Crests: Containing the Crests and Mottos of the Families of Great Britain and Ireland Together with Those of the Principal Cities – Primary So. London: Kirkwood & Sons, 1817.Ebert, Robert. “Great Movie: Stage Coach.” Robert Ebert.com. 1 Aug. 2011. 10 Mar. 2019 <https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-stagecoach-1939>.Elven, John Peter. The Book of Family Crests: Comprising Nearly Every Family Bearing, Properly Blazoned and Explained, Accompanied by Upwards of Four Thousand Engravings. London: Henry Washbourne, 1847.Eisenberger, Naomi I., Matthew D. Lieberman, and Kipling D. Williams. "Does Rejection Hurt? An Fmri Study of Social Exclusion." Science 302.5643 (2003): 290-92.Family Crests of Japan. California: Stone Bridge Press, 2007.Gombrich, Ernst. "The Visual Image: Its Place in Communication." Scientific American 272 (1972): 82-96.Hedarty, Stephanie. "How Jeans Conquered the World." BBC World Service. 28 Feb. 2012. 26 July 2019 <https://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-17101768>. Han, Young Jee, Joseph C. Nunes, and Xavier Drèze. "Signaling Status with Luxury Goods: The Role of Brand Prominence." Journal of Marketing 74.4 (2010): 15-30.Hill, Daniel Delis. Advertising to the American Woman, 1900-1999. United States of Ame: Ohio State University Press, 2002."History of Twinings." Twinings. 24 July 2019 <https://www.twinings.co.uk/about-twinings/history-of-twinings>. icon-icon: Telling You More about Icons. 18 Dec. 2016. 26 July 2019 <http://www.icon-icon.com/en/hermes-logo-the-horse-drawn-carriage/>. Jones, Geoffrey. Merchants to Multinationals: British Trading Companies in the 19th and 20th Centuries. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2002.Kamon (Japanese Family Crests): Ancient Key to Samurai Culture." Goin' Japaneque! 15 Nov. 2015. 27 July 2019 <http://goinjapanesque.com/05983/>. Krick, Jessa. "Charles Frederick Worth (1825-1895) and the House of Worth." Heilburnn Timeline of Art History. The Met. Oct. 2004. 23 July 2019 <https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/wrth/hd_wrth.htm>. Levi’s. "About Levis Strauss & Co." 25 July 2019 <https://www.levis.com.au/about-us.html>. Lévi-Strauss, Claude. Totemism. London: Penguin, 1969.Lopes, Teresa de Silva, and Paul Duguid. Trademarks, Brands, and Competitiveness. Abingdon: Routledge, 2010.Maslow, Abraham. "A Theory of Human Motivation." British Journal of Psychiatry 208.4 (1942): 313-13.Moore, Karl, and Susan Reid. "The Birth of Brand: 4000 Years of Branding History." Business History 4.4 (2008).Muthu, Subramanian Senthikannan. Sustainability in Denim. Cambridge Woodhead Publishing, 2017.Polan, Brenda, and Roger Tredre. The Great Fashion Designers. Oxford: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2009.Pool, Roger C. Introduction. Totemism. New ed. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1969.Press, Claire. Wardrobe Crisis: How We Went from Sunday Best to Fast Fashion. Melbourne: Schwartz Publishing, 2016.Sale, K. Rebels against the Future: The Luddites and Their War on the Industrial Revolution: Lessons for the Computer Age. Massachusetts: Addison-Wesley, 1996.Snow, C.P. The Two Cultures and the Scientific Revolution. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1959. Snyder, Rachel Louise. Fugitive Denim: A Moving Story of People and Pants in the Borderless World of Global Trade. New York: W.W. Norton, 2008.Starcevic, Sladjana. "The Origin and Historical Development of Branding and Advertising in the Old Civilizations of Africa, Asia and Europe." Marketing 46.3 (2015): 179-96.Tikkanen, Amy. "Coco Chanel." Encyclopaedia Britannica. 19 Apr. 2019. 25 July 2019 <https://www.britannica.com/biography/Coco-Chanel>.Veblen, Thorstein. The Theory of the Leisure Class: An Economic Study in the Evolution of Institutions. London: Macmillan, 1975.Weir, Kirsten. "The Pain of Social Rejection." American Psychological Association 43.4 (2012): 50.Williamson, Judith. Decoding Advertisements: Ideology and Meaning in Advertising. Ideas in Progress. London: Boyars, 1978.

Bien avant que Heidegger ait insisté sur la nécessité de poser la bonne question (Fragestellung), les Scolastiques en établissaient l’état (status questionis) avant d’y répondre. Or, les savants occidentaux qui se sont interrogés à propos des phénomènes de la Magie et de la Sorcellerie ont souvent sauté à pieds joints dans le piège ethnocentrique tendu aussi bien par leur tradition gréco-latine et judéo-chrétienne que leur usage d’une langue indoeuropéenne. D’une part, la première a opposé les Vérités objectives de la Raison pure aux dérapages subjectifs de la Déraison émotive et la morale de la Religion révélée à l’immoralité de la superstition satanique. D’autre part, le second, à cause de la distinction factice entre le nom (nature) et le verbe (action adventice) a dissocié comme allant de soi les substances permanentes et profondes des choses de leurs variations accidentelles. Il se fait que ces présupposés paradigmatiques sont ignorés par la plupart des cultures non occidentales et préjugent la compréhension équitable de celles-ci par des esprits occidentaux. Pour bien le comprendre, jusqu’à preuve manifeste du contraire, il faut assumer que l’Autre le soit radicalement : qu’il a fait son monde en fonction de principes primordiaux et de préoccupations pratiques irréductibles à leurs pendants responsables pour le monde occidental et qu’il en parle de manière tout aussi incommensurable. Pour commencer au commencement : tout ce qui fait sens part de et revient à un acteur personnel, à un « Je », incarné dans son corps propre d’instant en instant et incorporé en continu dans sa situation sociohistorique. A supposer que « Je » soit un anthropologue occidental ou occidentalisé (il n’y en a pas d’autres) alors il aborde les faits ou les construits culturels d’autrui avec le déjà tout fait chez lui dont sa rationalité (scientifique) et sa religiosité (chrétienne) avec le risque d’identifier son interlocuteur indigène comme lui-même en plus petit et en moins performant. Le seul moyen d’éviter cette réduction des réalités d’autrui aux réalisations de chez soi est de le rencontrer en fonction de prémisses purement heuristiques telles qu’en amont, la primordialité de l’Agir et en aval, la localisation des actions de fait dans des lieux particuliers. Si tous les vivants, les humains inclus, cherchent à en sortir, justement, vivants, ils le font dans le milieu ou mode de (re)production où ils se retrouvent et avec la mentalité et selon les mœurs qui s’y trouvent. C’est dire que l’abc de l’approche anthropologique est d’ordre topologique : à chaque lieu (topos) sa logique et son langage. Or, abstraction faite de son dénigrement rationaliste et religieux, la magie définie comme la confiance (aveugle) dans l’efficacité (automatique) du recours (rigoureux voire rigoriste) à des moyens (mécaniques), des gestes (immuables) et des formules (figées), possède en propre un milieu où il a droit d’avoir lieu. Néanmoins, commençons par le non-lieu de la magie. Chez les Pygmées Bambuti du Congo il n’y a ni prêtre ni politicien, ni policier ni professeur, ni plombier ni prédateur. Par conséquence, en l’absence de tout Dehors pesant, idéologique ou institutionnel, il est tout à fait topo-logique que dans ses rapports avec les siens et la Forêt le « Je » le Mbuti ne se fie qu’à son dedans. D’où le fait que les topographes du monde pygmée ont constaté non seulement qu’il était sans magie aucune mais que sa religiosité étant une affaire de pure spiritualité personnelle il y avait peu de sens à parler d’une religion pygmée faute de spéculations dogmatiques et de structures cléricales. Par contre, chez leurs voisins, des agriculteurs bantous, les mêmes topographes (surtout les théologiens parmi eux) ont conclu que la magie avait largement pris le dessus sur le religieux. Mais, de nouveau, rien de plus topologiquement normal dans ce constat. Quand, dans un village bantou ou dans une paroisse ouvrière, tout vous tombe dessus en permanence du dehors et d’en haut, il n’y a guère de place pour le genre de religiosité profonde que peuvent se permettre des gens soit libres de leurs moyens soit en ayant peu. Quand les ancêtres ou l’administration vous ont imposé des tabous et des interdits dont le non-respect même involontaire entraine des sanctions immédiates et automatiques, quand votre comportement quotidien est préprogrammé à la lettre de votre condition sociale, de votre âge et sexe, quand pour faire face vous avez besoin des autorités et des experts, quand en respectant minutieusement le règlement vous évitez les ennuis et quand en remplissant correctement les formulaires des allocations familiales et autres vous sont acquises comme par magie… comment ne pas croire que des objets matériels et des opérations rituels produisent infailliblement par le simple fait d’avoir été scrupuleusement activés (ex opere operato) les objectifs escomptés ? Entre le respect irréfléchi des tabous ancestraux et l’observance stricte des commandements de l’Eglise, entre le recours à des amulettes prescrites par votre « sorcier » traitant et la foi dans les médailles miraculeuses distribuées par votre curé paroissial, entre l’efficacité ipso facto des malédictions et des bénédictions du magicien villageois et les paroles de transsubstantiation d’un prêtre catholique (même en vue d’une messe noire), il y a beau béer une abime théologique, topologiquement parlant c’est du pareil au même. De ce point de vue topologique, les missionnaires, notamment catholiques, n’ont pas tant converti le païen superstitieux à la religion révélée que remplacé la magie indigène par un succédané chrétien. Si, en devenant catholiques les WaKonongo que j’ai côtoyé dans la Tanzanie profonde entre 1969 et 1972 ont cessé de sacrifier un poulet noir à Katabi et commencé à se payer des messes à la Vierge contre la sécheresse c’est que restés foncièrement pagani ou ruraux, cette nouvelle interlocutrice leur était parue plus faiseuse de pluie que le préposé d’antan. Avant d’éventuellement passer à leur consécration ou à leur condamnation, il faut enlever dans la présence ou l’absence du langage et de la logique ritualiste (décrits et parfois décriés comme « la mentalité et mécanique magique ») tout ce qui relève inéluctablement du lieu. Ce ne sont pas les seuls rationalistes ou religieux occidentaux qui, en escamotant leurs conditions topologiques, se sont lancés dans appréciations et dépréciations intempestives de la magie et la sorcellerie. Les Pygmées préférant faire l’amour avec des femmes réglées se moquaient de la peur bleue du sang menstruel éprouvée par des Bantous. Débarqués volontairement au village, ils faisaient semblant de croire aux menées mortelles des sorciers afin de ne pas compromettre les ponctions qu’ils opéraient auprès de leur prétendus « Maîtres ». Les Ik, les pendants ougandais des Bambuti, tout en sachant que des rites magiques (sacrifice du poulet ou de la messe) ne pouvaient pas produire de la pluie en inventaient de toutes pièces pour profiter de la crédulité de leurs voisins pasteurs et agriculteurs. Il existe donc des lieux sans sorcellerie. Mais si c’est le cas, c’est surtout parce que pas plus que Le Mariage ou La Maladie et un tas d’autres choses du même gabarit onto-épistémologique, La Sorcellerie « ça » n’existe pas en tant qu’une substantialité qui serait solidement significative indépendamment de ses manifestations singulièrement situées. N’existent pleinement en définitive que des mariés, des malades et des sorciers. Le fait de s’exprimer en une langue indoeuropéenne induit cette illusion essentialiste que les pratiquants d’une autre langue ne partagent pas. En disant « il pleut » ou « it’s raining » nous imaginons instinctivement que le sujet de la phrase représente une entité essentielle, la pluie, qui existe au préalable avant, comme le verbe l’implique, qu’il se mette tout d’un coup mais après coup à pleuvoir. Or, et de manière autrement plus phénoménologiquement plausible, un peuple indien de l’Amérique du Nord, les Hopi, non seulement pensent uniquement à un processus, « la pluviation », mais quand ils en parlent ciblent une expérience particulière. Forcé et contraint par les évidences ethnographiques, ayant eu à enquêter sur des cas concrets de sorcellerie entre autres en Tanzanie, au Nigeria, au Congo, en Ethiopie et au Sénégal, j’ai chaque fois eu l’impression non pas d’avoir eu affaire à des variations de la Sorcellerie ut sic et en soi mais à des individus et des instances aussi incompressibles qu’incommensurables entre eux. Débarqué chez les WaKonongo non seulement avec des histoires de sorcellerie à l’occidentale en tête mais l’esprit empli d’élucubrations théoriques que j’imaginais devoir faire universellement loi et univoquement foi, mes interlocuteurs m’ont vite fait comprendre que je me trouvais ailleurs dans un monde tout autre. Puisqu’ils parlaient de mchawi et de mlozi, ayant en tête la distinction zande, j’ai demandé si le premier n’était pas mal intentionné à l’insu de son plein gré là où le second empoisonnait littéralement la vie des siens. Ils m’ont répondu n’avoir jamais pensé à cette possibilité, mais qu’ils allaient y réfléchir ! En conséquence, j’ai cessé de les harceler avec mes questions me contentant d’observer ce qu’ils disaient d’eux-mêmes et de participer à ce qu’ils faisaient – y inclus à des procès contre des sorciers. Ignorant notre dualisme manichéen (le Bon Dieu luttant avec le Mal incarné pour sauver les âmes du péché) ainsi que des manuels rédigés par des Inquisiteurs célibataires obsédés par « la chose », leurs sorciers n’avaient jamais pensé qu’ils pouvaient profiter d’un pacte avec le Diable et donner libre cours en sa compagnie à leur perversité sexuelle. Anthropophages, leurs sorciers avaient surtout faim (comme les WaKonongo eux-mêmes lors de la soudure ou des famines) et se débrouillaient sans faire appel à des démons. En outre, loin s’en faut, tous les wachawi n’étaient pas méchamment mauvais. Lors d’une réunion pour créer un village ujamaa personne n’a bronché quand parmi les spécialistes requis quelqu’un proposait un sorcier. « Etre vieux » et « être sorcier » semblaient parfois synonyme – peut-être comme l’aurait dit Gabriel Marcel, à cause du mystère qui entoure l’autorité des survivants. Traité de sorcier moi-même, on m’a rassuré que je comptais parmi les wachawi wa mchana (de plein jour) et non wa usiku (de la nuit). Si j’ai dû quitter précipitamment mon village c’est qu’à l’encontre des miens, contents d’avoir eu enfin affaire à un Blanc au courant du programme africain, les autorités du pays n’appréciaient guère le fait que j’aurais téléguidé des serpents sur un village rival. A première vue paradoxalement, la sorcellerie fonctionnait comme un mécanisme de justice distributive : ayant proposé de lui procurer de la tôle ondulée, un voisin dynamique a décliné mon offre de peur que le premier à en profiter des vieux jaloux n’envoient de nuit des hyènes dévorer les viscères de sa femme et ses enfants : « tant que tout le monde n’est pas en mesure de se procurer de la tôle » dit la croyance « personne n’y a droit ». Enfin et surtout, quand les WaKonongo parlaient de l’uchawi en général ils ne le faisaient jamais à froid afin d’aboutir au genre d’abstraction analytique d’ordre structurelle et substantialiste qui fait la joie des anthropologues théoriciens. C’était toujours à chaud et de manière heuristique : « n’ayant pas encore deviné le nom du mchawi qui m’en veut à mort je suis bien obligé de le situer dans un nébuleux anonyme ». Entre des hypothétiques sinon chimériques lames de fond qui ont pour nom la Magie ou la Sorcellerie et l’écume ethnographique qui émerge d’une multiplicité de monographies irréductibles, il faut bien choisir. Or, si l’anthropologie est ce que les anthropologues ont fait, font et feront, il n’y a pas de raison de croire que, pour l’essentiel, les magiciens et les sorciers (les uns plus approximativement que les autres), ne seraient que des avatars sociohistoriques de la Magie ou la Sorcellerie archétypiques fonctionnant comme des Réels de référence transhistorique et transculturels. Avant de les atteler accessoirement à l’une ou l’autre de ses charrues conceptuelles, l’anthropologue a intérêt de s’attarder sur le sort de ses bœufs vivants. En se contentant de faire état de ce que les magiciens et les sorciers ont diversement fait, font distinctement et feront autrement, on risque moins d’être victime de cette illusion d’optique ontologique que Whitehead décriait comme du « misplaced concreteness » - la confusion entre des substances purement spéculatives et la signification toujours singulière des « singletons » sociohistoriquement situées !

