Journal articles on the topic 'Chinese Political posters'

The concept of the Chinese Dream has become a primary developmental goal of the Chinese Communist Government since it was put forth by Xi Jinping in 2012. It has been promoted through different forms of media, of which propaganda posters have played a dominant role. The propaganda discourse regarding the Chinese Dream has been mainly articulated in both the verbal text in official documents and the visual text in the posters. This study focuses on analyzing the visual images represented in the posters and exploring how they accord with social and historical texts, particularly the official verbal text of the Chinese Dream, the historical text of the propaganda of the Communist Party of China, and the social–cultural text interrelated with the visual symbols. The approach of intertextuality and intervisualityis adopted for the analysis and interpretation. The study shows that the majority of the visual symbols used in the posters are transposed from the sign systems of Chinese traditional culture and the revolutionary discourse of the Communist Party of China. The political concept of the Chinese Dream has embodied the characteristics of utopia, nostalgia, and femininity. With the posters in public spaces, the visual propaganda of the Chinese Dream has turned it into a mundane movement of political culture. This study hopes to contribute to the understanding of the role of visual images in political discursive formations and integrated propaganda in post-socialist China.

O artigo investiga a presença de elementos simbólicos, muitos deles associados ao pensamento religioso chinês, em um cartaz da Revolução Cultural Chinesa. Para tanto, utiliza uma metodologia que associa diferentes áreas do conhecimento: Estudos Chineses (dentro dos quais, Estudos da Religiosidade Chinesa), Língua Chinesa e os símbolos a ela associados, Simbolismo, História, Teoria do Cartaz e Sociologia da Imagem. A aproximação em relação à temática chinesa no cartaz passou por um esforço de tradução e análise do texto escrito que o compõe. Para se aproximar de elementos da História, cultura e simbolismo religioso sínico presentes na peça de propaganda, utilizaram-se trabalhos de scholars como M. Granet, A. Cheng (Escolas de Pensamento, Simbolismo Religioso), K. Stevens (Religiosidade Popular e Iconografia Religiosa) e J. Spence (História), bem como obras literárias e cinematográficas chinesas. No que respeita aos símbolos (em seu caráter universal), ajudaram as observações de M. Eliade. Em relação aos aspectos associados specificamente aos cartazes, apelou-se a L. Gervereau (História), A. Moles (Teoria do Cartaz) e V. Flusser (Sociologia da Imagem; Teoria da Leitura Imagética). Com base no cruzamento dos referenciais teóricos, demonstra-se que a intelligentsia da Revolução Cultural utilizou símbolos arcaicos – religiosos e políticos – em peças de propaganda devotadas a promover um discurso de destruição e substituição dos antigos valores. Archaic, magical and religious symbols in a Chinese cultural revolution poster This article investigates the presence of symbolic elements, many of them associated with Chinese religious thought, in a propaganda poster of the Chinese Cultural Revolution. To this end, using a methodology that combines different areas of knowledge: Chinese Studies (within which, the study of religiosity Chinese), Chinese language and symbols associated with it, Symbolism, History, Theory and Sociology Poster Image. The rapprochement with the Chinese theme became the poster, at first, by an effort of translation and analysis of written text that compose it. To approximate the elements of history, culture and religious symbolism present in the Sinic piece of propaganda, the authors used the work of scholars such as M. Granet, A. Cheng (Schools of Thought, Religious Symbolism), K. Stevens (Popular Religiosity and religious iconography) and J.Spence (History) as well as Chinese literary works and films. With regard to the symbols (in their universality), appealed to the observations of M. Eliade. In relation to issues associated specifically with posters, appealed to L. Gervereau (History), A. Moles (Poster Theory) and Flusser (Sociology of the Image, Imagery Theory of Reading. Based on the intersection of the theoretical, the authors have demonstrate that the intelligentsia of the Cultural Revolution used archaic symbols - religious and political - in advertising devoted to promoting a discourse of destruction and replacement of old values. Keywords: Chinese Cultural Revolution, Symbolism, Iconography, Chinese Religions, Poster Theory, Imagetic Reading.

