Journal articles on the topic 'Casual Creative Environments'

Motivation is imperative because it affects our lives every day. Motivation is the innate drive for all of our activities. All of our behaviors, actions, hope, and beliefs are altered by our inner drive to flourish. Our motives for achievement can range from living needs to satisfying creative needs or realizing success in competitive endeavors. These basic physiological motivational drives alter our natural behavior in different environments. Motivation refers to the dynamics of our practice, which involves our needs, desires, and ambitions in life. It can be well-defined as the driving force trailing all the actions of an individual. The influence of an individual’s needs and enjoy both have a substantial impact on the direction of their behavior. It is placed on your feelings and achievement-related goals. There are different forms of motivation, including external, intrinsic, physiological, and achievement motivation. There are also more adverse forms of motivation. Attainment motivation is based on reaching success and achieving all of our desire in life. It has been imagined in many diverse ways. It can be forwarded as the need for progress or the attainment of quality. Individuals will fill their needs through different means and are driven to succeed for varying reasons, both internal and external. Achievement motives include the need for success and the fear of failure. These are the more predominant reasons that direct our behavior towards positive and negative consequences. The goals of the study were to find the levels, to find the significant association of achievement motivation and achievement based on locality, type of management, type of family and monthly income and to see the correlation between Achievement Motivation and Achievement. Survey Method was used for the present study. 300 higher secondary students were accepted by casual sampling technique from the more senior secondary schools of Kanyakumari district. Percentage Analysis, Mean, Standard Deviation, Chi-square, and Correlation were the statistical techniques used. SPSS analyst zed data and the results arrived. Based on the findings, suggestive measures for improvement were provided.

The purpose of this article is to examine the effects of working conditions in part-time and casual work on worker stress and the consequences for their workplaces. Data were collected through interviews with occupational health and safety representatives, and focus groups and interviews with workers in retail trade. Results show that job insecurity, short- and split-shifts, unpredictability of hours, low wages and benefits in part-time and casual jobs in retail sector, and the need to juggle multiple jobs to earn a living wage contribute to stress and workplace problems of absenteeism, high turnover and workplace conflicts. Gendered work environments and work-personal life conflicts also contribute to stress affecting the workplace. Equitable treatment of part-time and casual workers, treating workers with respect and dignity, and creating a gender-neutral, safe and healthy work environment can help decrease stress, and in turn, can lead to positive workplace outcomes for retail workers.

Purpose Using the holistic approach to migrant exclusion, the purpose of this paper is to examine the refugee crisis as a preparation stage for future exclusion in the host countries. In previous migration analyses, the preparation stage involved only the country of origin, where people were becoming acclimatized to casual and low-status work and an ethos of survival. In the refugee crisis, this important stage spans across three spaces: the country of origin, Turkey as an intermediate stage and the hotspots of Greece. Design/methodology/approach This is a qualitative research that was based on 22 semi-structured interviews with refugees from Syria, Iraq and Afghanistan who live in the hotspot of Moria which is situated in Lesvos, Greece. Findings The research shows that in the first two countries of the preparation stage, refugees have become accustomed to casual and low-status jobs, which results in the loss of their labor identity and the development of instrumental work orientations. Similarly, the living conditions at the hotspots are so problematic that refugees are becoming desperate to escape this environment. These can have serious consequences for integration in the host countries, as refugees become pacified and at the same time strongly inclined to enter casual and low-status employment. Both developments can drastically undermine the refugees’ relation to the societies of the host countries. Originality/value The paper suggests that, given the preparation stage in these three settings, migration policy in the host countries should focus on recognizing long marginalization processes, immediately decongesting the hotspots and pay particular emphasis on the acknowledgment or creation of skills that can distance refugees from casual and low-status work.

Purpose – IT-based supply chain performance is co-created through inter-organizational business processes. This research is motivated to explore how business value of IT in supply chain is co-created in downstream process and probe into the possible complementary effect of relational resources from retailers and customers during the cooperative process. The paper aims to discuss these issues. Design/methodology/approach – A model is proposed to conceptualize the process with three dimensions and six constructs, which emerges a causal link between organization resources application, e-supply chain capability (ESCC) and process performance. And then the research model was validated using partial least squares with data collected from 128 manufacturing firms in China. Findings – The results provide broad support for the following: the casual relationship among inter-organizational resources interaction, ESCC and process performance; the mediating role of ESCC in the e-CRM process is more significant than that in e-ordering process; and there is the moderating effect between relational resources and internal resources in e-CRM process. Practical implications – It offers guidelines for managers to plan the roles played by resource, capabilities and performance for e-supply chain success in multi-firm environments. Originality/value – This study provides a novel perspective and offers important implications for e-supply chain research and practice, by exploring intermediate factors and shedding light on the process of co-creating business value of IT in supply chain.

The biggest challenge humanity is facing right now is to curtail the outspread of COVID-19. To make this successful, people need to adopt precautions of social interaction and health hygiene, as recommended by WHO. Recent evidence indicates that the public tends to take a casual approach towards this recommendation, especially those which pertain to social distancing. Using the health belief model as a guiding theory, we recommend public awareness campaigns to focus on creating awareness regarding the potential benefits of the preventive approach, seriousness, and susceptibility of disease. Besides, authorities should also create an environment so that people face fewer barriers in adopting preventive measures. We also highlighted the potential role of positive psychology during COVID-19.

Based on the qualitative analysis of data from workshops and interviews with teenagers from eight countries, this article aims to determine the degrees of productive, narrative, and aesthetic knowledge that teenagers put into practice when they create their media contents. From a theoretical framework that links teens, informal learning environments, and participatory cultures, the findings point toward three types of teenage produsers: casual, aspirational, and expert. Each type is representative of different aspects of production in terms of the types of media contents produced; the planning of the production process; the application of narrative and aesthetic values when creating; and the motivations behind the production. The study concludes with an invitation to rethink what participatory culture means in the light of teenagers’ production practices.

This article builds upon earlier research (McDaniel & Fiore, 2010) in which the authors presented case studies focused on the design and development of two original ethical learning video games. Through this case study and a review of relevant literature, the authors explored the content creation of, and theoretical rationale for, the design and development of ethics games. Both games were geared toward an undergraduate student audience as casual learning games to be completed in a few hours of gameplay. To update and expand this original work, the authors reviewed contemporary research on identity, cognition, and self in relation to video game environments as well as literature dealing more specifically with ethics and video games. From this literature base and their applied design experiences, the authors offer ten guidelines as best practices to follow for aspiring ethics game developers.

Culture is system of idea and act as a result of human creation. A culture becomes history when their community leave it. A language, as part of culture, becomes dead when a speech community leave it. Preserving culture and language is important to keep our identity and civilization. This research shows how Javanese speech community keep their use of Javanese to maintain their culture in Northern Semarang as Javanese environment by taking the data from Junior Highschool students. The result shows that most of them still maintain Javanese, especially the lowest level of Javanese (Ngoko) to talk to their friend in casual situation. Few of them understand the highest level of Javanese (Krama) to honor the older. They are also able to write and read Javanese letters since it is taught as a school subject with local content. Javanese language and culture maintenance is supported by the local government to promote Semarang tourism industry to gain more benefit for the local people and the local government. Preserving culture by maintaining the language must be supported by the environment by using it in daily conversation and teaching it in school to make the young generation understand and use the language.

Social networking has become one of the most popular communication tools to have evolved over the past decade, making it a powerful new information sharing resource in society. To date realising the potential of Social Networking Sites (SNSs) beyond their leisure uses has been severely restricted in a number of areas. This paper focuses on the application of SNSs in a learning environment and the impact this could have on academic practices. While undoubtedly, due to the very casual nature of social networking, there are serious concerns over how it could be integrated in a learning environment; the potential positive outcomes are many and varied. As a communication tool, its effectiveness is already manifesting in the millions who use these networks to communicate on a daily basis. So it is conceivable that educators should be able to create a learnscape - an environment for formal and informal learning - that adheres to educational guidelines, but also harnesses the social support system of these on-line communities. This paper examines the risks involved in the creation of this new learning ecology, and explores the challenges faced by both technology experts and teachers in delivering a truly innovative and effective new approach to education.

As an artist and junior researcher for the project “Public Transport as Public Space,” my aim is to understand atmospheres on urban public transport and the ways in which they can be changed through performative public art practice. Indefinite yet powerful, atmospheres, which emerge in the relation between a perceived environment and perceiving bodies (Böhme 2017), can be created deliberately through aesthetic work and used as a tool for shaping certain experiences and behaviors in public space (Allen 2006). For instance, visually attractive public artworks permanently integrated into the public transport environment may create atmospheres of safety and comfort, navigating passengers through this regulated public space. On the other hand, on public transport, where unacquainted people must travel shoulder to shoulder, different atmospheres emerge not only through material modifications but also through unexpected encounters and events (Bissell 2010). In this sense, performative public art interventions can intentionally “drum up the ambience” (Thibaud 2015) and imbue the atmosphere of commutes with elements that are surprising and out of the ordinary. This paper outlines some of my art projects, which aim to carefully disrupt casual rides on public transport by creating moments of strangeness and humor.

<p>In public space there is the information, that is always designed with a specific purpose. For example, signposts are placed to provide direction guidance and to highlight some of the most important objects. Public signs function as the visiting cards of some institution or enterprise, creating indirectly a definite image of these institutions or some ethnic or social groups, while graffiti is written to create and maintain a public image and to express emotions or attitudes towards some person, a group of people, events or processes. To achieve the expected objective the authors of signs often use the eye-catching texts that differ from linguistic and para-linguistic means, such as artistic expressive means, unusual combinations of words and cultural signs, bright colors, variations of letter fonts, shapes and sizes, different types of images and symbols.</p><p>There have been selected three types of signs available in the linguistic landscape database consisting of 7347 public signs obtained in nine Baltic cities: firstly the largest group of signs by its percentage – the signs (ergonyms), which function as visiting cards of the institution or enterprise and which attract potential customers; secondly, these are graffiti texts, that are the least regulated language signs, reflecting free linguistic and semiotic experiments; and thirdly, these are advertisements, which more than any other public texts contain visual information and referral to a reader with rhetorical phrases and metaphors. In some cases, in order to determine the dissemination of any verbal text approach in the public space, posters are also viewed.</p><p>The goal is to identify and characterize the most peculiar development means of excerpted public signs (linguistic and para-linguistic), as well as compositional characteristics of open space advertisements of institutions and enterprises. There has been used the semiotic landscape theory, in which the language is viewed in correlation with the visual discourse, culture and a way of thinking, accepting multimodality of signs (Kress, Van Leewen 1996; Scollon &amp; Scollon 2003; Jaworski, Thurlow 2010). There have been applied as well a theory of linguistic creativity and a theory of optical metaphors, which allow to determine and analyze different language and semiotic means, rarely used in public reports, as well as to interpret the transfer of meanings (Zawada 2005; Бутакова 2013; Kessler 2013). Interviews and e-mails to employees of companies and institutions justify a creation process and promotion of definite ergonyms.</p><p>The original creation of elements of public reports are viewed in the article according to five language levels proposed by the onomastic J. Butakova: orthographic and graphic, word-formation, lexical, morphological and syntactical level. There was also discussed about the semantic level, highlighting less frequently found thematic groups of ergonyms and metaphorical messages, as well as about the semiotic level, describing compositional characteristics of open space advertisements of definite institutions and enterprises.</p><p>Overall, public signs of the Baltic States are characterized by initial capitalization throughout the text, nominal phrases, lack of punctuation marks, a variety of signs and symbols, which directly reflect the scope of activities, functionality and specificity of institution or company, product or service. Only in signs of names it is typical to use nomenclature names and other onyms (antroponyms, toponyms), in advertisements there are large images, rhetorical questions or exclamation sentences, but graffiti is a visual magnification of casual users’ handwriting, stylized signatures or inaccurately written personal names, slangs with a negative connotation.</p><p>Orthographic and graphic level depicts the broadest diversity of linguistic and semiotic means, especially in the signs of names and graffiti. The most commonly found differences are the usage of lower and upper case of initial letters, variations of their artistic design, highlighting a particular letter of the sign, changing the size, font, color of a word or a part of a word, as well as ignoring the rules of language. Some graffitis demonstrate the examples of graphic hybridization, combining different pattern systems in a single report.</p><p>Word-formation is revealed in the article only in the signs of names, determining the fact, that the formation of diminutives, compound names, abbreviations and foreign formants is relatively rare, wherewith it is considered as a kind of linguistic approach in creation of signs.</p><p>Since the public signs selected for the research, are characterized by nominal phrases, mostly substantives and groups of words, then in morphological and syntactical point of view there are interesting examples, which are only the samples of the usage of adjectives, verbs or linking words and which have a full grammatical center (especially in ergonyms and graffiti). The fact that there are almost no punctuation marks in public signs, the usage of quotes and commas in ergonyms, as well as doubling or tripling of exclamation marks or the usage of full stops, ellipses and question marks in graffiti and advertising is considered to be a kind of linguistic technique to attract the attention.</p><p>Creative linguistic techniques in a lexical semantic level are considerably rarely used nomenclature words in name signs, symbolic ergonyms in the full names of public institutions, actualization of cultural and historical information in the local environment, time category, mythological and literary characters, human character traits, behavior and properties in ergonyms, romantic dedications and poems in graffiti, and linguistic metaphors in ergonyms, advertisements and graffiti.</p><p>Semiotic public signs attract attention if they contain visual images and metaphors are the only information providers and if there is an untraditional layout, unusual shape or interesting combinations of visual elements. Some institutions and companies demonstrate a uniform compositional message in their open space advertisements.</p><p>In general, it can be maintained that both linguistic and semiotic means play an essential role in providing and perceiving general message of public signs. There are not so many techniques for creative text presentations in the Baltic States’ public space, but they reflect authors’ perception of their scope (institution or company, products or services, events), near or distant space and values.</p>

While the consumption of visual information becomes a daily commodity integrated into our lives, data visualisation is dominated by dashboards and charts. The main contribution of this article is an advanced way to visualise data as a data story. We converged paradigms from digital storytelling, serious games, and data visualisation to turn data into useful insights. The creation, management, and analysis of data have been increasingly given more attention in industry and professional practices. However, the potential of packaging data and analytic results into easily digestible and visually explorable content intended for non-professional audiences has not yet been investigated to its full extent. We contributed towards overcoming the gap between data analytics and data presentation. By integrating a story-like environment and entertainment into data visualisation, we explore the possibilities of efficiently communicating data and insights to general audiences in a casual context. We present this modular approach to customising messages for visual data storytelling from an information and communication perspective, including a test prototype developed to illustrate our data storytelling framework.

The main aim of this paper is analyzed the role, importance and methodology for creating the strategies for international competition, as well as the ways of implementing and evaluating the selected strategies. This is done by applying exploratory, descriptive and casual methods to outperform competitors and determine the scope of an enterprise’s engagement in international business. The article examines forces and steps of planning, implementing and evaluating a business strategy. Enterprises must recognize and compare the factors that compose foreign environments, especially the state and local governmental politics, legal regulations, economic and financial forces, cultural differences, business ethics, technological development, infrastructure, natural resources protections, sociological and demographic issues. Three competitive strategies have been distinguished: cost leadership, differentiation and focus. Virtues of M. Porter’s five forces model: threat of new entry, competitive rivalry, supplier power, buyer power and threat of substitutes have been considered. The selection of the target markets and recognizing customers preferences belong to the most important tasks of strategic planning. An enterprise can select three levels of international involvement: passive participation, active involvement and taking the international position. Foreign countries impose barriers on international trade, but international agreements facilitate healthy competition.

Were considered the issues of making managerial decisions in uncertain conditions with classical criteria approach for estimation of alternatives from a set of possible decision-making variants. Was considered the decision-making model in uncertain conditions, based on the game theory concept when the uncertain situation was caused by objective circumstances which are unknown or have casual nature. Was formalized the optimal decision-making process on the conditions for adjusting the inventories use volume. Were considered the concepts and components of the information situation. Was considered the information situation classifier related to environmental uncertainty and applicable classical criteria in the decision-making process. The risk function in the implementation of a particular strategy is defined. Found risk magnitude for a possible information situation and the recorded state of the environment. Defined risk as the difference between the solution when accurate data on the environment state is available and the result when data on the state of the environment is not determined. Three-month plan creation for inventory use is taken as an example, were considered alternative strategies for the formation of inventories. Developed plan adjustment algorithm for enterprise production stocks. Defined an effective production strategy for the next strategic management of enterprise production stocks period according to the algorithm. An assessment matrix of the considered information situation is formed. According to estimates, an alternative solution was chosen. Using the voting method, the optimal strategy and the amount of risk were found. It is concluded that it is insufficient to use one classical criterion for optimal decision-making in uncertain conditions.

Young people living with perinatal infections of Human Immunodeficiency Virus (YLPHIV) face a chronic disease, with treatment including adherence to lifelong antiretroviral treatment (ART). The aim of this QES was to explore adherence to ART for YLPHIV as an assemblage within the framework of the biopsychosocial model with a new materialist perspective. We searched up to November 2021 and followed the ENTREQ and Cochrane guidelines for QES. All screening, data extraction, and critical appraisal were done in duplicate. We analysed and interpreted the findings innovatively by creating images of meaning, a storyboard, and storylines. We then reported the findings in a first-person narrative story. We included 47 studies and identified 9 storylines. We found that treatment adherence has less to do with humans’ preferences, motivations, needs, and dispositions and more to do with how bodies, viruses, things, ideas, institutions, environments, social processes, and social structures assemble. This QES highlights that adherence to ART for YLPHIV is a multisensorial experience in a multi-agentic world. Future research into rethinking the linear and casual inferences we are accustomed to in evidence-based health care is needed if we are to adopt multidisciplinary approaches to address pressing issues such as adherence to ART.

Purpose In today’s business world, trust is an essential ingredient for business success, as it serves as a foundation for enhancing a network of positive relationships among businesses, clients, employees and stakeholders. This study aims to shed light on a deeper and more substantial understanding of trust by examining the casual association between national culture and trust. Design/methodology/approach The study empirically investigates the extent to which cultural factors promote and constrain the level of trust using a mixed sample of 46 developed and developing countries observed over the period of 1990-2014. Findings The study provides new empirical evidence that trusting behavior is explained systematically by national culture. Countries with high individualistic and high long-term oriented cultures are the most favorable environment that fosters trust among people in society. In contrast, individuals from countries with the expression of high power distance and high uncertainty avoidance cultures appear to exhibit less trust in others. Practical implications The study provides managerial implications, especially for managers and management consultants in a global context, regarding the cultural relevance of trust in the new and foreign environment, and the effective management of trust among culturally diverse workforces and business relationships. In addition, the study should serve as a supplemental learning material in the business and management disciplines to demonstrate the essential role of trust in the global business environment. Originality/value The study adds to the existing body of knowledge on trust by offering new empirical insights into how culture plays an influential role in the creation of trust. This serves as a good starting point for academic scholars and practicing professionals to further develop appropriate management strategies and execution plans for managing trust across different cultural settings.

The objective of the study was to examine levels of absolute poverty and relative poverty (inequality) within and across various occupations practised by the Mishing tribe of Assam. The tribe inhabits the flood-prone riverine areas of Assam, a state located in India’s Northeastern region. Our study was based on primary data collected from two sample districts of Assam: Dhemaji, remote, completely rural and extremely flood-prone and Sivasagar, a district with some urban characteristics and less susceptible to floods. The research revealed a high level of poverty among casual labour working in agricultural and non-agricultural areas. Additionally, it was observed that inequality was higher among the self-employed working in the agriculture, non-agriculture and services sector. For the diversification of agriculture, expansion of the rural non-farm sector; provision of socio-economic safety nets; creation of employment opportunities; improvement in infrastructure and a long-lasting solution of the region’s flood and erosion problem, we recommend an equity-based approach to raise the standard of living of Mishing tribes and their villages.

Abstract Objectives The aim of this study was to determine whether there is an association between body image satisfaction/dissatisfaction among college students and meal consumption at restaurants. Methods Four surveys were used to collect all data: NEMS-P, SATAQ-3, SATAQ-4 and the EDE-A. NEMS-P was used to assess the food and nutrition environment, SATAQ-3 was used to assess societal influences on body image, SATAQ-4 was used to assess the internalization of appearance ideals and the EDE-A survey was used to measure eating disorder psychopathology. Participants had to be enrolled as a student during the 2019–2020 academic year on the college campus where this study occurred to participate. Pearson and Spearman correlation were used to assess association between restaurant meal consumption and body image. Chi-square test was used to analyze categorial variables (n = 185). Results There was a significant association between students who were unhappy with their weight consuming meals more frequently at fast-food restaurants compared to sit down restaurants (P &lt; 0.001); there was also a significant association between students who were unhappy with their weight choosing to eat at a combination of restaurants (fast-food, food courts, cafeteria's etc.) more frequently than sit-down restaurants (P &lt; 0.05). A significant association was also noted between students who were unhappy with their shape choosing to eat more frequently at fast-food restaurants compared to sit-down restaurants (P &lt; 0.05). Conclusions A higher mix of fast-food and fast casual restaurants on the college campus may contribute to an obesogenic environment, while the availability of sit-down restaurants may contribute to a more healthful eating environment. Creating a supportive nutrition environment on college campuses by increasing the availability of healthy food choices and providing resources that can assist students with developing a healthy relationship with food and their bodies is important for overall health, well- being and academic success. Funding Sources N/A.

The article considers word-forming contamination as a manifestation of the language game acquiring a pronounced pragmatic orientation to verbalize their emotional and psychological state during the military confrontation. The purpose of the study is to identify structural and semantic features of innovative contaminants in modern media discourse. The object of research is innovative derivatives in modern media texts and the subject-word-forming contaminants in the media and their structural and semantic varieties. The source base for the study served on 235 word-formation innovations recorded in the online media (mostly in telegram channels of Ukrainian and Russian opposition bloggers) from February to June 2022. It was found that the most active is the contamination type of derivatives formed by imposing one creative basis on another. In second place in terms of the number of recorded contaminants is the method of isolating one creative basis into another. It was found that 75% of the recorded graph derivatives contain the Latin letter Z, which in the Ukrainian and Russian opposition media discourse became a symbol of the Russian invasion of Ukraine and acquired a negative evaluation value. Particular attention is paid to innovations that have emerged as a result of the language game with precedent phrases from media texts of the Russian-Ukrainian war. It is proposed to nominate such occasionalism, which was formed in a lexical-syntactic way and acquired the status of hashtags, and hashtag-contaminants. It is proved that the names of the aggressor country, government officials, the military, and all supporters of imperial-militaristic policy acquire a low tone. The negative evaluation of a person or phenomenon occurs with the help of reduced-invective vocabulary, which creates an ironic color to the work. The synthetic functionality of contaminants, which perform nominative, evaluative and expressive functions at the same time, is substantiated. This fact confirms the general tendency towards the conscious desire of speakers to save word-forming means. The study provides grounds for determining the following results: modern media texts demonstrate the extraordinary activity of innovative contaminants as information weapons during the Russian-Ukrainian war; the variety of structural and semantic models of the analyzed derivatives testifies to the high creative potential of speakers and the productivity of non-casual ways of word-formation. We see the prospects of the study in the in-depth development of the structural-semantic classification of contaminants in modern media discourse.

The importance of historical sites containing archaeological and architectural fabrics has many physical, economic and social; they differ depending on the form and structure in different areas of the city. The historic environment of the urban content for historic buildings and heritage guides the manager to the preservation of the entities. Research shows that there is a large gap between the classroom buildings and the development process of the surrounding urban environment. By focusing on sustainable development of the historical heritage areas, it is necessary to operate a reallocation of buildings for better preservation. The study covers the following: the attempt to link the new features for creating activities of the heritage of the population of the surrounding environment, to increase the degree of attention of the living environment around the building. Factors that affect the process of maintenance, and reuse of heritage buildings in the choice of assignment. It is proposed to try to find a general concept for the development of heritage areas within the public sphere. The role of community participation as a means of awareness and the definition of ordinary citizens of the importance of the environment and heritage content. It also discusses the mapping methods to study and treat to represent the heritage buildings through reallocation as one of the important conservation measures through the example of the Casbah of Belamech. This research also presents a set of conclusions and recommendations in the form of a model with an information system on the environment (SIE) to develop the most important features in the development of heritage buildings, to ensure the sustainability of its environment.

The higher education (HE) sector in Australia is in a state of flux due to a range of social, political and economic factors. Increased competition, greater student diversity, tautening of industry exigencies, reduced funding, and rapid technological advances are key drivers of change in this environment. Within this period of transformation, HE institutions remain steadfast in maintaining quality teaching and learning practices. Challenges are therefore presented on the traditional role and function of the teaching academic, creating opportunities to explore how staff can be better prepared to teach into the new era of HE. Professional development for learning and teaching is one approach that can support staff to enhance teaching practice. Professional development programs however that fail to meet the contemporary needs of HE or consider the academic’s professional requirements, may be at risk of becoming extraneous. A move towards a more flexible approach to professional development may be necessary to meet these requirements to provide appropriate, timely support for teachers. This paper problematises approaches to professional development which adopt a ‘one-size-fits-all’ model and introduces a new, innovative program Continuing Professional Development (Learning & Teaching) (CPD [L&T]) at the University of Wollongong . The CPD (L&T) model supports the professional development of all teaching staff – from casual teacher to professor level, academic and professional staff. The model is externally referenced and features self-nominated activities for accreditation. CPD (L&T) enables multiple, ongoing methods of engagement across a professional’s teaching career, supporting a new, You-topic vision of professional development in learning and teaching.

Purpose. A purpose to analyses methods and models, which ground the organization and technology decisions of building of objects, in particular, bridges and transporting tunnels, is put in the article. Methodology. A normative document which is used presently has whole row failings, conditioned by imperfection of information, arbitrariness of form of presentation of information, besides practically does not take into account the requirements of automation. In modern conditions of construction on the optimality of organizational and technological solutions to a variety of factors, some of which are the causes of risk, and the second arises as measures to reduce the impact of the risk. These circumstances require the development of an effective system that minimizes their impact on the selection of optimal organizational and technological solutions. To minimize the time and cost of construction for a given quality of construction works based on the selected methods of organization and technology of production of construction works. Findings. The creation of modern simulation models based on engineering principles that will allow to create optimal conditions to address the complex issues of the reliability of organizational and technological solutions in the construction of objects, in particular, bridges and transporting tunnels. Originality. Has been proved in the conditions of market relations the optimality of organizational and technological solutions can only be achieved at the account of risks arising from changes in the organizational and technological environment of project and construction organizations and other participants of investment and construction activities. Practical value. A simulation technique, which creates additional possibility at estimation of risk due to that does possible appearance of casual scenarios, has developed.

AbstractWithin research on ageing in neighbourhoods, older adults are often positioned as impacted by neighbourhood features; their impact on neighbourhoods is less often considered. Drawing on a study exploring how person and place transact to shape older adults’ social connectedness, inclusion and engagement in neighbourhoods, this paper explores how older adults take action in efforts to create neighbourhoods that meet individual and collective needs and wants. We drew on ethnographic and community-based participatory approaches and employed qualitative and geospatial methods with 14 older adults in two neighbourhoods. Analysis identified three themes that described the ways that older adults enact agency at the neighbourhood level: being present and inviting casual social interaction, helping others and taking community action. The participants appeared to contribute to a collective sense of connectedness and creation of social spaces doing everyday neighbourhood activities and interacting with others. Shared territories in which others were present seemed to support such interactions. Participants also helped others in a variety of ways, often relating to gaps in services and support, becoming neighbourhood-based supports for other seniors. Finally, participants contributed to change at the community level, such as engaging politically, patronising local businesses and making improvements in public places. Study findings suggest the potential benefits of collaborating with older adults to create and maintain liveable neighbourhoods.