The past two decades have seen the publication of at least half a dozen books that consider the part that fairs, circuses, sideshows and freakshows play in the continuing cultural labour to define, categorise and control the human body, including Robert Bogdan’s Freakshow, Rosemarie Garland-Thomson’s Extraordinary Bodies, and her edited collection Freakery, and Rachel Adams’s Sideshow USA. These writers cast the freakshow as a theatre of culture, worthy of critical attention precisely because of the ways in which it has provided a popular forum for staging, solidifying and transforming ideas about the body and bodily difference, and because of its prominence in the project of modernity (Garland-Thomson “From Wonder to Error” 2-13). They point to the theatrical mechanisms by which the freakshow maps cultural anxieties about corporeal difference across ‘suitable’ bodies. For, as Bogdan (3) says, being a freak is far more than a fact of biology. The freak personae that populate the Western cultural imaginary—the fat lady, the bearded lady, the hermaphrodite and the geek—can only be produced by a performative isolation, manipulation and exaggeration of the peculiar characteristics of particular human bodies. These peculiarities have to be made explicit, in Rebecca Schneider’s (1) terms; the horror-inducing tropes of the savage, the bestial and the monstrous have to be cast across supposedly suitable and compliant flesh. The scopic mechanisms of the freakshow as a theatre, as a cabinet of corporeal curiosities in which spectators are excited, amazed and edified by the spectacle of the extraordinary body, thus support the specific forms of seeing and looking by which freak bodies are produced. It would, however, be a mistake to suggest that the titillating threat of this face-to-face encounter with the Levinasian other fully destabilises the space between signifier and signified, between the specific body and the symbolic framework in which it sits. In a somewhat paradoxical cultural manoeuvre, the ableist, sexist and racist symbolic frameworks of the freakshow unfold according to what Deleuze and Guattari (178) would call a logic of sameness. The roles, relationships and representational mechanisms of the freakshow—including the ‘talkers’ that frame the spectator’s engagement with the extraordinary body of the freak—in fact function to delineate “degrees of deviance” (178) or difference from an illusory bodily norm. So configured, the monstrous corporeality of the freak is also monstrously familiar, and is made more so by the freak spectacle’s frequent emphasis on the ways in which non-normative bodies accommodate basic functions such as grooming and eating. In such incarnations, the scenography and iconography of the freakshow in fact draws spectators into performative (mis)recognitions that manage the difference of other bodies by positioning them along a continuum that confirms the stability of the symbolic order, and the centrality of the able, white, male self in this symbolic order. Singular, specific, extraordinary bodies are subject to what might, in a Levinasian paradigm, be called the violence of categorisation and comprehension (“Is Ontology Fundamental?” 9). The circumstances of the encounter reduce the radical, unreadable difference of the other, transporting them “into the horizon of knowledge” (“Transcendence and Height” 12), and transforming them into something that serves the dominant cultural logic. In this sense, Petra Kuppers suggests, “the psychic effects of the freak spectacle have destabilizing effects, assaulting the boundaries of firm knowledge about self, but only to strengthen them again in cathartic effect” (45). By casting traits they abhor across the freak body (Garland-Thomson Extraordinary Bodies 55-56), spectators become complicit in this abhorrence; comforted, cajoled and strangely pleasured by a sense of distance from what they desire not to be. The subversive potential of the prodigious body evaporates (Garland-Thomson “From Wonder to Error” 3; Extraordinary Bodies 78). An evaporation more fully effected, writers on the freakshow explain, as the discursive construct of the freak was drawn into the sphere of medical spectacle in the late nineteenth century. As the symbolic framework for understanding disabled bodies ‘advances’ from the freak, the monster and the mutant to the medical specimen (Garland-Thomson “From Wonder to Error” 13; Extraordinary Bodies 70, 78-80; Synder and Mitchell 370-373; Stephens 492), the cultural trajectory away from extraordinary bodies with the capacity to expand the classes and categories of the human is complete. The medical profession finally fulfils the cultural compulsion to abstract peculiar bodily characteristics into symptoms, and, as Foucault says in The Birth of the Clinic, these symptoms become surveillable, and controllable, within an objective schema of human biology. Physical differences and idiosyncrasies are “enclosed within the singularity of the patient, in that region of ‘subjective symptoms’ that—for the doctor—defines not only the mode of knowledge, but the world of objects to be known” (xi). The freak body becomes no more than an example of human misfortune, to be examined, categorised and cared for by medical experts behind closed doors, and the freakshow fades from the stage of popular culture (Garland-Thomson Extraordinary Bodies 70). There can, of course, be no denying the need to protect people with disabilities from exploitation at the service of a cultural fetish that enacts a compulsion to define and control bodily difference. However, recent debates in disability, cultural and performance studies have been characterised by the desire to reconsider the freakshow as a site for contesting some of the cultural logics it enacts. Theorists like Synder and Mitchell argue that medical discourse “disarms the [disabled] body of its volatile potency” (378), in the process denying people with disabilities a potentially interesting site to contest the cultural logics by which their bodies are defined. The debate begins with Bogdan’s discussion of the ways in which well-meaning disability activists may, in their desire to protect people with disabilities from exploitative practices and producers, have overlooked the fact that freakshows provided people with disabilities a degree of independence and freedom otherwise impossible (280-81). After all, as disabled performer Mat Fraser says in his documentary Born Freak, The Victorian marvels found fame and some fortune, and this actually raised the visibility, even the acceptability, of disabled people in general during a time when you could be attacked on the streets just for looking different. These disabled performers found independence and commanded respect.… If I had been born a hundred years ago, given the alternatives of—what? living the life of a village monster or idiot or being poked or prodded for cataloguing by medical types—there’s no doubt about it, I would have wanted to be in show business. (Born Freak) This question of agency extends to discussion of whether disabled performers like Fraser can, by consciously appropriating the figures, symbols and scenography of the freakshow, start to deconstruct the mechanisms by which this contested sphere of cultural practice has historically defined them, confronting spectators with their own complicity in the construction of the freak. In her analysis of Coney Island’s Sideshows by the Seashore, Elizabeth Stephens reflects on this contemporary sideshow’s capacity to reclaim the political currency of the freak. For Stephens, sideshows are sites in which norms about the body, its limits and capabilities, are theatricalized and transformed into spectacle, but, in which, for this very reason, they can also be contested. Non-normative bodies are not simply exhibited or put on display on the sideshow stage, but are rather performed as the unstable—indeed, destabilising—product of the dynamic interrelationship between performer, audience and theatrical space. (486) Theorists like Stephens (487) point to disabled performers who manipulate the scopic and discursive mechanisms of the sideshow, street performance and circus, setting them against more or less personal accounts of the way their bodies have historically been seen, to disrupt the modes of subjection the freak spectacle makes possible and precipitate a crisis in prescribed categories of meaning. Stephens (485-498) writes of Mat Fraser, who reperformed the historical personal of the short-armed Sealo the Sealboy, and Jennifer Miller, who reperformed the persona of Zenobia the bearded lady, at Sideshows by the Seashore. Sharon Mazer (257-276) writes of Katy Dierlam, who donned a Dolly Dimples babydoll dress to reperform the clichéd fat lady figure Helon Melon, again at Sideshows by the Seashore, counterposing Melon’s monstrous obesity with comments affirming her body’s potent humanity, and quotes from feminist scholars and artists such as Suzy Orbach, Karen Finley and Annie Sprinkle. Sharon Synder and David Mitchell (383) write of Mary Duffy, who reperforms the armless figure of the Venus de Milo. These practices constitute performative interventions into the cultural sphere, aligned with a broader set of contemporary performance practices which contest the symbolic frameworks by which racial and gender characteristics are displayed on the popular stage in similar ways. Their confrontational performance strategies recall, for instance, the work of American performance artist Guillermo Gómez-Peña, who reappropriates colonial and pop cultural figurations of the racialised body in works like Two Undiscovered Amerindians Visit…, in which he and Coco Fusco cast themselves as two caged savages. In such works, Gómez-Peña and his collaborators use parallel performance strategies to engage the “spectacle of the Other-as-freak” (297). “The idea is to exaggerate the features of fear and desire in the Anglo imagination and ‘spectacularize’ our ‘extreme identities’, so to speak, with the clear understanding that these identities have been invented by the surgery of the global media” (297) Gómez-Peña says. These remobilisations of the monstrous operate within the paradigm of the explicit, a term Schneider coined a decade ago to describe the performance art practices of women who write the animalised, sexualised characteristics with which they are symbolically aligned across their own corporeally ‘suitable’ bodies, replaying their culturally assigned identities “with a voluble, ‘in your face’ vengeance” (100), “a literal vengeance” (109). Such practices reclaim the destablising potential of the freak spectacle, collapsing, complicating or exploding the space between signifier and signified to show that the freak is a discursive construct (22-23), and thus for Schneider, following Benjamin, threatening the whole symbolic system with collapse (2, 6). By positioning their bodies as a ground that manifestly fails to ground the reality they represent, these performers play with the idea that the reality of the freak is really just part of the order of representation. There is nothing behind it, nothing beyond it, nothing up the magician’s sleeve—identity is but a sideshow hall of mirrors in which the ‘blow off’ is always a big disappointment. Bodies marked by disability are not commodified, or even clearly visible, in the Western capitalist scopic economy in the same way as Schneider’s women performers. Nevertheless, disabled performers still use related strategies to reclaim a space for what Schneider calls a postmodern politics of transgression (4), exposing “the sedimented layers of signification themselves” (21), rather than establishing “an originary, true or redemptive body” (21) beneath. The contestational logic of these modes of practice notwithstanding, Stephens (486) notes that performers still typically cite a certain ambivalence about their potential. There are, after all, specific risks for people with disabilities working in this paradigm that are not fully drawn out in the broader debate about critical reappropriation of racist and sexist imagery in performance art. Mobilisations of the freak persona are complicated by the performer’s own corporeal ‘suitability’ to that persona, by the familiar theatrical mechanisms of recognition and reception (which can remain undertheorised in meta-level considerations of the political currency of the freakshow in disability and cultural—rather than performance—studies), and by a dominant cultural discourse that insists on configuring disability as an individual problem detached from the broader sphere of identity politics (Sandahl 598-99). In other words, the territory that still needs to be addressed in this emergent field of practice is the ethics of reception, and the risk of spectatorial (mis)recognitions that reduce the political potency of the freak spectacle. The main risk, of course, is that mobilisations of the freak persona may still be read by spectators as part of the phenomenon they are trying to challenge, the critical counterpositions failing to register, or failing to disrupt fully the familiar scopic and discursive framework. More problematically, the counterpositions themselves may be reduced by spectators to a rhetorical