Colour in China has a long history of artistic, symbolic, religious, and mythological use. This paper takes the idea of colour as a meaningful element within Chinese society and introduces the use of visual colour grammar as a new way to identify and breakdown the use of colour within political art and propaganda posters. The use of colour has been adapted by visual linguists into its own unique visual grammar component, relaying much more information than just a symbolic transfer from sign to signifier. Meaning within political posters can be derived from regularities in use, presentation, and conventional meanings. Colour as a visual grammar component is expressed through the three metafunctions: ideational, interpersonal, and textual. This paper explores how the Chinese views on colour interconnects with the metafunctions of colour to look at the political posters of the PRC. I will discuss both the approach to art as a text that can be ‘read’ through visual grammar and present colour in the Chinese context as more than a symbol making device but as a meaning component in and of itself.

Political posters, banners, and similar objects are extremely common in China. This article uses political design from contemporary China, particularly emphasizing the government's Chinese Dream campaign, to analyze what at first appears to be a paradox. The subjects of the various campaigns and the language they use are mandated by the central government and promoted through central and local publicity departments. However, the graphic aspects of these campaigns, such as the choice of colours, images, layout, and typeface, are much less strictly controlled, and are decided by local governments or authorities. This makes political design in China decentralized. Decentralized design is inconsistent with the principles of global marketing and with the PRC's reliance on set forms of political discourse, both of which rely on the assumption that uniformity will lead to more effective communication of messages and persuasion of the public. Evidence from local design campaigns indeed shows that Chinese political posters are often designed hastily and without expertise, resulting in strange and unpersuasive images. Despite this, the article shows that decentralized design is not paradoxical. This is largely because the Chinese party-state uses propaganda as a method of "signalling" its overall power, more than as a tool of indoctrination or persuasion about particular topics. The central government's reliance on incentives and metrics to regulate local authorities means that the production of propaganda is also a way in which local governments can signal their loyalty to the Centre.

It is commonly stated that China has 5,000 years of continuous history. It is a claim repeated in textbooks, mini-dramas, and tourist sites across the People’s Republic of China (PRC, also commonly referred to as ‘China’). It formed the narrative foundation for the opening ceremony of the 2008 Beijing Olympics. It is also a ubiquitous claim internationally, recited by global political leaders, in foreign media, and in children’s books. Ironically, it even serves as the tag line for the highly political and anti-communist global dance show ‘Shen Yun’, its posters promising a celebration of ‘5,000 years of civilization reborn’.1 This millennia-long history, often short-handed as ‘Yao-to-Mao’ – the Yao referring to Emperor Yao, one of five founding Chinese rulers who is said to have lived in the third millennium BC, the Mao referring to Mao Zedong, the founder of the PRC – is a story of civilizational continuity in which a politically and culturally unified ‘China’ maintains its fundamental cohesion despite a range of challengers, invasions, and upheavals.2

Abstract This paper makes a comparative study of recruitment advertisements between China and the United States from the perspective of Multimodal Cognitive Critical Analysis. Based on the analysis of metaphor and metonymy, the paper reveals the differences between them in contents, narrative strategies and combination of semiotic resources. In terms of contents, there are varying degrees of emphasis on military mission, income, values, and mental health. In terms of narrative strategies, China adopts a “parental” strategy, while the United States adopts a “corporate” strategy. As to the combination of semiotic resources, China and the United States have difference in their use of cartoons and posters, and adopt different shooting angles of posters. This study holds that military conscription is not only a political activity, but also a platform to construct positive image of Chinese soldiers and demonstrate the strength of China’s military forces. Therefore, it is necessary to constantly adjust the above factors according to the characteristics of the era and reading habits of the viewers.