In recent years, European countries have been trying to cultivate electrical scooters (e-scooters) as an alternative form of micro-mobility. The purchase and maintenance costs of private e-scooters are expensive so cities have been collaborating with companies to construct an e-scooter rental network. This paper aims to interpret the usage patterns of e-scooters and suggest optimal station locations for charging and parking. The dataset depicts a three-month time period (August, September, and May of the year 2020/2021) of 26,374 trips, in which there were no pandemic limitations. The results are based on two main features: the initial–final position of the e-scooter (the total distance is unknown) and the travel time. Most e-scooter rides refer to leisure trips but there is a portion of users that ride e-scooters for casual trips or commutes to and from work. Here, an electrical scooter network that covers the demand of the city of Thessaloniki is suggested. The implementation plan indicates three stages of construction up to the completion of the network. The construction operation is responsible for the creation and development of a sustainable network by adding approximately 20 stations at every stage. The capacity of the stations fluctuates between 3 and 20 parking spaces, which should accommodate e-scooters and preserve free spaces for potential riders. According to the characteristics of the city of Thessaloniki, its coverage requires the construction of 67 carefully distributed stations.

Purpose. The article is devoted to the study of the authorʼs stylistics by Yevhen Hutsalo, in particular to the identification of the linguistic and stylistic dominants of the writerʼs bizarre tdiscourse. The material of the study was a bizarre trilogy of the writer «Borrowed Man», «Private Life of the Phenomenon», «Parade of Planets». Research methods. The research is based on general scientific methods, using inductive and descriptive-analytical methods – for the accumulation, systematization and analysis of factual material; method of phraseological analysis – to identify the phraseology of the phrase; structural and semantic methods – for the analysis of textual integration of phraseology; the method of comparative analysis is used to compare casual and occasional phraseological units; the method of contextual analysis was used to establish the authorʼs intentions and text-forming potentials of transformed phraseology. Results. The authorʼs linguistic and stylistic organization of Yevhen Hutsaloʼs bizarre trilogy is analyzed, its linguistic and stylistic dominants, which appear as text-forming, plotforming and genre-forming factors of Yevhen Hutsaloʼs bizarre discourse, are determined. Their typological manifestations and expressive-pragmatic functions in the text space of the studied chimera are determined. It is revealed that the writer uses structural-semantic transformations and semantic modifications of phraseology, occasional phraseology, synonymization of phraseological units, authorʼs aphorisms, authorʼs paraphrasing and title creation productively to create a chimerical modality of the literary-art text. Conclusions. Itʼs established that the verbalizers of the authorʼs pretentiousness by Yevhen Hutsalo are a complex system of lexical and phraseological means with the dominance of different manifestations of the authorʼs modification of phraseological units. The most significant in the context of the stylistic dominance of pretentiousness are the semantic modification of phraseology, in particular the reception of double actualization, expanded phraseological metaphor, and structural-semantic transformation of phraseology, in particular the reception of phraseological hints, capable of directing. In order to enhance the linguistic-art expressiveness of bizarre novels, the writer productively uses the synonymization of phraseology, to realize the harmony of form and content uses the authorʼs paraphrasing and authorʼs aphorisms.

In the third part of the Social Change Social Indicator series, we look at livelihood prospects across social classes in rural India. The rural population in India earns its living from different livelihood types—farming, agricultural labour, other manual labour, domestic services or other jobs. The majority of farmers in the country are however small landholders and therefore depend on other sources of income to earn enough money to survive or to even purchase crucially needed seeds and fertilisers. Then there are the agricultural labours who do not own land of their own and work in the fields to earn daily wages. Since the land support for these rural families has become increasingly difficult, a section of the rural population has started looking outside their locale for jobs. In recent decades, jobs for urban construction and private security services industry has provided a potential alternative for backward or economically weaker sections from the rural and semi-urban areas of the country. The government has been trying to provide employment opportunities and livelihood for villagers within their villages by encouraging them to start their own enterprises, supporting them by providing some training and finance. But although rural occupational opportunities have increased comparatively in several states, the creation of productive livelihoods for different social classes remains a challenge in certain rural segments of India. From data one observes that while a majority of Schedules Caste (SC) farmers remain daily wagers, the livelihood of the Scheduled Tribe (ST) community remains dependent on forest, agriculture and animal husbandry. The Socio Economic and Caste Census (SECC) 2011, provides survey data on the livelihood opportunities of SC, ST and Non-SC–ST households across sources such as cultivation, non-agricultural own account enterprises, manual casual labourers, part- or full-time domestic services, ragpicking, begging and others.1 Our analysis of data refers to eighteen states that cover more than 95 per cent of the SC or ST population in the country.

The article analyzes the concepts of guerrilla marketing, guerrilla marketing advantages and disadvantages, the guerrilla marketing tools, and marketing in financial institutions. The purpose of the article is to evaluate the tools of guerrilla marketing in financial institutions. Guerrilla marketing is a powerful tool to influence consumer behavior, stimulate sales, do non-traditional advertising, promote competition, meet consumer needs, raise awareness of a product or service, and creative advertising for which a certain budget is required. Guerrilla marketing is based on creativity. Guerrilla marketing is a quick way to promote a brand. Guerrilla marketing doesn't require a lot of investment in an effective marketing campaign when imagination, energy, creativity, time and information suffice. Guerrilla marketing benefits small businesses. Guerrilla marketing requires a small investment to reach the target audience. During guerrilla marketing, people are involved in, or become participants in, guerrilla marketing. Information will be available in a short time. Guerrilla marketing builds strong customer relationships. It is shown that the benefit comes to the consumer, not the business. Guerrilla marketing usually promotes an unusual way of remembering a company’s brand, product, or service deep in customers ’minds. Guerrilla marketing is one of the most innovative practices that can be used to effectively educate consumers about a brand and its benefits. It uses the least amount of money to reach customers, emphasizes creativity and a long-term vision to make a lasting impact on consumers. The article examines guerrilla marketing, which has several key tools for market exposure: a one-on-one offer, which is one of the oldest ways to increase sales - just a casual person trying to sell a product, this method is effective and beneficial in that you can interact with potential customers about their needs and approach to the product; another tool used is a business card, which we can use as a promotional tool, because on the second side of the business card you can briefly describe the services provided, product benefits and other useful information, the next step is to write personal letters to offer and provide your services, and letters or calls should be as individual as possible; the last step could be simply advertising, as there are many online advertising portals where you can place ads for free, so you should take advantage of that. It is emphasized that such tools can be effective because people who read such ads are usually already looking for a similar product. The aim of the research is to investigate the methods and practice of using guerrilla marketing tools in financial services organizations. The paper is based on analysis of scientific literature and case studies. The study includes an analysis of the theoretical literature as well as a case study and comparative analysis. Therefore the key to guerrilla marketing is to become an effective tool in a highly competitive environment where consumer behavior is rapidly changing as a by-product of technological advances and the contemporary internet media. Moreover guerrilla marketing in the financial sector is a marketing technique that creates enthusiasm and engagement with the target audience. Financial guerrilla marketing really sets it apart from traditional forms of marketing - it focuses on a smaller market segment and the smaller budgets needed to run a successful campaign. In addition, advertisements for guerrilla financial services are acceptable. Random outdoor marketing is non-standard outdoor advertising. Ambient advertising is placed on street manhole covers, cranes, pizza boxes, free postcards in bars and elsewhere. All of this is somewhat unusual.

Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to identify the key determinants of back-of-house-based food waste in food service outlets. This case study focuses on Delish restaurants, a well-known restaurant chain in Canada, and aims to provide a clear understanding of food service procurement, kitchen practices, cost management, risk mitigation, menu design and technical literacy needs in hospitality. Some recommendations for future studies are also provided. Design/methodology/approach – The authors chose an exploratory case study design to guide our investigation on restaurants and food waste, based on Yin’s (1994) argument that case studies are the preferred strategy when the “why” questions is being posed and when the focus is on a modern occurrence within a real-life context. Such a design is particularly appropriate for understanding the details and complexity of a phenomenon and its design (Stake, 1995). In this study, research data were collected through multiple points. A semi-structured questionnaire was designed and adopted to collect primary data. The objective of the empirical segment is not to test the applicability of the existing approaches, but rather to study conceptual nuances related to the presented model. A survey study was focused on formal interviews onsite, in two different food service facilities (Restaurant A and B). Findings – When considering food procurement, supplier relationships were found to not be significant for food waste prevention. Company-wide agreements with specific suppliers prevented individual chefs from creating alterations in their ordering to prevent waste. Order shorting was a somewhat common occurrence. However, most employees did not identify portion size as a large driver of waste. This conclusion conflicts somewhat with studies in this area (Kantor et al., 1997). If there was waste on a plate, it is much more likely to be the starches, which are low-cost items as opposed to high-cost proteins. Research limitations/implications – This research has its limitations, which present opportunities for future research. First, this case study is based on two case studies which have their weaknesses, especially in the reliability of data collection. In future, even though both restaurants had access to an earlier version of this case, a more structured analysis with performance indicators related to food waste would contribute to the internal validity of the study. The external validity of the proposed back-of-house-based determinant framework would benefit from being empirically tested with a larger sample, as the author cannot imply that this study’s findings are transferable to other food service operations. Practical implications – From a managerial perspective, this study has merit. Arguably, the restaurant industry has a cumulative impact on the environment, economy and society as a whole. As more consumers in the Western world eat away from home, proper food management practices are desirable. Currently, few governments regulate or mandate measures to monitor restaurants’ sustainability claims and waste management. As consumer expectations change, the onus falls on food operations to validate and inform patrons on practices behind the scenes. Culinary kitchens are often not visible or accessible for some customers, or even obscure for others. Social implications – Strategies undertaken by management and chefs are reactive as opposed to proactive strategies. The reactive strategies are only able to identify waste a week after it has occurred through inventory checks. From this point, it may be impossible to identify the cause of the waste to prevent it from happening in the future. In addition, attribution to the cause may be laid on the incorrect individual, which will further exacerbate the social learning of the staff as a whole. Proactive strategies undertaken before waste occurs are more effective. Originality/value – It must be noted that most of the literature on food waste management in casual-dining restaurants does not cover the key challenges found in the food industry. Most noticeable in the review is that there are very few studies in the literature that include food waste management practices linked to distribution management. This area of interest within the hospitality industry has not been well-developed in recent years and requires more attention.

Purpose Travel for the purpose of visiting festivals represents a fast-growing segment of the tourism market and is a unique opportunity for destinations development based on the fact that festivals provide various economic benefits to the local community. Festivals can have a significant effect on promotion and brand awareness of a destination and are capable of generating significant tourism income. Organizing festivals can attract visitors to the destination outside of the main tourist season and possibly even to destinations and regions they would not otherwise consider visiting. Festival environment can provide a unique and memorable experience to the visitors based around their specific interests. Providing memorable experiences to festival visitors leads to multiple positive outcomes and should be the focus of festival organizers and researchers. Wine festivals combine elements of wine and festival tourism and are a perfect opportunity to create unique experiences. They are defined as special events which are based on showcasing local wines, food and culture. Wine festivals are usually held in picturesque settings within wine regions which only adds to their attractiveness and makes them an ideal platform to create memorable experiences. Visiting wine festivals can be a main motive for travel to a certain destination as well as a specific experience that visitors want to immerse in during their stay at a destination. A comprehensive literature reviews has revealed a limited amount of research that views wine festival visitors experience as a multidimensional construct. Experience economy research has been based on the assumption that consumption has a hedonistic component and that decisions on purchases (or travel) are made with a combination of rational (cognitive) and irrational (emotional) elements. Multidimensional model of consumer experience has been originally proposed by Pine and Gilmore (1999) which consisted of four dimensions (escape, education, entertainment and environment) and has since been the base of a large number of tourism studies that have empirically tested the concept in various tourism settings. Research has shown that tourism experiences are subjective to the consumer and context specific. In other words, experience and its underlining dimensions will greatly vary depending on the platform on which they are created (i.e., restaurant, festival, resort, shopping) and will depended on the different kind of socio-demographic and psychological characteristics of the consumer. Therefore, purpose of this research is to conceptualize a theoretical framework that explains the experience of wine festival visitors through its dimensions, ancendents and consequences. From an empirical standpoint the goal of the research is to segment wine festival visitors based on the developed framework within the experience economy context. Methodology In order to test the proposed research hypotheses, an empirical study based on primary data was conducted using the self-administered survey method. The used questionnaire was based on a comprehensive review of previous research on: tourism experience, festival experience, wine tourism experience and wine festival experience. The questionnaire was designed in English, Croatian, German, Spanish and Italian language. It consisted of 44 items regarding the visitors’ experience, motivation, interest and knowledge about wine, satisfaction, memories and behavioral intentions. In order to check content validity, clarity and comprehensibility as well as to determine the exact time needed to complete it, a pretest of the questionnaire was conducted on a sample of seven members of academic and five members of non-academic community. Sampling strategy was based on the assumption that there are different types (segments) of wine festival visitors so for purposes of data collection three distinctly different wine festivals where chosen. Data was collected between May and June of 2019. And 462 usable questionaries were collected. Empirical analysis was carried out using univariate (average scores, coefficient of skewness and kurtosis for all variables), bivariate (ANOVA, Chi Sqaure, Pearson correlation coefficient) and multivariate (factor analysis, cluster analysis) statistical methods. Findings Based on extensive literature review six wine festival visitor experience dimensions were proposed: cognitive, affective, social, sensory, value and service experience. Results of the research confirm the proposed multi-dimensional theoretical framework of wine festival visitors experience while the correlation of wine festival visitors experience and experience outcomes seems to be positive and significant. In conclusion, based on results of the research visitors wine festival experience is a multidimensional construct that is a result of visitor’s interactions with the festival environment and is depended on visitor’s motivations and involvement with wine. Proposed framework builds on existing knowledge and broadens the scope of experience dimensions outside of the most often cited 4E experience economy model. Additionally, research results are in line with suggestions of researches who point out the fact that experience needs to be measured contextually (based on where they are created) and individually (based on type of consumer). To better understand the nature of subjective wine festival experiences wine festival visitors were segmented into four significantly different groups (business visitors, explorers, devotees and companions) using motivation as segmentation criteria. The identified groups of visitors are significantly different in their motivation, experience and behavioral intentions regarding the visited wine festival and destination. Business visitors are motivated by buying wine and experience the festival mostly through its social component(dimension). They are not highly interested or knowledgeable about wine and view wine festivals as networking opportunities. Their future intentions will revolve about extension of the business activities that brought them to the festival (i.e., buying wine). Explores represent a segment of consumers interested in tasting new wines and engaging in casual social activities at the festival. They view wine as important addition to their trip and will visit different wineries and other festivals but won’t travel exclusively for them. In a certain way they represent the “classic” tourist with higher than average interest and knowledge about wine. Devotees are a visitor segment that in literature is often referred to as wine lovers or enthusiasts. They visit wine festivals to experience their senses being stimulated, their knowledge expanded, their emotions triggered and their need for socialization fulfilled. They have above average interest and knowledge about wine and have plans to return to the festival, to buy wine at the festival as well as to visit wineries that were present at the festival. More than any other visitor segment, the devotees highlight the need for creation of multidimensional memorable experiences. Companions are uninterested participants of wine festivals. Their role is one of support and companionship for visitors belonging to other segments. Their festival experience is based on the social and the emotional dimension. They lack any significant interest or knowledge about wine and will return to the festival only if needed again in their companionship role. In conclusion, based on the results of this research it seems wine festival experience will significantly differ between specific groups of visitors attending the festival.

Actual importance of study. At the beginning of the 2020s developed world countries and countries which are the leaders of world economic development faced up the challenges of radical structural reformation of social production (from industry to service system) which is based on digitalization. Digital technologies in world science and business practice are considered essential part of a complex technological phenomenon like ‘Industry 4.0’. Digitalization should cover development of all business processes and management processes at micro-, meso- and microlevels, processes of social production management at national and world economy levels. In general, in the 21st century world is shifting rapidly to the strategies of digital technologies application. The countries which introduce these strategies will gain guaranteed competitive advantages: from reducing production costs and improved quality of goods and services to developing new sales market and making guaranteed super-profits. The countries which stand aside from digitalization processes are at risk of being among the outsiders of socio-economic development. Such problem statement highlights the actual importance of determining the directions, trends and strategic priorities of social production digitalization. This issue is really crucial for all world countries, including Ukraine which is in midst of profound structural reformation of all national production system. Problem statement. Digital economy shapes the ground for ‘Industry 4.0’, information, It technologies and large databases become the key technologies. The main asset of ‘Industry 4.0’ is information, the major tool of production is cyberphysical systems that lead to formation the single unified highly productive environmental system of collecting, analyzing and applying data to production and other processes. Cyberphysical systems provides ‘smart machines’ (productive machines, tools and equipment which are programmed) integration via their connection to the Internet, or creation special network, ‘Industrial Internet’ (IIoT) which is regarded as a productive analogue of ‘Internet of Things’ (IoT) that is focused on the consumers. ‘Internet of Things’ can be connected with ‘smart factories’ which use ‘Industrial Internet’ to adjust production processes quickly turning into account the changes in costs and availability of resources as well as demand for production made. One of the most essential tasks for current economics and researchers of systems and processes of organization future maintenance of world production is to determine the main strategic priorities of social production digitalization. Analysis of latest studies and publications. Valuable contribution to the study of the core and directions of strategic priorities concerning social production digitalization was made by such foreign scientists as the Canadian researcher Tapscott D [1], foreigners Sun, L., Zhao, L [2], Mcdowell, M. [3] and others. Yet, the study of issues concerning social production digitalization are mainly done by the team of authors as such issues are complicated and multihierarchical. Furthermore, the problem of social production digitalization is closely linked to the transition to sustainable development, which is reflected in the works by Ukrainian scholars like Khrapkin V., Ustimenko V., Kudrin O., Sagirov A. and others in the monograph “Determinants of sustainable economy development” [4]. The edition of the first in Ukraine inter-disciplinary textbook on Internet economy by a group of scientists like Tatomyr I., Kvasniy L., Poyda S. and others [5] should also be mentioned. But the challenges of social production digitalization are constantly focused on by theoretical scientists, analytics and practitioners of these processes. Determining unexplored parts of general problem. Defining strategic priorities of social production digitalization requires clear understanding of prospective spheres of their application, economic advantages and risks which mass transition of social production from traditional (industrial and post-industrial)to digital technologies bear. A new system of technological equipment (production digitalization, Internet-economy, technology ‘Industry 4.0’, NBIC- technologies and circular economy) has a number of economic advantages for commodity producers and countries, as well as leads to dramatical changes in the whole social security system, changes at labour market and reformation the integral system of social relations in the society. Tasks and objectives of the study. The objective of the study is to highlight the core and define the main strategic priorities of social production digitalization, as they cause the process of radical structural reformation of industrial production, services and social spheres of national economy of world countries and world economy in general. To achieve the objective set in the article the following tasks are determined and solved: - to define the main priorities of digital technologies development, which is radically modify all social production business processes; - to study the essence and the role of circular economy for transition to sustainable development taken EU countries as an example; - to identify the strategic priorities of robotization of production processes and priority spheres of industrial and service robots application; - to define the role of NBIC-technologies in the process of social production structural reformation and its transition to new digital technologies in the 21st century. Method and methodology of the study. While studying strategic priorities of social production digitalization theoretical and empirical methods of study are used, such as historical and logical, analysis and synthesis, abstract and specific, casual (cause-and-effect) ones. All of them helped to keep the track of digital technologies evolution and its impact on structural reformation of social production. Synergetic approach, method of expert estimates and casual methods are applied to ground system influence of digital technologies, ‘Industry 4.0’ and their materialization as ‘circular economy’ on the whole complicated and multihierarchical system of social production in general. Basic material (the results of the study). Digital economy, i.e. economy where it is virtual but not material or physical assets and transactions are of the greatest value, institutional environment in which business processes as well as all managerial processes are developed on the basis of digital computer technologies and information and communication technologies (ICT), lies as the ground for social production digitalization. ICT sphere involves production of electronic equipment, computing, hardware,.software and services. It also provides various information sevices. Information Technology serves as a material basis for digital economy and digital technologies development. Among the basic digital technologies the following ones play the profound role: technology ‘Blockchain’, 3D priniting, unmanned aerial vehicles and flying drones, virtual reality (VR). Augmented reality (AR), Internet of Things (IoT), Industrial Internet of Things (IIoT), Internet of Value (IoV) which is founded on IT and blockchain technology, Internet of Everything (IoE), Artificial Intelligence (AI), neuron networks and robots. These basic digital technologies in business processes and management practices are applied in synergy, complexity and system but not in a single way. System combination of digital technologies gives maximal economic effect from their practical application in all spheres of social production-from industry to all kinds of services. For instance, in education digital technologies promote illustrating and virtual supplement of study materials; in tourism trade they promote engagement of virtual guides, transport and logistics security of tourist routes, virtual adverts and trips arrangements, virtual guidebooks, virtual demonstration of services and IT brochures and leaflets. Digital technologies radically change gambling and show businesses, in particular, they provide virtual games with ‘being there’ effect. Digital technologies drastically modify the retail trade sphere, advertisement and publishing, management and marketing, as well as provide a lot of opportunities for collecting unbiased data concerning changes in market conditions in real time. Digital technologies lie as the basis for ‘circular economy’, whose essence rests with non-linear, secondary, circular use of all existing natural and material resources to provide the production and consumption without loss of quality and availability of goods and services developed on the grounds of innovations, IT-technology application and ‘Industry 4.0’. Among priorities of circular economy potential applications the following ones should be mentioned: municipal services, solid household wastes management and their recycling, mass transition to smart houses and smart towns, circular agriculture development, circular and renewable energy, The potential of circular economy fully and equally corresponds to the demands for energy efficiency and rational consumption of limited natural resources, so it is widely applied in EU countries while transiting to sustainable development. In the 21st century processes of social production robotization draw the maximal attention of the society. There is a division between industrial and service robots which combine artificial intelligence and other various digital technologies in synergy. Industrial robots are widely used in production, including automotive industry, processing industry, energetic, construction sectors and agriculture Services are applied in all other spheres and sectors of national and world economies –from military-industrial complex (for instance, for mining and demining the areas, military drones) to robots-cleaners (robots-vacuum cleaners), robots-taxis, robots engaged in health care service and served as nurses (provide the ill person with water, tidy up, bring meals). Social production robotization is proceeding apace. According to “World Robotic Report 2020”, within 2014 – 2019 the total quantity of industrial robots increased by 85 %. By 2020 in the world the share of robots in the sphere of automated industrial production had comprised 34 %, in electronics – 25%, in metallurgy – 10 %. These indicators are constantly growing which results in structural reformation of the whole system of economic and industrial processes, radical changes in world labour market and the social sphere of world economy in general. Alongside with generally recognized types of digital technologies and robotization processes, an innovation segment of digital economy – NBIC – technologies (Nanotechnology, Biotechnology, Information technology, Cognitive Science) are rapidly spread. Among the priorities of NBIC-technologies development the special place belongs to interaction between information and cognitive technologies. As a material basis for its synergy in NBIC-technologies creation of neuron networks, artificial intelligence, artificial cyber brain for robots are applied. It is estimated as one of the most prospective and important achievements of digital economy which determines basic, innovational vector of social production structural reformations in the 21st century. The sphere of results application. International economic relations and world economy, development of competitive strategies of national and social production digitalization of world economy in general. Conclusions. Digital technologies radically change all spheres of social production and social life, including business and managerial processes at all levels. Digital technologies are constantly developing and modifying, that promotes emergence of new spheres and new business activities and management. 21st century witnessed establishing digital economy, smart economy, circular economy, green economy and other various arrangements of social production which are based on digital technologies. Social production digitalization and innovative digital technologies promotes business with flexible systems of arrangement and management, production and sales grounded on processing large Big Data permanently, on the basis of online monitoring in real time. Grounded on digital technologies business in real time mode processes a massive Big Data and on their results makes smart decisions in all business spheres and business processes management. Radical shifts in social production digitalization provides businesses of the states which in practice introduce digital technologies with significant competitive advantages - from decrease in goods and services production cost to targeted meeting of specific needs of consumers. Whereas, rapid introduction of digital technologies in the countries-leaders of world economic development results in a set of system socio-economic and socio-political challenges, including the following: crucial reformatting the world labour market and rise in mass unemployment, shift from traditional export developing countries’ specialization, breakups of traditional production networks being in force since the end of the 20th century, so called ‘chains of additional value shaping’, breakups of traditional cooperation links among world countries and shaping the new ones based on ‘Industry 4.0’ and ‘Industrial Internet’. Socio-economic and political consequences of radical structural reformation of all spheres in national and world economy in the 21st century, undoubtedly, will be stipulated with the processes of social production digitalization. It will require further systemic and fundamental scientific studies on this complicated and multi hierarchical process.