device that distances them from the corporeal reality of the encounter with the other, enabling them to interpret or explain the experience of disability as a personal experience by which an individual comes to accommodate their problems. Whilst the human desire to construct narrative and psychological contexts for traumatic experience cannot be denied, Carrie Sandahl (583) notes that there is a risk that the encounter with the disabled body will be interpreted as part of the broader phenomenon Synder and Mitchell describe in Narrative Prosthesis, in which disability is little more than a metaphor for the problems people have to get past in life. In this interpretative paradigm, disability enters a discursive and theoretical terrain that fails to engage fully the lived experience of the other. Perhaps most problematically, mobilisations of the freak persona may be read as one more manifestation of the distinctively postmodern desire to break free from the constraints of culturally condoned identity categories. This desire finds expression in the increasingly prevalent cultural phenomenon of voluntary enfreakment, in which people voluntarily differentiate, or queer their own experience of self. As Fraser says when he finds out that a company of able-bodied freaks is competing with him for audiences at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, “[t]he irony is, these days, everyone is trying to get in on our act” (Born Freak). In a brave new world where everybody wants to be a freak, activist artists “must be watchful”, Gómez-Peña warns, “for we can easily get lost in the funhouse of virtual mirrors, epistemological inversions, and distorted perceptions” (288). The reclamation of disability as a positive metaphor for a more dispersed set of human differences in the spectacle of daily life (287-98), and in theoretical figurations of feminist philosophy that favour the grotesque, the monstrous and the mechanical (Haraway Simians, Cyborgs and Women; Braidotti Nomadic Subjects), raises questions for Garland-Thomson (“Integrating Disability, Transforming Feminist Theory” 9) and Sandahl (581-83). If “disability serves as a master trope for difference,” Sandahl says, then anybody can adopt it “…to serve as a metaphor expressing their own outsider status, alienation and alterity, not necessarily the social, economic and political concerns of actual disabled people” (583). The work of disabled performers can disappear into a wider sphere of self-differentiated identities, which threatens to withdraw ‘disability’ as a politically useful category around which a distinctive group of people can generate an activist politics. To negotiate these risks, disabled performers need to work somewhere between a specific, minoritarian politics and a universal, majoritarian politics, as Sedgwick describes in Epistemology of the Closet (91; cf. Garland-Thompson “Integrating Disability, Transforming Feminist Theory” 5; cf. Stephens 493). Performers need to make their experience of otherness explicit, so that their corporeal specificity is not abstracted into a symbolic system that serves the dominant cultural logic. Performers need to contextualise this experience in social terms, so that it is not isolated from the sphere of identity politics. But performers cannot always afford to allow the freak persona to become one more manifestation of the myriad idiosyncratic identities that circulate in the postmodern popular imaginary. It is by negotiating these risks that performers encourage spectators to experience—if only fleetingly, and provisionally—a relationship to the other that is characterised not by generalisation, domestication and containment (Levinas “Substitution” 80, 88), but by respect for the other’s radical alterity, by vulnerability, and, in Derrida’s reformation of Levinasian ethics, by a singular, reciprocal and undecidable responsibility towards the other (Derrida 60-70). This is what Levinas would call an ethical relationship, in which the other exists, but as an excess, a class of being that can be recognised but never seized by comprehension (“Is Ontology Fundamental?” 7, “Transcendence and Height” 17), or sublimated as a category of, or complement to, the same (13, “Meaning and Sense” 51). Mat Fraser’s mobilisation of Sealo the Sealboy is one of the most engaging examples of the way disabled performers negotiate the complexities of this terrain. On his website, Fraser says he has always been aware of the power of confrontational presentations of his own body, and has found live forms that blur the boundaries between freakshow, sideshow and conventional theatre the best forums for “the more brutal and confrontational aspect of my investigation into disability’s difficult interface with mainstream cultural concerns” (MatFraser.co.uk). Fraser’s appropriation of Sealo was born of a fascination with the historical figure of Stanley Berent. “Stanley Berent was an American freakshow entertainer from the 1940s who looked like me,” Fraser says. “He had phocomelia. That’s the medical term for my condition. It literally means seal-like limbs. Berent’s stage name was Sealo the Sealboy” (Born Freak). Fraser first restaged Sealo after a challenge from Dick Zigun, founder of the modern Sideshows by the Seashore. He restaged Berant’s act, focused on Berant’s ability to do basic things like shaving and sawing wood with his deformed hands, for the sideshow’s audiences. While Fraser had fun playing the character on stage, he says he felt a particular discomfort playing the character on the bally platform used to pull punters into the sideshow from the street outside. “There is no powerful dynamic there,” Fraser laments. “It’s just ‘come look at the freak’” (Born Freak). Accordingly, after a season at Sideshows by the Seashore, Fraser readapted the experience as a stage play, Sealboy: Freak, in which Sealo is counterposed with the character Tam, “a modern disabled actor struggling to be seen as more than a freak” (Born Freak). This shift in the theatrical mechanisms by which he stages the freak gives Fraser the power to draw contemporary, politically correct spectators at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival into the position of sideshow gawkers, confronting them with their own fascination with his body. A potent example is a post-audition scene, in which Tam says I read this book once that said that the mainstream will only see a disabled performer in the same way they view a performing seal. Very clever, but just mimicry. No. No it can’t be like that anymore. We’ve all moved on. People are no longer more fascinated by how I do things, rather than what I say. I am an actor, not a fucking freak. (Born Freak) But, as Tam says this, he rolls a joint, and spectators are indeed wrapped up in how he does it, hardly attending to what he says. What is interesting about Fraser’s engagement with Sealo in Sealboy: Freak is the way he works with a complicated—even contradictory—range of presentational strategies. Fraser’s performance becomes explicit, expositional and estranging by turns. At times, he collapses his own identity into that of the freak, the figure so stark, so recognisable, so much more harshly drawn than its real-life referent, that it becomes a simulacrum (cf. Baudrillard 253-282), exceeding and escaping the complications of the human corporeality beneath it. Fraser allows spectators to inhabit the horror, and the humour, his disabled identity has historically provoked, reengaging the reactions they hide in everyday life. And, perhaps, if they are an educated audience at the Fringe, applauding themselves for their own ability to comprehend the freak, and the crudity of sideshow display. However, self-congratulatory comprehension of the freak persona is interrupted by the discomforting encounter with Tam, suspending—if only provisionally—spectators’ ability to reconcile this reaction with their credentials as a politically correct audience. What a closer look at mobilisations of the freak in performances such as Fraser’s demonstrates is that manipulating the theatrical mechanisms of the stage, and their potential to rapidly restructure engagement with the extraordinary body, enables performers to negotiate the risk of (mis)recognition embedded in the face-to-face encounter between self and spectator. So configured, the stage can become a site for contesting the cultural logic by which the disabled body has historically been defined. It can challenge spectators to experience—if fleetingly—the uncertainties of the face-to-face encounter with the extraordinary body, acknowledging this body’s specificity, without immediately being able to abstract, domesticate or abdicate responsibility for it—or abdicate responsibility for their own reaction to it. Whilst spectators’ willingness to reflect further on their complicity in the construction of the other remains an open and individual question, these theatrical manipulations can at least increase the chance that the cathartic effect of the encounter with the so-called freak will be disrupted or deferred. References Adams, Rachel. Sideshow USA: Freaks and the American Cultural Imagination. Chicago, IL: University of Chigaco Press, 2001. Baudrillard, Jean. “The Precision of Simulacra”. Art After Modernism: Rethinking Representation. Ed. Brian Wallis. Boston, MA: David R. Godine, 1984, 253-282. Born Freak. Dir. Paul Sapin. Written Paul Sapin and Mat Fraser. Planet Wild for Channel 4 UK, 2001. Braidotti, Rosi. Nomadic Subjects: Embodiment and Sexual Difference in Contemporary Feminist Thought. New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 1994. Bogdan, Robert. Freakshow: Presenting Human Oddities for Amusement and Profit. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1988. Deleuze, Gilles, and Felix Guattari. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Trans. Brian Massumi. Minneapolis, MN and London: University of Minnesota Press, 1987. Derrida, Jacques. Gift of Death. Trans. David Wills. Chicago IL: University of Chicago Press, 1995. Fraser, Mat. “Live Art”. MatFraser.co.uk. n.date. 30 April 2008 ‹http://www.matfraser.co.uk/live_art.php›. Foucault, Michel. The Birth of the Clinic: An Archeology of Medical Perception. Trans. AM Sheridan Smith. London: Routledge, 1976. Garland-Thomson, Rosmarie. “Integrating Disability, Transforming Feminist Theory”. NSWA Journal 14.3 (2002): 1-33. ———. Extraordinary Bodies: Figuring Physical Disability in American Culture and Literature. New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 1997. ———. “Introduction: From Wonder to Error—A Genealogy of Freak Discourse”. Freakery: Cultural Spectacles of the Extraordinary Body. Ed. Rosmarie Garland-Thomspon. New York, NY and London: New York University Press, 1996. Gómez-Peña, Guillermo. “Culture-in-extremis: Performing Against the Cultural Backdrop of the Mainstream Bizarre”. The Performance Studies Reader. Ed. Henry Bial. London and New York: Routledge, 2004, 287-298. Haraway, Donna. Simians, Cyborgs and Women. New York, NY: Routledge, 1991. Kuppers, Petra. Disability and Contemporary Performance: Bodies on Edge. New York, NY: Routledge, 2004. Levinas, Emmanuel. “Is Ontology Fundamental?”. Emmanuel Levinas: Basic Philosophical Writings. Ed. Adriaan Peperzak, Simon Critchley and Robert Bernasconi. Bloomington and Indianapolis, IN: Indiana University Press, pp. 1-10. ———. “Transcendence and Height”. Emmanuel Levinas: Basic Philosophical Writings. Ed. Adriaan Peperzak, Simon Critchley and Robert Bernasconi. Bloomington and Indianapolis, IN: Indiana University Press, pp. 11-31. ———. “Meaning and Sense”. Emmanuel Levinas: Basic Philosophical Writings. Ed. Adriaan Peperzak, Simon Critchley and Robert Bernasconi. Bloomington and Indianapolis, IN: Indiana University Press, pp. 33-64. ———. “Substitution”. Emmanuel Levinas: Basic Philosophical Writings. Ed. Adriaan Peperzak, Simon Critchley and Robert Bernasconi. Bloomington and Indianapolis, IN: Indiana University Press, pp. 79-95. Mazer, Sharon. “‘She’s so fat…’ Facing the Fat Lady at Coney Island’s Sideshows by the Seashore”. Bodies Out of Bounds: Fatness and Transgression. Ed. Jana Evens Braziel and Kathryn LeBesco. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2001, 257-276. Sandahl, Carrie. “Black Man, Blind Man: Disability Identity Politics and Performance”. Theatre Journal 56 (2004): 597-602. Schneider, Rebecca. The Explicit Body in Performance. New York, NY and London: Routledge, 1997. Sedgwick, Eve Kosofsky. Epistemology of the Closet. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1990. Snyder, Sharon L. and David T Mitchell. “Re-engaging the Body: Disability Studies and the Resistance to Embodiment”. Public Culture, 13.3 (2001): 367-389. ———. Narrative Prosthesis: Disability and the Dependencies of Discourse. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press, 2000. Stephens, Elizabeth. “Cultural Fixations of the Freak Body: Coney Island and the Postmodern Sideshow”. Continuum: Journal of Media and Cultural Studies 20.4 (2006): 485-498. Acknowledgements An earlier version of this paper was presented at “Extreme States: Issues of Scale—Political, Performative, Emotional”, the Australasian Association for Drama Theatre and Performance Studies Annual Conference 2007.