AbstractOver the past three decades, Chinese media have moved away from the tight controls under which they were kept since 1949. This forced those responsible for popular education to reconsider how their messages can be presented best to the public. Written propaganda, as published in newspapers, reached less and less people and was seen as boring and ineffective; the propaganda posters of the past could not compete with the many moving images and the glossy commercial messages that entered China. Television was seen as the most effective medium to present a modernized type of propaganda. As a result, the Party became a producer of 'public service advertising' (PSA, gongyi guanggao). Commercial advertising has inspired contents and forms of these PSA in major ways. Despite their important function in the wider framework of thought work, the production of PSA is hampered by three partially interrelated problems: financing, production and broadcasting. In the run-up to the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games, the number and intensity of PSA increased.

Статья посвящена изучению образа китайца-красноармейца на фронтах Гражданской войны в России. Внимание фокусируется на следующих ключевых сюжетах: создание образа, его постепенное «умолчание» в 1930-е гг. на фоне внутриполитических преобразований и обострения военно-политической ситуации на восточных рубежах, активное использование в условиях сближения СССР и КНР в 1950-е гг., переосмысление в современной России. Применение исторической имагологии как основного методологического подхода позволяет увидеть, как на примере китайцев, участвовавших в военных действиях, работали механизмы социальной инклюзии и эксклюзии. Источниковую базу составили материалы советской периодической печати, агитационные плакаты белого движения, произведения художественной литературы о Гражданской войне и современные российские киноленты, содержащие упоминания о китайцах в России того времени. Ключевой аргумент автора в том, что динамика репрезентации образа китайца красноармейца отражает амбивалентное отношение российского общества не только к китайским мигрантам, но и применительно к проблемам миграции в целом. В зависимости от состояния российско-китайских отношений и этапов присутствия китайцев в России происходит переосмысление образов «китайских красноармейских интернациональных отрядов». The article is devoted to the formation and development of the image of the Chinese Red Army soldier on the fronts of the Civil War in Russia. The author's attention is focused on the following key subjects: the creation of the image, its gradual “silence” in the 1930s against the background of internal political transformations and the aggravation of the military-political situation on the eastern borders, active use in the context of rapprochement between the USSR and China in the 1950s, rethinking in modern Russia. The main methodological approach is historical imagology. This scientific approach allows us to see how the mechanisms of social inclusion and exclusion worked in the example of the Chinese. The source base consisted of materials from Soviet periodicals, propaganda posters of the white movement, works of fiction about the Civil War and modern Russian films. The author’s key argument is that the dynamics of representation of the image of a Chinese Red Army soldier reflects the ambivalent attitude of Russian society not only towards Chinese migrants, but also towards migration problems. Rethinking the images of the “Chinese Red Army international detachments” at a turning point in Russian history depends on the state of Russian-Chinese relations and the stages of the presence of the Chinese in Russia.

This article examines the discriminatory discursive strategies adopted in the online interactions between different power groups from Mainland China and Hong Kong in their response to two YouTube videos about the Hong Kong Umbrella, or Occupy Central, Movement. A corpus of 4329 comments made by 2157 posters from Mainland China and Hong Kong was coded regarding commenters’ place of residence and their perceptions of the Umbrella Movement and then tagged based on Flowerdew et al.’s previous taxonomy of discriminatory discursive strategies. The results show that a wide range of discriminatory discursive strategies, used by two power groups from Hong Kong and one from the Mainland, were found in the majority of the comments, including four sub-strategies not identified by Flowerdew et al. While studies to date on the Umbrella Movement have mainly focused on Hong Kong data, our study contributes to the literature by adding the perspective from Mainland China. The findings of this study provide insights into the increasing social and political tensions between Hong Kong and its mother country as well as the current situation in the divided city.

Focusing on social media affordances and China’s social/political context, the present study analyzed the digital communication practices about COVID-19 vaccines on a popular social media platform—TikTok—which is called DouYin in China. Overall, this study identified five major forces partaking in constructing the discourses, with government agencies and state media being the dominant contributors. Furthermore, video posters demonstrated different patterns of utilizing social media affordances (e.g., hashtags) in disseminating their messages. The top hashtags adopted by state media were more representative of international relations and Taiwan; those by government agencies were of updates on pandemic outbreaks; those by individual accounts were of mainstream values and health education; those by commercial media were of celebrities and health education; those by enterprise accounts were of TikTok built-in marketing hashtags. The posted videos elicited both cognitive and affective feedback from online viewers. Implications of the findings were discussed in the context of health communication and global recovery against the backdrop of the COVID-19 pandemic and Chinese culture.