Language skills are significant predictors of early academic and social-emotional outcomes of children and are important predictors of school readiness. This study aims to improve children's language skills through the application of mind mapping learning methods. This classroom action research used Kemmis and Taggart's cycle model. The research subjects were 12 children in group B consisting of eight boys and four girls. The data was collected through observation, interviews, and documentation with the validity of the data using source triangulation and method triangulation. This research uses data analysis techniques in the form of data condensation, data presentation, and drawing conclusions. The results showed that the children's language skills through the application of the mind mapping method in the first cycle were 75%, and in the second cycle had increased to 92%. Based on the results of teacher observations in the implementation of cycle I, the children's language skills obtained a percentage value of 61.5%, and in cycle II increased to 92.3%. While the results of observations of children's activities in the implementation of the first cycle obtained a percentage of 54%, and in the second cycle, it increased to 85%. This study found that the teacher's assessment of this mind mapping method was an easy method to understand so that it was easy to apply in classroom learning. The implication of this research is that it is necessary to carry out further research on the application of the mind mapping method for other aspects of development. Keywords: Early Childhood, language Skills, Mind Mapping Learning Methods References: Abi-El-Mona, I., & Adb-El-Khalick, F. (2008). The influence of mind mapping on eighth graders’ science achievement. 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IntroductionAs the teaching staff working in a university postgraduate program—the Graduate Certificate of Creative Industries (Creative Practice) at Central Queensland University, Australia—an ongoing concern has been to ensure our students engage with the digital course content (delivered via the Moodle learning management system). This is an issue shared across the sector (La Pointe and Reisetter; Dargusch et al.) and, in our case, specifically in the area of students understanding how this online course content and tasks could benefit them in a program that is based around individual projects. As such, we are invested in enhancing student engagement both within the framework of this individual program and at an institution level. Like many institutions which now offer degrees which are either partially or fully online, the program in question offers a blended learning environment, with internal students also expected to engage with online materials (Rovai and Jordan; Colis and Moonen). The program was developed in 2011, first offered in 2012, and conducted two and sometimes three terms a year since then.Within the first year of delivery, low levels of student participation in online learning were identified as problematic. This issue was addressed using strategies that made use of characteristic strengths among our creative industries students, by developing and linking a peer-to-peer mentoring approach to our blended learning course design. Our challenge in this (as project facilitators and as teachers) has been to devise strategies to shift the students from reluctant to engaged online content users. A key strategy has evolved around introducing peer-mentoring as an intrinsic behaviour in the courses in the program. While not using a full case study approach, we do offer this singular instance for consideration as “much can be learned from a particular case” (Merriam 51). The below is based on our own observations, together with formal and informal student feedback gathered since 2012.Mentors and MentoringThe term mentor can have different meanings depending on the context in which the phrase is used. Ambrosetti and Dekkers note that “it is evident from the literature that there is no single definition for mentoring” (42). Drawing on an array of literature from a number of disciplines to qualify the definition of the term mentoring, Ambrosetti and Dekkers have identified a series of theorists whose definitions demonstrate the wide-ranging interpretation of what this act might be. Interestingly, they found that, even within the relatively narrow context of pre-service teacher research, words used to identify the term mentor varied from relatively collegial descriptors for the established teacher such as supporter, friend, collaborator, role model, and protector, to more formalised roles including trainer, teacher, assessor, and evaluator. The role to be played by a mentor—and how it is described—can also vary according to parameters around, and the purpose of, the mentoring relationship. That is, even though “mentoring, as described in literature, generally involves supporting and providing feedback to the mentee without judgment or criteria” (43), the dynamics of the mentor-mentee relationship may influence the perception and the nature of these roles. For example, the mentoring relationship between a teacher and pre-service teacher may be perceived as hierarchical whereby knowledge and feedback is “passed down” from mentor to mentee, that is, from a more authoritative, experienced figure to a less knowledgeable recipient. As such, this configuration implies a power imbalance between the roles.The relationships involved in peer-to-peer mentoring can be similarly defined. In fact, Colvin and Ashman describe the act of peer-mentoring as “a more experienced student helping a less experienced student improve overall academic performance”, and a relationship that “provides advice, support, and knowledge to the mentee” (122). Colvin and Ashman’s research also suggests that “if mentors and mentees do not have a clear sense of their roles and responsibilities, mentors will find it difficult to maintain any sort of self‐efficacy” (122)—a view that is held by others researchers in this field (see Hall et al.; Reid; Storrs, Putsche and Taylor). However, this collective view of peer-to-peer mentorship was not what we aimed to foster. Instead, we wanted our courses and program to both exhibit and inculcate practices and processes which we felt are more in line with our understanding of the creative industries, including a more organic, voluntary and non-hierarchical approach to peer-to-peer mentorship. This could use Ambrosetti and Dekker’s less hierarchical descriptors of supporter, friend, and collaborator listed above.Student CohortThe student cohort in this program regularly includes on-campus and distance education students in approximately equal ratios, with those studying by distance often geographically very widely dispersed across Australia, and sometimes internationally. The students in this program come from a diverse spectrum of creative industries’ art forms, including creative writing, digital media, film, music, and visual arts. Most enter the program with advanced skills, undergraduate or equivalent qualifications and/or considerable professional experience in their individual areas of creative practice and are seeking to add a postgraduate-level of understanding and scholarly extension to this practice (Kroll and Brien; Webb and Brien). Students also utilise a wide range of learning styles and approaches when developing and completing the creative works and research-informed reflective reports which comprise their assessment. All the students in the program’s courses utilise, and contribute to, a single online Moodle site each term. Some also wish to progress to research higher degree study in creative practice-led research projects (Barrett and Bolt) after completing the program.Applying Peer-to-Peer Mentoring in a Project-Based ProgramThe student cohort in this program is diverse, both geographically and in terms of the area of individual creative industries’ specialisation and the actual project that each student is working on. This diversity was a significant factor in the complexity of the challenge of how to make the course online site and its contents and tasks (required and optional) relevant and engaging for all students. We attempted to achieve this, in part, by always focusing on content and tasks directly related to the course learning outcomes and assessment tasks, so that their usefulness and authenticity in terms of the student learning journey was, we hoped, obvious to students. While this is a common practice in line with foundational conceptions of effective learning and teaching in higher education, we also proposed that we might be able to insure that course content was accessed and engaged with, and tasks completed, by linking the content and tasks in Moodle to the action of mentoring. In this, students were encouraged to discuss their projects in the online discussion forum throughout the term. This began with students offering brief descriptions of their projects as they worked through the project development stage, to reports on progress including challenges and problems as well as achievements. Staff input to these discussions offered guidance—both through example and (at times) gentle direction—on how students could also give collegial advice to other students on their projects. This was in terms of student knowledge and experience gained from previous work plus that learned during the program. In this, students reported on their own activities and how learning gained could potentially be used in other professional fields, as for example: “I specifically enjoyed the black out activity and found the online videos exceptional, inspiring and innovating. I really enjoyed this activity and it was something that I can take away and use within the classroom when educating” (‘Student 1’, week 8, Term 1 2015). Students also gave advice for others to follow: “I understand that this may not have been the original intended goal of Free Writing—but it is something I would highly recommend … students to try and see if it works for you” (‘Student 2’, week 5, Term 1 2015). As each term progressed, and trust built up—a key aspect of online collaboration (Holton) as well as a fruitful mentoring relationship (Allen and Poteet)—joint problem solving also began to take place in these discussions.As most of the students never interact face-to-face during the term, the relative impersonality of the online discussions in Moodle, although certainly not anonymous, seemed to provide a safe platform for peer-to-peer mentoring, even when this was offered by those who were also interacting in class as well. As facilitators of this process, we also sought to model best-practice interaction in this communication and ensure that any posts were responded to in an encouraging and timely manner (Aragon). As a result, the traffic within these forums generally increased each week so that, by the end of the term, every student (both external and internal) had contributed significantly to online discussions—even those who appeared to be more reluctant participants in the beginning weeks of the term. Strategies to Facilitate Peer-to-Peer MentoringSeeking to facilitate this process, we identified discrete points within the term’s course delivery at which we would encourage a greater level of engagement with the online resources and, through this, also encourage more discussion in the online discussion forum. One of the strategies we employed was to introduce specific interactions as compulsory components of the course but, at the same time, always ensuring that these mandated interactions related directly to assessment items. For example, a key assessment task requires students to write reflectively about their creative work and processes. We duly included information and examples of reflective writing as resources online. In order to further develop this skill for both internal and external students, we adopted an active and iterative learning approach to this task by asking students to write reflectively, each week, about the online resources provided to them. In asking students to do this, we reiterated that, at the end of term, a core part of the assessment item was that each student would be asked to describe, analyse and reflect on how they used these resources to facilitate their creative practice. At the end of the term, therefore, each student could collate his or her weekly responses, and use these as part of this assessment task. However, before this final reflection needed to be completed, these reflective musings were already being refined and extended as a result of the commentaries offered by other students responding to these weekly reflections. In this, these commenting students were, in fact, playing the role of peer-to-peer mentors, assisting each other to enhance their abilities in reflective thinking and writing.It should be stated that neither formal mentoring roles nor expectations of the process or its outcomes were pre-determined, defined or outlined to students by the teaching staff or communicated directly to them in any way (such as via the course materials). Instead, internal and distance students were encouraged to communicate with each other and offer guidance, help and support to each other (but which was never described as peer-to-peer mentorship) via their use of the Moodle learning managements system as both a group communication tool and a collaborative learning resource (Dixon, Dixon and Axmann). It is common for creative practitioners to collect data in the form of objects, resources, tools, and memories in order to progress their work and this habit has been termed that of the “bowerbird” (Brady). Knowing that it likely that many of our students are already proficient bowerbirds with many resources in their personal collections, we also facilitated a peer-to-peer mentoring activity in the form of an online competition. This competition asked students to post their favourite interactive resource onto the Moodle site, accompanied by a commentary explaining why and how it could be used. Many students engaged with these peer-posted resources and then, in turn, posted reflections on their usefulness, or not, for their own personal practice and learning. This, in turn, engendered more resources to be posted, shared, and discussed in terms of project problem-solving and, thus, became another ongoing activity that encouraged students to act as increasingly valued peer-mentors to each other.The Practical Application of Peer-to-Peer MentoringEach term, it is a course requirement that the student cohort, both internal and external, combine to create a group outcome—an exhibition of their creative work (Sturm, Beckton and Brien). For some students, the work exhibited is completed; for others, particularly part-time students, the work shown is frequently still in progress. Given that the work in the student exhibition regularly includes music and creative writing as well as visual art, this activity forces students to engage with their peers in ways that most of them have not previously encountered. This interaction includes communication across the internal and distance members of the cohort to determine what work will be included in the exhibition, and how work will be sent for display by external students, as well as liaising in relation to range of related considerations including: curatorial (what the exhibition will be named, and how work is to be displayed), cataloguing (how the works, and their contributors, are to be described), and the overall design of the catalogue and invitation (Sturm, Beckton and Brien). Students make these decisions, as a group, with guidance from staff mainly being offered in terms of practical information (such as what days and times the exhibition space can be accessed) and any limitations due to on-site health and safety considerations and other university-wide regulations.Student feedback has been very positive in relation to this aspect of the course (Sturm, Beckton and Brien), and its collective nature is often remarked on in both formal and informal feedback. We are also finding that some prospective students are applying to the program with a knowledge of this group exhibition and some information about how it is achieved. After graduation, students have reported that this experience of peer-to-peer working across the spectrum of creative industries’ art forms has given them a confidence that they were able to apply in real work situations and has, moreover been a factor that directly led to relevant employment. One student offered in unsolicited feedback: “It was a brilliant course that I gained a lot from. One year on, I have since released another single and work as an artist manager, independently running campaigns for other artists. The course also helped make me more employable as well, and I now work … as a casual admin and projects officer” (Student 3, 2015).Issues Arising from Peer-to-Peer MentoringAn intrinsic aspect of facilitating and encouraging this peer-to-peer mentoring was to allow a degree of latitude in relation to student online communication. The week-to-week reflection on the online resources was, for instance, the only mandated activity. Other participation was modeled and encouraged, but left to students as to how often and when they participated, as well as the length of their posts. In each term, we have found student involvement in discussions increased throughout the term, and tended to exceed our expectations in both quantity and quality of posts.We have also found that the level of intimate detail offered, and intimacy developed, in the communications was far greater than we had initially anticipated, and that there were occasions when students raised personal issues. Initially, we were apprehensive about this, particularly when one student discussed past mental health challenges. At the time, we discussed that the creative arts – whether in terms of its creation or appreciation – are highly personal practices (Sternberg), and that the tone taken by many of the creative individuals, theorists, and researchers whose materials we use as resources was often personally revealing (see, for example, Brien and Brady). By not interfering, other than ensuring that the tone students used with each other was always respectful and focused on the professional aspects of what was being discussed, we observed that this personal revelation translated into high levels of engagement in the discussions, and indeed, encouraged peer support and understanding. Thus, in terms of the student who revealed information about past health issues and who at one stage had considered withdrawing from the course, this student later related to staff—in an unsolicited communication—that these discussions led to him feeling well supported. This student has, moreover, continued to work on related creative practice projects after completing the program and, indeed, is now considering continuing onto Masters level studies.ConclusionIn relation to much of the literature of mentoring, this experience of student interaction with others through an online discussion board appears to offer a point of difference. While that literature reports on other examples of peer-to-peer mentoring, most of these follow the seemingly more usual vertical mentoring model (that is, one which is hierarchical), rather than what developed organically in our case as a more horizontal mode. This is, moreover, a mode which has many synergies with the community of practice and collaborative problem solving models which are central to the creative industries (Brien and Bruns).Collings, Swanson, and Watkins have reported on the positive impact of peer mentoring on student wellbeing, integration, and retention. In terms of effects and student outcomes, although we have not yet collected data on these aspects of this activity, our observations together with informal and University-solicited feedback suggests that this peer-to-peer mentoring was useful (in terms of their project work) and affirming and confidence-building (personally and professionally) for students who are both mentors and mentees. These peer-to-peer mentoring activities assisted in developing, and was encouraged by, an atmosphere in which students felt it was appropriate and safe to both offer support and critique of each others’ work and ideas, as well as encouragement when students felt discouraged or creatively blocked. Students, indeed, reported in class and online that this input assisted them in moving through their projects and, as program staff, we saw that that this online space created a place where collaborative problem-solving could be engaged in as the need arose—rather than in a more forced manner. As teachers, we also found these students became our post-graduate colleagues in the way more usually experienced in the doctoral supervisor-student relationship (Dibble and Loon).The above reports on a responsive learning and teaching strategy that grew out of our understanding of our students’ needs that was, moreover, in line with our institution’s imperatives. 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Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1988.Sturm, Ulrike, Denise Beckton, and Donna Lee Brien. “Curation on Campus: An Exhibition Curatorial Experiment for Creative Industries Students.” M/C Journal 18.4 (2015). 12 Feb. 2016 <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/view/1000>.Webb, Jen, and Donna Lee Brien. “Preparing Graduates for Creative Futures: Australian Creative Arts Programs in a Globalising Society.” Partnerships for World Graduates: AIC (Academia, Industry and Community) 2007 Conference. Melbourne: RMIT, 28–30 November 2007.

The relationship between humans and language is referred to as sociolinguistic. The language used by humans is as diverse as the variety of formal language used when someone has a higher level or when in certain formal events, then there is a variety of casual language or familiar variety, which is also called slang. The object of his research is the novel "The Fault in Our Stars" by John Green. Therefore, the researcher tries to analyze the types of slang and what meanings are used by the author in the book by using theory from Allan and Burridge, and theory from Leech. The results of the study found that the most dominant type used by the author was the Fresh Creative type because the researcher found a lot of new words in this novel. While, the classification of the type of meaning is the most dominant type found in this novel, namely stylistic meaning because this type is heavily influenced by the social environment.

I want to argue here that the use of terms like “disabled” has very concrete and practical consequences; such language choices are significant and constitutive, not simply the abstract subject of a theoretical debate or a “politically correct” storm in a teacup. In this paper I want to examine some significant moments of conflict over and resistance to definitions of “disability” in an arts project, “In the Picture”, run by one of the UK’s largest disability charities, Scope. In the words of its webpages, this project “aims to encourage publishers, illustrators and writers to embrace diversity - so that disabled children are included alongside others in illustrations and story lines in books for young readers” (http://www.childreninthepicture.org.uk/aboutus.htm). It sought to raise awareness of “ableism” in the book world and through its webpage, offer practical advice and examples of how to include disabled children in illustrated children’s books. From 2005 to 2007, I tracked the progress of the project’s Stories strand, which sought to generate exemplary inclusive narratives by drawing on the experiences of disabled people and families of disabled children. My research drew on participant observation and interviews, but also creative audience research — a process where, in the words of David Gauntlett, “participants are asked to create media or artistic artefacts themselves.” Consequently, when I’m talking here about definitions of “disability’, I am discussing not just the ways people talk about what the word “disabled” might mean, but also the ways in which such identities might appear in images. These definitions made a real difference to those participating in various parts of the project and the types of inclusive stories they produced. Scope has been subject to substantial critique from the disability movement in the past (Benjamin; Carvel; Shakespeare, "Sweet Charity"). “In the Picture” was part of an attempt to resituate the charity as a campaigning organization (Benjamin; O’Hara), with the campaign’s new slogan “Time to get Equal” appearing prominently at the top of each page of the project’s website. As a consequence the project espoused the social model of disability, with its shift in focus from individual peoples’ bodily differences, towards the exclusionary and unequal society that systematically makes those differences meaningful. This shift in focus generates, some have argued, a performative account of disability as an identity (Sandhal; Breivik). It’s not simply that non-normative embodiment or impairment can be (and often is) acquired later in life, meaning that non-disabled people are perhaps best referred to as TABs — the “temporarily able bodied” (Duncan, Goggin and Newell). More significantly, what counts as a “disabled person” is constituted in particular social, physical and economic environments. Changing that environment can, in essence, create a disabled person, or make a person cease to be dis-abled. I will argue that, within the “In the Picture” project, this radically constructionist vision of disablement often rubbed against more conventional understandings of the term “disabled people”. In the US, the term “people with disabilities” is favoured as a label, because of its “people first” emphasis, as well as its identification of an oppressed minority group (Haller, Dorries and Rahn, 63; Shakespeare, Disability Rights). In contrast, those espousing the social model of disability in the UK tend to use the phrase “disabled people”. This latter term can flag the fact that disability is not something emanating from individuals’ bodily differences, but a social process by which inaccessible environments disable particular people (Oliver, Politics). From this point of view the phrase “people with disabilities” might appear to ascribe the disability to the individual rather than the society — it suggests that it is the people who “have” the disability, not the society which disables. As Helen Meekosha has pointed out, Australian disability studies draws on both US civil rights languages and the social model as understood in the UK. While I’ve chosen to adopt the British turn of phrase here, the broader concept from an Australian point of view, is that the use of particular sets of languages is no simple key to the perspectives adopted by individual speakers. My observations suggest that the key phrase used in the project — “ disabled people” — is one that, we might say, “passes”. To someone informed by the social model it clearly highlights a disabling society. However, it is a phrase that can be used without obvious miscommunication to talk to people who have not been exposed to the social model. Someone who subscribes to a view of “disability” as impairment, as a medical condition belonging to an individual, might readily use the term “disabled people”. The potentially radical implications of this phrase are in some ways hidden, unlike rival terms like “differently abled”, which might be greeted with mockery in some quarters (eg. Purvis; Parris). This “passing” phrase did important work for the “In the Picture” project. As many disability activists have pointed out, “charity” and “concern” for disabled people is a widely espoused value, playing a range of important psychic roles in an ableist society (eg. Longmore; Hevey). All the more evocative is a call to support disabled children, a favoured object of the kinds of telethons and other charitable events which Longmore discusses. In the words of Rosemarie Garland Thomson, the sentimentality often used in charity advertising featuring children “contains disability’s threat in the sympathetic, helpless child for whom the viewer is empowered to act” (Garland Thomson, 63). In calling for publishers to produce picture books which included disabled children, the project had invested in this broad appeal — who could argue against such an agenda? The project has been successful, for example, in recruiting support from many well known children’s authors and illustrators, including Quentin Blake and Dame Jackie Wilson. The phrase “disabled children”, I would argue, smoothed the way for such successes by enabling the project to graft progressive ideas —about the need for adequate representation of a marginalized group — onto existing conceptions of an imagined recipient needing help from an already constituted group of willing givers. So what were the implications of using the phrase “disabled children” for the way the project unfolded? The capacity of this phrase to refer to both a social model account of disability and more conventional understandings had an impact on the recruitment of participants for writing workshops. Participants were solicited via a range of routes. Some were contacted through the charity’s integrated pre-school and the networks of the social workers working beside it. The workshops were also advertised via a local radio show, through events run by the charity for families of disabled people, through a notice in the Disabled Parents site, and announcements on the local disability arts e- newsletter. I am interested in the way that those who heard about the workshops might have been hailed by —or resisted the lure of — those labels “disabled person” or “parent of a disabled child” or at least the meaning of those labels when used by a large disability charity. For example, despite a workshop appearing on the programme of Northwest Disability Arts’ Deaf and Disability Arts Festival, no Deaf participants became involved in the writing workshops. Some politicised Deaf communities frame their identities as an oppressed linguistic minority of sign language users, rather than as disabled people (Corker; Ladd). As such, I would suggest that they are not hailed by the call to “disabled people” with which the project was framed, despite the real absence of children’s books drawing on Deaf culture and its rich tradition of visual communication (Saunders; Conlon and Napier). Most of those who attended were (non-disabled) parents or grandparents of disabled children, rather than disabled people, a fact critiqued by some participants. It’s only possible to speculate about the reasons for this imbalance. Was it the reputation of this charity or charities in general (see Shakespeare, "Sweet Charity") amongst politicised disabled people that discouraged attendance? A shared perspective with those within the British disabled peoples’ movement who emphasise the overwhelming importance of material changes in employment, education, transport rather than change in the realm of “attitudes” (eg Oliver, Politics)? Or was it the association of disabled people undertaking creative activities with a patronising therapeutic agenda (eg Hevey, 26)? The “pulling power” of a term even favoured by the British disability movement, it seems, might be heavily dependent on who was using it. Nonetheless, this term did clearly speak to some people. In conversation it emerged that most of those who attended the workshops either had young family members who were disabled or were imbricated in educational and social welfare networks that identified them as “disabled” — for example, by having access to Disability Living Allowance. While most of the disabled children in participants’ families were in mainstream education, most also had an educational “statement” enabling them to access extra resources, or were a part of early intervention programmes. These social and educational institutions had thus already hailed them as “families of disabled children” and as such they recognised themselves in the project’s invitation. Here we can see the social and institutional shaping of what counts as “disabled children” in action. One participant who came via an unusual route into the workshops provides an interesting reflection of the impact of an address to “disabled people”. This man had heard about the workshop because the local charity he ran had offices adjacent to the venue of one of the workshops. He started talking to the workshop facilitator, and as he said in an interview, became interested because “well … she mentioned that it was about disabilities and I’m interested in people’s disabilities – I want to improve conditions for them obviously”. I probed him about the relationship between his interest and his own experiences as a person with dyslexia. While he taught himself to read in his thirties, he described his reading difficulties as having ongoing impacts on his working life. He responded: first of all it wasn’t because I have dyslexia, it was because I’m interested in improving people’s lives in general. So, I mean particularly people who are disabled need more care than most of us don’t they? …. and I’d always help whenever I can, you know what I mean. And then thinking that I had a disability myself! The dramatic double-take at the end of this comment points to the way this respondent positions himself throughout as outside of the category of “disabled”. This self- identification points towards the stigma often attached to the category “disabled”. It also indicates the way in which this category is, at least in part, socially organised, such that people can be in various circumstances located both inside and outside it. In this writer’s account “people who are disabled” are “them” needing “more care than most of us”. Here, rather than identifying as a disabled person, imagined as a recipient of support, he draws upon the powerful discourses of charity in a way that positions him giving to and supporting others. The project appealed to him as a charity worker and as a campaigner, and indeed a number of other participants (both “disabled” and “non-disabled”) framed themselves in this way, looking to use their writing as a fundraising tool, for example, or as a means of promoting more effective inclusive education. The permeability of the category of “disabled” presented some challenges in the attempt to solicit “disabled peoples’” voices within the project. This was evident when completed stories came to be illustrated by design, illustration and multimedia students at four British universities: Liverpool John Moores University, the University of Wolverhampton, the University of Teeside and the North East Wales Institute. Students attending an initial briefing on the project completed a questionnaire which included an item asking whether they considered themselves to be disabled. While around eight of the eighty respondents answered “yes” to this question, the answers of these students and some others were by no means clear cut. A number of students identified themselves as dyslexic, but contested the idea that this diagnosis meant that they were disabled. One respondent commented along similar lines: “My boyfriend was very upset that the university considers him to be disabled because he is dyslexic”. How can we make sense of these responses? We could note again that the identity of “disabled” is highly stigmatised. Many disabled students believe that they are seen as lazy, demanding excessive resources, or even in the case of some students with non- visible impairments, lying (Kleege; Olney and Brockman). So we could view such responses as identity management work. From this point of view, an indicator of the success of the project in shifting some of the stigma attached to the label of “disabled” might be the fact that at least one of the students participants “came out” as dyslexic to her tutors in the course of her participation in the project. The pattern of answers on questionnaire returns suggests that particular teaching strategies and administrative languages shape how students imagine and describe themselves. Liverpool John Moores University, one of the four art schools participating in the project, had a high profile programme seeking to make dyslexic students aware of the technical and writing support available to them if they could present appropriate medical certification (Lowy). Questionnaires from LJMU included the largest number of respondents identifying themselves as both disabled and dyslexic, and featured no comment on any mismatch between these labels. In the interests of obtaining appropriate academic support and drawing on a view of dyslexia not as a deficit but as a learning style offering significant advantages, it might be argued, students with dyslexia at this institution had been taught to recognise themselves through the label “disabled”. This acknowledgement that people sharing some similar experiences might describe themselves in very different ways depending on their context suggests another way of interpreting some students’ equivocal relationship to labels like “dyslexia” and “disabled”. The university as an environment demanding the production of very formal styles of writing and rapid assimilation of a high volume of written texts, is one where particular learning strategies of people with dyslexia come to be disabling. In many peoples’ day to day lives – and perhaps particularly in the day to day lives of visual artists – less conventional ways of processing written information simply may not be disabling. As such, students’ responses might be seen less as resistance to a stigmatised identity and more an acknowledgement of the contingent nature of disablement. Or perhaps we might understand these student responses as a complex mix of both of these perspectives. Disability studies has pointed to the coexistence of contradictory discourses around disability within popular culture (eg, Garland-Thomson; Haller, Dorries and Rahn). Similarly, the friezes, interactive games, animations, illustrated books and stand-alone images which came out of this arts project sometimes incorporate rival conceptions of disability side by side. A number of narratives, for example, include pairs of characters, one of which embodies conventional narratives of disability (for example, being diagnostically labelled or ‘cured’), while the other articulates alternative accounts (celebrating diversity and enabling environments). Both students and staff reported that participation in the project prompted critical thinking about accessible design and inclusive representation. Some commented in interviews that their work on the project had changed their professional practice in ways they thought might have longer term impact on the visual arts. However, it is clear that in student work, just as in the project itself, alternative conceptions of what “disability” might mean were at play, even as reframing such conceptions are explicitly the aim of the enterprise. Such contradictions point towards the difficulties of easily labelling individual stories or indeed the wider project “progressive” or otherwise. Some illustrated narratives and animations created by students were understood by the project management to embody the definitions of “disabled children” within the project’s ten principles. This work was mounted on the website to serve as exemplars for the publishing industry (http://www.childreninthepicture.org.uk/stories.htm). Such decisions were not unreflective, however. There was a good deal of discussion by students and project management about how to make “disabled children” visible without labelling or pathologising. For example, one of the project’s principles is that “images of disabled children should be used casually or incidentally, so that disabled children are portrayed playing and doing things alongside their non- disabled peers” (see also Bookmark). Illustrator Jane Ray commented wryly in an article on the website on her experience of including disabled characters in a such a casual way in her published work that no-one notices it! (Ray). As I’ve discussed in more detail elsewhere (Matthews, forthcoming), the social model, espoused by the project, with its primary focus on barriers to equality rather than individual impaired bodies, presented some challenges to such aims. While both fairytales and, increasingly, contemporary books for young people, do sometimes engage with violence, marginalisation and social conflict (Saunders), there is a powerful imperative to avoid such themes in books for very young children. In trying to re-narrativise disabled children outside conventional paradigms of “bravery overcoming adversity”, the project may have also pushed writers and illustrators away from engaging with barriers to equality. The project manager commented in an interview: “probably in the purest form the social model would show in stories the barriers facing disabled children, whereas we want to show what barriers have been knocked down and turn it round into a more positive thing”. While a handful of the 23 stories emerging from the writing workshops included narratives around bullying and or barriers to equal access, many of the stories chose to envisage more utopian, integrated environments. If it is barriers to inequality that, at least in part, create “disabled people”, then how is it possible to identify disabled children with little reference to such barriers? The shorthand used by many student illustrators, and frequently too in the “images for inspiration” part of the project’s website, has been the inclusion of enabling technologies. A white cane, a wheelchair or assistive and augmentative communication technologies can be included in an image without making a “special” point of these technologies in the written text. The downside to this shorthand, however, is the way that the presence of these technologies can serve to naturalise the category of “disabled children”. Rather than being seen as a group identity constituted by shared experiences of discrimination and exclusion, the use of such “clues” to which characters “are disabled” might suggest that disabled people are a known group, independent of particular social and environmental settings. Using this arts project as a case study, I have traced here some of the ways people are recognised or recognise themselves as “disabled”. I’ve also suggested that within this project other conceptions of what “disabled” might mean existed in the shadows of the social constructionist account to which it declared its allegiances. Given the critiques of the social model which have emerged within disability studies over the last fifteen years (e.g. Crowe; Shakespeare, Disability Rights), this need not be a damning observation. The manager of this arts project, along with writer Mike Oliver ("If I Had"), has suggested that the social model might be used strategically as a means of social transformation rather than a complete account of disabled peoples’ lives. However, my analysis here has suggested that we can not only imagine different ways that “disabled people” might be conceptualised in the future. Rather we can see significant consequences of the different ways that the label “disabled” is mobilised here and now. Its inclusion and exclusions, what it makes it easy to say or difficult to imagine needs careful thinking through. References Benjamin, Alison. “Going Undercover.” The Guardian, Society, April 2004: 8. Bookmark. Quentin Blake Award Project Report: Making Exclusion a Thing of the Past. The Roald Dahl Foundation, 2006. Breivik, Jan Kare. “Deaf Identities: Visible Culture, Hidden Dilemmas and Scattered Belonging.” In H.G. Sicakkan and Y.G. Lithman, eds. What Happens When a Society Is Diverse: Exploring Multidimensional Identities. Lewiston, New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 2006. 75-104. Carvel, John. “Demonstrators Rattle Scope.” The Guardian, Society section, 6 Oct. 2004: 4. Conlon, Caroline, and Jemina Napier. “Developing Auslan Educational Resources: A Process of Effective Translation of Children’s Books.” Deaf Worlds 20.2. (2004): 141-161. Corker, Mairian. Deaf and Disabled or Deafness Disabled. Buckingham: Open University Press, 1998. Crow, Liz. “Including All of Our Lives: Renewing the Social Model of Disability.” In Jenny Morris, ed. Encounters with Strangers: Feminism and Disability. Women’s Press, 1996. 206-227. Davis, John, and Nick Watson. “Countering Stereotypes of Disability: Disabled Children and Resistance.” In Mairian Corker and Tom Shakespeare, eds. Disability/Postmodernity: Embodying Disability Theory. London: Continuum, 2002. 159-174. Duncan, Kath, Gerard Goggin, and Christopher Newell. “Don’t Talk about Me… like I’m Not Here: Disability in Australian National Cinema.” Metro Magazine 146-147 (2005): 152-159. Garland Thomson, Rosemarie. “The Politics of Staring: Visual Rhetorics of Disability in Popular Photography.” In Sharon L. Snyder, Brenda Jo Bruggemann, and Rosemarie Garland Thomson, eds. Disability Studies: Enabling the Humanities. New York: MLAA, 2002. 56-75. Gauntlett, David. “Using Creative Visual Research Methods to Understand Media Audiences.” MedienPädagogik 4.1 (2005). Haller, Beth, Bruce Dorries, and Jessica Rahn. “Media Labeling versus the US Disability Community Identity: A Study of Shifting Cultural Language.” In Disability & Society 21.1 (2006): 61-75. Hevey, David. The Creatures Time Forgot: Photography and Disability Imagery. London: Routledge, 1992. Kleege, Georgia. “Disabled Students Come Out: Questions without Answers.” In Sharon Snyder, Brenda Jo Brueggeman, and Rosemarie Garland Thomson, eds. Disability Studies: Enabling the Humanities. New York: Modern Language Association of America, 2002. 308-316. Ladd, Paddy. Understanding Deaf Culture: In Search of Deafhood. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters, 2003. Longmore, Paul. “Conspicuous Contribution and American Cultural Dilemma: Telethon Rituals of Cleansing and Renewal.” In David T. Mitchell and Sharon L. Snyder, eds. The Body and Physical Difference: Discourses of Disability. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1997. 134-158. Lowy, Adrienne. “Dyslexia: A Different Approach to Learning?” JMU Learning and Teaching Press 2.2 (2002). Matthews, Nicole. “Contesting Representations of Disabled Children in Picture Books: Visibility, the Body and the Social Model of Disability.” Children’s Geographies (forthcoming). Meekosha, Helen. “Drifting Down the Gulf Stream: Navigating the Cultures of Disability Studies.” Disability & Society 19.7 (2004): 720-733. O’Hara, Mary. “Closure Motion.” The Guardian, Society section, 30 March 2005: 10. Oliver, Mike. The politics of Disablement. London: Macmillan, 1990. ———. “If I Had a Hammer: The Social Model in Action.” In John Swain, Sally French, Colin Barnes, and Carol Thomas, eds. Disabling Barriers – Enabling Environments. London: Sage, 2002. 7-12. Olney, Marjorie F., and Karin F. Brockelman. "Out of the Disability Closet: Strategic Use of Perception Management by Select University Students with Disabilities." Disability & Society 18.1 (2003): 35-50. Parris, Matthew. “Choose Your Words Carefully If You Want to Be Misunderstood.” The Times 10 July 2004. Purves, Libby. “Handicap, What Handicap?” The Times 9 Aug. 2003. Ray, Jane. “An Illustrator’s View: Still Invisible.” In the Picture. < http://www.childreninthepicture.org.uk/au_illustrateview.htm >.Sandhal, Carrie. “Queering the Crip or Cripping the Queer: Intersections of Queer and Crip Identities in Solo Autobiographical Performance.” GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies 9.1-2 (2003): 25-56. Saunders, Kathy. Happy Ever Afters: A Storybook Guide to Teaching Children about Disability. London: Trenton Books, 2000. Shakespeare, Tom. “Sweet Charity?” 2 May 2003. Ouch! < (http://www.bbc.co.uk/ouch/features/charity.shtml >. Shakespeare, Tom. Disability Rights and Wrongs. London: Routledge, 2006.