Are male porn stars full-fledged citizens? Recent political developments make this question more than rhetorical. The Bush Justice Department, led by Attorney General John Ashcroft, has targeted the porn industry, beginning with its prosecution of Extreme Associates. More recently, the President requested an increase in the FBI’s 2005 budget for prosecuting obscenity, one of the few budget increases for the Bureau outside of its anti-terrorism program (Schmitt A1). To be sure, the concept of “citizen” is itself vexed. Citizenship, when obtained or granted, ostensibly legitimates a subject and opens up pathways to privilege: social, political, economic, etc. Yet all citizens do not seem to be created equal. “There is, in the operation of state-defined rules and in common practices an assumption of moral worth in which de facto as opposed to de jure rights of citizenship are defined as open to those who are deserving or who are capable of acting responsibly,” asserts feminist critic Linda McDowell. “The less deserving and the less responsible are defined as unworthy of or unfitted for the privileges of full citizenship” (150). Under this rubric, a citizen must measure up to a standard of “moral worth”—an individual is not a full-fledged citizen merely on the basis of birth or geographical placement. As McDowell concludes, “citizenship is not an inclusive but an exclusive concept” (150). Thus, in figuring out how male porn stars stand in regard to the question of citizenship, we must ask who determines “moral worth,” who distinguishes the less from the more deserving, and how people have come to agree on the “common practices” of citizenship. Many critics writing about citizenship, including McDowell, Michael Warner, Lauren Berlant, Russ Castronovo, Robyn Wiegman, Michael Moon, and Cathy Davidson (to name only a few) have located the nexus of “moral worth” in the body. In particular, the ability to make the body abstract, invisible, and non-identifiable has been the most desirable quality for a citizen to possess. White men seem ideally situated for such acts of “decorporealization,” and the white male body has been installed as the norm for citizenship. Conversely, women, people of color, and the ill and disabled, groups that are frequently defined by their very embodiment, find themselves more often subject to regulation. If the white male body is the standard, however, for “moral worth,” the white male porn star would seem to disrupt such calculations. Clearly, the profession demands that these men put their bodies very much in evidence, and the most famous porn stars, like John C. Holmes and Ron Jeremy, derive much of their popularity from their bodily excess. Jeremy’s struggle for “legitimacy,” and the tenuous position of men in the porn industry in general, demonstrate that even white males, when they cannot or will not aspire to abstraction and invisibility, will lose the privileges of citizenship. The right’s attack on pornography can thus be seen as yet another attempt to regulate and restrict citizenship, an effort that forces Jeremy and the industry that made him famous struggle for strategies of invisibility that will permit some mainstream acceptance. In American Anatomies, Robyn Wiegman points out that the idea of democratic citizenship rested on a distinct sense of the abstract and non-particular. The more “particular” an individual was, however, the less likely s/he could pass into the realm of citizen. “For those trapped by the discipline of the particular (women, slaves, the poor),” Wiegman writes, “the unmarked and universalized particularity of the white masculine prohibited their entrance into the abstraction of personhood that democratic equality supposedly entailed” (49). The norm of the “white masculine” caused others to signify “an incontrovertible difference” (49), so people who were visibly different (or perceived as visibly different) could be tyrannized over and regulated to ensure the purity of the norm. Like Wiegman, Lauren Berlant has written extensively about the ways in which the nation recognizes only one “official” body: “The white, male body is the relay to legitimation, but even more than that, the power to suppress that body, to cover its tracks and its traces, is the sign of real authority, according to constitutional fashion” (113). Berlant notes that “problem citizens”—most notably women of color—struggle with the problem of “surplus embodiment.” They cannot easily suppress their bodies, so they are subjected to the regulatory power of a law that defines them and consequently opens their bodies up to violation. To escape their “surplus embodiment,” those who can seek abstraction and invisibility because “sometimes a person doesn’t want to seek the dignity of an always-already-violated body, and wants to cast hers off, either for nothingness, or in a trade for some other, better model” (114). The question of “surplus embodiment” certainly has resonance for male porn stars. Peter Lehman has argued that hardcore pornography relies on images of large penises as signifiers of strength and virility. “The genre cannot tolerate a small, unerect penis,” Lehman asserts, “because the sight of the organ must convey the symbolic weight of the phallus” (175). The “power” of male porn stars derives from their visibility, from “meat shots” and “money shots.” Far from being abstract, decorporealized “persons,” male porn stars are fully embodied. In fact, the more “surplus embodiment” they possess, the more famous they become. Yet the very display that makes white male porn stars famous also seemingly disqualifies them from the “legitimacy” afforded the white male body. In the industry itself, male stars are losing authority to the “box-cover girls” who sell the product. One’s “surplus embodiment” might be a necessity for working in the industry, but, as Susan Faludi notes, “by choosing an erection as the proof of male utility, the male performer has hung his usefulness, as porn actor Jonathan Morgan observed, on ‘the one muscle on our body we can’t flex’” (547). When that muscle doesn’t work, a male porn star doesn’t become an abstraction—he becomes “other,” a joke, swept aside and deemed useless. Documentary filmmaker Scott J. Gill recognizes the tenuousness of the “citizenship” of male porn stars in his treatment of Ron Jeremy, “America’s most famous porn star.” The film, Porn Star: The Legend of Ron Jeremy (2001), opens with a clear acknowledgment of Jeremy’s body, as one voiceover explains how his nickname, “the Hedgehog,” derives from the fact that Jeremy is “small, fat, and very hairy.” Then, Gill intercuts the comments of various Jeremy fans: “An idol to an entire generation,” one young man opines; “One of the greatest men this country has ever seen,” suggests another. This opening scene concludes with an image of Jeremy, smirking and dressed in a warm-up suit with a large dollar sign necklace, standing in front of an American flag (an image repeated at the end of the film). This opening few minutes posit the Hedgehog as super-citizen, embraced as few Americans are. “Everyone wants to be Ron Jeremy,” another young fan proclaims. “They want his life.” Gill also juxtaposes “constitutional” forms of legitimacy that seemingly celebrate Jeremy’s bodily excess with the resultant discrimination that body actually engenders. In one clip, Jeremy exposes himself to comedian Rodney Dangerfield, who then sardonically comments, “All men are created equal—what bullshit!” Later, Gill employs a clip of a film in which Jeremy is dressed like Ben Franklin while in a voiceover porn director/historian Bill Margold notes that the Freeman decision “gave a birth certificate to a bastard industry—it legitimized us.” The juxtaposition thus posits Jeremy as a “founding father” of sorts, the most recognizable participant in an industry now going mainstream. Gill, however, emphasizes the double-edged nature of Jeremy’s fame and the price of his display. Immediately after the plaudits of the opening sequence, Gill includes clips from various Jeremy talk show appearances in which he is denounced as “scum” and told “You should go to jail just for all the things that you’ve helped make worse in this country” and “You should be shot.” Gill also shows a clearly dazed Jeremy in close-up confessing, “I hate myself. I want to find a knife and slit my wrists.” Though Jeremy does not seem serious, this comment comes into better focus as the film unfolds. Jeremy’s efforts to go “legit,” to break into mainstream film and leave his porn life behind, keep going off the tracks. In the meantime, Jeremy must fulfill his obligations to his current profession, including getting a monthly HIV test. “There’ll be one good thing about eventually getting out of the porn business,” he confesses as Gill shows scenes of a clearly nervous Jeremy awaiting results in a clinic waiting room, “to be able to stop taking these things every fucking month.” Gill shows that the life so many others would love to have requires an abuse of the body that fans never see. Jeremy is seeking to cast off that life, “either for nothingness, or in a trade for some other, better model.” Behind this “legend” is unseen pain and longing. Gill emphasizes the dichotomy between Jeremy (illegitimate) and “citizens” in his own designations. Adam Rifkin, director of Detroit Rock City, in which Jeremy has a small part, and Troy Duffy, another Jeremy pal, are referred to as “mainstream film directors.” When Jeremy returns to his home in Queens to visit his father, Arnold Hyatt is designated “physicist.” In fact, Jeremy’s father forbids his son from using the family name in his porn career. “I don’t want any confusion between myself and his line of work,” Hyatt confesses, “because I’m retired.” Denied his patronym, Jeremy is truly “illegitimate.” Despite his father’s understanding and support, Jeremy is on his own in the business he has chosen. Jeremy’s reputation also gets in the way of his mainstream dreams. “Sometimes all this fame can hurt you,” Jeremy himself notes. Rifkin admits that “People recognize Ron as a porn actor and immediately will ask me to remove him from the final cut.” Duffy concurs that Jeremy’s porn career has made him a pariah for some mainstream producers: “Stigma attached to him, and that’s all anybody’s ever gonna see.” Jeremy’s visibility, the “stigma” that people have “seen,” namely, his large penis and fat, hairy body, denies him the abstract personhood he needs to go “legitimate.” Thus, whether through the concerted efforts of the Justice Department or the informal, personal angst of a producer fearing a backlash against a film, Jeremy, as a representative of an immoral industry, finds himself subject to regulation. Indeed, as his “legitimate” filmography indicates, Jeremy has been cut out of more than half the films he has appeared in. The issue of “visibility” as the basis for regulation of hardcore pornography has its clearest articulation in Potter Stewart’s famous proclamation “I know it when I see it.” But as Bob Woodward and Scott Armstrong report in The Brethren, Stewart was not the only Justice who used visibility as a standard. Byron White’s personal definition was “no erect penises, no intercourse, no oral or anal sodomy” (193). William Brennan, too, had what his clerks called “the limp dick standard” (194). Erection, what Lehman has identified as the conveyance of the phallus, now became the point of departure for regulation, transferring, once again, the phallus to the “law.” When such governmental regulation failed First Amendment ratification, other forms of societal regulation kicked in. The porn industry has accommodated itself to this regulation, as Faludi observes, in its emphasis on “soft” versions of product for distribution to “legitimate” outlets like cable and hotels. “The version recut for TV would have to be entirely ‘soft,’” Faludi notes, “which meant, among other things, no erect penises and no semen” (547). The work of competent “woodsmen” like Jeremy now had to be made invisible to pass muster. Thus, even the penis could be conveyed to the viewer, a “fantasy penis,” as Katherine Frank has called it, that can be made to correlate to that viewer’s “fantasized identity” of himself (133-4). At the beginning of Porn Star, during the various homages paid to Jeremy, one fan draws a curious comparison: “There’s Elvis, and then there’s Ron.” Elvis’s early career had certainly been plagued by criticism related to his bodily excess. Musicologist Robert Fink has recently compared Presley’s July 2, 1956, recording of “Hound Dog” to music for strip tease, suggesting that Elvis used such subtle variations to challenge the law that was constantly impinging on his performances: “The Gray Lady was sensitive to the presence of quite traditional musical erotics—formal devices that cued the performer and audience to experience their bodies sexually—but not quite hep enough to accept a male performer recycling these musical signifiers of sex back to a female audience” (99). Eventually, though, Elvis stopped rebelling and sought respectability. Writing to President Nixon on December 21, 1970, Presley offered his services to help combat what he perceived to be a growing cultural insurgency. “The drug culture, the hippie elements, the SDS, Black Panthers, etc., do not consider me as their enemy or as they call it, The Establishment,” Presley confided. “I call it America and I love it” (Carroll 266). In short, Elvis wanted to use his icon status to help reinstate law and order, in the process demonstrating his own patriotism, his value and worth as a citizen. At the end of Porn Star, Jeremy, too, craves legitimacy. Whereas Elvis appealed to Nixon, Jeremy concludes by appealing to Steven Spielberg. Elvis received a badge from Nixon designating him as “special assistant” for the Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs. Presumably Jeremy invests his legitimacy in a SAG card. Kenny Dollar, a Jeremy friend, unironically summarizes the final step the Hedgehog must take: “It’s time for Ron to go on and reach his full potential. Let him retire his dick.” That Jeremy must do the latter before having a chance for the former illustrates how “surplus embodiment” and “citizenship” remain inextricably entangled and mutually exclusive. References Berlant, Lauren. “National Brands/National Body: Imitation of Life.” Comparative American Identities: Race, Sex and Nationality in the Modern Text. Ed. Hortense Spillers. New York: Routledge, 1991: 110-140. Carroll, Andrew, ed. Letters of a Nation: A Collection of Extraordinary American Letters. New York: Broadway Books, 1999. Castronovo, Russ and Nelson, Dana D., eds. Materializing Democracy: Toward a Revitalized Cultural Politics. Durham: Duke University Press, 2002. Faludi, Susan. Stiffed: The Betrayal of the American Man. New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc., 1999. Fink, Robert. “Elvis Everywhere: Musicology and Popular Music Studies at the Twilight of the Canon.” Rock Over the Edge: Transformations in Popular Music Culture. Eds. Roger Beebe, Denise Fulbrook, and Ben Saunders. Durham: Duke University Press, 2002: 60-109. Frank, Katherine. G-Strings and Sympathy: Strip Club Regulars and Male Desire. Durham: Duke University Press, 2002. Gill, Scott J., dir. Porn Star: The Legend of Ron Jeremy. New Video Group, 2001. Lehman, Peter. Running Scared: Masculinity and the Representation of the Male Body. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1993. McDowell, Linda. Gender, Identity and Place: Understanding Feminist Geographies. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1999. Moon, Michael and Davidson, Cathy N., eds. Subjects and Citizens: From Oroonoko to Anita Hill. Durham: Duke University Press, 1995. Schmitt, Richard B. “U. S. Plans to Escalate Porn Fight.” The Los Angeles Times 14 February 2004. A1. Wiegman, Robyn. American Anatomies: Theorizing Race and Gender. Durham: Duke University Press, 1995. Woodward, Bob and Armstrong, Scott. The Brethren: Inside the Supreme Court. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1979. MLA Style Russell, David. "The Tumescent Citizen: The Legend of Ron Jeremy." M/C Journal 7.4 (2004). 10 October 2004 <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0410/01_citizen.php>. APA Style Russell, D. (2004 Oct 11). The Tumescent Citizen: The Legend of Ron Jeremy, M/C Journal, 7(4). Retrieved Oct 10 2004 from <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0410/01_citizen.php>