В статье анализируются стили дизайна логотипов периода Китайской Республики (1912-1949 гг.). Выделяются пять распространенных стилей логотипов того времени и выбираются репрезентативные для ознакомления. Обобщается, как формировались стили логотипов благодаря сочетанию политических, экономических и эстетических факторов того времени. Республиканский периодбыл важным периодом в экономическом развитии Китая. Западные компании пришли на китайский рынок, принеся с собой новые бизнес-модели, а перед национальными предприятиями встали новые задачи по вступлению в новый период развития. В этот период в связи с коммерческим бумом также сформировался дизайн торговых марок и рекламы. Работы этого периода включают в себя объявления и плакаты на досках с характерными чертами того времени, а также товарные знаки, рекламу и дизайн упаковки с сочетанием западного и традиционного китайского стилей. Изменения в стиле отражают эволюцию современных китайских концепций графического дизайна The article analyzes the design styles of logos of the period of the Republic of China (1912-1949). Five common logo styles of that time are highlighted, and the representative ones are selected for familiarization. The article summarizes, how logo styles were shaped by a combination of political, economic and aesthetic factors at the time.The Republican period was an important period in China's economic development. Western companies entered the Chinese market, bringing with them new business models, and national enterprises faced new challenges to enter into a new period of development. During this period, brand and advertising design also took shape due to the commercial boom. Works of this period include advertisements and posters on monthly boards with the characteristic features of the time as well as trademarks, advertising and packaging design with a combination of Western and traditional Chinese styles. The changes in style reflect the evolution of contemporary Chinese graphic design concepts

AbstractWithin cognitive science, narratives are regarded as crucial and fundamental cognitive instruments or tools. As Roger Schank suggests, the identity of (sub-)cultures is to a considerable extent based upon the sharing of narrative structures (Schank. 1995. Tell me a story: Narrative and intelligence. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press.). According to Schank, culturally shared stories, as do many other stories, occur frequently in highly abbreviated form, as “skeleton stories” or “gists.” Collective identities are conveyed in and between cultures not only through verbal discourse, but also by pictorial means. Many pictures and visual artworks have indeed been produced in order to establish and to consolidate a home-culture and to demarcate it from conceived extra-cultural counterparts.Some of my previous work on these lines has been concerned with demarcation efforts in visual media of “Jews” as extra-cultural, since the Middle Ages onwards, in the Third Reich’s iconography, as well as in modern, radicalized forms of anti-Semitic picturing in Arab media (Ranta. 2016. The (pictorial) construction of collective identities in the Third Reich. Language and Semiotic Studies 2(3). 107–124, Ranta. 2017. Master narratives and the (pictorial) construction of otherness: Anti-semitic images in the Third Reich and beyond. Contemporary Aesthetics 15. https://contempaesthetics.org/newvolume/pages/article.php?articleID=765 (accessed 17 November 2019.). In building upon and extending this work, I shall focus in the current paper upon attempts of creating cultural and political cohesion by means of pictorial propaganda in post-war China from the early 1950’s onwards, as promoted by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) under the leadership by Mao Zedong. Some concrete pictorial examples indicating these attempts will be discussed from a narratological and cultural semiotic perspective.