E-working undergoes a facelift. Its present extent and format are extending to (re)define the future of workplaces. The consequences of the sudden arrival COVID-19 pandemic are not fully understood yet, because a radical evolution of work is still running. Over the past few months, nearly every organization seems to have implemented its e-working practices. Some of them contradict each other, which may lead to confusion and disharmony. It opens the question of creating and developing optimal e-worker-friendly environments. On 11 May 2020, the authors of the paper launched an online survey to gather important data to determine how workers of different subsidiaries of an international organization were coping with this sudden change. In 154 responses, they shared their feelings on the recent workplace challenges as well as future perspectives. In the survey, the respondents and their workplaces confirmed their quick adaption to e-working. More than half of them feel more productive at home than in the office. They indicate their preference for a smart casual dress code. More than one-third of respondents would like to extend working from home to a longer period (1-2 years). They see their subsidiaries not having developed a return-to-work strategy as a problem. Another big issue is the blurred line between personal and work life. Data provide strong evidence of the benefits of e-working and constitute a set of recommendations for this type of work in the future. The conclusions have been generalized to a model that can guide organizations in managing their e-working balanced and positively expanding.

Perception, action, and intrinsic motivation play an essential role in early development, promoting the creation and refinement of new and more complex forms of behaviors as infants try a range of sensorimotor patterns in their environment. I use the example of infants’ reaching to illustrate how goal-directed action emerges from the intersection of seemingly distinct visual and proprioceptive-tactile-motor spaces that form in the early months following birth. The intersection of these two spaces begins with a casual contingent event involving vision and action: when the hand happens to contact a target. This event, which marks the onset of reaching, provides new behavioral value, reinforces the motor action, and intrinsically motivates infants to attempt to reproduce the behavior. Subsequent repeated cycles of perception and action lead to the exploration of a range of motor responses and a progressive alignment of the visual space with the proprioceptive-tactile-motor space, ultimately fostering the selection and refinement of increasingly successful and refined reaching patterns. Extensive hands-on experience in the environment and learning about the immediate outcomes of actions play a critical role in shaping behavioral development.

RESUMO Introdução: Criado em março de 2009, o Programa Minha Casa, Minha Vida é considerado a maior política habitacional da história brasileira. Durante seus onze anos de execução, o Programa atravessou quatro mandatos presidenciais e teve a sua execução organizada em fases, modalidades e faixas de renda. A despeito de sua importância, mudanças nas conjunturas fiscal, política e econômica do país implicaram no enfraquecimento gradual do Programa, e em 2021 ele foi extinto. O artigo investiga o processo de desenvolvimento (policy process) do Programa Minha Casa, Minha Vida em suas diferentes etapas: criação, consolidação e extinção. Materiais e Métodos: Foram analisados artigos científicos, relatórios técnicos e textos de discussão sobre o Programa, além da legislação específica e notícias de imprensa. De forma complementar, fez-se um pedido de acesso à informação para obter dados quanto à execução do Programa. Os dados coletados abrangem o período entre março de 2009 e janeiro de 2021. Os itens considerados no estudo dos documentos foram: formação de agenda; formulação da política; implementação; avaliação; e extinção. Resultados: Desagregamos em subprocessos o processo decisório de um dos principais programas públicos recentes do Brasil, o que permitiu compreendê-lo em sua especificidade, evolução e contexto. O Programa se desenvolveu por interação com o seu ambiente, evoluindo de forma contingente. Esse processo foi incremental, com mudanças de escalas tanto operacionais quanto globais, e foi moldado por disputas e restrições políticas. O policy process foi constrangido pelas regras do jogo e pelas conjunturas político-econômicas. Essas conjunturas formaram o cenário das disputas entre atores, interesses e ideias. Discussão: O estudo demonstra, empiricamente, o desenvolvimento incremental das políticas públicas. Embora extinto, o “Minha Casa, Minha Vida” serviu de estrutura para o novo Programa, o “Casa Verde e Amarela”, o qual baseia seu arcabouço institucional em modalidades criadas pelo primeiro para beneficiários de maior renda, evidenciando o processo contínuo e interativo de ajustamento entre atores, instituições e ideias.

The accreditation of engineering design components of the curriculum is based upon a characterization of design as “… creative, iterative, and often open-ended …”1. The Universal Student Rating of Instruction (USRI) is based upon a composite of expectations including those involving: organization, detail in course outline, responses to questions, opportunities for assistance, evaluation methods, and perception of instruction. In this paper we examine the competing nature of these two characterizations. Even the most casual perusal of the questions posed by the USRI reveals that the premise underlying this instrument is one that clearly (albeit implicitly) points to a number of expectations. The nature of the subject matter, the nature of the learning process, the learning environment, the role of the student, that of the instructor, and that of the relationships between all of these are all assumed to benefit from adherence to a particular pre-ordained form. Specifically, the curriculum is perceived to consist of a body of facts, the learning process involves a transfer of these facts from instructor to student, the role of the student is passive, and responsibility for learning is the sole preserve of the instructor. The authors hold that this most sterile and simplistic set of expectations is fundamentally at odds with what should be happening in a design course. In this paper we juxtapose the nature of design and design learning with the teaching algorithm underlying the USRI.

Cultural Studies has tended to prioritise the domain of leisure and consumption over work as an area for meaning making, in many ways defining everyday life in opposition to work. Greg Noble, a cultural researcher who examined work in the context of the early computerisation of Australian universities made the point that "discussions of everyday life often make the mistake of assuming that everyday life equates with home and family life, or leisure" (87). This article argues for the need within Cultural Studies to focus on work and media as a research area of everyday life. With the growth of flexible and creative labour and the widespread uptake of an array of new media technologies used for work, traditional ways to identify and measure the space and time of work have become increasingly flawed, with implications for how we account for work and negotiate its boundaries. New approaches are needed to address the complex media environments and technological practices that are an increasing part of contemporary working life. Cultural Studies can make a significant impact towards this research agenda by offering new ways to analyse the complex interrelations of space, time and technology in everyday work practice. To further this goal, a new material practices account of work termed Officing is introduced, developed through my doctoral research on professionals' daily use of information and communication technology (ICT). This approach builds on the key cultural concepts of "bricolage" and "appropriation" combined with the idea of "articulation work" proposed by Anselm Strauss, to support the analysis of the office workplace as a contingent and provisional arrangement or process. Officing has a number of benefits as a framework for analysing the nature of work in a highly mediated world. Highlighting the labour that goes into stabilising work platforms makes it possible to assess the claims of productivity and improved work-life balance brought about by new mobile media technologies; to identify previously unidentified sources of time pressure, overwork and intensification and ultimately, to contribute to the design of more sustainable work environments. The Turn Away from Work Work held a central position in social and cultural analysis in the first half of the twentieth century but as Strangleman observed, there was a marked shift away from the study of work from the mid 1970s (3.1). Much of the impulse for this shift came from critiques of the over-emphasis on relations of production and the workplace as the main source of meaning and value (5.1). In line with this position, feminist researchers challenged the traditional division of labour into paid and unpaid work, arguing that this division sustained the false perception of domestic work as non-productive (cf. Delphy; Folbre). Accompanying these critiques were significant changes in work itself, as traditional jobs literally began to disappear with the decline of manufacturing in industrialised countries (6.1). With the turn away from work in academia and the changes in the nature of work, attention shifted to the realm of the market and consumption. One of the important contributions of Cultural Studies has been the focus on the role of the consumer in driving social and technological change and processes of identity formation. Yet, it is a major problem that work is largely marginalised in cultural research of everyday life, especially since, in most industrialised nations, we are working in new ways, in rapidly changing conditions and more than ever before. Research shows that in Australia there has been a steady increase in the average hours of paid work and Australians are working harder (cf. Watson, Buchanan, Campbell and Briggs; Edwards and Wajcman). In the 2008 Australian Work and Life Index (AWALI) Skinner and Pocock found around 55 per cent of employees frequently felt rushed or pressed for time and this was associated with long working hours, work overload and an overall poor work–life interaction (8). These trends have coincided with long-term changes in the type and location of work. In Australia, like many other developed countries, information-based occupations have taken over manufacturing jobs and there has been an increase in part-time and casual work (cf. Watson et al.). Many employees now conduct work outside of the traditional workplace, with the ABS reporting that in 2008, 24 per cent of employees worked at least some hours at home. Many social analysts have explained the rise of casual and flexible labour as related to the transition to global capitalism driven by the expansion of networked information processes (cf. Castells; Van Dijk). This shift is not simply that more workers are producing ideas and information but that the previously separated spheres of production and consumption have blurred (cf. Ritzer and Jurgenson). With this, entirely new industries have sprung up, predicated on the often unpaid for creative labour of individuals, including users of media technologies. A growing chorus of writers are now pointing out that a fragmented, polarised and complex picture is emerging of this so-called "new economy", with significant implications for the quality of work (cf. Edwards and Wajcman; Fudge and Owens; Huws). Indeed, some claim that new conditions of insecure and poor quality employment or "precarious work" are fast becoming the norm. Moreover, this longer-term pattern runs parallel to the production of a multitude of new mobile media technologies, first taken up by professionals and then by the mainstream, challenging the notion that activities are bound to any particular place or time. Reinvigorating Work in Social and Cultural Analysis There are moves to reposition social and cultural analysis to respond to these various trends. Work-life balance is an example of a research and policy area that has emerged since the 1990s. The boundary between the household and the outside world has also been subject to scrutiny by cultural researchers, and these critically examine the intersection between work and consumption, gender and care (cf. Nippert-Eng; Sorenson and Lie; Noble and Lupton, "Consuming" and "Mine"; Lally). These responses are examples of a shift away from what Urry has dubbed "structures and stable organisations" to a concern with flows, movements and the blurring of boundaries between life spheres (5). In a similar vein, researchers recently have proposed alternative ways to describe the changing times and places of employment. In their study of UK professionals, Felstead, Jewson and Walters proposed a model of "plural workscapes" to explain a major shift in the spatial organisation of work (23). Mobility theorists Sheller and Urry have called for the need to "develop a more dynamic conceptualisation of the fluidities and mobilities that have increasingly hybridised the public and private" (113). All of this literature has reinforced a growing concern that in the face of new patterns of production and consumption and with the rise of complex media environments, traditional models and measures of space and time are inadequate to account for contemporary work. Analyses that rely on conventional measures of work based on hourly units clearly point to an increase in the volume of work, the speed of work and to the collision (cf. Pocock) of work and life but fall down in accounting for the complex and often contradictory role of technology. Media technologies are "Janus-faced" as Michael Arnold has suggested, referring to the two-faced Roman god to foreground the contradictory effects at the centre of all technologies (232). Wajcman notes this paradox in her research on mobile media and time, pointing out that mobile phones are just as likely to "save" time as to "consume" it (15). It was precisely this problematic of the complex interactions of the space, time and technology of work that was at stake in my research on the daily use of ICT by professional workers. In the context of changes to the location, activity and meaning of work, and with the multiplying array of old and new media technologies used by workers, how can the boundary and scope of work be determined? What are the implications of these shifting grounds for the experience and quality of work? Officing: A Material Practices Account of Office Work In the remaining article I introduce some of the key ideas and principles of a material practices account developed in my PhD, Officing: Professionals' Daily ICT Use and the Changing Space and Time of Work. This research took place between 2006 and 2007 focusing in-depth on the daily technology practices of twenty professional workers in a municipal council in Sydney and a unit of a global telecommunication company taking part in a trial of a new smart phone. Officing builds on efforts to develop a more accurate account of the space and time of work bringing into play the complex and highly mediated environment in which work takes place. It extends more recent practice-based, actor-network and cultural approaches that have, for some time, been moving towards a more co-constitutive and process-oriented approach to media and technology in society. Turning first to "bricolage" from the French bricole meaning something small and handmade, bricolage refers to the ways that individuals and groups borrow from existing cultural forms and meanings to create new uses, meanings and identities. Initially proposed by Levi-Strauss and then taken up by de Certeau, bricolage has been a useful concept within subculture and lifestyle studies to reveal the creative work performed on signs and meaning systems in forming cultural identities (cf. O'Sullivan et al.). Bricolage is also an important concept for understanding how meanings and uses are inscribed into forms in use rather than being read or activated off their design. This is the process of appropriation, through which both the object and the person are mutually shaped and users gain a sense of control and ownership (cf. Noble and Lupton; Lally; Silverstone and Haddon). The concept of bricolage highlights the improvisational qualities of appropriation and its status as work. A bricoleur is thus a person who constructs new meanings and forms by drawing on and assembling a wide range of resources at hand, sourced from multiple spheres of life. One of the problems with how bricolage and appropriation has been applied to date, notwithstanding the priority given to the domestic sphere, is the tendency to grant individuals and collectives too much control to stabilise the meanings and purposes of technologies. This problem is evident in the research drawing on the framework of "domestication" (cf. Silverstone and Haddon). In practice, the sheer volume of technologically-related issues encountered on a daily basis and the accompanying sense of frustration indicates there is no inevitable drift towards stability, nor are problems merely aberrational or trivial. Instead, daily limits to agency and attempts to overcome these are points at which meanings as well as uses are re-articulated and potentially re-invented. This is where "articulation work" comes in. Initially put forward by Anselm Strauss in 1985, articulation work has become an established analytical tool for informing technology design processes in such fields as Computer-Supported Cooperative Work (CSCW) and Workplace Studies. In these, articulation work is narrowly defined to refer to the real time activities of cooperative work. It includes dealing with contingencies, keeping technologies and systems working and making adjustments to accommodate for problems (Suchman "Supporting", 407). In combination with naturalistic investigations, this concept has facilitated engagement with the increasingly complex technological and media environments of work. It has been a powerful tool for highlighting practices deemed unimportant but which are nevertheless crucial for getting work done. Articulation work, however, has the potential to be applied in a broader sense to explain the significance of the instability of technologies and the efforts to overcome these as transformative in themselves, part of the ongoing process of appropriation that goes well beyond individual tasks or technologies. With clear correspondences to actor-network theory, this expanded definition provides the basis for a new understanding of the office as a temporary and provisional condition of stability achieved through the daily creative and improvisational activities of workers. The office, then, is dependent on and inextricably bound up in its ongoing articulation and crucially, is not bound to a particular place or time. In the context of the large-scale transformations in work already discussed, this expanded definition of articulation work helps to; firstly, address how work is re-organised and re-rationalised through changes to the material conditions of work; secondly, identify the ongoing articulations that this entails and thirdly; understand the role of these articulations in the construction of the space and time of work. This expanded definition is achieved in the newly developed concept of officing. Officing describes a form of labour directed towards the production of a stable office platform. Significantly, one of the main characteristics of this work is that it often goes undetected by organisations as well as by the workers that perform it. As explained later, its "invisibility" is in part a function of its embodiment but also relates to the boundless nature of officing, taking place both inside and outside the workplace, in or out of work time. Officing is made up of a set of interwoven activities of three main types: connecting, synchronising and configuring. Connecting can be understood as aligning technical and social relations for the performance of work at a set time. Synchronising brings together and coordinates different times and temporal demands, for example, the time of "work" with "life" or the time "out in the field" with time "in the workplace". Configuring prepares the space of work, making a single technology or media environment work to some planned action or existing pattern of activity. To give an example of connecting: in the Citizens' Service Centre of the Council, Danielle's morning rituals involved a series of connections even before her work of advising customers begins: My day: get in, sit down, turn on the computer and then slowly open each software program that I will need to use…turn on the phone, key in my password, turn on the headphones and sit there and wait for the calls! (Humphry Officing, 123) These connections not only set up and initiate the performance of work but also mark Danielle's presence in her office. Through these activities, which in practice overlap and blur, the space and time of the office comes to appear as a somewhat separate and mostly invisible structure or infrastructure. The work that goes into making the office stable takes place around the boundary of work with implications for how this boundary is constituted. These efforts do not cluster around boundaries in any simple sense but become part of the process of boundary making, contributing to the construction of categories such as "work" and "life". So, for example, for staff in the smart phone trial, the phone had become their main source of information and communication. Turning their smart phone off, or losing connectivity had ramifications that cascaded throughout their lifeworld. On the one hand, this lead to the breakdown of the distinction between "work" and "life" and a sense of "ever-presence", requiring constant and vigilant "boundary work" (cf. Nippert-Eng). On the other hand, this same state also enabled workers to respond to demands in their own time and across multiple boundaries, giving workers a sense of flexibility, control and of being "in sync". Connecting, configuring and synchronising are activities performed by bodies, producing an embodied transformation. In the tradition of phenomenology, most notably in the works of Heidegger, Merleau-Ponty and more recently Ihde, embodiment is used to explain the relationship between subjects and objects. This concept has since been developed to be understood as not residing in the body but as spread through social, material and discursive arrangements (cf. Haraway, "Situated" and Simians; Henke; Suchman, "Figuring"). Tracing efforts towards making the office stable is thus a way of uncovering how the body, as a constitutive part of a larger arrangement or network, is formed through embodiment, how it gains its competencies, social meanings and ultimately, how workers gain a sense of what it means to be a professional. So, in the smart phone trial, staff managed their connections by replying immediately to their voice, text and data messages. This immediacy not only acted as proof of their presence in the office. It also signalled their commitment to their office: their active participation and value to the organisation and their readiness to perform when called on. Importantly, this embodied transformation also helps to explain how officing becomes an example of "invisible work" (cf. Star and Strauss). Acts of connecting, synchronising and configuring become constituted and forgotten in and through bodies, spaces and times. Through their repeated performance these acts become habits, a transparent means through which the environment of work is navigated in the form of skills and techniques, configurations and routines. In conclusion, researching work in contemporary societies means confronting its marginalisation within cultural research and developing ways to comprehend and measure the interaction of space, time and the ever-multiplying array of media technologies. Officing provides a way to do this by shifting to an understanding of the workplace as a contingent product of work itself. The strength of this approach is that it highlights the creative and ongoing work of individuals on their media infrastructures. It also helps to identify and describe work activities that are not neatly contained in a workplace, thus adding to their invisibility. The invisibility of these practices can have significant impacts on workers: magnifying feelings of time pressure and a need to work faster, longer and harder even as discrete technologies are utilised to save time. In this way, officing exposes some of the additional contributions to the changing experience and quality of work as well as to the construction of everyday domains. Officing supports an evaluation of claims of productivity and work-life balance in relation to new media technologies. In the smart phone trial, contrary to an assumed increase in productivity, mobility of work was achieved at the expense of productivity. Making the mobile office stable—getting it up and running, keeping it working in changing environments and meeting expectations of speed and connectivity—took up time, resulting in an overall productivity loss and demanding more "boundary work". In spite of their adaptability and flexibility, staff tended to overwork to counteract this loss. This represented a major shift in the burden of effort in the production of office forms away from the organisation and towards the individual. Finally, though not addressed here in any detail, officing could conceivably have practical uses for designing more sustainable office environments that better support the work process and the balance of work and life. Thus, by accounting more accurately for the resource requirements of work, organisations can reduce the daily effort, space and time taken up by employees on their work environments. In any case, what is clear, is the ongoing need to continue a cultural research agenda on work—to address the connections between transformations in work and the myriad material practices that individuals perform in going about their daily work. References Arnold, Michael. "On the Phenomenology of Technology: The 'Janus-Faces' of Mobile Phones." Information and Organization 13.4 (2003): 231–56. Australian Bureau of Statistics. 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Aims: To identify the impact of sand quarrying activities on the health, economy and environment of the Batak community whose people are dwindling in population. Further, the study aims to determine how the people demonstrate resilience in this face of economic adversity. Study Design: Using a qualitative research design and an interview as data collection method. Place and Duration of Study: Batak community in Sitio Mangapin in Barangay Langogan, Northern Puerto Princesa, January to June of 2019. Methodology: We invited 20 adult Batak who were engaged in small scale quarrying at the time of the study. The purpose of the study was explained to them and they were invited to participate in interviews. Only nine males and eight females signed the informed consent. Seventeen members of the community became the respondents in the study. The informants’ age ranges from 25 to 52 years old, all are married and have children and all were participants in small scale quarrying being done in the community. Casual interviews, focus group discussions and observations were used to collect data from the informants. Interviews were done individually and were recorded with permission of the informants. Results: Data showed that families participated in the quarrying because of poverty but the engagement in hard labor impacts the health especially of the male workers in which 25 percent (of those interviewed) have acquired tuberculosis and persistent cough. About 50 percent of the women have acquired persistent back pain and loss weight. Observations yielded data on violations of the environment since the sand were taken not directly from the river but from the riverbank. Activities were found to be done on a large scale with trucks hauling from the river. While the Batak who were engaged in small scale mining, they were away the riverbanks in the process, creating large holes on the side which could potentially result in flash floods during rainy days. Conclusion: the Batak are aware that the small economic benefits they acquire from participation in the quarrying do not outweigh the potential environment and health risks the community is exposed to in their engagement to this kind of work. Despite the awareness of the hazards posed by sand mining on their health and environment, the need to survive hunger and illness during the lean months and lack of government support had prompted the people to engage in small scale quarrying which could potentially worsen the damage being created by large scale sand mining already taking place in the river. Participation in small scale mining has become an adaptation strategy employed by the Batak workers to cope with economic difficulties.