IntroductionCan a person’s tastes in art, music, literature, cinema, sport, humour or other fields be changed through online activity? This article explores that question by comparing recent research findings in the areas of neuroplasticity and flow. Neuroplasticity, also known as brain plasticity, is the idea that the human brain can change its structure and function through thought and activity, even into old age (Doidge). The second concept—flow—comes from the field of psychology, and refers to a deeply satisfying state of focused attention that people sometimes experience while engaging in an enjoyable activity such as browsing the Web (Csikszentmihalyi, Flow). Research into the experiences of web users, conducted from these two different perspectives, reveal interesting connections to the acquisition of taste and opportunities for further investigation. Neuroplasticity The term neuroplasticity comes from the words neuron and plastic. Neurons are the nerve cells in our brains and nervous systems. Plastic, in this context, means flexibility or malleability. Neuroplasticity has replaced the formerly-held belief that the brain is a physiologically static organ, hard-wired like a machine (Kolb, Gibb and Robinson). For much of the last century, scientists believed that adult brains, unlike those of children, could not produce new neurons or build new pathways or connections between neurons. According to this view, any brain function that was lost through damage was irretrievable. Today, research into neuroplasticity has proven that this is not the case. In the late 1960s and 1970s pioneering scientists such as Paul Bach-y-Rita demonstrated that brains change their structure with different activities they perform (Kercel). When certain parts fail, other parts can sometimes take over. Subsequent research by many scientists has validated this once-controversial idea, leading to practical benefits such as the restoration of limb function in stroke victims, and improved cognition and perception in people with learning disabilities (Nowak et al.). Merzenich, for example, has demonstrated how a brain’s processing areas, called brain maps, change in response to what people do over the course of their lives. Different brain maps exist for different activities and functions, including sensory perception, motor skills and higher mental activities. Brain maps are governed by competition for mental resources and the principle of “use it or lose it.” If a person stops exercising particular mental skills, such as speaking Spanish or playing piano, then the brain map space for those skills is handed over to skills that they practise instead. Brain maps are also governed by a principle that is summarised by the expression, “neurons that fire together wire together” (Doidge 63). Neurons in brain maps develop stronger connections to each other when they are activated at the same moment in time. Consequently people are able to form new maps by developing new neural connections. Acquiring Tastes Doidge has illustrated the role that neuroplasticity plays in acquiring new tastes by explaining how habitual viewing of online pornography can shape sexual tastes (102). In the mid- to late-1990s, Doidge (a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst) treated several men who had lost interest in their sexual partners as a consequence of their addiction to online pornography. Doidge explains their change of sexual taste in terms of neuroplasticity, noting that “pornography, delivered by high-speed Internet connections, satisfies every one of the prerequisites for neuroplastic change” (102). The sexual excitement of viewing pornography releases a chemical neurotransmitter named dopamine that activates the brain’s pleasure centres. Since “neurons that fire together wire together”, the repeated viewing of pornography effectively wires the pornographic images into the pleasure centres of the brain with the focused attention required for neuroplastic change. In other words, habitual viewers of pornography develop new brain maps based on the photos and videos they see. And since the brain operates on a “use it or lose it” principle, they long to keep those new maps activated. Consequently, pornography has an addictive power. Like all addicts, the men who Doidge treated developed a tolerance to the photos and videos they observed and sought out progressively higher levels of stimulation for satisfaction. Doidge explains the result: The content of what they found exciting changed as the Web sites introduced themes and scripts that altered their brains without their awareness. Because plasticity is competitive, the brain maps for new, exciting images increased at the expense of what had previously attracted them—the reason, I believe, they began to find their girlfriends less of a turn-on. (109) If the habitual viewing of online pornography can change sexual tastes, what other tastes can be changed through online activity? Art? Music? Literature? Cinema? Sport? Humour? One avenue for investigating this question is to consider existing research into the flow experiences of web users. The term flow refers to a deeply satisfying state of focused attention that was first identified by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (Beyond Boredom) in his studies of optimal experiences. According to Csikszentmihalyi, people in flow “are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter; the experience itself is so enjoyable that people will do it even at great cost, for the sheer sake of doing it” (Flow 4). Flow experiences are characterised by some common elements, which include a balance between the challenges of an activity and the skills required to meet those challenges; clear goals and feedback; concentration on the task at hand; a sense of control; a merging of action and awareness; a loss of self-consciousness; a distorted sense of time; and the autotelic experience. The term autotelic refers to an activity that is done, not with the expectation of some future benefit, but simply because the doing itself is the reward. Whenever people reflect on their flow experiences, they mention some, and often all, of these characteristics. Support for Csikszentmihalyi’s characterisation of flow can be found in studies of many diverse activities, such as playing computer games (Chen) and participating in sport (Jackson), to mention just two examples. The activities that people engage in to experience flow vary enormously, but they describe how it feels in almost identical terms. Pace has developed a grounded theory of the flow experiences of web users engaged in content-seeking activities including directed searching and exploratory browsing. The term grounded in this instance refers to the fact that the theory was developed using the Grounded Theory research method, and its explanations are grounded in the study’s data rather than deduced from research literature (Charmaz). A review of that theory reveals many similarities between the flow experiences of web users engaged in content-seeking activities and the experiences of habitual viewers of online pornography described by Doidge. The following sections will consider several of those similarities. Focused Attention Focused attention is essential for long-term neuroplastic change. Goleman notes that “when practice occurs while we are focusing elsewhere, the brain does not rewire the relevant circuitry for that particular routine” (164). In a series of brain mapping experiments with monkeys, Merzenich discovered that “lasting changes occurred only when his monkeys paid close attention” (Doidge 68). When the animals performed tasks without paying close attention, their brain maps changed, but the changes did not last. Focused attention also plays a central role in the flow experiences of web users. The higher-than-average challenges associated with flow activities require a complete focusing of attention on the task at hand, or as Csikszentmihalyi puts it, “a centering of attention on a limited stimulus field” (Beyond Boredom 40). An important by-product of this fact is that flow leaves no room in one’s consciousness for irrelevant thoughts, worries or distractions (Csikszentmihalyi, Flow 58). People who experience flow frequently report that, while it lasts, they are able to forget about the unpleasant aspects of life. Consider the following comment from a 42-year-old male’s recollection of experiencing flow while using the Web: “It’s a total concentration experience. You’re so interested in doing what it is you’re doing that nothing’s interrupting you.” In everyday life, one’s concentration is rarely so intense that all preoccupations disappear from consciousness, but that is precisely what happens in a flow experience. All of the troubling thoughts that normally occupy the mind are temporarily suspended while the pressing demands of the flow activity consume one’s attention. Let’s now consider a second similarity between the flow experiences of web users and the taste-changing experiences of habitual viewers of online pornography. Enjoyment The pleasure experienced by the pornography addicts treated by Doidge played an important role in the alteration of their brain maps and sexual tastes. Since “neurons that fire together wire together”, the repeated viewing of pornographic photos and videos wired those images into the pleasure centres of their brains with the focused attention required for neuroplastic change. Web users in flow also experience enjoyment, but possibly a different kind of enjoyment to the pleasure described by Doidge. Seligman and Csikszentmihalyi make the following distinction between pleasure and enjoyment: Pleasure is the good feeling that comes from satisfying homeostatic needs such as hunger, sex, and bodily comfort. Enjoyment, on the other hand, refers to the good feelings people experience when they break through the limits of homeostasis—when they do something that stretches them beyond what they were—in an athletic event, an artistic performance, a good deed, a stimulating conversation. (12) The enjoyment experienced by people in flow is sometimes described as “the autotelic experience.” According to Csikszentmihalyi, an autotelic experience is “a self-contained activity, one that is done not with the expectation of some future benefit, but simply because the doing itself is the reward” (Flow 67). Because autotelic experiences are so satisfying, they create a strong desire to repeat the activity that produced the experience. Consider the following comment from a web user about the reasons he enjoys online content-seeking activities that have led to flow: It’s like going to somewhere new. You’re always learning something. You’re always finding something. And you don’t know what it is you’re going to find. There’s so much out there that you’ll go there one day and then you’ll come back, and you’ll actually end up on a different path and finding something different. So it’s investigation of the unknown really. This comment, like many web users’ recollections of their flow experiences, points to a relationship between enjoyment and discovery. This connection is also evident in flow experiences that occur during other kinds of activities. For example, Csikszentmihalyi suggests that “the reason we enjoy a particular activity is not because such pleasure has been previously programmed in our nervous system, but because of something discovered as a result of interaction” (The Evolving Self 189). He illustrates this point with the example of a person who is at first indifferent to or bored by a particular activity, such as listening to classical music. When opportunities for action in the context of the activity become clearer, or when the individual’s skills improve, the activity may start to be interesting and finally gratifying. For example, if a person begins to understand the design underlying a symphony he or she might begin to enjoy the act of listening. This example hints at how discovery, enjoyment and other rewards of flow may engender change in a person’s taste. Let’s now consider a third similarity between the two areas of research. Compulsive Behaviour One consequence of flow experiences being so enjoyable is that they create a strong desire to repeat whatever helped to make them happen. If a person experiences flow while browsing online for new music, for example, he or she will probably want to repeat that activity to enjoy the experience again. Consider the following comment from a 28-year-old female web user who recalled experiencing flow intermittently over a period of three days: “I did go to bed—really late. And then as soon as I got up in the morning I was zoom—straight back on there […] I guess it’s a bit like a gambling addiction.” This study informant’s use of the term addiction highlights another similarity between the flow experiences of web users and habitual viewing of online pornography. Flow experiences can, in a very small percentage of cases, encourage compulsive behaviour and possibly addiction. A study by Khang, Kim and Kim found that “experiences of the flow state significantly influenced media addiction” across three media forms: the Internet, mobile phones and video games (2423). Examples of problems associated with excessive Internet use include sleep deprivation, poor eating and exercise habits, conflict with family members, and neglect of academic, interpersonal, financial and, occupational responsibilities (Douglas et al). Some heavy Internet users report feelings of moodiness and anxiety while they are offline, along with an intense desire to log in. Doidge states that “the addictiveness of Internet pornography is not a metaphor” (106), but many researchers are reluctant to apply the term addiction to heavy Internet use. Internet addiction first came to the attention of the research community in the mid-1990s when Young conceptualised it as an impulse-control disorder and proposed a set of diagnostic criteria based on the diagnostic criteria for pathological gambling in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. However, after more than fifteen years of research on this subject, there is still no agreement on a definition or diagnostic criteria for Internet addiction. Some researchers argue that Internet addiction is not a true addiction and may be no more than a symptom of other existing disorders such as anxiety or depression (Weinstein and Lejoyeux). Regardless of this controversy, the potential for compulsive behaviour is another clear similarity between the flow experiences of web users and the neuroplastic change caused by habitual viewing of online pornography. One more similarity will be considered. Sidetracks In Pace’s study of the flow experiences of web users, informants reported engaging in two general types of content-seeking behaviour: (1) a directed searching mode in which one is motivated to find a particular piece of content such as the answer to a question or a specific music video; and (2) an exploratory browsing mode that is characterised by diffuse motives such as passing time or seeking stimulation. Directed searching and exploratory browsing are not dichotomous forms of navigation behaviour. On the contrary, they are closely interrelated. Web users move back and forth between the two modes, often many times within the same session. Just as web users can change from one navigation mode to another, they can also get sidetracked from one topic to another. For instance, it is reportedly quite common for a web user engaged in a content-seeking activity to decide to pursue a different goal because his or her curiosity is aroused by interesting content or links that are not directly relevant to the task at hand. Consider the following comment from a 21-year-old female web user whose desire to find contact details for a local Tai Chi group disappeared when a link to the Sportsgirl web site attracted her attention: I think I typed in “sports” […] I was actually looking for a place to do Tai Chi and that sort of thing. So I was looking for a sport. And it ended up coming up with the Sportsgirl web site. And I ended up looking at clothes all afternoon. So that was kind of cool. Sidetracks are a common feature of the flow experiences of web users. They are also a prominent feature of the description that Doidge provided of the pornography addicts’ neuroplastic change (109). The content of what the men found exciting changed as the web sites they viewed introduced “themes and scripts” or sidetracks that altered their brain maps. “Without being fully aware of what they were looking for, they scanned hundreds of images and scenarios until they hit upon an image or sexual script that touched some buried theme that really excited them”, Doidge notes (110). Conclusion Can a person’s tastes in art, music, literature, cinema, sport, humour or some other field be changed through online activity, just as sexual tastes can? This article alone cannot conclusively answer that question, but significant similarities between the flow experiences of web users and the neuroplastic change experienced by habitual viewers of online pornography suggest that flow theory could be a fruitful line of investigation. Can the flow experiences of web users lead to changes in taste, just as the neuroplastic change caused by habitual viewing of online pornography can lead to changes in sexual taste? What is the relationship between flow and neuroplastic change? Is the Internet the most appropriate environment for exploring these questions about taste, or do offline flow activities provide insights that have been neglected? These are some of the unanswered questions arising from this discussion that require further investigation. Advances in the field of neuroplasticity have been described as some of “the most extraordinary discoveries of the twentieth century” (Doidge xv). These advances provide an opportunity to revisit related theories and to enhance our understanding of phenomena such as flow and taste. References Charmaz, Kathy. Constructing Grounded Theory: A Practical Guide Through Qualitative Analysis. Thousand Oaks, California: Sage Publications, 2006. Chen, Jenova. “Flow in Games (and Everything Else).” Communications of the ACM 50.4 (2007): 31–34. Csikszentmihalyi, Mihaly. Beyond Boredom and Anxiety: The Experience of Play in Work and Games. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1975. Csikszentmihalyi, Mihaly. The Evolving Self: A Psychology for the Third Millennium. New York: HarperPerennial, 1993. Csikszentmihalyi, Mihaly. Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience. New York: HarperPerennial, 1990. Doidge, Norman. The Brain That Changes Itself: Stories of Personal Triumph from the Frontiers of Brain Science. Melbourne: Scribe Publications, 2010. Douglas, Alecia C., Juline E. Mills, Mamadou Niang, Svetlana Stepchenkova, Sookeun Byun, Celestino Ruffini, Seul Ki Lee, Jihad Loutfi, Jung-Kook Lee, Mikhail Atallah, and Marina Blanton. “Internet Addiction: Meta-Synthesis of Qualitative Research for the Decade 1996-2006.” Computers in Human Behavior 24 (2008): 3027–3044. Goleman, Daniel. Focus: The Hidden Driver of Excellence. New York: HarperCollins, 2013. Jackson, Susan. “Toward a Conceptual Understanding of the Flow Experience in Elite Athletes.” Research Quarterly for Exercise and Sport 67.1 (1996): 76–90. Khang, Hyoungkoo, Jung Kyu Kim, and Yeojin Kim. “Self-Traits and Motivations as Antecedents of Digital Media Flow and Addiction: The Internet, Mobile Phones, and Video Games.” Computers in Human Behavior 29 (2013): 2416–2424. Kercel, Stephen W. “Editorial: The Wide-Ranging Impact of the Work of Paul Bach-y-Rita.” Journal of Integrative Neuroscience 4.4 (2005): 403–406. Kolb, Bryan, Robbin Gibb, and Terry E. Robinson. “Brain Plasticity and Behavior.” Current Directions in Psychological Science 12.1 (2003): 1–5. Merzenich, Michael. Soft-Wired: How the New Science of Brain Plasticity Can Change Your Life. San Francisco: Parnassus Publishing, 2013. Nowak, Dennis A., Kathrin Bösl, Jitka Podubeckà, and James R. Carey. “Noninvasive Brain Stimulation and Motor Recovery After Stroke.” Restorative Neurology and Neuroscience 28 (2010): 531–544. Pace, Steven. “A Grounded Theory of the Flow Experiences of Web Users.” International Journal of Human-Computer Studies 60.3 (2004): 327–363. Seligman, Martin E. P., and Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. “Positive Psychology: An Introduction.” American Psychologist 55.1 (2000): 5–14. Weinstein, Aviv, and Michel Lejoyeux. “Internet Addiction or Excessive Internet Use.” The American Journal of Drug and Alcohol Abuse 36 (2010): 277–283. Young, Kimberly S. Caught in the Net: How to Recognize the Signs of Internet Addiction—And a Winning Strategy for Recovery. New York: John Wiley & Sons, 1998.