Purpose The purpose of this study is to explore how nationalistic appeals may affect consumers’ perception and purchasing of targeted brands. Qualitative historical data from old China (1900–1949) reveal that social movement groups can adopt nationalistic appeals assisted by meaning framing – defined as a creative interpretation of symbols, designs, behaviors, social events and cultural identities to serve social and political goals – to shape consumers’ attitudes toward foreign brands. After examining the mechanisms and processes underlying consumer boycotts from 1900 to 1949, the responsive strategies of affected foreign companies are illustrated. Design/methodology/approach Critical historical research method is applied to historical data and historical “traces” from China’s corporate documents, memoirs, posters, advertisements, newspapers and secondhand sources documenting Chinese boycotts from 1900 to 1949. Findings Consumers may pursue interests beyond economic interests. Nationalistic appeals can mobilize consumer boycotts against foreign brands that were perceived to support or relate to targeted countries. Political framing of certain events shapes consumers’ perceptions and concomitant brand choices. Research limitations/implications Although differences between historical and current contexts may require tailoring past marketing strategies to current conditions, past strategies can inform current and future strategies. Practical implications Strategies adopted by foreign companies in old China (1900–1949) can help contemporary companies design effective marketing strategies for a hostile marketplace infused with nationalistic appeals and competing interests. Social implications Although local companies can adopt economic or political nationalism to realize their economic goals, it represents a double-edged sword that can harm national brands. Originality/value A historical analysis of nationalistic business appeals in pre-1949 China can inform the counterstrategies modern companies adopt to overcome consumer boycotts.

In 1956, Martha Gellhorn spent an evening exploring the uncharted territory of London's espresso bars. Her impressions were recorded in an article on “the younger generation”: “Full of expectations and ignorance, I made the long sight-seeing trip through the Espresso-bar country of London, stared at the young natives, and came gladly home at last with many pictures in my mind but little understanding …. The youthful Espresso-ites remained hopelessly strangers, in their strange, small, chosen land; I can only report what I have seen.” Gellhorn's account was punctuated by references to the “strangeness” of her experience. The decor of the bars invoked “distant places” with “bull-fight posters, bamboo, tropical plants, an occasional shell or Mexican mask.” As she traveled through this “strange country,” the sight of a tortilla was “terrifying,” the customers' clothing was breathtakingly exotic, and their skin tones suggested amalgams such as “Chinese-Javanese-Siamese” or “Spanish-Arab-Cuban.” At times, Gellhorn heard French and Italian spoken freely among the espresso bars' young patrons.The foreign topography of youth culture described by Gellhorn was not unusual among accounts of young people in the 1950s, yet until recently this period has been characterized principally as a time of social peace and political apathy, “an age of prosperity and achievement” shaped by “consensus” and a return to normality after the disruption and sacrifices of the Second World War. Following an extended period of austerity, the welfare state and the managed economy seemed to have ensured full employment and an unprecedented standard of living, while the election of successive Conservative governments in 1951, 1955, and 1959 has been explained as the political reflection of rising personal prosperity and security.

The study concerns the organisation and content of both the visual and verbal elements within the polycode text of French-language memes that pertain to medical discourse. The meme’s connection to medical discourse is established through its subject matter, the incorporation of medical symbols in its visual elements, and the inclusion of medical terminology in its written content. It also involves depicting communication scenarios between doctors, between doctors and patients, and between nursing staff and patients at both the image and text levels. The study’s novelty lies in its dual approach: firstly, it examines French memes as subjects for linguistic analysis, and secondly, it explores them as a genre of polycode text within medical discourse. The research material comprises 100 French memes centred on medical themes, obtained through continuous sampling from the internet. Study results revealed that memes pertaining to medical discourse are dynamic, viral, and eclectic texts that encapsulate the distinctive elements of institutional medical discourse. Thematically, the meme encompasses various medical topics and addresses social issues prevalent in France. Deciphering the author’s intention behind the meme relies on a layer-by-layer examination of how the idea is expressed through the polycode text, as well as an understanding of the sociocultural context that informs the text, which requires presuppositional knowledge on the part of the recipient. Linguo-cultural characteristics observed in the verbal component, as identified through the analysis, include the use of language play at phonetic and lexical levels, inclusion of colloquial and slang vocabulary alongside emotionally charged expressions within doctor-patient communication contexts, and the utilisation of phonetic spelling. The visual component of the polycode text in French medical memes is distinguished by the incorporation of elements from civilisational phenomena, such as political figures from the country, film protagonists, and globally recognised actors. The analysis revealed that the meme serves various functions including comedic, informative, compensatory, and appellative roles. The article constitutes a segment of a broader study examining polycode texts within medical discourse across multiple genres including memes, medical posters, and demotivators in languages such as Russian, French, English, Chinese, and Arabic.