This article uses a case study of a Melbourne-based youth media project called Youthworx to explore the processes at stake in cultural engagement for marginalised young people. Drawing on ethnographic research conducted between 2008 and 2010, I identify some ways in which the city is implicated in promoting or preventing access to socially valued spaces of creativity and intended social mobility. The ethnographic material presented here has both empirical and theoretical value. It reveals the important relationships between the experience of place, creativity, and social life, demonstrating potentialities and limits of creativity-focused development interventions for marginalised youth. The articulation of these relationships and processes taking place within a particular city setting has theoretical implications. It opens up an opportunity to consider "suburbs" as enacted by specific forms of access, contingencies, and opportunities for a particular demographic, rather than treating "suburbs" as abstract, analytical constructs. Finally, my empirically grounded discussion draws attention to cultural and social consequences that inhabiting certain social worlds and acts of travelling "to and beyond" them have for young people. Youthworx is a community-based youth media initiative employing pathway-based semi-formal creative practices to re-engage young people who have a history of drug or alcohol abuse or juvenile justice, who have been long disconnected from mainstream education, or who are homeless. The focus on media production allows it to tap into, and in fact leverage, popular creativity, tacit knowledge, and familiar media-based activities that young people bring to bear on their media training and work in this context. Underpinned by social and creative industry policy, Youthworx brings together social service agency The Salvation Army (TSA), educational provider Northern Melbourne Institute of TAFE (NMIT), youth community media organisation SYN Media, and researchers at Institute for Social Research, Swinburne University. Its day-to-day operation is run by contractual, part-time media facilitators, social workers (as part of TSA’s in-kind support), as well as media industry experts who provide casual media training. Youthworx is characterised by the diversity of its young demographic. One can differentiate between at least two groups of participants: those who join Youthworx because of the social opportunities, and those who put more value on its skill-development, or vocational creative industries orientation. This social organisation is, however, far from static. Over the two years of research (2008-2010) we observed evolving ideas about the identity of the program, its key social functions, and how they can be best served. This had proceeded with the construction of what the Youthworx staff term "a community of safe belonging" to a more "serious" media work environment, exemplified by the establishment of a social enterprise (Youthworx Productions) in 2010 that offers paid traineeships to the most capable and determined young creators. To accommodate the diversity of literacy levels, needs, and aspirations of its young participants, the project offers a tailored media education program with a mix of diversionary, educational, and commercial objectives. One-on-one media training sessions, accredited courses in Creative Industries (Media), and industry training within Youthworx Productions are provided to help young people develop a range of skills transferable into a variety of personal, social and professional contexts. Its creative studio, where learning occurs, is located in a former jeans factory warehouse in the heart of an industrial area of Melbourne’s northern inner-city suburb of Brunswick. Young people are referred to Youthworx by a range of social agencies, and they travel to Brunswick from across Melbourne. Some participants are known to spend over three hours commuting from outer suburbs such as Frankston or even regional towns such as King Lake. Unlike community-based creative programs reliant on established community structures within local suburbs (for example, ICE in Western Sydney), Youthworx moved into Tinning Street in Brunswick because its industry partner—The Salvation Army—had existing youth service infrastructure there. The program, however, was not tapping into an existing media “community of practice” (Lane and Wenger); it had to forge its own culture of media participation. In the early days of the program, there were necessary material resources and professional expertise (teachers/social workers/a creative venue), but it took a long while, and a high level of dedication, passion, and practical optimism on the part of the project managers and teaching staff, for young people to genuinely engage in media training and production. Now, Youthworx’s creative space is a “practised place” in de Certeau’s sense. As “the street geometrically defined by urban planning is transformed into a space by walkers” (De Certeau 117), so is the Youthworx space produced by practices of media learning and making by professional creative practitioners and young amateur creators (Raffo; for ideas on institutionalised co-creative practice see Spurgeon et al.). The Brunswick location is where our extensive ethnographic research has taken place, including regular participant observation and qualitative interviews with staff and young participants. The ethnographers frequently travelled with young people to other locations within Melbourne, accompanying them on their trips to youth community radio station SYN Media in the CBD, where they produce a weekly radio show, as well as to film shoots and public social events around the city. As an access learning program for marginalised youth from around Melbourne, Youthworx provides an interesting example to explore how the concerns of material and cultural capital, geographic and cultural distance intersect and shape processes of creative participation and social inclusion. I draw on our ethnographic material to illustrate how these metonymic relationships play out in the ways young participants “travel distance” (Dewson et. al.) on the project and across the city, both figuratively and literally. The idea of “distance travelled” is adapted here from evaluation literature (for other relevant references see Dowmunt et al.; Hayes and Edwards; Holdsworth et al.), and builds on the argument made previously (Podkalicka and Staley 5), to encompass both the geographical mobility and cultural transformation that young people are supported to undergo as an intended outcome of their involvement in Youthworx. This paper also takes inspiration from ethnographic approaches that study a productive and transformative relationship between material culture, spatial geography and processes of identity formation (see Miller). What happens to Youthworx young participants as they travel in a trivial, and at first sight perhaps inconsequential, way between the suburbs they live in, the Youthworx Brunswick location and the city is both experientially real and meaningful. “Suburban space” is then a cultural site that simultaneously refers to concrete, literal places as well as “a state of mind”—that is, identification and connections that are generative of a sense of identity and belonging (Ferber et al.). Youthworx is an intermediary point on these young people’s travels, rather than the final destination (Podkalicka and Staley 5). It provides access to various forms of new spatial, social, and creative experiences and modes of expression. Creating opportunities for highly disenfranchised young people to access and develop new social and creative experiences is an important aspect of Youthworx’s developmental agenda, and is played out at both philosophical and practical levels. On the one hand, a strength-based approach to youth work assumes respect for young people’s potential and knowledges—unlike public discourses that deny them agency due to an assumed lack of life experience (e.g., Poletti). In addition to the material provision of "food and shelter" typical of traditional social work, attention is paid the higher levels of the Maslow hierarchy of human needs, with creativity, self-esteem, and social connectedness at the top of the scale (see also Podkalicka and Campbell; Podkalicka and Thomas). Former Manager of The Salvation Army’s Brunswick Youth Services (BYS)—one of Youthworx’s partners—Craig Campbell argues: Things like truth and beauty are a higher order of dreams for these kids. And by truth I don’t mean the simple lies that can be told to get them out of trouble [but] is there a greater truth to life than a grinding existence in the impoverished neighbourhood, is there something like beauty and aesthetics that wakes us up in the morning and calls a larger life out of us? Most of those kids only faintly dream of such a thing, and this dream is rapidly being extinguished under the weight of drugs and alcohol, abusive family systems, savage interaction with law and justice system, and education as a toxic environment and experience. (Campbell) Campbell's articulate reflection captures the way the Youthworx project has been conceived. It is also a pertinent example of the many reflections on experience and practice at Youthworx that were recorded in my fieldwork, which illustrate the way these kinds of social projects can be understood, interpreted and evaluated. The following personal narrative and contextual description introduce some of the important issues at stake. (The names and other personal details of young people have been changed.) Nineteen-year-old Dave is temporarily staying in an inner-city refuge. Normally, however, like most Youthworx participants, he lives in Broadmeadows, a far northern suburb of Melbourne. To get to Brunswick, where he does his accredited media course three days a week, he either catches a train or waits for a mini-bus to drive him there. The early-morning pick-up for about ten young people is organised by the program’s partner—The Salvation Army. At the Youthworx creative studio, located in the heart of Brunswick, right next to railway tracks, young people produce an array of media products: live and pre-recorded radio programs, digital storytelling, mini-documentaries, and original music. Once at Youthworx, they share the local neighbourhood with other artists who have adapted warehouses into art workshops, studios and galleries. The suburb of Brunswick is well-known for its multicultural profile, a combination of industrial and residential estates, high rates of tertiary students due to its proximity to universities, and its place in the recent history of urban gentrification. However, Youthworx participants don’t seek out or engage with the existing, physically proximate creative base, even within the same street. On a couple of occasions, the opposite has been the case: Youthworx students have been involved in acts of vandalism of local residents’ property, including nearby parked cars. Their connections to the Brunswick neighbourhood remain poor, often reflecting their low social capital as a result of unstable residential situations, isolation, and fraught relationships with family. From Brunswick, they often travel to the city on their own, wander around, sit on the steps of Flinders Street train station—an inner-city hub and popular meeting place for locals and tourists alike. Youthworx plays an important role in these young people’s lives, as an important access point to not only creative digital media-based experiences and skill development, but also to greater and basic geographical mobility and experiences within the city. As one of the students commented: They are giving us chances that we wouldn’t usually get. Every day you’re getting to a place, where it’s pretty damn easy to get into; that’s what’s good about it. There are so many places where you have to do so much to get there and half the time, some people don’t even have the bloody bus ticket to get a [job] interview. But [at Youthworx/BYS], they will pick you up and drive you around if you need it. They are friends. It is reportedly a common practice for many young people at Youthworx and BYS to catch a train or a tram (rather than bus) without paying for a ticket. However, to be caught dodging a fare a few times has legal consequences and young people often face court as a result. The program responds by offering its young participants tickets for public transport, ready for pick-up after afternoon activities, or, if possible, "driving them around"—as some young people told me. The program’s social workers revealed that girls are particularly afraid to travel on their own, especially when catching trains to the outer northern suburbs, for fear of being harassed or attacked. These supported travels are as practical and necessary as they are meaningful for young people’s identity formation, and as such are recognised and built into the project’s design, co-ordination and delivery. At the most basic level, The Salvation Army’s social workers pick young people up from the Broadmeadows area in the mornings. Youthworx creative practitioners assist young people to make trips to SYN Media in the city. For most participants, this is either the first or sporadic experience of travelling to the city, something they enjoy very much but are also somewhat daunted by. Additionally, as part of the curriculum, Youthworx staff make a point of taking young people to inner-city movie theatres or public media events. The following vignette from the fieldwork highlights another important connection between physical journey and creative expression. There is an excitement in Dave’s voice when he talks about his favourite pastime: hanging out around the city. “Why would you walk around the streets?” a curious female friend interjects. Dave replies: “No, it’s not the streets, man. It’s just Federation Square, everywhere … There is just all these young wannabe criminals and shit. People don’t know what goes on; and I want to do a doco on the city, a little doco of the people there, because I know a lot of it.” Dave’s interest in exploring the city may be interpreted as a rather common, mundane routine shared by mildly adventurous adolescents of all walks. And yet, there is much more at stake in his account, and for Youthworx young participants more generally. As mentioned before, for many of these young people, it is the first opportunity to travel to the city. This experience then is crucial in a sense of self-exploration and self-discovery. As they overcome their fear of venturing out into the city on their own, they also learn that they have knowledge which others might lack. This moment of realisation is significant and empowering, and they want to communicate this knowledge to others. Youthworx assists them in learning how to translate this knowledge in a creative and constructive way, through an expression that weaves between the free individual and the social voice constructed to enable a dialogue or understanding (Podkalicka; Podkalicka and Campbell; Podkalicka and Thomas; also Soep and Chavez). For an effective communication to occur, a crafted social voice requires skills and a critical awareness of oneself and an audience, which is very different from the modes of expression that these young people might have accessed previously. Youthworx's young participants draw heavily on their life experiences, geographical locations, the suburbs they come from, and places they visit in the city: their cultural productions often reference their homes, music clubs and hang-out venues, inner city streets, Federation Square, and Youthworx’s immediate physical surroundings, with graffiti-covered narrow alleys and railway tracks. The frequent depiction of Youthworx in young people’s creative outputs is often a token of appreciation of the creative, educational and social opportunities it has offered them. Social and professional connections they make there are found to be very valuable. The existing creative industries literature emphasises the importance of social networks to existing communities of interest and practice for human capacity building. Value is argued to lie not only in specific content produced, but in participatory processes that establish a link between personal growth, individual skills and social and professional networks (Hearn and Bridgestock). In a similar vein, Carlo Raffo uses Granovetter’s concept of “weak ties” to suggest that access to “social relations that go beyond the immediate locality and hence their immediate experiences” can provide marginalised young people with “pathways for authentic and informal learning that go beyond the structuring influences of class, gender and ethnicity and into new and emerging economic experiences” (Raffo 11). But higher levels of confidence or social skills are required to make the most of vocational or professional opportunities beyond the supportive context of Youthworx. Connections between Youthworx participants and other creative practitioners within the creative locality of Brunswick have been absent thus far. Transitions into mainstream education and employment have also proven challenging for this group of heavily marginalised youth. As we found during our ongoing fieldwork, even the most talented students find it hard to get into mainstream education courses, or to get or keep jobs. The project serves as a social basis for young people to develop self-agency and determination so they can start engaging with new opportunities and social networks outside the program (Raffo 15). Indeed, the creative practitioners at Youthworx are key facilitators of connections between young people and the external world. They act as positive role models socially, and illustrate what is possible professionally in terms of media excellence and employment (see also Raffo). There are indications that this very supportive, gradual process of social learning is starting to bear fruit for individual students and the Youthworx community as a whole as they grow more confident with themselves, in interactions with others, and the media work they do. Media projects such as Youthworx are examples of what Leadbeater and Wong call “disruptive innovation,” as they provide new ways of learning for those alienated by formal education. The use of digital hands-on media production makes educational processes relevant and engaging for young people. However, as I demonstrate in this paper, there are tangible, material barriers to releasing creativity, or enhancing self-discovery and sociality. There are, as Leadbeater and Wong observe, persistent links between cultural environment, socio-economic status, corresponding attitudes to learning and educational success in the developed world. In the UK, for example, only small percent of those from the lowest socio-economic background go to university (Leadbeater and Wong 10). Youthworx provides an opportunity and motivation for young people to break a cycle of individual self-destructive behaviour (e.g. getting locked up every 6 months), intergenerational reliance on welfare, or entrenched negative attitudes to learning. At the basic level, it encourages and often insists that young people get up in the morning, with social workers often reporting to have to “knock at people’s houses and get them ready.” The involvement in Youthworx is often an important reason to start delineating between day and night, week and weekend. A couple of students commented: I slept a lot. Yeah, I was always sleeping during the day and out at night; I could have still been doing nothing with my life [were it not for Youthworx]. Now people ask if I want to go out during the week, and I just can’t be bothered. I just want to sleep and then go to [Youthworx] and then weekends are when you go out. It also offers a concrete means to begin exploring the city beyond the constraints of their local suburbs. This literal, geographical mobility is interlocked with potential for a changed perception of opportunities, individual transformation and, consequently, social mobility. Dave, as we have seen, is attracted to the idea of exploring the city but also has creative aspirations, and contemplates professional prospects in the creative industries. It is important to note that the participants are resilient in their negotiation between the suburban, Youthworx and inner city worlds they can inhabit. Accessing learning, despite previous negative schooling experiences, is for many of them very important, and reaffirming of life they aspire to. An opportunity to pursue dreams, creative forms of expression, social networks and education is a vital part of human existence. These aspects of social inclusion are recognised in the current articulation of social policy reconceptualised beyond material, economic equality. Creative industry policy, on the other hand, is concerned with fostering creative outputs and skills to generate engagement and employment opportunities in the knowledge-based economies for wide sections of the population. The value is located in human capacity building, involving basic social as well as vocational skills, and links to social networks. The Youthworx project merges these two policy frameworks of the social and creative to test in practice new collaborative approaches to youth development. The spatial and cultural practices of young people described here serve a basis for proposing a theoretical framework that can help understand the term "suburb" in an intrinsically relational, grounded way. The relationships at stake in cultural and social participation for marginalised young people lead me to suggest that the concept of ‘suburb’ takes on two tightly interwoven meanings. The first refers symbolically to a particular locale for popular creativity (Burgess) or even marginal creativity by a group of young people living at the periphery of the social system. The second meaning refers to the interlocked forms of material and cultural capital (and distance), as theorised in Bourdieu’s work (e.g., Bourdieu). It includes physical, spatial conditions and relations, as well as cultural resources and possibilities made available to young participants by the project (e.g., the instituted, supported travel across the city, or the employment of creative practitioners), and interlinked with everyday dispositions, practices, and status of young people (e.g., taste). This empirically-grounded discussion allows to theorise ‘suburbs’ as perceived and socially enacted by concrete, relational forms of access, contingencies, and opportunities for a particular demographic, rather than analytically pre-conceived, designated spaces within an urban system. The ethnographic material reveals that cultural participation for marginalised youth requires an integrated approach, with a parallel focus on material and creative opportunities made available within creative sites such as Youthworx or even the Brunswick creative area. The important material constraints exemplified in this paper concern socio-economic background, cultural disadvantage and geographical isolation and point to the limits of the creative industries-based interventions to address social inclusion if carried out in isolation. They tap into the very basis of risks for this specific demographic of marginalised youth or "youth at risk." The paper suggests that the productive emphasis on the role of media and communication for (youth) development needs to be contextualised and considered along with the actual realities of everyday existence that often limit young people’s educational and vocational prospects (see Bentley et al.; Leadbeater and Wong). On the other hand, an exclusive focus on material support risks cancelling out the possibilities for positive life transitions, such as those triggered by constructive, non-reductionist engagement with “beauty, aesthetics” (Campbell) and creativity. By exploring how participation in Youthworx engenders both the physical mobility between suburbs and the city, and identity transformation, we are able to gain insights into the nature of social exclusion, its meanings for the youth involved and the project managers and staff. Thinking about Youthworx not just as a hub of creative production but as a cultural site—“a space within a practiced place of identity” (De Certeau 117) in the suburb of Brunswick—opens up a discussion that combines the policy language of opportunity and necessity with concrete creative and material possibilities. Social inclusion objectives aimed at positive youth transitions need to be considered in the light of the connection—or disconnection—between the Youthworx Brunswick site itself, young participants’ suburbs, and, by extension, the trajectory between the inner city and other spaces that young people travel through and inhabit. Acknowledgment I would like to thank all the young participants, staff and industry partners involved in the Youthworx project. I also acknowledge the comments of anonymous peer reviewer which helped to strengthen the argument by foregrounding the value of the empirical material. The paper draws on the larger project funded by the Centre of Excellence in Creative Industries and Innovation. Youthworx research team includes: Prof Denise Meredyth (CI); Prof Julian Thomas (CI); Ass/Prof David MacKenzie (CI); Ass/Prof Ellie Rennie; Chris Wilson (PhD candidate), and Jon Staley (Youthworx Manager and PhD candidate). References Bentley, Tom, and Kate Oakley. “The Real Deal: What Young People Think about Government, Politics and Social Exclusion.” Demos. 12 Jan. 2011 ‹http://www.demos.co.uk/files/theRealdeal.pdf›. Bourdieu, Pierre. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. Cambridge: Harvard U P, 1987. Burgess, Jean. “Hearing Ordinary Voices: Cultural Studies, Vernacular Creativity and Digital Storytelling.” Continuum 20.2 (2006): 201–14. Campbell, Craig. Personal Interview. Melbourne, 2009. De Certeau, Michel. The Practice of Everyday Life. Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1984. Dewson, Sara, Judith Eccles, Nii Djan Tackey and Annabel Jackson. “Guide to Measuring Soft Outcomes and Distance Travelled.” The Institute for Employment Studies. 12 Jan. 2011‹http:// www.dwp.gov.uk/docs/distance.pdf›. Dowmunt, Tom, Mark Dunford, and N. van Hemert. Inclusion through Media. London: Open Mute, 2007. Ferber, Sarah, Chris Healy, and Chris McAuliffe. Beasts of Suburbia: Reinterpreting Cultures in Australian Suburbs. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 1994. Hayes, Alan, Matthew Gray, and Ben Edwards. “Social Inclusion: Origins, Concepts and Key Themes.” Australian Institute of Family Studies, prepared for the Social Inclusion Unit, Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet. 2008.12 Jan. 2011 ‹http://www.socialinclusion.gov.au/Documents/AIFS_SI_concepts_report_20April09.pdf›. Hearn, Gregory, and Ruth Bridgstock. “Education for the Creative Economy: Innovation, Transdisciplinarity, and Networks. Education in the Creative Economy: Knowledge and Learning in the Age of Innovation. Ed. Daniel Araya and Michael Peters. New York: Peter Lang, 2010. 93–116. Holdsworth, Roger, Murray Lake, Kathleen Stacey, and John Safford. “Doing Positive Things: You Have to Go Out and Do It: Outcomes for Participants in Youth Development Programs.” Australian Youth Research Centre. 12 Jan. 2011 ‹http://www.dest.gov.au/NR/rdonlyres/5385FE14-A74C-4B24-98EA-D31EEA8447B2/21803/doing_positive_things1.pdf›. Lave, Jean, and Etienne Wenger. Situated Learning: Legitimate Peripheral Participation. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1991. Leadbeater, Charles, and Annika Wong. “Learning from the Extremes.” CISCO. 12 Jan. 2011 ‹http://www.socialinclusion.gov.au/Documents/AIFS_SI_concepts_report_20April09.pdf›. Miller, Daniel. Stuff. Cambridge: Polity, 2010. Podkalicka, Aneta. “Young Listening: An Ethnography of Youthworx Media's Radio Project." Continuum: Journal of Media & Cultural Studies 23.4 (2009): 561–72. ———, and Jon Staley. “Youthworx Media: Creative Media Engagement for ‘at Risk’ Young People.” 3CM 5 (2009). ———, and Julian Thomas. “The Skilled Social Voice: An Experiment in Creative Economy and Communication Rights.’’ International Communication Gazette 72.4–5 (2010): 395–406. ———, and Craig Campbell. “Understanding Digital Storytelling: Beyond the Politics of Voice in Youth Participation Programs.” seminar.net: Media Technology and Lifelong Learning 6.2 (2010). ‹http://www.seminar.net/index.php/home/75-current-issue/150-understanding-digital-storytelling-individual-voice-and-community-building-in-youth-media-programs›. Poletti, Anna. Intimate Ephemera: Reading Young Lives in Australian Zine Culture. Melbourne: Melbourne University Press, 2008. Raffo, Carlo. "Mentoring Disenfranchised Young People: An Action Research Project on the Development of 'Weak Ties' and Social Capital Enhancement." Education and Industry in Partnership 6.3 (2000): 22–42. Soep, Elizabeth, and Vivian Chavez. Drop That Knowledge: Youth Radio Stories. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2010. Spurgeon, Christina, Jean Burgess, Helen Klaebe, Kelly McWilliam, Jo Tacchi, and Mimi Tsai. “Co-Creative Media: Theorising Digital Storytelling as a Platform for Researching and Developing Participatory Culture.” 2009 ANZC Conference Proceedings. 2009. 16 Nov. 2010 ‹http://eprints.qut.edu.au/25811/2/25811.pdf›.

Today with an ever increasing population, and the recent Pandemic of COVID-19 still in force throughout the world, agricultural innovation is getting vital in order to increase the productivity and secure the global food supply but agriculture research and development is always a costly affair and while previously it was undertaken mainly by public sector, today the private sector is adopting the work of Research & Development specifically in the area of biotechnology. Thereafter we see that in the modern world in both the developed and developing countries use of herbal medicines, phytonutrients and nutraceuticals are expanding rapidly as many persons are resorting to these products for treatment of various health problems within various national healthcare settings but many of these products have remained untested and their use are also not monitored which has caused problems in acquiring proper knowledge of the adverse effects of these medicines and therapies used, creating safety related issues for the persons who are using them along with causing obstacles in proper promotion of these products and methods throughout the world. Intellectual Property (IP) refers to the creations of mind such as inventions, literary and artistic works, designs, symbols, names and images and these are protected by laws like Patents, Copyrights, trademarks etc, which enable people to earn recognition or financial benefits from what they invent or create. Previously machines were considered for invention or artistic creations and were protected by the Intellectual Property Rights and the assignment of IPRs to living things is relatively a recent phenomenon in the developed countries but today agriculture is seen as an industry that cannot survive without research, development and investments. This situation made it necessary to extend protections of IPRs in all its forms to the agriculture sector also. Then we see that recently not only Ayurveda of India but also other Traditional medical systems of Africa and South America has also started getting recognitions throughout the world as a rationale system of medicine and so it is absolutely necessary to understand the concept, rules, regulations, present status, controlling authorities of Intellectual Property Rights to protect and promote the ideas about these types of treatments and medicines and make them acceptable throughout the world without any constraints for the development of the developing and underdeveloped countries of the Asia, Africa and South American continents . In this paper we will study the impact of Intellectual Property Rights on the traditional medical treatment systems of continents of Asia, Africa and will try to examine how Intellectual Property Rights can be applied to protect and increase the production of medicines developed from medicinal herbs in the developing and underdeveloped countries of Asia and African countries along with a special reference to India. This study has been casual, exploratory and empirical in nature and the data needed for research work has been collected by using both direct and indirect methods of data collection..