The contemporary supermarket is a work of classification and cataloguing as marvellous as any museum. Barcodes are hallmarks by which its computer systems could know, in their own electronic language, every possible product of a certain kind afoot in the nation. It is a rather special institution in this respect -- a huge fund of contemporary synchronic cultural memory, a database and storehouse of collected human tastes to which individuals turn to seek out their own. However, this means that just as Wittgenstein demonstrated the impossibility of a purely private language, there can be no such thing as a purely private taste. Taste is demonstrated by choosing from a range of public items, that is, products. Therefore let's bracket the liberal concept of sovereign personal taste for now and beat a different track: the supermarket is the site of aggregation of multiple discourses by which the individual is sewn into and sews the fabric of collective life. Techniques used to sell food today, such as freebies (like plastic toys), free offers, forms of gambling, and images of healthiness, convenience, celebrity and enhanced relationships, appeal to -- must appeal to for commercial reasons -- shared values. It is inviting to view the supermarket as an emblem of a postmodern condition. The gaggle of images and words that line its aisles defy unity, play fast and loose with reality, create a simulacral space of copied quotes and sight bites that is coterminous with radically decentred selves. It conforms to the Jamesonian topography of a culture that has lost it -- that sense of real placed history that identity used to be tied up with. But my aim in this essay is to critique such a rhetoric of loss. Discourse remains the province of the self-imaginings of social groups in spite of the diversity of images in circulation. And although the media through which group solidarity is transmitted change with technological developments, the fact of such transmission does not. Hence, by looking at the imagery used on food packets, I will analyse the way that one rhetorical strategy used to sell the food we find on supermarket shelves -- nationalism -- is part of a longstanding cultural trajectory by which citizens of a nation imagine their relationship with their land. This, however, involves the equation of 'the nation' with the ethnic imagery of the group that dominates its political apparatus and territory, a process of circumscription that I shall ultimately suggest has political ramifications, especially in the context of nations like Australia which were formed by largely European settler colonisation of the land. Nationalism, then, is a strand of marketing rhetoric used most often, but not exclusively, for the promotion of products in the country of their origin. As such it grafts a tradition of art commemorating place and ethnic identity into the seemingly unlikely genre of the product label. Indeed, for Benedict Anderson the sociopolitical sentiment of nationalism requires forums and images through which to articulate itself, or more accurately, to imaginatively create its auratic object of adoration -- as nationalism is itself innovative (Anderson 15). It also depends upon technologies that can produce a sense of simultaneity between dispersed people who will never meet each other. The distribution of the packaged 'gifts' of a land to 'its people' provides one such opportunity for the transmission of sacralised images of land and the solidarity of its inhabitants. So the genre of the label that comes with a specific distribution and selling system provides the technical medium, and the land, its produce, its people and their relationships in ecosocial community, form the imagery. A limit case example of pride in the gifts of the land can be found on the label of New Zealand's Steinlager: "New Zealand's Finest ... World's Best Lager ... Brewed with the finest New Zealand Hops, Yeast, Barley and Pure Water ... Since 1854". It embodies a series of associations found in other examples: the products of the land are associated with firstly, high quality, and secondly, natural purity. New Zealand seems to be repeated with two slightly different senses. In its juxtaposition with "the world", the two places centre on the finished product of lager, which is presented as a literally world-beating national product. The last line of the label reads "Brewed and Bottled by New Zealand Breweries Limited", the company name both emphasising the agency of New Zealand people in processing ingredients taken from their land's soil, and the legally New Zealandian status of their enterprise. The second sense implies the physical basis for all this: the giftedness of the land which subtends an economy and a culture. "Since 1854" brings these components together on the axis of continuity, making the origination of national production temporal as well as spatial. In other words this benign relationship of production becomes part of national heritage. A certain double sense is in play. Land is both a nation comprising citizens and physical resource; the word that perfectly fuses the sense of the former's political proprietary relationship with the latter into a working unity. Accordingly many packets transfigure the legal requirement to mention the place of production into an attention-grabbing declaration of country of origin whilst also referring to the physical land. The latter may be parsed into two general categories: imagery of animals, plants, landscapes, the elements, etc, and rustic images of human management of the land. So Bulla ice cream advertises its Australianness to a pastoral backdrop; Saxa salt, which has been "Australia's own ... Since 1911", is being hauled by a hat-wearing Aussie man and loyal horse; Bundaberg caster sugar is both "pure Australian" and "Australian made" thanks to the blessing of the (Australian) sun. And other products, such as Australian Natural Foods Non Dairy Soy Mango Smoothie and Pureland Organic Tofu make links between nation and nature through 'land-based' company names similarly buttressed by images of Australian agricultural landscape and the Australian made hallmark respectively. The three conceptual categories often found in correlation with the concrete particulars of 'the land' -- healthiness, purity and naturalness -- are well represented in the packets analysed here. A series of metonymic implications is set up between the terms. They are all potential qualities of the land that are realised in the products it yields. Pureland and Australian Natural Foods juxtapose nation and healthiness closely and the pastoral visions of Bürgen and Dairy Vale have the approval of the National Heart Foundation. Bundaberg and Pureland make the most direct appeals to purity, but concepts such as Bulla's "Australian made real dairy" and Devondale's "choice grade" and "premium Australian" also convey a certain sense of uncorrupted pedigree in their products' provenance. Most products seem to evoke naturalness pictorially, with green rolling landscapes and cows feeding on the verdure featuring particularly highly. Thus at this point a critique of capitalist industrial culture is possible. The missing links are the contemporary factory and office: the places of the processing and assembly of the product physically and discursively; the places where the fruits of the land meet their packaging and are primed for the marketplace. The gifts of nature become commodities but are inscribed as the gifts of nature still, such that the point of sale obfuscates the point of production: profit. The whole enterprise seems to be based on a principle of distantiation. Because of urbanisation, the vast majority of people live away from farm land, and because most food is not consumed by the local communities that produce it, but is produced for larger markets, it is packed and written upon for transport to strangers who will buy it and perhaps also an idealisation of the land. Yet they aren't strangers. This mediation of group solidarity by food-as-commodity does not tear social bonds apart, it forms them. It forms ecosocial community just as it provides a projection of one. And the very invocation of group loyalty as the reason for buying means we should question, as John Frow has done, whether the commodity is always simply a token of abstraction in conceptual opposition to 'the gift' (Frow, "Gift and Commodity"). It is not simply the case that capitalists dupe consumers into thinking of commodities in gift-like terms. Indeed, the discourses of the land we find on supermarket shelves go back a long way in Western culture. As Raymond Williams says: "in English, 'country' is both a nation and a part of a 'land'; 'the country' can be the whole society or its rural area. In the long history of human settlements, this connection between the land from which directly or indirectly we all get our living and the achievements of human society has been deeply known" (1). The majority of the packets analysed extend the pastoral tradition of European art, a tradition which determines the "innate bounty" (33) of the land as the province of benign, 'total' social relations as reflected in the "timeless rhythm" of the authentic agrarian life (10). But the pastoral tradition is itself a media technical one. Williams points out that "a working country is hardly ever a landscape. The very idea of landscape implies separation and observation" (120). The same is true of pastoral in its nationalistic guise. It is transmitted by books, paintings and packets, is predicated on such a 'separation and observation'. The idealisation of the common land that subtends 'us' may be an attempt to bridge that distance, yet it is, ironically, transmitted through inscribed objects that create bonds between spatially and temporally dispersed people. It achieves what Anderson calls "unisonance", "a special kind of contemporaneous community which language alone suggests -- above all in the form of poetry and songs" (132). So, if the supermarket turns inner desire outward to the realm of public items that provides its possibilities, nationalistic desire moves in the same way, both inside and outside the supermarket context. There is no purely internal or purely external nation, just as there is no private language. Rather cultural memory, whether transmitted by a food packet or a poem is a thread transmitted through selves, language, technological milieux, and groups of people. Thus as Thongchai Winichakul succinctly states, "a nation is not a given reality. Rather it is the effect of imagining about it" (14). "We can know about it as long as we employ certain technologies to inscribe the possible sphere. In turn, such technologies create the knowledge of it, create a fact of it, and the entity comes into existence." (15). The contemporary food packet is one such media technology as certainly as a book or a song, and all media inscriptions of the possible sphere of 'the land' are lived ecosocial experience of the land. They make the land a unity by fusing its first physical sense with its second sociopolitical one. Invocation of the land as a prior given that subtends and provides the continuity of a sociopolitical group that has power over its resources, nests the historical contingency of that power relationship into a secure vision of the provenance of nation with the self-origination of 'its' land. That natural element, free, pure and healthy, is the one in which the group's ownership rights are rooted and legitimated. However, in fact, any nation is itself an historical innovation, an inherently unstable ideological product of strategy, technique, rhetorical and material. Nation-states are not naturally correlative with the land, nor are the ethnic groups that politically dominate the nation. They arise where other socio-economic political organisations existed before; they emerge. In The City and the Country Williams's main concern was to point out an alternative class-based history of the real and largely exploitative management of the land, a history that is actively occluded by idealised renderings of the countryside. Here in a parallel way but without room for explication, I want to suggest an alternative history of the management of the land that is indissociable from the emergence of the modern Australian nation -- a race-based history. Thus, here's the rub: the totems of pastoral that are equated with Australianness in the packets I have referred to, are European. The 'food packet' pastoral idealises group totems such as to transform historically contingent relationships of certain ethnic groups with the land into naturalised ones. The cows of Bulla and Devondale, the pastures of Dairy Vale, Bürgen's wheat, the agricultural infrastructure, the men imaged and their modes of management of the land, are European in lineage, and so is most of the food they sacralise as 'Australian'. These things are not natural to the land but were introduced, as was a related political and economic infrastructure that created 'Australia'. And there is a whole history to this appropriation of the land that is not active in the rhetorical force field of the European Australian pastoral, just as the living cultural memories of Aboriginal peoples disposed by the creation of the Australian nation-state are not. ... In "Australia Day at the Aboriginal Tent Embassy", Felicia Fletcher and John Leonard mention how representatives of Aboriginal countries in Australia assembled at Parliament House eat food to sustain themselves in their bid to right this dispossession: "vegetables are cooked in the coals, bread is toasted over the fire, endless cups of tea are poured, pots of three dozen eggs are boiled again and again to keep up the strengths and spirits of the people" (16). However, they add, quoting the group rather than a specific individual: "'It's nice, but at home we'd have a nice bit of kangaroo tail in the fire -- you've got to know how to do it properly -- and damper'": a different memory of and relationship with 'the land' (in both its senses). To conclude, the memories of the land create it at the time of commemoration. How we commemorate it is a present-day matter of great communal and political significance. Plates 1 Ducks Nuts 7 Bürgen High-Bake Heritage White bread 2 Steinlager Beer 8 Devondale Extra Soft margarine 3 Bulla Real Dairy Ice Cream 9 Bundaberg Caster Sugar 4 Saxa Table Salt 10 Dairy Vale Skim Milk 5 Pureland Organic Tofu 11 Devondale Cheese 6 So Natural Mango Smoothie 12 Edgell References Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso, 1983. Fletcher, Felicia, and John Leonard. "Australia Day at the Aboriginal Tent Embassy." Meanjin 58.1 (1999): 10-17. Frow, John. "Gift and Commodity." Time and Commodity Culture: Essays in Cultural Theory and Postmodernity. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1997. ---. "Toute la Mémoire du Monde: Repetition and Forgetting." Time and Commodity Culture: Essays in Cultural Theory and Postmodernity. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1997. Williams, Raymond. The Country and the City. London: Chatto & Windus, 1973. Winichakul, Thongchai. Siam Mapped: A History of the Geo-Body of a Nation. Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 1994. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Guy Redden. "Packaging the Gifts of Nation." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.7 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/gifts.php>. Chicago style: Guy Redden, "Packaging the Gifts of Nation," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 7 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/gifts.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Guy Redden. (1999) Packaging the gifts of nation. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(7). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/gifts.php> ([your date of access]).