The concept of transmedia storyworlds unfolding across complex serial narrative structures has become increasingly important to the study of modern media industries and audience communities. Yet, the precise connections between transmedia networks, serial structures, and narrative processes often remain underdeveloped. The dispersion of potential story elements across a diverse collection of media platforms and technologies prompts questions concerning the function of seriality in the absence of fixed instalments, the meaning of narrative when plot is largely a personal construction of each audience member, and the nature of storytelling in the absence of a unifying author, or when authorship itself takes on a serial character. This special issue opens a conversation on the intersection of these three concepts and their implications for a variety of disciplines, artistic practices, and philosophies. By re-thinking these concepts from fresh perspectives, the collection challenges scholars to consider how a wide range of academic, aesthetic, and social phenomena might be productively thought through using the overlapping lenses of transmedia, seriality, and narrativity. Thus, the collection gathers scholars from life-writing, sport, film studies, cultural anthropology, fine arts, media studies, and literature, all of whom find common ground at this fruitful crossroads. This breadth also challenges the narrow use of transmedia as a specialized term to describe current developments in corporate mass media products that seek to exploit the affordances of hybrid digital media environments. Many prominent scholars, including Marie-Laure Ryan and Henry Jenkins, acknowledge that a basic definition of transmedia as stories with extensions and reinterpretations in numerous media forms includes the oldest kinds of human expression, such as the ancient storyworlds of Arthurian legend and The Odyssey. Yet, what Jenkins terms “top-down” transmedia—that is, pre-planned and often corporate transmedia—has received a disproportionate share of scholarly attention, with modern franchises like The Matrix, the Marvel universe, and Lost serving as common exemplars (Flanagan, Livingstone, and McKenny; Hadas; Mittell; Scolari). Thus, many of the contributions to this issue push the boundaries of what has commonly been studied as transmedia as well as the limits of what may be considered a serial structure or even a story. For example, these papers imagine how an autobiography may also be a digital concept album unfolding in reverse, how participatory artistic performances may unfold in unpredictable instalments across physical and digital space, and how studying sports fandom as a long series of transmedia narrative elements encourages scholars to grapple with the unique structures assembled by audiences of non-fictional story worlds. Setting these experimental offerings into dialogue with entries that approach the study of transmedia in a more established manner provides the basis for building bridges between such recognized conversations in new media studies and potential collaborations with other disciplines and subfields of media studies.This issue builds upon papers collected from four years of the International Transmedia Serial Narration Seminar, which I co-organized with Dr. Claire Cornillon, Assistant Professor (Maîtresse de Conférences) of comparative literature at Université de Nîmes. The seminar held sessions in Paris, Le Havre, Rouen, Amsterdam, and Utrecht, with interdisciplinary speakers from the USA, Australia, France, Belgium, and the Netherlands. As a transnational, interdisciplinary project intended to cross both theoretical and physical boundaries, the seminar aimed to foster exchange between academic conversations that can become isolated not only within disciplines, but also within national and linguistic borders. The seminar thus sought to enhance academic mobility between both people and ideas, and the digital, open-access publication of the collected papers alongside additional scholarly interlocutors serves to broaden the seminar’s goals of creating a border-crossing conversation. After two special issues primarily collecting the French language papers in TV/Series (2014) and Revue Française des Sciences de l’Information et de la Communication (2017), this issue seeks to share the Transmedia Serial Narration project with a wider audience by publishing the remaining English-language papers, accompanied by several other contributions in dialogue with the seminar’s themes. It is our hope that this collection will invite a broad international audience to creatively question the meaning of transmedia, seriality, and narrativity both historically and in the modern, rapidly changing, global and digital media environment.Several articles in the issue illuminate existing debates and common case studies in transmedia scholarship by comparing theoretical models to the much more slippery reality of a media form in flux. Thus, Mélanie Bourdaa’s feature article, “From One Medium to the Next: How Comic Books Create Richer Storylines,” examines theories of narrative complexity and transmedia by scholars including Henry Jenkins, Derek Johnson, and Jason Mittell to then propose a new typology of extensions to accommodate the lived reality expressed by producers of transmedia. Because her interviews with artists and writers emphasize the co-constitutive nature of economic and narrative considerations in professionals’ decisions, Bourdaa’s typology can offer researchers a tool to clarify the marketing and narrative layers of transmedia extensions. As such, her classification system further illuminates what is particular about forms of corporate transmedia with a profit orientation, which may not be shared by non-profit, collective, and independently produced transmedia projects.Likewise, Radha O’Meara and Alex Bevan map existing scholarship on transmedia to point out the limitations of deriving theory only from certain forms of storytelling. In their article “Transmedia Theory’s Author Discourse and Its Limitations,” O’Meara and Bevan argue that scholars have preferred to focus on examples of transmedia with a strong central author-figure or that they may indeed help to rhetorically shore up the coherency of transmedia authorship through writing about transmedia creators as auteurs. Tying their critique to the established weaknesses of auteur theory associated with classic commentaries like Roland Barthes’ “Death of the Author” and Foucault’s “What is an Author?”, O’Meara and Bevan explain that this focus on transmedia creators as authority figures reinforces hierarchical, patriarchal understandings of the creative process and excludes from consideration all those unauthorized transmedia extensions through which audiences frequently engage and make meaning from transmedia networks. They also emphasize the importance of constructing academic theories of transmedia authorship that can accommodate collaborative forms of hybrid amateur and professional authorship, as well as tolerate the ambiguities of “authorless” storyworlds that lack clear narrative boundaries. O’Meara and Bevan argue that such theories will help to break down gendered power hierarchies in Hollywood, which have long allowed individual men to “claim credit for the stories and for all the work that many people do across various sectors and industries.”Dan Hassler-Forest likewise considers existing theory and a corporate case study in his examination of analogue echoes within a modern transmedia serial structure by mapping the storyworld of Twin Peaks (1990). His article, “‘Two Birds with One Stone’: Transmedia Serialisation in Twin Peaks,” demonstrates the push-and-pull between two contemporary TV production strategies: first, the use of transmedia elements that draw viewers away from the TV screen toward other platforms, and second, the deployment of strategies that draw viewers back to the TV by incentivizing broadcast-era appointment viewing. Twin Peaks offers a particularly interesting example of the manner in which these strategies intertwine partly because it already offered viewers an analogue transmedia experience in the 1990s by splitting story elements between TV episodes and books. Unlike O’Meara and Bevan, who elucidate the growing prominence of transmedia auteurs who lend rhetorical coherence to dispersed narrative elements, Hassler-Forest argues that this older analogue transmedia network capitalized upon the dilution of authorial authority, due to the distance between TV and book versions, to negotiate tensions between the producers’ competing visions. Hassler-Forest also notes that the addition of digital soundtrack albums further complicates the serial nature of the story by using the iTunes and TV distribution schedules to incentivize repeated sequential consumption of each element, thus drawing modern viewers to the TV screen, then the computer screen, and then back again.Two articles offer a concrete test of these theoretical perspectives by utilizing ethnographic participant-observation and interviewing to examine how audiences actually navigate diffuse, dispersed storyworlds. For example, Céline Masoni’s article, “From Seriality to Transmediality: A Socio-narrative Approach of a Skilful and Literate Audience,” documents fans’ highly strategic participatory practices. From her observations of and interviews with fans, Masoni theorizes the types of media literacy and social as well as technological competencies cultivated through transmedia fan practices. Olivier Servais and Sarah Sepulchre’s article similarly describes a long-term ethnography of fan transmedia activity, including interviews with fans and participant-observation of the MMORPG (Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game) Game of Thrones Ascent (2013). Servais and Sepulchre find that most people in their interviews are not “committed” fans, but rather casual readers and viewers who follow transmedia extensions sporadically. By focusing on this group, they widen the existing research which often focuses on or assumes a committed audience like the skilful and literate fans discussed by Masoni.Servais and Sepulchre’s results suggest that these viewers may be less likely to seek out all transmedia extensions but readily accept and adapt unexpected elements, such as the media appearances of actors, to add to their serial experiences of the storyworld. In a parallel research protocol observing the Game of Thrones Ascent MMORPG, Servais and Sepulchre report that the most highly-skilled players exhibit few behaviours associated with immersion in the storyworld, but the majority of less-skilled players use their gameplay choices to increase immersion by, for example, choosing a player name that evokes the narrative. As a result, Servais and Sepulchre shed light upon the activities of transmedia audiences who are not necessarily deeply committed to the entire transmedia network, and yet who nonetheless make deliberate choices to collect their preferred narrative elements and increase their own immersion.Two contributors elucidate forms of transmedia that upset the common emphasis on storyworlds with film or TV as the core property or “mothership” (Scott). In her article “Transmedia Storyworlds, Literary Theory, Games,” Joyce Goggin maps the history of intersections between experimental literature and ludology. As a result, she questions the continuing dichotomy between narratology and ludology in game studies to argue for a more broadly transmedia strategy, in which the same storyworld may be simultaneously narrative and ludic. Such a theory can incorporate a great deal of what might otherwise be unproblematically treated as literature, opening up the book to interrogation as an inherently transmedial medium.L.J. Maher similarly examines the serial narrative structures that may take shape in a transmedia storyworld centred on music rather than film or TV. In her article “You Got Spirit, Kid: Transmedial Life-Writing Across Time and Space,” Maher charts the music, graphic novels, and fan interactions that comprise the Coheed and Cambria band storyworld. In particular, Maher emphasizes the importance of autobiography for Coheed and Cambria, which bridges between fictional and non-fictional narrative elements. This interplay remains undertheorized within transmedia scholarship, although a few have begun to explicate the use of transmedia life-writing in an activist context (Cati and Piredda; Van Luyn and Klaebe; Riggs). As a result, Maher widens the scope of existing transmedia theory by more thoroughly connecting fictional and autobiographical elements in the same storyworld and considering how serial transmedia storytelling structures may differ when the core component is music.The final three articles take a more experimental approach that actively challenges the existing boundaries of transmedia scholarship. Catherine Lord’s article, “Serial Nuns: Michelle Williams Gamaker’s The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten as Serial and Trans-serial,” explores the unique storytelling structures of a cluster of independent films that traverse time, space, medium, and gender. Although not a traditional transmedia project, since the network includes a novel and film adaptations and extensions by different directors as well as real-world locations and histories, Lord challenges transmedia theorists to imagine storyworlds that include popular history, independent production, and spatial performances and practices. Lord argues that the main character’s trans identity provides an embodied and theoretical pivot within the storyworld, which invites audiences to accept a position of radical mobility where all fixed expectations about the separation between categories of flora and fauna, centre and periphery, the present and the past, as well as authorized and unauthorized extensions, dissolve.In his article “Non-Fiction Transmedia: Seriality and Forensics in Media Sport,” Markus Stauff extends the concept of serial transmedia storyworlds to sport, focusing on an audience-centred perspective. For the most part, transmedia has been theorized with fictional storyworlds as the prototypical examples. A growing number of scholars, including Arnau Gifreu-Castells and Siobhan O'Flynn, enrich our understanding of transmedia storytelling by exploring non-fiction examples, but these are commonly restricted to the documentary genre (Freeman; Gifreu-Castells, Misek, and Verbruggen; Karlsen; Kerrigan and Velikovsky). Very few scholars comment on the transmedia nature of sport coverage and fandom, and when they do so it is often within the framework of transmedia news coverage (Gambarato, Alzamora, and Tárcia; McClearen; Waysdorf). Stauff’s article thus provides a welcome addition to the existing scholarship in this field by theorizing how sport fans construct a user-centred serial transmedia storyworld by piecing together narrative elements across media sources, embodied experiences, and the serialized ritual of sport seasons. In doing so, he points toward ways in which non-fiction transmedia may significantly differ from fictional storyworlds, but he also enriches our understanding of an audience-centred perspective on the construction of transmedia serial narratives.In his artistic practice, Robert Lawrence may most profoundly stretch the existing parameters of transmedia theory. Lawrence’s article, “Locate, Combine, Contradict, Iterate: Serial Strategies for PostInternet Art,” details his decades-long interrogation of transmedia seriality through performative and participatory forms of art that bridge digital space, studio space, and public space. While theatre and fine arts have often been considered through the theoretical lens of intermediality (Bennett, Boenisch, Kattenbelt, Vandsoe), the nexus of transmedia, seriality, and narrative enables Lawrence to describe the complex, interconnected web of planned and unplanned extensions of his hybrid digital and physical installations, which often last for decades and incorporate a global scope. Lawrence thus takes the strategies of engagement that are perhaps more familiar to transmedia theorists from corporate viral marketing campaigns and turns them toward civic ends (Anyiwo, Bourdaa, Hardy, Hassler-Forest, Scolari, Sokolova, Stork). As such, Lawrence’s artistic practice challenges theorists of transmedia and intermedia to consider the kinds of social and political “interventions” that artists and citizens can stage through the networked possibilities of transmedia expression and how the impact of such projects can be amplified through serial repetition.Together, the whole collection opens new pathways for transmedia scholarship, more deeply explores how transmedia narration complicates understandings of seriality, and constructs an international, interdisciplinary dialogue that brings often isolated conversations into contact. In particular, this issue enriches the existing scholarship on independent, artistic, and non-fiction transmedia, while also proposing some important limitations, exceptions, and critiques to existing scholarship featuring corporate transmedia projects with a commercial, top-down structure and a strong auteur-like creator. These diverse case studies and perspectives enable us to understand more inclusively the structures and social functions of transmedia in the pre-digital age, to theorize more robustly how audiences experience transmedia in the current era of experimentation, and to imagine more broadly a complex future for transmedia seriality wherein professionals, artists, and amateurs all engage in an iterative, inclusive process of creative and civic storytelling, transcending artificial borders imposed by discipline, nationalism, capitalism, and medium.ReferencesAnyiwo, U. Melissa. "It’s Not Television, It’s Transmedia Storytelling: Marketing the ‘Real’World of True Blood." True Blood: Investigating Vampires and Southern Gothic. Ed. Brigid Cherry. New York: IB Tauris, 2012. 157-71.Barthes, Roland. "The Death of the Author." Image, Music, Text. Trans. Stephen Heath. Basingstoke: Macmillian, 1988. 142-48.Bennett, Jill. "Aesthetics of Intermediality." Art History 30.3 (2007): 432-450.Boenisch, Peter M. "Aesthetic Art to Aisthetic Act: Theatre, Media, Intermedial Performance." (2006): 103-116.Bourdaa, Melanie. "This Is Not Marketing. This Is HBO: Branding HBO with Transmedia Storytelling." Networking Knowledge: Journal of the MeCCSA Postgraduate Network 7.1 (2014).Cati, Alice, and Maria Francesca Piredda. "Among Drowned Lives: Digital Archives and Migrant Memories in the Age of Transmediality." a/b: Auto/Biography Studies 32.3 (2017): 628-637.Flanagan, Martin, Andrew Livingstone, and Mike McKenny. The Marvel Studios Phenomenon: Inside a Transmedia Universe. New York: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2016.Foucault, Michel. "Authorship: What Is an Author?" Screen 20.1 (1979): 13-34.Freeman, Matthew. "Small Change – Big Difference: Tracking the Transmediality of Red Nose Day." VIEW Journal of European Television History and Culture 5.10 (2016): 87-96.Gambarato, Renira Rampazzo, Geane C. Alzamora, and Lorena Peret Teixeira Tárcia. "2016 Rio Summer Olympics and the Transmedia Journalism of Planned Events." Exploring Transmedia Journalism in the Digital Age. Hershey, PA: IGI Global, 2018. 126-146.Gifreu-Castells, Arnau. "Mapping Trends in Interactive Non-fiction through the Lenses of Interactive Documentary." International Conference on Interactive Digital Storytelling. Berlin: Springer, 2014.Gifreu-Castells, Arnau, Richard Misek, and Erwin Verbruggen. "Transgressing the Non-fiction Transmedia Narrative." VIEW Journal of European Television History and Culture 5.10 (2016): 1-3.Hadas, Leora. "Authorship and Authenticity in the Transmedia Brand: The Case of Marvel's Agents of SHIELD." Networking Knowledge: Journal of the MeCCSA Postgraduate Network 7.1 (2014).Hardy, Jonathan. "Mapping Commercial Intertextuality: HBO’s True Blood." Convergence 17.1 (2011): 7-17.Hassler-Forest, Dan. "Skimmers, Dippers, and Divers: Campfire’s Steve Coulson on Transmedia Marketing and Audience Participation." Participations 13.1 (2016): 682-692.Jenkins, Henry. “Transmedia 202: Further Reflections.” Confessions of an Aca-Fan. 31 July 2011. <http://henryjenkins.org/blog/2011/08/defining_transmedia_further_re.html>. ———. “Transmedia Storytelling 101.” Confessions of an Aca-Fan. 21 Mar. 2007. <http://henryjenkins.org/blog/2007/03/transmedia_storytelling_101.html>. ———. Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide. New York: New York University Press, 2006.Johnson, Derek. Media Franchising: Creative License and Collaboration in the Culture Industries. New York: New York UP, 2013.Karlsen, Joakim. "Aligning Participation with Authorship: Independent Transmedia Documentary Production in Norway." VIEW Journal of European Television History and Culture 5.10 (2016): 40-51.Kattenbelt, Chiel. "Theatre as the Art of the Performer and the Stage of Intermediality." Intermediality in Theatre and Performance 2 (2006): 29-39.Kerrigan, Susan, and J. T. Velikovsky. "Examining Documentary Transmedia Narratives through The Living History of Fort Scratchley Project." Convergence 22.3 (2016): 250-268.Van Luyn, Ariella, and Helen Klaebe. "Making Stories Matter: Using Participatory New Media Storytelling and Evaluation to Serve Marginalized and Regional Communities." Creative Communities: Regional Inclusion and the Arts. Intellect Press, 2015. 157-173.McClearen, Jennifer. "‘We Are All Fighters’: The Transmedia Marketing of Difference in the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC)." International Journal of Communication 11 (2017): 18.Mittell, Jason. "Playing for Plot in the Lost and Portal Franchises." Eludamos: Journal for Computer Game Culture 6.1 (2012): 5-13.O'Flynn, Siobhan. "Documentary's Metamorphic Form: Webdoc, Interactive, Transmedia, Participatory and Beyond." Studies in Documentary Film 6.2 (2012): 141-157.Riggs, Nicholas A. "Leaving Cancerland: Following Bud at the End of Life." Storytelling, Self, Society 10.1 (2014): 78-92.Ryan, Marie-Laure. “Transmedial Storytelling and Transfictionality.” Poetics Today, 34.3 (2013): 361-388. <https://doi.org/10.1215/03335372-2325250>.Scolari, Carlos Alberto. "Transmedia Storytelling: Implicit Consumers, Narrative Worlds, and Branding in Contemporary Media Production." International Journal of Communication 3 (2009).Scott, Suzanne. “Who’s Steering the Mothership: The Role of the Fanboy Auteur in Transmedia Storytelling.” The Participatory Cultures Handbook. Eds. Aaron Delwiche and Jennifer Henderson. New York: Routledge, 2013. 43-53.Sokolova, Natalia. "Co-opting Transmedia Consumers: User Content as Entertainment or ‘Free Labour’? The Cases of STALKER. and Metro 2033." Europe-Asia Studies 64.8 (2012): 1565-1583.Stork, Matthias. "The Cultural Economics of Performance Space: Negotiating Fan, Labor, and Marketing Practice in Glee's Transmedia Geography." Transformative Works & Cultures 15 (2014).Waysdorf, Abby. "My Football Fandoms, Performance, and Place." Transformative Works & Cultures 18 (2015).Vandsoe, Anette. "Listening to the World. Sound, Media and Intermediality in Contemporary Sound Art." SoundEffects – An Interdisciplinary Journal of Sound and Sound Experience 1.1 (2011): 67-81.

To re-imagine can, at one extreme, be a casual thought (what if I moved all the furniture in the living room?) and, at the other, re-imagining can be a complex process (what if I adapt a classic text into a major film?). There is a long history of working with the ideas of others and of re-working our own ideas. Of taking a concept and re-imagining it into something that is similar to the original and yet offers something new. Such re-imaginations are all around us; from the various interpretations of the Sherlock Holmes stories to the adjustments made, often over generations, to family recipes. Some of these efforts are the result of a creative drive to experiment and push boundaries, some efforts are inspired by changes in society or technology, yet others will be born of a sense of 'this can be done better' or 'done differently'. Essentially, to re-imagine is to ask questions, to interrogate that which is often taken for granted. This issue of M/C Journal seeks to explore the 'why' and the 'how' of re-imagining both the everyday and the extraordinary. In a reflection of the scale and scope of the potential to re-imagine all that is around us, this issue is particularly diverse. The contributions offer explorations into varied disciplines, use a range of methodological lenses, and deploy different writing styles. To this end we present a range of articles—some of which contain quite challenging content—that cover copyright, crime fiction, the stage, the literary brand and film, horror and children’s film, television, military-inspired fashion, and a piece that focuses on events leading up to September 11, 2001. We then present three, quite different, works that explore various aspects of Australian Indigenous culture and history. We begin with our feature article: “‘They’re creepy and they’re kooky’ and They’re Copyrighted: How Copyright Is Used to Dampen the (Re-)Imagination”. In this work Steve Collins explores important issues of copyright in the re-imagining and re-purposing of content. In particular, this article unpacks—using examples from the United States—how copyright legislation can restrict the activities of creative practitioners, across varied fields, and so adds to the debate on copyright reform. In our lead article “The Re-imagining Inherent in Crime Fiction Translation”, by Alistair Rolls, ideas of re-imagination, language, and the world’s most popular genre—crime fiction—are critically appraised. Rolls looks at a suite of issues around imagining original and re-imagining, through translation, crime fiction texts. These two forms of creativity are essential to the genre's development for, as Rolls notes, this type of fiction was born, “simultaneously in France and America but also in the translation zone between the two.” Amy Antonio re-imagines the femme fatale. Antonio acknowledges the centrality of the femme fatale to the noir tradition and re-imagines this iconic figure by positioning her on the Renaissance stage, explaining how the historical factors that precipitated the emergence of the noir femme fatale in the years following World War II, similarly existed in the sixteenth century and, as a result, the femme fatale can be re-imagined in a series of Elizabethan and Jacobean plays. The articles in this issue turn from fiction, to theatre, and then to film with Leonie Rutherford embarking on a “Re-imagining the Brand” exercise. Through two, very informative, case studies—Adventures of Tin Tin and Silver, Return to Treasure Island—Rutherford engages with issues of re-imagining classic literary texts as big-screen blockbusters. This article addresses some of the complexities associated with the updating “of classic texts [that] require interpretation and the negotiation of subtle changes in values that have occurred since the creation of the ‘original’.” Erin Hawley also looks at film, through a lens of horror, in “Re-imagining the Horror Genre in Children’s Animated Film”. Hawley explores how animated films have always been an ambiguous space “in terms of age, pleasure, and viewership.” Hawley goes on to challenge common assumptions that “animation itself is often a signifier of safety, fun, nostalgia, and childishness; it is a means of addressing families and young audiences” and outlines how animation complements horror where, “the fantastic and transformative aspects of animation can be powerful tools for telling stories that are dark, surprising, or somehow subversive.” Issues of the small screen, and social media, are reviewed by Karin van Es, Daniela van Geenen, and Thomas Boeschoten in their work of “Re-imagining Television Audience Research on Twitter”. In particular, this work highlights issues with how audience research is undertaken and argues for new ways forward that adapt to the changing viewing landscape: one that features social media as an increasingly important tool for people to engage with more traditional types of entertainment. Fashion, too, features within this special issue with the work Emerald L. King and Denise N. Rall, “Re-imagining the Empire of Japan through Japanese Schoolboy Uniforms”. King and Rall present their research into the significant re-imagining of Japanese cultural and national identities, which are explored in this work through the cataclysmic impact of Western ideologies on Japanese cultural traditions. The idea of re-imagining is challenged by Meg Stalcup through her article “What If? Re-imagined Scenarios and the Re-virtualisation of History” which looks at several events that took place in the lead up to September 11, 2001. Several of the men who would become 9/11 hijackers were stopped for minor traffic violations. Police officers in the United States replayed these incidents of contact, yet their questioning “what if?” asked not only if those moments could have revealed the plot of that traumatic day, but also places alternate scenarios into play. John C. Ryan, Danielle Brady, and Christopher Kueh guide us through a geographical re-imagining of one of Australia’s capital cities in “Where Fanny Balbuk Walked: Re-imagining Perth’s Wetlands through Digital Modelling”. This re-imagining of a major city’s natural environment calls “attention to past indiscretions while invigorating future possibilities.” Moreover, this work highlights the value of re-imagining a city anew as well as re-imagining the original after a process of considerable change. Rachel Franks traces the history of an effort to communicate the concept of equality under the law, to the Indigenous peoples of Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania), in “A True Crime Tale: Re-imagining Governor Arthur’s Proclamation Board for the Tasmanian Aborigines”. This article provides an overview of some of the various re-imaginings of this Board—including the re-imagining of the Board’s history—and also offers a new re-imagination of this curious, colonial object; positing that the Board serves as an early “pamphlet” on justice and punishment. Brooke Collins-Gearing, Vivien Cadungog, Sophie Camilleri, Erin Comensoli, Elissa Duncan, Leitesha Green, Adam Phillips, and Rebecca Stone take a very different, and rather creative, approach to re-imagining with “Listenin’ Up: Re-Imagining Ourselves through Stories of and from Country” a work that explores Western discourses of education; and looks at ways to engage with Aboriginal knowledge through the pedagogical and personal act of listening. These authors attempt to re-imagine “the institutionalised space of our classroom through a dialogic pedagogy.” These articles are, necessarily, brief. Yet, each work does provide insight into various aspects of the re-imagining process while offering new perspectives on how re-imagining takes place—in material culture, learning practices, or in all important media re-interpretations of the world around us. We extend our thanks to our contributors. We thank, too, all those who engaged in the blind peer review process. We sincerely appreciate the efforts of those who offered their expertise and their time as well as offering valuable comments on a wide range of contributions. Rachel Franks, Simon Dwyer, and Denise N. RallEditors

When George Orwell encountered ideas of a technological utopia sixty-five years ago, he acted the grumpy middle-aged man Reading recently a batch of rather shallowly optimistic “progressive” books, I was struck by the automatic way in which people go on repeating certain phrases which were fashionable before 1914. Two great favourites are “the abolition of distance” and “the disappearance of frontiers”. I do not know how often I have met with the statements that “the aeroplane and the radio have abolished distance” and “all parts of the world are now interdependent” (1944). It is worth revisiting the old boy’s grumpiness, because the rhetoric he so niftily skewers continues in our own time. Facebook features “Peace on Facebook” and even claims that it can “decrease world conflict” through inter-cultural communication. Twitter has announced itself as “a triumph of humanity” (“A Cyber-House” 61). Queue George. In between Orwell and latter-day hoody cybertarians, a whole host of excitable public intellectuals announced the impending end of materiality through emergent media forms. Marshall McLuhan, Neil Postman, Daniel Bell, Ithiel de Sola Pool, George Gilder, Alvin Toffler—the list of 1960s futurists goes on and on. And this wasn’t just a matter of punditry: the OECD decreed the coming of the “information society” in 1975 and the European Union (EU) followed suit in 1979, while IBM merrily declared an “information age” in 1977. Bell theorized this technological utopia as post-ideological, because class would cease to matter (Mattelart). Polluting industries seemingly no longer represented the dynamic core of industrial capitalism; instead, market dynamism radiated from a networked, intellectual core of creative and informational activities. The new information and knowledge-based economies would rescue First World hegemony from an “insurgent world” that lurked within as well as beyond itself (Schiller). Orwell’s others and the Cold-War futurists propagated one of the most destructive myths shaping both public debate and scholarly studies of the media, culture, and communication. They convinced generations of analysts, activists, and arrivistes that the promises and problems of the media could be understood via metaphors of the environment, and that the media were weightless and virtual. The famous medium they wished us to see as the message —a substance as vital to our wellbeing as air, water, and soil—turned out to be no such thing. Today’s cybertarians inherit their anti-Marxist, anti-materialist positions, as a casual glance at any new media journal, culture-industry magazine, or bourgeois press outlet discloses. The media are undoubtedly important instruments of social cohesion and fragmentation, political power and dissent, democracy and demagoguery, and other fraught extensions of human consciousness. But talk of media systems as equivalent to physical ecosystems—fashionable among marketers and media scholars alike—is predicated on the notion that they are environmentally benign technologies. This has never been true, from the beginnings of print to today’s cloud-covered computing. Our new book Greening the Media focuses on the environmental impact of the media—the myriad ways that media technology consumes, despoils, and wastes natural resources. We introduce ideas, stories, and facts that have been marginal or absent from popular, academic, and professional histories of media technology. Throughout, ecological issues have been at the core of our work and we immodestly think the same should apply to media communications, and cultural studies more generally. We recognize that those fields have contributed valuable research and teaching that address environmental questions. For instance, there is an abundant literature on representations of the environment in cinema, how to communicate environmental messages successfully, and press coverage of climate change. That’s not enough. You may already know that media technologies contain toxic substances. You may have signed an on-line petition protesting the hazardous and oppressive conditions under which workers assemble cell phones and computers. But you may be startled, as we were, by the scale and pervasiveness of these environmental risks. They are present in and around every site where electronic and electric devices are manufactured, used, and thrown away, poisoning humans, animals, vegetation, soil, air and water. We are using the term “media” as a portmanteau word to cover a multitude of cultural and communications machines and processes—print, film, radio, television, information and communications technologies (ICT), and consumer electronics (CE). This is not only for analytical convenience, but because there is increasing overlap between the sectors. CE connect to ICT and vice versa; televisions resemble computers; books are read on telephones; newspapers are written through clouds; and so on. Cultural forms and gadgets that were once separate are now linked. The currently fashionable notion of convergence doesn’t quite capture the vastness of this integration, which includes any object with a circuit board, scores of accessories that plug into it, and a global nexus of labor and environmental inputs and effects that produce and flow from it. In 2007, a combination of ICT/CE and media production accounted for between 2 and 3 percent of all greenhouse gases emitted around the world (“Gartner Estimates,”; International Telecommunication Union; Malmodin et al.). Between twenty and fifty million tonnes of electronic waste (e-waste) are generated annually, much of it via discarded cell phones and computers, which affluent populations throw out regularly in order to buy replacements. (Presumably this fits the narcissism of small differences that distinguishes them from their own past.) E-waste is historically produced in the Global North—Australasia, Western Europe, Japan, and the US—and dumped in the Global South—Latin America, Africa, Eastern Europe, Southern and Southeast Asia, and China. It takes the form of a thousand different, often deadly, materials for each electrical and electronic gadget. This trend is changing as India and China generate their own media detritus (Robinson; Herat). Enclosed hard drives, backlit screens, cathode ray tubes, wiring, capacitors, and heavy metals pose few risks while these materials remain encased. But once discarded and dismantled, ICT/CE have the potential to expose workers and ecosystems to a morass of toxic components. Theoretically, “outmoded” parts could be reused or swapped for newer parts to refurbish devices. But items that are defined as waste undergo further destruction in order to collect remaining parts and valuable metals, such as gold, silver, copper, and rare-earth elements. This process causes serious health risks to bones, brains, stomachs, lungs, and other vital organs, in addition to birth defects and disrupted biological development in children. Medical catastrophes can result from lead, cadmium, mercury, other heavy metals, poisonous fumes emitted in search of precious metals, and such carcinogenic compounds as polychlorinated biphenyls, dioxin, polyvinyl chloride, and flame retardants (Maxwell and Miller 13). The United States’ Environmental Protection Agency estimates that by 2007 US residents owned approximately three billion electronic devices, with an annual turnover rate of 400 million units, and well over half such purchases made by women. Overall CE ownership varied with age—adults under 45 typically boasted four gadgets; those over 65 made do with one. The Consumer Electronics Association (CEA) says US$145 billion was expended in the sector in 2006 in the US alone, up 13% on the previous year. The CEA refers joyously to a “consumer love affair with technology continuing at a healthy clip.” In the midst of a recession, 2009 saw $165 billion in sales, and households owned between fifteen and twenty-four gadgets on average. By 2010, US$233 billion was spent on electronic products, three-quarters of the population owned a computer, nearly half of all US adults owned an MP3 player, and 85% had a cell phone. By all measures, the amount of ICT/CE on the planet is staggering. As investigative science journalist, Elizabeth Grossman put it: “no industry pushes products into the global market on the scale that high-tech electronics does” (Maxwell and Miller 2). In 2007, “of the 2.25 million tons of TVs, cell phones and computer products ready for end-of-life management, 18% (414,000 tons) was collected for recycling and 82% (1.84 million tons) was disposed of, primarily in landfill” (Environmental Protection Agency 1). Twenty million computers fell obsolete across the US in 1998, and the rate was 130,000 a day by 2005. It has been estimated that the five hundred million personal computers discarded in the US between 1997 and 2007 contained 6.32 billion pounds of plastics, 1.58 billion pounds of lead, three million pounds of cadmium, 1.9 million pounds of chromium, and 632000 pounds of mercury (Environmental Protection Agency; Basel Action Network and Silicon Valley Toxics Coalition 6). The European Union is expected to generate upwards of twelve million tons annually by 2020 (Commission of the European Communities 17). While refrigerators and dangerous refrigerants account for the bulk of EU e-waste, about 44% of the most toxic e-waste measured in 2005 came from medium-to-small ICT/CE: computer monitors, TVs, printers, ink cartridges, telecommunications equipment, toys, tools, and anything with a circuit board (Commission of the European Communities 31-34). Understanding the enormity of the environmental problems caused by making, using, and disposing of media technologies should arrest our enthusiasm for them. But intellectual correctives to the “love affair” with technology, or technophilia, have come and gone without establishing much of a foothold against the breathtaking flood of gadgets and the propaganda that proclaims their awe-inspiring capabilities.[i] There is a peculiar enchantment with the seeming magic of wireless communication, touch-screen phones and tablets, flat-screen high-definition televisions, 3-D IMAX cinema, mobile computing, and so on—a totemic, quasi-sacred power that the historian of technology David Nye has named the technological sublime (Nye Technological Sublime 297).[ii] We demonstrate in our book why there is no place for the technological sublime in projects to green the media. But first we should explain why such symbolic power does not accrue to more mundane technologies; after all, for the time-strapped cook, a pressure cooker does truly magical things. Three important qualities endow ICT/CE with unique symbolic potency—virtuality, volume, and novelty. The technological sublime of media technology is reinforced by the “virtual nature of much of the industry’s content,” which “tends to obscure their responsibility for a vast proliferation of hardware, all with high levels of built-in obsolescence and decreasing levels of efficiency” (Boyce and Lewis 5). Planned obsolescence entered the lexicon as a new “ethics” for electrical engineering in the 1920s and ’30s, when marketers, eager to “habituate people to buying new products,” called for designs to become quickly obsolete “in efficiency, economy, style, or taste” (Grossman 7-8).[iii] This defines the short lifespan deliberately constructed for computer systems (drives, interfaces, operating systems, batteries, etc.) by making tiny improvements incompatible with existing hardware (Science and Technology Council of the American Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences 33-50; Boyce and Lewis). With planned obsolescence leading to “dizzying new heights” of product replacement (Rogers 202), there is an overstated sense of the novelty and preeminence of “new” media—a “cult of the present” is particularly dazzled by the spread of electronic gadgets through globalization (Mattelart and Constantinou 22). References to the symbolic power of media technology can be found in hymnals across the internet and the halls of academe: technologies change us, the media will solve social problems or create new ones, ICTs transform work, monopoly ownership no longer matters, journalism is dead, social networking enables social revolution, and the media deliver a cleaner, post-industrial, capitalism. Here is a typical example from the twilight zone of the technological sublime (actually, the OECD): A major feature of the knowledge-based economy is the impact that ICTs have had on industrial structure, with a rapid growth of services and a relative decline of manufacturing. Services are typically less energy intensive and less polluting, so among those countries with a high and increasing share of services, we often see a declining energy intensity of production … with the emergence of the Knowledge Economy ending the old linear relationship between output and energy use (i.e. partially de-coupling growth and energy use) (Houghton 1) This statement mixes half-truths and nonsense. In reality, old-time, toxic manufacturing has moved to the Global South, where it is ascendant; pollution levels are rising worldwide; and energy consumption is accelerating in residential and institutional sectors, due almost entirely to ICT/CE usage, despite advances in energy conservation technology (a neat instance of the age-old Jevons Paradox). In our book we show how these are all outcomes of growth in ICT/CE, the foundation of the so-called knowledge-based economy. ICT/CE are misleadingly presented as having little or no material ecological impact. In the realm of everyday life, the sublime experience of electronic machinery conceals the physical work and material resources that go into them, while the technological sublime makes the idea that more-is-better palatable, axiomatic; even sexy. In this sense, the technological sublime relates to what Marx called “the Fetishism which attaches itself to the products of labour” once they are in the hands of the consumer, who lusts after them as if they were “independent beings” (77). There is a direct but unseen relationship between technology’s symbolic power and the scale of its environmental impact, which the economist Juliet Schor refers to as a “materiality paradox” —the greater the frenzy to buy goods for their transcendent or nonmaterial cultural meaning, the greater the use of material resources (40-41). We wrote Greening the Media knowing that a study of the media’s effect on the environment must work especially hard to break the enchantment that inflames popular and elite passions for media technologies. We understand that the mere mention of the political-economic arrangements that make shiny gadgets possible, or the environmental consequences of their appearance and disappearance, is bad medicine. It’s an unwelcome buzz kill—not a cool way to converse about cool stuff. But we didn’t write the book expecting to win many allies among high-tech enthusiasts and ICT/CE industry leaders. We do not dispute the importance of information and communication media in our lives and modern social systems. We are media people by profession and personal choice, and deeply immersed in the study and use of emerging media technologies. But we think it’s time for a balanced assessment with less hype and more practical understanding of the relationship of media technologies to the biosphere they inhabit. Media consumers, designers, producers, activists, researchers, and policy makers must find new and effective ways to move ICT/CE production and consumption toward ecologically sound practices. In the course of this project, we found in casual conversation, lecture halls, classroom discussions, and correspondence, consistent and increasing concern with the environmental impact of media technology, especially the deleterious effects of e-waste toxins on workers, air, water, and soil. We have learned that the grip of the technological sublime is not ironclad. Its instability provides a point of departure for investigating and criticizing the relationship between the media and the environment. The media are, and have been for a long time, intimate environmental participants. Media technologies are yesterday’s, today’s, and tomorrow’s news, but rarely in the way they should be. The prevailing myth is that the printing press, telegraph, phonograph, photograph, cinema, telephone, wireless radio, television, and internet changed the world without changing the Earth. In reality, each technology has emerged by despoiling ecosystems and exposing workers to harmful environments, a truth obscured by symbolic power and the power of moguls to set the terms by which such technologies are designed and deployed. Those who benefit from ideas of growth, progress, and convergence, who profit from high-tech innovation, monopoly, and state collusion—the military-industrial-entertainment-academic complex and multinational commandants of labor—have for too long ripped off the Earth and workers. As the current celebration of media technology inevitably winds down, perhaps it will become easier to comprehend that digital wonders come at the expense of employees and ecosystems. This will return us to Max Weber’s insistence that we understand technology in a mundane way as a “mode of processing material goods” (27). Further to understanding that ordinariness, we can turn to the pioneering conversation analyst Harvey Sacks, who noted three decades ago “the failures of technocratic dreams [:] that if only we introduced some fantastic new communication machine the world will be transformed.” Such fantasies derived from the very banality of these introductions—that every time they took place, one more “technical apparatus” was simply “being made at home with the rest of our world’ (548). Media studies can join in this repetitive banality. Or it can withdraw the welcome mat for media technologies that despoil the Earth and wreck the lives of those who make them. In our view, it’s time to green the media by greening media studies. 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Brussels: Commission of the European Communities, 3 Dec. 2008. Environmental Protection Agency. Management of Electronic Waste in the United States. Washington, DC: EPA, 2007 Environmental Protection Agency. Statistics on the Management of Used and End-of-Life Electronics. Washington, DC: EPA, 2008 Grossman, Elizabeth. Tackling High-Tech Trash: The E-Waste Explosion & What We Can Do about It. New York: Demos, 2008. ‹http://www.demos.org/pubs/e-waste_FINAL.pdf› Herat, Sunil. “Review: Sustainable Management of Electronic Waste (e-Waste).” Clean 35.4 (2007): 305-10. Houghton, J. “ICT and the Environment in Developing Countries: Opportunities and Developments.” Paper prepared for the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, 2009. International Telecommunication Union. ICTs for Environment: Guidelines for Developing Countries, with a Focus on Climate Change. 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Maxwell, Richard and Toby Miller. Greening the Media. New York: Oxford University Press, 2012. Nye, David E. American Technological Sublime. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1994. Nye, David E. Technology Matters: Questions to Live With. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press. 2007. Orwell, George. “As I Please.” Tribune. 12 May 1944. Richtel, Matt. “Consumers Hold on to Products Longer.” New York Times: B1, 26 Feb. 2011. Robinson, Brett H. “E-Waste: An Assessment of Global Production and Environmental Impacts.” Science of the Total Environment 408.2 (2009): 183-91. Rogers, Heather. Gone Tomorrow: The Hidden Life of Garbage. New York: New Press, 2005. Sacks, Harvey. Lectures on Conversation. Vols. I and II. Ed. Gail Jefferson. Malden: Blackwell, 1995. Schiller, Herbert I. Information and the Crisis Economy. Norwood: Ablex Publishing, 1984. Schor, Juliet B. Plenitude: The New Economics of True Wealth. New York: Penguin, 2010. Science and Technology Council of the American Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. The Digital Dilemma: Strategic Issues in Archiving and Accessing Digital Motion Picture Materials. Los Angeles: Academy Imprints, 2007. Weber, Max. “Remarks on Technology and Culture.” Trans. Beatrix Zumsteg and Thomas M. Kemple. Ed. Thomas M. Kemple. Theory, Culture [i] The global recession that began in 2007 has been the main reason for some declines in Global North energy consumption, slower turnover in gadget upgrades, and longer periods of consumer maintenance of electronic goods (Richtel). [ii] The emergence of the technological sublime has been attributed to the Western triumphs in the post-Second World War period, when technological power supposedly supplanted the power of nature to inspire fear and astonishment (Nye Technology Matters 28). Historian Mario Biagioli explains how the sublime permeates everyday life through technoscience: "If around 1950 the popular imaginary placed science close to the military and away from the home, today’s technoscience frames our everyday life at all levels, down to our notion of the self" (818). [iii] This compulsory repetition is seemingly undertaken each time as a novelty, governed by what German cultural critic Walter Benjamin called, in his awkward but occasionally illuminating prose, "the ever-always-the-same" of "mass-production" cloaked in "a hitherto unheard-of significance" (48).

It is difficult to imagine, in this age of generic, impersonal computers and corporations, a time when individually-branded computer hardware attracted phenomenal and fanatical loyalty and devotion from their users. Sure, today you might see the occasional Windows95-vs-Linux flame war on the computing newsgroups, but that's just fighting over software, which is different. I won't explain how, it's complex. The 1980s were the age of the home computer. They were touted as complete computing solutions on which you could do an assignment, write a letter, experiment with BASIC programming, and play the occasional game if the mood took you. The first of these that achieved massive popularity in the early '80s was the Commodore 64, a machine with an 8-bit processor, a three voice mono sound chip, 16 colours and attitude to the hilt. Soon after (around 1984) came the Apple Macintosh, a simple machine that could only display two colours, but had a mouse and a rudimentary multitasking operating system, and, more through inspired marketing than anything else, its unique identity found it a niche that IBM couldn't touch. 1985 was the year when the home computer came of age with the introduction of Commodore's Amiga. If you pushed it, the Amiga could do 4096 colours at once, and it had stereo sound. It was designed by Californian surfers who loved the B-52s (the first motherboard was called the Rock Lobster, and when the machine crashed, up popped a sign saying "Guru Meditation Error"), and it was a dream in beige plastic. By today's standards, the games and programs available were unsophisticated, and so was the hardware. On the other hand the software was cheap and the hardware was expensive. But still, the limitations imposed forced the programmers of the time to create ingenious solutions, and push the hardware to the limit. Many of the games of the period still look reasonable today, and they certainly play a lot better. And so a generation grew up with these ingenious and creative machines. Part of the appeal was the idea of standing up against a dominant culture, typified by the monolithic IBM and its business-oriented, resolutely identity-less PC, a machine which proved so featureless as to be mimicked, or cloned, by countless other manufacturers. By the mid-1990s, however, things weren't looking so good for the home computer. Commodore had gone bankrupt (although its curse lives on, bankrupting any company that tries to buy the brand) and the Amiga was far behind the curve in technical specifications (rumours persist that the engineers had lost the machine's blueprints, forcing them to "hack", or reverse-engineer the hardware). The majority of casual users slowly left the platform (although many dedicated acolytes remain), migrating to IBM PC clones, with the temptations of lower costs, standardised software -- and the problem of having the worst operating system ever devised for a computer. The late 1990s, and computer processor power had advanced to the level that it was possible to produce software that could create a virtual computer inside a real computer's memory. The program would emulate the hardware, instruction set and operating environment of the original machine, and allow the software especially written for the machine to be used on an entirely different computer. The first steps were to emulate the simple computers and video game consoles of the early eighties. Once we saw a Commodore 64 screen running on a PC, it was obvious that anything was possible. The discourse of technology is inexorably linked with a modernist notion of evolution, progress and advancement. Why then would computer users with the most powerful domestic computing hardware available choose to cripple these machines by using them to run a ten-year-old operating system and software. One answer is that this old software could do things that would be impossible on even today's machines. But perhaps these things fill a more abstract, less pragmatic need. An identification with a coherent subculture. A return to rebellion against the mainstream. One thing is sure: humans will colonise and give life to anything, even something as seemingly cold and lifeless as a computer. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Nick Caldwell. "Computer Emulation: A Digital Masquerade." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 1.3 (1998). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9810/emul.php>. Chicago style: Nick Caldwell, "Computer Emulation: A Digital Masquerade," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 1, no. 3 (1998), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9810/emul.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Nick Caldwell. (199x) Computer emulation: a digital masquerade. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 1(3). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9810/emul.php> ([your date of access])

Introduction In an era of upheaval and uncertainty for higher education institutions around the world, scholars, like those in many in other professions, are increasingly using social media to build communities around mutual support and professional development. These communities appear to offer opportunities for participants to exert more positive influence over the types of interactions they engage in with colleagues, in many cases being valued as more altruistic, transformational, or supportive than established academic structures (Gibson, and Gibbs; Mewburn, and Thomson; Maitzen). What has been described as ‘digital scholarship’ applies social media to “different facets of scholarly activity in a helpful and productive way” (Carrigan 5), with online scholarly communities being likened to evolutions of face-to-face practices including peer mentoring (Ferguson, and Wheat) or a “virtual staffroom” (Mewburn, and Thomson). To a large extent, these accounts of scholarly practice adapted for digital media have resonance. From writing groups (O’Dwyer, McDonough, Jefferson, Goff, and Redman-MacLaren) to conference attendance (Spilker, Silva, and Morgado) and funding (Osimo, Priego, and Vuorikari), the transformational possibilities of social media have been applied to almost every facet of existing academic practices. These practices have increasingly attracted scrutiny from higher education institutions, with social media profiles of staff both a potential asset and risk to institutions’ brands. Around the world, institutions use social media for marketing, student recruitment, student support and alumni communication (Palmer). As such, social media policies have emerged in recent years in attempts to ensure staff engage in ways that align with the interests of their employers (Solberg; Carrigan). However, engagement via social media is also still largely considered “supplementary to ‘real’ scholarly work” (Mussell 347).Paralleling this trend, guides to effectively managing an online profile as a component of professional reputation have also become increasingly common (e.g. Carrigan). While public relations and management literatures have approached reputation management in terms of how an organisation is regarded by its multiple stakeholders (Fombrun) this is increasingly being applied to individuals on social media. According to Gandini a “reputation economy” (22) has come to function for knowledge workers who seek to cultivate a reputation as a good community member through sociality in order to secure more (or better) work.The popularity of professional social media communities and scrutiny of participants raises questions about the work involved in building and participating in them. This article explores these questions through analysis of tweets from the first year of #ECRchat, a Twitter group for early career researchers (ECRs). The group was established in 2012 to provide an opportunity for ECRs (typically within five years of PhD completion) to discuss career-related issues. Since it was founded, the group has been administered through partnerships between early career scholars using a Twitter account (@ECRchat) and a blog. Tweets, the posts of 140 characters or fewer, which appear on a user’s profile and in followers’ feeds (Twitter) are organised into a ‘chat’ by participants through the use of the hashtag ‘#ECRchat’. Participants vote on chat topics and take on the role of hosting on a volunteer basis. The explicit career focus of this group provides an ideal case study to explore how work is represented in an online professionally-focused community, in order to reflect on what this might mean for the norms of knowledge work.Digital Labour The impact of Internet Communication Technologies (ICT), including social media, on the lives of workers has long been a source of both concern and hope. Mobile devices, wireless Internet and associated communications software enable increasing numbers of people to take work home. This flexibility has been welcomed as the means by which workers might more successfully access jobs and manage competing commitments (Raja, Imaizumi, Kelly, Narimatsu, and Paradi-Guilford). However, hours worked from home are often unpaid and carry with them a strong likelihood of interfering with rest, recreation and family time (Pocock and Skinner). Melissa Gregg describes this as “presence bleed” (2): the dilutions of focus from everyday activities as workers increasingly use electronic devices to ‘check in’ during non-work time. Moving beyond the limitations of this work-life balance approach, which tends to over-state divisions between employment and other everyday life practices, a growing literature seeks to address work in online environments by analysing the types of labour being practiced, rather than seeing such practices as adjunct to physical workplaces. Responding to claims that digital communication heralds a new age of greater freedom, creativity and democratic participation, this work draws attention to the reliance of such networks on unpaid labour (e.g. Hearn; Hesmondhalgh) with ratings, reviews and relationship maintenance serving business’ economic ends alongside the individual interests which motivate participants. The immaterial, affective, and often precarious labour that has been observed is “simultaneously voluntarily given and unwaged, enjoyed and exploited” (Terranova). This work builds particularly on feminist analysis of work (see McRobbie for a discussion of this), with behind the scenes moderator, convenor, and community builder roles largely female and largely unrecognised, be they activist (Gleeson), creative (Duffy) or consumer (Arcy) groups. For some, this suggests the emergence of a new ‘women’s work’ of affective immaterial labour which goes into building transformational communities (Jarrett). Yet, digital labour has not yet been foregrounded within research into higher education, where it is largely practiced in the messy intersections of employment, unpaid professional development, and leisure. Joyce Goggin argues that convergence of these spheres is a feature of digital labour. Consequently, this article seeks to add a consideration of digital labour, specifically the cultural politics of work that emerge in these spaces, to the literature on digital practices as a translation of existing academic responsibilities online. In the context of widespread concerns over academic workload and job market (Bentley, Coates, Dobson, Goedegebuure, and Meek) and the growing international engagement and impact agenda (Priem, Piwowar, and Hemminger), it raises questions about the implications of these practices. Researching Twitter Communities This article analyses tweets from the publicly available Twitter timeline, containing the hashtag #ECRchat, during scheduled chats, from 1 July 2012 to 31 July 2013 (the first year of operation). Initially, all tweets in this time period were analysed in anonymised form to determine the most commonly mentioned topics during chats. This content analysis removed the most common English language words, such as: the; it; I; and RT (which stands for retweet), which would otherwise appear as top results in almost any content analysis regardless of the community of interest. This was followed by qualitative analysis of tweets, to explore in more depth how important issues were articulated and rationalised within the group. This draws on Catherine Driscoll’s and Melissa Gregg’s idea of “sympathetic online cultural studies” which seeks to explore online communities first and foremost as communities rather than as exemplars of online communications (15-20). Here, a narrative approach was undertaken to analyse how participants curated, made sense of, and explained their own career stories (drawing on Pamphilon). Although I do not claim that participants are representative of all ECRs, or that the ideas given the most attention during chats are representative of the experiences of all participants, representations of work articulated here are suggestive of the kinds of public utterances that were considered reasonable within this open online space. Participants are identified according to the twitter handle and user name they had chosen to use for the chats being analysed. This is because the practical infeasibility of guaranteeing online anonymity (readers need only to Google the text of any tweet to associate it with a particular user, in most cases) and the importance of actively involving participants as agents in the research process, in part by identifying them as authors of their own stories, rather than informants (e.g. Butz; Evans; Svalastog and Eriksson).Representations of Work in #ECRchat The co-creation of the #ECRchat community through participant hosts and community votes on chat topics gave rise to a discussion group that was heavily focused on ‘the work’ of academia, including its importance in the lives of participants, relative appeal over other options, and negative effects on leisure time. I was clear that participants regarded participation as serving their professional interests, despite participation not being paid or formally recognised by employers. With the exception of two discussions focused on making decisions about the future of the group, #ECRchat discussions during the year of analysis focused on topics designed to help participants succeed at work such as “career progression and planning”, “different routes to postdoc funding”, and “collaboration”. At a micro-level, ‘work’ (and related terms) was the most frequently used term in #ECRchat, with its total number of uses (1372) almost double that of research (700), the next most used term. Comments during the chats reiterated this emphasis: “It’s all about the work. Be decent to people and jump through the hoops you need to, but always keep your eyes on the work” (Magennis).The depth of participants’ commitment comes through strongly in discussions comparing academic work with other options: “pretty much everyone I know with ‘real jobs’ hates their work. I feel truly lucky to say that I love mine #ECRchat” (McGettigan). This was seen in particular in the discussion about ‘careers outside academia’. Hashtags such as #altac (referring to alternative-academic careers such as university research support or learning and teaching administration roles) and #postac (referring to PhD holders working outside of universities in research or non-research roles) used both alongside the #ECRchat hashtag and separately, provide an ongoing site of these kinds of representations. While participants in #ECRchat sought to shift this perception and were critically aware that it could lead to undesirable outcomes: “PhDs and ECRs in Humanities don’t seem to consider working outside of academia – that limits their engagement with training #ECRchat” (Faculty of Humanities at the University of Manchester), such discussions frequently describe alternative academic careers as a ‘backup plan’, should academic employment not be found. Additionally, many participants suggested that their working hours were excessive, extending the professional into personal spaces and times in ways that they did not see as positive. This was often described as the only way to achieve success: “I hate to say it, but one of the best ways to improve track record is to work 70+ hours a week, every week. Forever. #ecrchat” (Dunn). One of the key examples of this dynamic was the scheduling of the chat itself. When founded in 2012, #ECRchat ran in the Australian evening and UK morning, eliding the personal/work distinction for both its coordinators and participants. While considerable discussion was concerned with scheduling the chat during times when a large number of international participants could attend, this discussion centred on waking rather than working hours. The use of scheduled tweets and shared work between convenors in different time zones (Australia and the United Kingdom) maintained an around the clock online presence, extending well beyond the ordinary working hours of any individual participant.Personal Disclosure The norms that were articulated in #ECRchat are perhaps not surprising for a group of participants seeking to establish themselves in a profession where a long-hours culture and work-life interference are common (Bentley, Coates, Dobson, Goedegebuure, and Meek). However, what is notable is that participation frequently involved the extension of the personal into the professional and in support of professional aims. In the chat’s first year, an element of personal disclosure and support for others became key to acting as a good community member. Beyond the well-established norms of white collar workers demonstrating professionalism by deploying “courtesy, helpfulness, and kindness” (Mills xvii), this community building relied on personal disclosure which to some extent collapsed personal and professional boundaries.By disclosing individual struggles, anxieties, and past experiences participants contributed to a culture of support. This largely functioned through discussions of work stress rather than leisure: “I definitely don’t have [work-life balance]. I think it’s because I don’t have a routine so work and home constantly blend into one another” (Feely). Arising from these discussions, ideas to help participants better navigate and build academic careers was one of the main ways this community support and concern was practiced: “I think I’m often more productive and less anxious if I'm working on a couple of things in parallel, too #ecrchat” (Brian).Activities such as preparing meals, caring for family, and leisure activities, became part of the discussion. “@snarkyphd Sorry, late, had to deal with toddler. Also new; currently doing casual teaching/industry work & applying for postdocs #ecrchat” (Ronald). Exclusively professional profiles were considered less engaging than the combination of personal and professional that most participants adopted: “@jeanmadams I’ve answered a few queries on ResearchGate, but agree lack of non-work opinions / personality makes them dull #ecrchat” (Tennant). However, this is not to suggest that these networks become indistinguishable from more informal, personal, or leisurely uses of social media: “@networkedres My ‘professional’ online identity is slightly more guarded than my ‘facebook’ id which is for friends and family #ECRchat” (Wheat). Instead, disclosure of certain kinds of work struggles came to function as a positive contribution to a more reflexive professionalism. In the context of work-focused discussion, #ECRchat opens important spaces for scholars to question norms they considered damaging or at least make these tacit norms explicit and receive support to manage them. Affective Labour The professional goals and focus of #ECRchat, combined with the personal support and disclosure that forms the basis for the supportive elements in this group is arguably one of its strongest and most important elements. Mark Carrigan suggests that the practices of revealing something of the struggles we experience could form the basis for a new collegiality, where common experiences which had previously not been discussed publicly are for the first time recognised as systemic, not individual challenges. However, there is work required to provide context and support for these emotional experiences which is largely invisible here, as has typically been the case in other communities. Such ‘affective labour’ “involves the production and manipulation of affect and requires (virtual or actual) human contact, labour in the bodily mode … the labour is immaterial, even if it is corporeal and affective, in the sense that its products are intangible, a feeling of ease, well-being, satisfaction, excitement or passion” (Hardt, and Negri 292). In #ECRchat, this ranges from managing the schedule and organising discussions – which involves following up offers to help, assisting people to understand the task, and then ensuring things go ahead as planned –to support offered by members of the group within discussions. This occurs in the overlaps between personal and professional representations, taking a variety of forms from everyday reassurance, affirmation, and patience: “Sorry to hear - hang in there. Hope you have a good support network. #ECRchat” (Galea) to empathy often articulated alongside the disclosure discussed earlier: “The feeling of guilt over not working sounds VERY familiar! #ecrchat” (Vredeveldt).The point here is not to suggest that this work is not sufficiently valued by participants, or that it does not parallel the kinds of work undertaken in more formal job roles, including in academia, where management, conference convening or participation in professional societies, and teaching, as just a few examples, involve degrees of affective labour. However, as a consequence of the (semi)public nature of these groups, the interactions observed here appear to represent a new inflection of professional reputation work, where, in building online professional communities, individuals peg their professional reputations to these forms of affective labour. Importantly, given the explicitly professional nature of the group, these efforts are not counted as part of the formal workload of those involved, be they employed (temporarily or more securely) inside or outside universities, or not in the paid workforce. Conclusion A growing body of literature demonstrates that online academic communities can provide opportunities for collegiality, professional development, and support: particularly among emerging scholars. These accounts demonstrate the value of digital scholarly practices across a range of academic work. However, this article’s discussion of the work undertaken to build and maintain #ECRchat in its first year suggests that these practices at the messy intersections of employment, unpaid professional development, and leisure constitute a new inflection of professional reputation and service work. This work involves publicly building a reputation as a good community member through a combination of personal disclosure and affective labour.In the context of growing emphasis on the economic, social, and other impacts of academic research and concerns over work intensification, this raises questions about possible scope for, and impact of, formal recognition of digital academic labour. While institutions’ work planning and promotion processes may provide opportunities to recognise work developing professional societies or conferences as a leadership or service to a discipline, this new digital service work remains outside the purview of such recognition and reward systems. Further research into the relationships between academic reputation and digital labour will be needed to explore the implications of this for institutions and academics alike. 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Tweet.Wheat, Katherine (@KL_Wheat). “@networkedres My ‘professional’ online identity is slightly more guarded than my ‘facebook’ id which is for friends and family #ECRchat” (15 Nov. 2012, 19:27). Tweet.