According to media conglomerate CNN, John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s peace crusade began in 1971. CNN’s on-line news group Showbiz on June 22, 1997 frames John and Yoko’s campaign for peace: “Former Beatle John Lennon was honoured posthumously Friday for his contributions to world peace at a star-studded ceremony in London for the 22nd Silver Clef awards. Lennon’s song “Imagine” has been a leading anthem for the peace movement”. This is a rather limited selection that overlooks a number of earlier (and more radical) possibilities in the Lennon-Ono musical arsenal. A 1969 article in Newsweek entitled “The Peace Anthem” records the phenomenal success of “Give Peace a Chance” in mobilizing the protesting masses against the war in Vietnam. Newsweek relates how “Chance” became the chant for anti-war protestors in Washington on November 15, 1969. On that day, 250,000 marchers demonstrated at the American nation’s capitol for a Moratorium to stop the fighting in Vietnam. Led by folk singer Pete Seeger, the crowd was swept up in the endless repetition of the Lennon dictum, “All we are saying is give peace a chance.” When Lennon tuned into the signals from Washington, he dubbed it one of the “biggest moments of my life” (Wiener 97). Dodging the immigration authorities that would not let John and Yoko physically into the United States, John and Yoko’s anti-war signals had been transmitted over the border from the “Bed-in” in Montreal where the song originated, to rally the masses marching on the mall in Washington. The story concluded: “The peace movement had found an anthem” (Newsweek 102). “Give Peace a Chance”—and the Vietnam War against which it raised its voice—have been deleted from CNN’s selective memory. Its brand of political dissent and anti-war activism does not fit the rubric of a 90’s Showbiz column. Yet, this is how the avant-garde performance artist and the hippie rock and roller conceived their peacemaking efforts—as the invasion and intervention of “showbiz” and media hype into the space of mass politics. In their fight for peace, the newly wed John and Yoko staged a series of art and media events in the form of interviews, songs, ads, concerts, demonstrations and happenings. Many of these media-savvy events took place in Canada in 1969. For example, John and Yoko’s The Plastic Ono Band played Varsity Stadium in Toronto in September at the concert known as “Live Peace” which included performances of “Give Peace a Chance” and Yoko’s intense lament “John, John (Let’s Hope for Peace).” With these events, Yoko’s avant-garde strategies of Fluxus and Conceptual art combined forces with John’s energies of rock and roll rebellion to forge a program of media activism and political dissent. Biographer Jon Wiener recalls that John and Yoko’s anti-war campaign represented a new chapter in New Left politics and its relation to mass media. Rather than reject newspapers and TV as “exclusively instruments of corporate domination,” John and Yoko sought “to work within the mass media, to use them, briefly and sporadically, against the system in which they functioned” (89). Umberto Eco pointed to this in his 1967 essay “Towards a Semiological Guerrilla Warfare,” suggesting that “the universe of Technological Communication” (i.e., mass media) be patrolled by “groups of communications guerrillas” who would engage in “future communications guerrilla warfare” to restore a critical dimension involving “the constant correction of perspectives, the checking of codes, and the ever renewed interpretation of mass messages” (143-144). Eco’s formulation provides a possible frame of reference for John and Yoko’s media war and their series of events countering, checking and, to quote Yoko, “criticizing the establishment” and its pro-war propaganda (Giulano 71). The 1969 “Bed-Ins” were media events that used the publicity around John and Yoko’s honeymoon as a lure for the press to report on their anti-war campaign. The first took place in Amsterdam in late March and John and Yoko staged a second honeymoon in Montreal in late May. As non-stop salespeople for their peace product, John and Yoko gave ten hours of press interviews every day invoking the media maxim that repetition induces belief. Blurring art and life, the “Bed-Ins” illustrate the strategies of happenings and Fluxus performance at the heart of Yoko’s aesthetic. At the Amsterdam press conference, Yoko framed their work as an avant-garde performance piece electrified by mass communications media. “Everything we do is a happening. All of our events are directly connected with society. We would like to communicate with the world. This event is called the ““Bed Peace”, and it’s not p-i-e-c-e, it’s p-e-a-c-e. Let’s just stay in bed and grow hair instead of being violent” (Giulano 46). The word plays of “Bed Peace” and “Hair Peace” pasted above their nuptial bed appealed to both Yoko and John’s punster sensibilities, their express aim being to play the world’s clowns for peace and mobilize the subversive power of laughter. The “Bed-Ins” must be situated against the background of the sit-ins on American college campuses at that time of anti-Vietnam war protests. Indeed, John referred to the event as “the bed sit-in” showing that this connection was in his mind. The direct links to the student revolt were further underscored in the telephone exchange between John and Yoko in Montreal and the rioters in People’s Park in Berkeley when Lennon played peace guru, encouraging the demonstrators to avoid violence at all costs (Wiener 92-93). Around the same time, John and Yoko also began their playfully named “Nuts for Peace” campaign by sending acorns to fifty heads of state and asking them to plant them as a symbolic gesture for peace. Another John and Yoko media blitz took over billboards as the sites to wage communications guerrilla warfare. When asked at a press conference to explain the “War is Over Poster Campaign”, the peace PR man stated: “It’s part of our advertising campaign for peace” (Giulano 83). This particular aspect of the media war recalls the international dissemination of the poster “War is Over! If You Want It. Happy Christmas from John and Yoko” in twelve urban centres. Since the mid-sixties, Beatle John had been delivering promotional peace and good will messages on vinyl to his fans at Christmas. In 1969, he and his new partner in art prepared a visual Christmas card using public space to blur the boundaries between art, activism, and advertising. The glaring headline stated the fantasy as if already fulfilled (War is Over!). This was followed by the empowering call to mass action reminding the viewer of what was needed to attain the goal (If You Want It). To kick off the campaign, the international peace politicos gave a “Christmas for Peace” charity concert in London for the United Nations Children’s Fund. When asked about the costs of the poster, Lennon sidestepped the issue, saying he didn’t want to think about it, but joking, “I’ll have to write a song or two to earn me money back” (Giulano 83). The critics attacked this statement as evasive and not willing to own up to how the promoters were direct beneficiaries of the marketing of peace. Rather than focusing on how this campaign would afford free publicity to John and Yoko and promote further demand for their products, Lennon focused on extensive outlays of capital. This recalls another rather hostile exchange at a November 1969 press conference having the look of an all-out media war on the occasion of Lennon returning his M.B.E. Medal of Honour to the Queen. Lennon’s letter read in part: “Your Majesty, I am returning this M.B.E. in protest against Britain’s involvement in the Nigeria-Biafra thing, against our support of America in Vietnam, and against ‘Cold Turkey’ slipping down the charts” (Wiener 106). Numerous critics sought to deflate Lennon’s claim that this was an act of political protest in the fight for peace, characterising it as a mere self-serving publicity stunt for his latest single. John: “Well, we use advertising.” Reporter: “You’re an advertisement.” John: “Will you shut up a minute!” (Giulano 109) In the heat of exchange, Lennon breaks his cool at the reporter who underscores that there is no way to differentiate between the use of advertising to promote peace and to promote John and Yoko. This concurs with Graeme Turner’s argument in Fame Games that “the celebrity’s ultimate power is to sell the commodity that is themselves” (Turner 12). At the point that would convert this speaking subject into a walking advertisement, the hippie peacenik snaps and reveals a violent temper not befitting someone who would follow Gandhi’s way of non-violence. Engaging with the mass media, John and Yoko’s media war packaged and promoted their peace product as art and advertising, as information and entertainment, as a discourse of political dissent and of self-promotion. With a slogan like “War is Over! If You Want It,” these two media warriors supplied youth culture at the end of the 60’s with the peace product and process that was lacking. Their consuming images and anthems anticipated the “collusional critique” of eighties art and its appropriation of media images that function as “both critical manifesto and the very commodity it critiques” (Sussman 15). In this case, John and Yoko’s media war provided a critique of the official war program while capitalizing upon the very commodity against which war had been declared. For if John seriously wanted to “make peace big business for everybody” (Newsweek 102), this could be achieved only in a parasitic relationship with a war economy making John and Yoko both peace prophets and profiteers. But even if one acknowledges the profit motive in the peace campaign—and this assumes that John was not misappropriated as a “peace capitalist” by the establishment press—there was something else fluxing up the media machine and the war program. John and Yoko understood how their star power and international celebrity gave them a privileged and almost unlimited access to a mass media that wanted to soak up their Pop star aura to satisfy its own instrumentalist agenda. The press and the public wanted John and Yoko, and these two media stars fed this desire and then some. They complied with the pop star demand, but spiked it with the dangerous supplements of political dissent and subversive humour. They fed this desire with a feedback loop and interventionist strategy, with an anti-war army surplus provided at no extra charge. The year 1969 concluded with another savvy media event that lent John and Yoko’s media war more political credibility and gave the American establishment something they had not bargained for: a photo-op and peace dialogue with Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau of Canada. Once again, John and Yoko’s media war had added an extra twist and an extra shout that the war programmers would have preferred not to hear, the message “War is Over (If You Want It!)” and “War is Over” whether they wanted it or not. Imagine that. Works Cited “The Peace Anthem,” Newsweek, December 1, 1969. Eco, Umberto. Travels in Hyperreality, San Diego, CA: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1987. Giulano, Geoffrey and Brenda. The Lost Lennon Interviews, Holbrook, MA: Adams Media Corporation, 1996. Sussman, Elizabeth. On the Passage of a Few People Through a Brief Moment of Time: The Situationist International 1957-1972, Boston: M.I.T. Press and Institute of Contemporary Art, 1989. Turner, Graeme, Frances Bonner and David Marshall. Fame Games: The Production of Celebrity in Australia, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000). Wiener, Jon. Come Together: John Lennon in His Time (New York: Random House, 1984). Links http://www.cnn.com/SHOWBIZ/9706/21/lennon.award Citation reference for this article Substitute your date of access for Dn Month Year etc... MLA Style Kaplan, Louis. "“War is Over! If You Want It”" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 6.1 (2003). Dn Month Year < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0302/06-warisover.php>. APA Style Kaplan, L., (2003, Feb 26). “War is Over! If You Want It”. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture, 6,(1). Retrieved Month Dn, Year, from http://www.media-culture.org.au/0302/06-warisover.html

IntroductionRecut trailers typically mix footage from one or more films to create a preview for a feature that will never exist. Challenging the trailer’s assumed function as existing merely to gain an audience for a main attraction, the recut trailer suggests that the trailer can exist separately from a film. This paper will ask if recut trailers are evidence of fan enthusiasm and question precisely where this enthusiasm is directed. Do recut trailers demonstrate there are fans for the feature film that is recut, or does this enthusiasm extend beyond an appreciation and anticipation for a feature film? It will be ascertained if the recut trailer – as a site for homage, parody and fandom – transcends the advertising imperatives of box office success. This paper will demonstrate how fan-made trailers are symptomatic of the need for a new critical approach to trailers, one that does not situate the trailer as the low advertisement to the high cultural text of the film. It will be proposed that trailers form a network, of which the feature films and other trailers that are invoked form only a part.Recut trailers, while challenging the norms of what is considered an advertisement, function within a strict frame of reference: in their length, use of credits, text, voiceover in direct address to the audience, and editing techniques. Consequently, the recut trailer parodies and challenges the tools of promotion by utilising the very methods that sell to a prospective audience, to create an advertisement that is stripped of its traditional function by promoting a film that cannot exist and cannot be consumed. The promotion seems to end at the site of the advertisement, while still calling upon a complex series of interconnected references and collective knowledge in order for the parody to be effective. This paper will examine the network of Brokeback Mountain parodies, which were created before, during and after the feature film’s release, suggesting that the temporal imperative usually present in trailers is irrelevant for their appreciation. A playlist of the trailers discussed is available here.The Shift from Public to PrivateThe limited scholarship available situates the trailer as a promotional tool and a “brief film text” (Kernan 1), which is a “limited sample of the product” of the feature film (Kerr and Flynn 103), one that directly markets to demographics in order to draw an audience to see the feature. The traditional distribution methods for the trailer – as pre-packaged coming attractions in a cinema, and as television advertisements – work by building a desire to see a film in the future. For the trailer to be commercially successful within this framework, there is an imperative to differentiate itself from other trailers through creating an appeal to stars, genre or narrative (Kernan 14), or to be recognised as a trailer in amongst the stream of other advertisements on television. As new media forms have emerged, the trailer’s spatial and temporal bounds have shifted: the trailer is now included as a special feature on DVD packages, is sent to mobile devices on demand, and is viewed on video-sharing websites such as YouTube. In this move from the communal, collective and directed consumption of the trailer in the public sphere to the individualised, domesticated and on-demand consumption in the private sphere – the trailer has shown itself to be a successful “cross-media text” (Johnston 145). While choosing to watch a trailer – potentially long after the theatrical release of the film it promotes – suggests a growing “interactive relationship between film studio and audience” (Johnston 145), it also marks the beginning of increasing interactivity between the trailer and the audience, a relationship that has altered the function and purpose of the trailer beyond the studio’s control. Yet, the form of the trailer as it was traditionally distributed has been retained for recut trailers in order to parody and strip the trailer of its original meaning and purpose, and removes any commercial capital attached to it. Rather than simply being released at the control of a studio, the trailer is now actively shared, appropriated and altered. Demand for the trailer has not diminished since the introduction of new media, suggesting that there is an enthusiasm not only for coming feature films, but also for the act of watching, producing and altering trailers that may not translate into box office takings. This calls into question the role of the trailer in new media sites, in which the recut trailers form a significant part by embodying the larger changes to the consumption and distribution of trailers.TrailerTubeThis study analyses recut trailers released on YouTube only. This is, arguably, the most common way that these trailers are watched and newly created trailers are shared and interacted with, with some clips reaching several million views. The purpose of this paper is to analyse the network that is created surrounding the recut trailer through addressing its specific qualities. YouTube is the only site consulted in this study for the release for fan-made trailers as YouTube forms a formidable part of the network of recut trailers and studio released trailers, and currently, serves as a common way for Internet users to search for videos.YouTube was launched in December 2005, and in the following 1-2 years, the majority of popular recut trailers emerged. The correlation between these two dates is not arbitrary; the technology and culture promoted and fostered by the unique specificities of YouTube has in turn developed the recut trailer as “one of the most popular forms of fan subversion in the age of digital video” (Hilderband 52). It is also the role of audiences and producers that has ensured that the trailer has moved beyond its original spatial and temporal bounds – to be consumed in the home or on mobile devices, and at any stage past any promotional urgency. The Brokeback Mountain parodies, to be later discussed, surfaced mainly in 2006, demonstrative of an early acceptance of the possibilities that YouTube and mass broadcasting presented, and the possibilities that the trailer could offer to YouTube’s “clip” culture (Hilderbrand 49).The specificities of YouTube as a channel for dissemination have allowed for fan-made trailers to exist alongside trailers released by studios. Rather than the trailer being consumed and then becoming irretrievable, perpetually tied to the feature film it promotes, the online distribution and storing of trailers allows a constant revisiting of the advertisement – this act alone demonstrating an enthusiasm for the form of the trailer. Hilderbrand argues that YouTube “offers[s] new and remediating relationships to texts that indicate changes and acceleration of spectatorial consumption” (49). Specifically, Hilderbrand proposes that YouTube functions as a collection of memories, which in turn present a “portal of cultural memory” (54) – amplified by the ability to create playlists and channels. The tagging of trailers to the films from which they drive, the official trailers released for a film referenced, or other recut trailers ensures that there is a physical trace of the network the trailer creates. Recut trailers demand for knowledge and capital to be shared amongst viewers, the technical attributes of YouTube allow for much of this knowledge to be available on demand, and to be hyperlinked or suggested to the viewer. In order for the parody present in recut trailers to function at the level intended, the films that are drawn upon would presumably need to be identified and some basic elements of the plot understood in order for the capital imbued in the trailer to be completely realised. If the user is unaware of the film, however, clips of the film or the original trailer can be reached either through the “related videos” menu which populates according to the didactic information for the clip watched, or by searching. As the majority of recut trailers seek to displace the original genre of the film parodied – such as, for example, Ten Things I Hate about Commandments which presents the story of The Ten Commandments as a teen film in which Moses will both part the sea and get the girl – the original genre of the film must be known by the viewer in order to acknowledge the site for parody in the fan-made trailer. Further to this, the network deployed suggests that there must be some knowledge of the conventions of the genre that is being applied to the original film’s promotional qualities. The parody functions by effectively sharing the knowledge between two genres, in conjunction with an awareness of the role and capital of the trailer. Tagging, playlists and channels facilitate the sharing of knowledge and dispersing of capital. As the recut trailer tends to derive from more than one source, the network alters the viewer’s relationship to the original feature film and cultivates a series of clips and knowledge. However, this also indicates that intimate fan knowledge can be bypassed – which places this particular relationship to the trailer and the invoked films as existing outside the realms of the archetypal cult fan. This challenges prior conceptions of fan culture by resisting a prolonged engagement normally attributed to cultivating fan status (Hills), as typically only one trailer will be made, rather than exhibiting a concentrated adulation of one text. The recut trailer is placed as the nexus in a series of links, in which the studio system is subverted while also being directly engaged with and utilised. The tools that have traditionally been used to sell to an audience through pre-packaged coming attractions are now used to promote a film that cannot be consumed that holds no commercial significance for film studios. These tools also work to reinforce the aesthetic and cinematic norms in the trailer, which provide a contract of audience expectations – such as the use of the approval by the American Motion Picture Association screen and classification at the beginning of the majority of recut trailers. The recut trailer assimilates to the nature of video sharing on YouTube in which the trailer is part of a network of narratives all of which are accessible on demand, can be fast-forwarded, replayed, and embedded on numerous social networking sites for further dissemination and accompanying editorial comment. The trailer thus becomes a social text that involves a community and is wide-reaching in its aims and consumption, despite being physically consumed in the private sphere. The feature which enables the user to “favourite” a video, add it to their playlist and embed it in another site, demonstrates that the trailer is considered as its own cohesive form, subject to scrutiny and favoured or dismissed. Constant statistics reflecting its popularity reinforce the success of a recut trailer, and popularity will generally lead to the trailer becoming more accessible. Hilderbrand argues that YouTube has nutured a “new temporality of immediate gratification for audiences” which has in turn contributed to the “culture of the clip” (49), which the trailer seems to exemplify – and in the absence of feature films being legally readily accessible on sites such as YouTube, the trailer seeks to fill the void for immediate gratification.Brokeback MountainsWhile fan-made trailers can generate enthusiasm about the release of an upcoming film they may be linked to – as was recently the case with fan-made trailers for teen vampire film, Twilight – there is also a general enthusiasm to play with the form of the trailer and all that it signifies, while in the process, stripping the trailer of its traditional function. Following the release of the trailer for feature film Brokeback Mountain, numerous recut trailers emerged on YouTube which took the romantic and sexual relationship of the two male leads in the film, and applied this narrative to films depicting two male leads in a non-romantic friendship. In effect, new films were created that used the basis of Brokeback Mountain to shift plots in existing films, creating a new narrative in the process. The many Brokeback… parodies vary in popularity, and have been uploaded to YouTube continuously since 2006. The titles include Brokeback to the Future, Saved by the Bell: Brokeback Style, Brokeback of the Ring, The Brokeback Redemption, Broke Trek, Harry Potter and Brokeback Goblet and Star Wars: The Emperor Brokeback. The trailers use footage from a variety of film and television sources that show a friendship between two men and introduce it to the “style” of Brokeback Mountain. There are several techniques which are used uniformly across all of the trailers in order to convey this new plot: the original score used in the Brokeback Mountain trailer begins each recut trailer; the use of typically white text on a black screen based on the original trailer’s text, or a slight variant of it which is specific to the film which is being recut; and the pace of shots altered to focus on lingering looks, or to splice scenes together in order to imply sexual contact. Consequently, there is a consciousness of the effects used in the original trailer to sell a particular narrative to the audience as something that an audience would want to view. The narrative is constructed as being universal, as any story with two men as the leads and their friendship can be altered to show an underlying homoerotic story, and the form of the trailer allows these storylines to be promoted and shared. The insider knowledge of the fan that has noticed these interactions is able to make their knowledge communal. Hills argues that “fans participate in communal activities” (ix), which here takes the form of creating a network of collective stories which form Brokeback – it is a story extended to several sites, and a story which is promoted and sold. Through the use of tagging, playlists and suggested videos, once one recut trailer is viewed, several others are made instantly available. The availability of the original Brokeback Mountain trailer then serves to reinforce the authenticity and professionalism of the clips, by providing a template in which existing footage from other films is moulded to fit within.The instant identifier of a Brokeback… trailer is the music that was used in the original trailer. This signals that the trailer for Brokeback Mountain was itself so iconic that the use of its soundtrack would be instantly recognisable, and the re-use of music and text suggests that the recut trailers reinforce this iconography and its capital by visually reinforcing what signifies Brokeback Mountain. The network these trailers create includes the film Brokeback Mountain itself, but the recut trailer begins to open a new trajectory for the narrative to mould and shift, identifiable by techniques present in the trailer but not the feature film itself. The fan appreciation is evident in several ways: namely, there is an enthusiasm to conflate a feature film into Brokeback Mountain’s general narrative; that there has been enough of an engagement with a feature in order to retrieve clips to be edited into a new montage, and consequently, a condensed narrative with a direct mode of address; and also the eagerness to see a feature film in trailer form, employing trailer-specific cinematic techniques to enhance parody and displacement. Recut trailers are also subject to commenting, which generally reflect on either the insider fan knowledge of the text that is being initiated to the world of Brokeback Mountain, or take the place of comments that reflect on the success of the editing. In this respect, critique is a part of the communal fan interaction with the creator and uploader in the recut trailer’s network. As such, there is a focus on quality for the creator of the fan video, and rating occurs in order to rank the recut trailers. This focus on quality and professionalism elevates the creator of the recut trailer to the status of a director, despite not having filmed the scenes themselves. Demonstrating the enthusiasm for the role of the trailer, the internal promotion on YouTube of the most successful trailers – designated as such by the YouTube community – signals an active engagement with the role of the trailer, and its social properties, even though it is consumed individually.ConclusionWhile the recut trailer extends the fan gaze toward one object or more, it is typically presented as a parody, and consequently, could also be seen as rejecting elements of a genre or feature film. However, the parody typically occurs at the site of displacement: such as the relationship between the two male leads in Brokeback to the Future having a romantic relationship whilst coming to terms with time-travel; the burning bush in Ten Things I Hate about Commandments being played by Samuel L. Jackson as “Principal Firebush”, complete with audio from Pulp Fiction; or recutting romantic comedy Sleepless in Seattle to become a horror film. The parody relies on knowledge that can be found easily, aided by YouTube’s features, while requiring the creator to intimately engage with a feature film. The role of the trailer in this network is to provide the tools and the boundaries for the new narrative to exist within, and create a system of referents for the fan to identify, through parodies of star appeal, genre, or narrative, as Kernan proposes are the three ways in which a trailer often relies upon to sell itself to an audience (14).As this paper has argued toward, the recut trailer can also be released from the feature films it invokes by being considered as its own coherent form, which draws upon numerous sites of knowledge and capital in order to form a network. While traditionally trailers have worked to gain an audience for an impending feature release, the recut trailer only seeks to create an audience for itself. Through the use of cult texts or a particularly successful form of parody, as demonstrated in Scary Mary Poppins, the recut trailer is widely consumed and shared across multiple avenues. The recut trailer then seeks to promote only itself through providing a condensed narrative, speaking directly to audiences, and cleverly engaging with the use of editing to leave traces of authorship. Fan culture may be seen as the adoration of one creator to the film they recut, but the network that the recut trailer creates demonstrates that there is an enthusiasm in both creators and viewers for the form of the trailer itself, to exist beyond the feature film and advertising imperatives.ReferencesBrokeback of the Ring. 27 Feb. 2006. YouTube. Video. 2 March 2009 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tgt-BiFiBek›.Brokeback to the Future. 1 Feb. 2006. YouTube. Video. 2 March 2009 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8uwuLxrv8jY›.Brokeback Mountain. Dir. Ang Lee. Film. Paramount Pictures, 2005. The Brokeback Redemption Trailer. 28 Feb. 2006. YouTube. Video. 2 March 2009 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FtRi42DEdTE›.Broke Trek – A Star Trek Brokeback Mountain Parody. 27 May 2007. YouTube. Video. 2 March 2009 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xSOuLky3n0›.Harry Potter and the Brokeback Goblet. 8 March 2006. YouTube. Video. 2 March 2009 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9D0veHTxh0›. Hilderbrand, Lucas. "Youtube: Where Cultural Memory and Copyright Converge." Film Quarterly 61 (2007): 48-57. Hills, Matthew. Fan Cultures. New York: Routledge, 2002. Johnston, Keith M. "'The Coolest Way to Watch Movie Trailers in the World': Trailers in the Digital Age." Convergence: The International Journal of Research into New Media Technologies 14 (2008): 145-60. Kernan, Lisa. Coming Attractions: Reading American Movie Trailers. Austin: U of Texas P, 2004. Kerr, Aphra, and Roddy Flynn. "Rethinking Globalisation through the Movie and Games Industries." Convergence: The International Journal of Research Into New Media Technologies 9 (2003): 91-113. The Original Scary ‘Mary Poppins’ Recut Trailer. 8 Oct. 2006. YouTube. Video. 2 March 2009 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2T5_0AGdFic›.Saved by the Bell: Brokeback Style. 4 April 2006. YouTube. Video. 2 March 2009 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHLr5AYl5f4›.Sleepless in Seattle. Dir. Nora Ephron. Film. Tristar Pictures, 1993. Sleepless in Seattle: Recut as a Horror Movie. 30 Jan. 2006. YouTube. Video. 2 March 2009 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=frUPnZMxr08›.Star Wars: The Emperor Brokeback. 14 Feb. 2006. YouTube. Video. 2 March 2009 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=omB18oRsBYg›.The Ten Commandments. Dir. Cecil B. DeMille. Film. Paramount Pictures, 1956. Ten Things I Hate about Commandments. 14 May 2006. YouTube. Video. 2 March 2009 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1kqqMXWEFs›.