I remember the first time I saw a dead body. I spawned just before dawn; around me engines were clattering into life, the dim silhouettes of tanks beginning to move out in a steady grinding rumble. I could dimly make out a few other people, the anonymity of their shadowy outlines belied by the names hanging over their heads in a comforting blue. Suddenly, a stream of tracers arced across the sky; explosions sounded nearby, then closer still; a tank ahead of me stopped, turned sluggishly, and fired off a couple of rounds, rocking slightly against the recoil. The radio was filled with talk of Germans in the town, but I couldn’t even see the town. I ran toward what looked like the shattered hulk of a building and dived into what I hoped was a doorway. It was already occupied by another Tommy and together we waited for it to get lighter, listening to the rattle of machine guns, the sharp ping as shells ricocheted off steel, the sickening, indescribable, but immediately recognisable sound when they didn’t. Eventually, the other soldier moved out, but I waited for the sun to peek over the nearby hills. Once I was able to see where I was going, I made straight for the command post on the edge of town, and came across a group of allied soldiers standing in a circle. In the centre of the circle lay a dead German soldier, face up. “Well I’ll be damned,” I said aloud; no one else said anything, and the body abruptly faded. I remember the first time I killed someone. I had barely got the Spit V up to 4000 feet when out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of something below me. I dropped the left wing and saw a Stuka making a bee-line for the base. I made a hash of the turn, almost stalling, but he obviously had no idea I was there. I saddled-up on his six, dropping down low to avoid fire from his gunner, and opened up on him. I must have hit him at perfect convergence because he disintegrated, pieces of dismembered airframe raining down on the field below. I circled the field, putting all my concentration into making the landing that would make the kill count, then switched off the engine and sat in the cockpit for a moment, heart pounding. As you can tell, I’ve been in the wars lately. The first example is drawn from the launch of Cornered Rat Software’s WWII Online: Blitzkrieg (2001) while the second is based on a short stint playing Warbirds 3 (2002). Both games are examples of one of the most interesting recent developments in computer and video gaming: the increasing popularity and range of Massively Multiplayer Online Games (MMOGs); other notable examples of historical combat simulation MMOGs include HiTech Creations Aces High (2002) and Jaleco Entertainment’s Fighter Ace 3.5 (2002). For a variety of technical reasons, most popular multiplayer games—particularly first-person shooter (FPS) games such as Doom, Quake, and more recently Medal of Honor: Allied Assault (2002) and Return to Castle Wolfenstein (2001)—are played on player-organised servers that are usually limited to 32 or fewer players; terrain maps are small and rotated every couple of hours on average. MMOGs, by contrast, feature anywhere from hundreds to tens of thousands of players hosted on a handful of company-run servers. The shared virtual geography of these worlds is huge, extending across tens of thousands of square miles; these worlds are also persistent in that they respond dynamically to the actions of players and continue to do so while individual players are offline. As my opening anecdotes demonstrate, the experience of dealing and receiving virtual death is central to massively multiplayer simulations as it is to so many forms of computer games. Yet for an experience is that is so ubiquitous in computer games (and, some would say, even constitutes their experiential core) death is under-theorised. Mainstream culture tends to see computer and console game mayhem according to a rigid desensitisation argument: the experience of repeatedly killing other players online leads to a gradual erosion of the individual moral sense which makes players more likely to countenance killing people in the real world. Nowhere was this argument more in evidence that in the wake of the murder of fifteen students by Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado on April 20, 1999. The discovery that the two boys were enthusiastic players of Id Software’s Doom and Quake resulted in an avalanche of hysterical news stories that charged computer games with a number of evils: eroding kids’ ability to distinguish fantasy from reality, encouraging them to imitate the actions represented in the games, and immuring them to the real-world consequences of violence. These claims were hardly new, and had in fact been directed at any number of violent popular entertainment genres over the years. What was new was the claim that the interactive nature of FPS games rendered them a form of simulated weapons training. What was also striking about the discourse surrounding the Littleton shooting was just how little the journalists covering the story knew about computer, console and arcade games. Nevertheless, their approach to the issue encouraged readers to see games as having real life analogs. Media discussion of the event also reinforced the notion of a connection with military training techniques, making extensive use of Lt. Col. (ret) David Grossman, a former Army ranger and psychologist who led the charge in claiming that games were “mass-murder simulators” (Gittrich, AA06). This controversy over the role of violent computer games in the Columbine murders is part of a larger cultural discourse that adopts the logical fallacy characteristic of moral panics: coincidence equals causation. Yet the impoverished discussion of online death and destruction is also due in no small measure to an entrenched hostility toward popular entertainment as a whole, a hostility that is evident even in the work of some academic critics who study popular culture. Andrew Darley, for example, argues that, never has the flattening of meaning or depth in the traditional aesthetic sense of these words been so pronounced as in the action-simulation genres of the computer game: here, aesthetic experience is tied directly to the purely sensational and allied to tests of physical dexterity (143). In this view, the repeated experience of death is merely a part of the overall texture of a form characterised not so much by narrative as by compulsive repetition. More generally, computer games are seen by many critics as the pernicious, paradigmatic instance of the colonisation of individual consciousness by cultural spectacle. According to this Frankfurt school-influenced critique (most frequently associated with the work of Guy Debord), spectacle serves both to mystify and pacify its audience: The more the technology opens up narrative possibilities, the less there is for the audience to do. [. . .]. When the spectacle conceals the practice of the artists who create it, it [announces]…itself as an expression of a universe beyond human volition and effort (Filewood 24). In supposedly sapping its audience’s critical faculties by bombarding them with a technological assault whose only purpose is to instantiate a deterministic worldview, spectacle is seen by its critics as exemplifying the work of capitalist ideology which teaches people not to question the world around them by establishing, in Althusser’s famous phrase, an “imaginary relationship of individuals to their real conditions of their existence” (162). The desensitisation thesis is thus part of a larger discourse that considers computer games paradoxically to be both escapist and as having real-world effects. With regard to online death, neo-Marxism meets neo-Freudianism: players are seen as hooked on the thrill not only of destroying others but also of self-destruction. Death is thus considered the terminus of all narrative possibility, and the participation of individuals in fantasy-death and mayhem is seen to lead inevitably to several kinds of cultural death: the death of “family values,” the death of community, the death of individual responsibility, and—given the characterisation of FPS games in particular as lacking in plot and characterisation—the death of storytelling. However, it is less productive to approach computer, arcade and console games as vehicles for force-feeding content with pre-determined cultural effects than it is to understand them as venues within and around which players stage a variety of theatrical performances. Thus even the bêtes noire of the mainstream media, first-person shooters, serve as vehicles for a variety of interactions ranging from the design of new sounds, graphics and levels, new “skins” for player characters, the formation of “tribes” or “clans” that fight and socialise together, and the creation of elaborate fan fictions. This idea that narrative does not simply “happen” within the immediate experience of playing the game, but is in fact produced by a dynamic interplay of interactions for which the game serves as a focus, also suggests a very different way of looking at the role of death online. Far from being the logical endpoint, the inevitable terminus of all narrative possibility, death becomes the indispensable starting point for narrative. In single-player games, for example, the existence of the simple “save game” function—differing from simply putting the game board to one side in that the save function allows the preservation of the game world in multiple temporal states—generates much of the narrative and dramatic range of computer games. Generally a player saves the game because he or she is facing an obstacle that may result in death; saving the game at that point allows the player to investigate alternatives. Thus, the ever-present possibility of death in the game world becomes the origin of all narratives based on forward investigation. In multiplayer and MMOG environments, where the players have no control over the save game state, it is nevertheless the possibility of a mode of forward projection that gives the experience its dramatic intensity. Flight simulation games in particular are notoriously difficult to master; the experience of serial death, therefore, becomes the necessary condition for honing your flying skills, trying out different tactics in a variety of combat situations, trying similar tactics in different aircraft, and so on. The experience of online death creates a powerful narrative impulse, and not only in those situations where death is serialised and guaranteed. A sizable proportion of the flight sim communities of both Warbirds and Aces High participate in specially designed scenario events that replicate a specific historical air combat event (the Battle of Britain, the Coral Sea, USAAF bomber operations in Europe, etc.) as closely as possible. What makes these scenarios so compelling for many players is that they are generally “one life” events: once the player is dead, they are out for the rest of the event and this creates an intense experience that is completely unlike flying in the everyday free-for-all arenas. The desensitisation thesis notwithstanding, there is little evidence that this narrative investment in death produces a more casual attitude toward real-life death amongst MMOG players. For example, when real-world death intrudes, simulation players often reach for the same rituals of comfort and acknowledgement that are employed offline. Recently, when an Aces High player died unexpectedly of heart failure at the age of 35, his squadron held an elaborate memorial event in his honor. Over a hundred players bailed out over an aerodrome—bailing out is the only way that a player in Aces High can acquire a virtual human body—and lined the edges of the runway as members of the dead player’s squad flew the missing man formation overhead (GrimmCAF). The insistence upon bodily presence in the context of a classic military ceremony marking irrecoverable absence suggests the way in which the connections between real and virtual worlds are experienced by players: as tensions, but also as points where identities are negotiated. This example does not seem to indicate that everyday familiarity with virtual death has dulled the players’ sensibilities to the sorrow and loss accompanying death in the real world. I began this article talking about death in simulation MMOGs for a number of reasons. In the first place, MMOGs are more commonly identified with their role-playing examples (MMORPGs) such as Ultima Online and Everquest, games that focus on virtual community-building and exploration in addition to violence and conquest. By contrast, simulation games tend to be seen as having more in common with first-person shooters like Quake, in the way in which they foreground the experience of serial death. Secondly, it is precisely the connection between simulation and death that makes games in general (as I demonstrated in relation to the media coverage of the Columbine murders) so problematic. In response, I would argue that one of the most interesting aspects of computer games recently has been the degree to which generic distinctions have been breaking down. MMORPGs, which had their roots in the Dungeons and Dragons gaming world, and the text-based world of MUDs and MOOs have since developed sophisticated third-person and even first-person representational styles to facilitate both peaceful character interactions and combat. Likewise, first-person shooters have begun to add role-playing elements (see, for example, Looking Glass Studios’ superb System Shock 2 (1999) or Lucasarts' Jedi Knight series). This trend has also been incorporated into simulation MMOGs: World War II Online includes a rudimentary set of character-tracking features, and Aces High has just announced a more ambitious expansion whose major focus will be the incorporation of role-playing elements. I feel that MMOGs in particular are all evolving towards a state that I would describe as “simulance:” simulations that, while they may be associated with a nominal representational reality, are increasingly about exploring the narrative possibilities, the mechanisms of theatrical engagement for self and community of simulation itself. Increasingly, none of the terms "simulation,” "role-playing" or indeed “game” quite captures the texture of these evolving experiences. In their complex engagement with both scripted and extemporaneous narrative, the players have more in common with period re-enactors; the immersive power of a well-designed flight simulator scenario produces a feeling in players akin to the “period rush” experienced by battlefield re-enactors, the frisson between awareness of playing a role and surrendering completely to the momentary power of its illusory reality. What troubles critics about simulations (and what also blinds them to the narrative complexity in other forms of computer games) is that they are indeed not simply examples of re-enactment —a re-staging of supposedly real events—but a generative form of narrative enactment. Computer games, particularly large-scale online games, provide a powerful set of theatrical tools with which players and player communities can help shape narratives and deepen their own narrative investment. Obviously, they are not isolated from real-world cultural factors that shape and constrain narrative possibility. However, we are starting to see the way in which the games use the idea of virtual death as the generative force for new storytelling frameworks based, in Filewood’s terms, on forward investigation. As games begin to move out of their incunabular state, they may contribute to the re-shaping of culture and consciousness, as other narrative platforms have done. Far from causing the downfall of civilisation, game-based narratives may bring with them a greater cultural awareness of simultaneous narrative possibility, of the past as sets of contingent phenomena, and a greater attention to practical, hands-on experimental problem-solving. It would be ironic, but no great surprise, if a form built around the creative possibilities inherent in serial death in fact made us more attentive to the rich alternative possibilities of living. Works Cited Aces High. HiTech Creations, 2002. http://www.bartleby.com/201/1.html Althusser, Louis. “Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses (Notes Toward an Investigation).” Lenin and Philosophy and Other Essays. By Louis Althusser, trans. Ben Brewster. New York, 1971. 127-86. Barry, Ellen. “Games Feared as Youths’ Basic Training; Industry, Valued as Aid to Soldiers, on Defensive.” The Boston Globe 29 Apr 1999: A1. LexisNexis. Feb. 7, 2003. Cornered Rat Software. World War II Online: Blitzkrieg. Strategy First, 2001. http://www.wwiionline.com/ Darley, Andrew. Visual Digital Culture: Surface Play and Spectacle in New Media Genres. London: Routledge, 2000. Debord, Guy. The Society of the Spectacle. Donald Nicholson-Smith. New York: Zone Books, 1994. 1967. Der Derian, James. “The Simulation Syndrome: From War Games to Game Wars.” Social Text 8.2 (1990): 187-92. Filewood, Alan. “C:\Games\Dramaturgy: The Cybertheatre of Computer Games.” Canadian Theatre Review 81 (Winter 1994): 24-28. Gittrich, Greg. “Expert Differs with Kids over Video Game Effects.” The Denver Post 27 Apr 1999: AA-06. LexisNexis. Feb. 7 2003. GrimmCAF. “MojoCAF’s Memorial Flight.” Aces High BB, 13 Dec. 2002. http://www.hitechcreations.com/forums/sh... IEntertainment Network. Warbirds III. Simon and Schuster Interactive, 2002.http://www.totalsims.com/index.php?url=w... Jenkins, Henry, comp. “Voices from the Combat Zone: Game Grrlz Talk Back.” From Barbie to Mortal Kombat: Gender and Computer Games. Ed. Justine Cassell and Henry Jenkins. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT P, 1998. 328-41. Lieberman, Joseph I. “The Social Impact of Music Violence.” Statement Before the Governmental Affairs Committee Subcommittee on Oversight, 1997. http://www.senate.gov/member/ct/lieberma... Feb. 7 2003. Murray, Janet H. Hamlet on the Holodeck: The Future of Narrative in Cyberspace. New York: Free, 1997. Poole, Steven. Trigger Happy: Videogames and the Entertainment Revolution. New York: Arcade Publishing, 2000. Pyro. “AH2 FAQ.” Aces High BB, 29 Jan. 2003. Internet. http://www.hitechcreations.com/forums/sh... Feb. 8 2003. Links http://www.wwiionline.com/ http://www.idsoftware.com/games/doom/ http://www.hitechcreations.com/ http://www.totalsims.com/index.php?url=wbiii/content_home.php http://www.hitechcreations.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;threadid=77265 http://www.senate.gov/member/ct/lieberman/releases/r110697c.html http://www.idsoftware.com/games/wolfenstein http://www.idsoftware.com/games/quake/ http://www.ea.com/eagames/official/moh_alliedassault/home.jsp http://www.jaleco.com/fighterace/index.html http://www.bartleby.com/201/1.html http://www.hitechcreations.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;threadid=72560 Citation reference for this article Substitute your date of access for Dn Month Year etc... MLA Style Mullen, Mark. "It Was Not Death for I Stood Up…and Fragged the Dumb-Ass MoFo Who'd Wasted Me" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 6.1 (2003). Dn Month Year < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0302/03-itwasnotdeath.php>. APA Style Mullen, M., (2003, Feb 26). It Was Not Death for I Stood Up…and Fragged the Dumb-Ass MoFo Who'd Wasted Me. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture, 6,(1). Retrieved Month Dn, Year, from http://www.media-culture.org.au/0302/03-itwasnotdeath.html

A public sculpture in Seattle’s downtown depicts a cement “hobo” sleeping on a bench. A man sleeps on the sidewalk nearby; a policeman comes by and enforcing the law, tells him to move on. The sculpted hobo, part of the city’s efforts to vitalize downtown, appears innocent and romantic. Meanwhile, the living “hobo” is removed from the street as a sign of disorder in the same attempt to create vital streets. Within the vicinity of one block, the person sleeping on the street is at once romanticized and criminalized. What links the sculpted “hobo” with nostalgia and the real person with nuisance? The streets are full of repressive mechanisms. Laws, prohibitory signs, architecture, surveillance, are but a few displays of power that serve to discipline subjects in public spaces. Disciplinary communication strategies serve as mechanisms of repression to disqualify certain types of behaviors and people, while at the same time inviting others. Davis explains this in his discussion of what he calls “sadistic street environments” where architecture of the streets is built in such a way as to facilitate the geographic expulsion of the poor (Davis 232). Some public benches are designed, for example, to prevent sitting for long periods of time. This expulsion is closely tied to visions of clean streets in which consumers are protected from contact with the unclean uncertainty of poverty, a social condition that does not fit into the imagined vitality of orderly consumption. Said wrote that the other and the knowledge about otherness are created through discourse in order to alleviate a fear of the unknown and to justify the need for domination. An identity is formed through something that one “is not,” rather that through something that one “is.” Applying this idea to space, Said described an arbitrary geographical boundary that is drawn, enabling the insiders to label the outsider as the “other” and to separate “ours” from “theirs.” The production of the geographical other takes place through what Said calls poetically endowed meaning, constructed through a limited vocabulary and images that impose and reproduce themselves as reality. In this way, Said’s conceptualization of othering can be applied to the streets. For example, the term homeless encompasses an imagined geography. Like the term “hobo” (a nomad), a person sleeping on the street is commonly referred to as “homeless.” Someone who is “homeless” has no home, and therefore not within his or her own geographical boundaries. “Homeless” cannot be linked to a specific location, deriving a negative identity, through something that is lacking – a home. This creates a dualism; in that being “homeless” is in direct opposition to being with a home, creating the “insider” identity (attached to place) in relation to the “outsider” (having no place). Carrying out one’s domestic functions (like sleeping) in public is, then, an inappropriate intrusion. Having no home, however, creates an uncomfortable ambiguity because it limits the production of knowledge that can be identified geographically (i.e. address, consumption patterns and other demographic information) about the subject. Foucault explained the way that the mechanisms of control incite a discourse about the subject and eventually attempt to discipline it through encroaching regulation. In this way, Wilson and Kelling’s Broken Windows Theory has been enthusiastically used in US city revitalization efforts and serves as an example of such discursively produced disciplinary strategies. The authors construct categories, “signs of disorder,” and recommend an eradication of these signs (who in some cases happen to be people). For example, in the following segment of Wilson and Kelling’s thesis (italics are mine); “unattached adults,” “teenagers” and “panhandlers” are defined as disruptive subjects in need of social control. A stable neighborhood of families who care for their homes, mind each other’s children, and confidently frown on unwanted intruders can change, in a few years or even a few months, to an inhospitable and frightening jungle. A piece of property is abandoned, weeds grow up, a window is smashed. Adults stop scolding rowdy children; the children, emboldened, become more rowdy. Families move out, unattached adults move in. Teenagers gather in front of the corner store. The merchant asks them to move; they refuse. Fights occur. Litter accumulates. People start drinking in front of the grocery; in time, an inebriate slumps to the sidewalk and is allowed to sleep it off. Pedestrians are approached by panhandlers (Wilson and Kelling 32). In this narrative, outsiders invade a neighborhood, creating a frightening world for the stable families. The stranger threatens to turn the home into “an inhospitable and frightening jungle,” a terrifying, yet exotic place. Arguably, the lexical choice of “jungle” itself is racialized. The jungle is frightening because it is associated with something unfamiliar, natural and untamed by colonial powers. It is an environment in need of domination. In this discourse, a good neighborhood is set as the polar opposite of a jungle. In opposition to the jungle, a stable neighborhood is hospitable and safe—but to whom? The “unwanted intruders,” who are “confidently frown[ed]” upon by the “stable neighborhood of families” take shape as inebriates, teenagers, unattached adults and panhandlers. Hospitality and safety is not extended to them. The Broken Windows theory neatly defines the subjects and gives the disciplinary powers an easy target. Power can be straightforwardly exercised over drunks, the poor and the teenagers. The focus has been displaced from any possible systemic flaws onto individual subjects who are othered and necessitate domination. This poetically endowed meaning is perpetuated by mass media that have tapped into, dramatized and reinforced an existing collective paranoia of urban crime (Garland 158). As the American public have become increasingly reliant on media systems for information the spiral of fear and a desire to be protected from the dangerous streets are cultivated by the media. Gerbner’s study of cultivation (1998) demonstrated a relationship between increased exposure to violent television programs and an increased fear of the outdoors. Violence on television cultivates a perception of a “mean world” outside of the home. The home, then, becomes a guarded frontier and fear is embodied in the outsider. In turn, a solution for protection is readily offered through increased social control and the consumption of surveillance and security systems. At the same time, the outsider remains an exotic subject. This exoticism can be used to increase the economic capital of the disciplinary forces. As Said described in Orientalism, while the “other” needs to be disciplined, it has something to be possessed. The subject is undesirable and desired at the same time. In addition to being unfamiliar and fearsome, its representational form is both eccentric and quaint. As cities compete in global economies, to attract people requires continuous work in cultural production (Urry 193). One way that this is achieved is through visual consumption, which produces an aestheticized social life appealing to the tourist gaze. One type of this tourist gaze is what Urry calls a romantic gaze, which seeks to consume the “natural” and “authentic” object (150). The image of the sculpted hobo evokes the sentimental nostalgia of the way cities and hobos “used to be,” benevolent and innocent respectively. Such romanticized representation creates a symbolic capital necessary for the production of globally competitive cities. The discourse of preserving history, for example, allows developers to “reclaim” downtown and it is this “reclamation of history” that enhances the cultural and economic value of a neighborhood. Zukin argued that cultural claim to urban space has given developers new legitimacy to take over the management of the streets. The sculpture of a sleeping hobo helps produce a sense of place through whimsical art and a reference to an imagined idyllic past where hobos were safe and the public, compassionate. In this way, the exoticized and nostalgic representation of the “hobo” has become more real than the subject that is being depicted (Said 94). The life-sized sculpture rests on a bench as art, detached from the real subject, it becomes the “authentic hobo,” the nomad of the past, the romantic and tragic clown such as the one often depicted by Charlie Chaplin’s tramp. While such imagery is used to produce an urban aesthetic, the actual people tend to be treated with much less sympathy as they are cleaned off the streets. Benches are constructed to prevent lengthy repose and laws prohibit sitting on sidewalks as an alternative. Discussions of the living poor are commonly framed in terms of signs of disorder that need to be eradicated for the benefit of urban vitality. The idea that people inhabiting the streets need to be removed as a sign of disorder is a misguided effort in attempts to create vital streets. Nor will visual aesthetic be enough to save the streets. The spectacle of crowds and sittable spaces are some of the key factors that attract people to public spaces and make those spaces come to life (Whyte). In The Death and Life of Great American Cities, Jacobs famously argued that no one single element in the urban environment can generate a vital city. The perceptions of safety come from such regulating factors as the natural surveillance of eyes on the street and the public characters as described in Duneier’s ethnography of New York’s scavengers, panhandlers and street vendors. In an intricate dance, streets bring strangers together in casual contact with one another and cultivate the knowledge that difference exists and that it does not have to create a frightening world. Being in public builds trust, while impersonal city streets turn anonymous people into dangerous strangers. Jacobs wrote, “when people say that a city, or a part of it is dangerous or is a jungle what they mean primarily is that they do not feel safe on the sidewalks” (37). “A well used city street is apt to be a safe street. A deserted street is apt to be unsafe” (44). A place where diverse public presence is cultivated would reduce the fear of the streets and perhaps bring compassion back from the past. References Davis, Mike. City of Quartz. New York: Verso, 1990. Duneier, Mitchell. Sidewalk. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1999. Garland, David. The Culture of Control. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001. Gerbner, George. ‘Cultivation Analysis: An Overview.’ Mass Communication and Society 1.3-4 (Summer-Fall 1998): 175-177. Foucault, Michel. The History of Sexuality. New York: Pantheon Books, 1978. Foucault, Michel. Power/Knowledge. Ed. Colin Gordon. New York: Pantheon Books, 1980. Jacobs, Jane. The Death and Life of Great American Cities. New York: Random House, 1961. McCarthy, Albert J. ‘Zero Tolerance in a Small Town.’ The FBI Law Enforcement Bulletin 67.1 (Jan. 1998): 6-11. Said, Edward. Orientalism. New York: Vintage Books, 1979. Urry, John. Consuming Places. New York: Routledge, 1995. Whyte, William H. City: Rediscovering the Center. New York: Anchor Books, 1988. Willson James Q. and Kelling, George L. ‘Broken Windows.’ Atlantic Monthly 249.3 (March 1982): 29-38. Zukin, Sharon. Landscapes of Power: From Detroit to Disney World. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Gendelman, Irina. "The Romantic and Dangerous Stranger." M/C Journal 9.3 (2006). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0607/03-gendelman.php>. APA Style Gendelman, I. (Jul. 2006) "The Romantic and Dangerous Stranger," M/C Journal, 9(3). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0607/03-gendelman.php>.