The article examines the system of creative roll calls of Alexander Solzhenitsyn and the сhinese writer Tsun Weisi, called by critics «Chinese Solzhenitsyn». The work of the writers is analyzed in the context of typologically similar trends in the russian and chinese literary process – russian prison camp prose and chinese literature of «wounds and scars» and «high walls literature», the fate of both writers is seen as an example of the complex confrontation between the individual and the totalitarian system. Comparing the works of Tsun Weisi and A. Solzhenitsyn the author reveals many motifs that are significant for the artistic world of the writers: rigid time localization and expansion of the time frame due to the introduction of heroes' memories into the narrative, description of the isolated world of the prison, the motive of physical and moral exhaustion, description of hard work and harsh realities of the surrounding nature, the motive of adversities and absurdity of the political system, motives of denunciation, betrayal and provocation. Along with this, the article considers significant differences in the reproduction of the main constants of prison camp discourse in Tsun Weisi and A. Solzhenitsyn’s works: relations among prisoners and between the authorities and prisoners, the ideological component of Tsun Weisi’s prison discourse, when the camp becomes a micro-model of the political system in the country, ideological and political priorities, determining the reduction of the object world and the poster character of the chinese writer, a high stone wall as a symbol of the Great Wall of China, impassable prison walls and the a priori doomed attempts to combat absurdity and injustice in an ever-changing brutal political reality.

Artworks record history. The images of women’s fashion and beauty presented in the art history of modern China illustrate explicitly the challenging, changing and circuitous development of women’s rights and feminism in the country. In this study, I analyse and contextualize the most widespread representations of Chinese ‘modern women’s fashion’: (1) the geisha-like ladies of news illustrations before the 1911 Revolution, (2) the poster-calendar girls in the republican aesthetics of an early commercial society, (3) the papercutting folk art that profiles ‘half the sky’ in the uniform aesthetics of Marxist‐Leninist‐Maoist propaganda, (4) the gender-specific art themes and materials applied by female artists after the opening-up policy and (5) the feminist art in the Chinese contemporary art world. The resulting analysis helps to elucidate the interconnections among fashion, art and women’s status in China, in pursuit of modernity, the radical expansion of western colonization, domestic political turmoil and, in particular, longstanding patriarchal cultural norms and values.

The legend of Mulan is well-known. She was the daughter who took her father’s place in the army, and after years of service, her martial colleagues were amazed to discover that their comrade was a woman. Interpretations of her action, her story and its variations have been the subject of many studies of Chinese women. Mulan is pictured in illustrated books and other printed material; nevertheless, analysis of her image has largely been neglected. This study focuses on two components of her pictorial history: First, her emotional relationship with her family in scenes of her departure from home and her return; and second, images of Mulan with her horse. Initially, in late-Ming dynasty representations, her horse, often physically disassociated from Mulan, has played a minor, passive role in domestic scenes of Mulan’s departure from home and her return home. In the late nineteenth-century, Mulan’s relationship with her horse became more personal when she was depicted as a member of the “One Hundred Beauties” genre. Finally, the portrayal of Mulan with her horse is dramatically dynamic: they both anticipate participation in battle as depicted in politically motivated advertisement calendar posters relating to the Japanese invasion of China during the 1930s.

This article examines “core socialist values” as a part of the China Dream discourse, in the context of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP)’s search for alternative sources of legitimacy. Using the “visualising our values” poster collection and the “China Dream Child” campaign as case studies, this article argues that such narratives form a crucial part of the CCP’s continuing legitimisation strategy, where the party emphasises its role in providing moral authority and guidance for the general public. In order to lay such claims, the narratives focus on romanticising and homogenising both the imperial and the socialist past, while projecting a strong sense of optimism for the future, based on similar hopes of continuity and homogeneity.

Chinese folk painting nianhua (literal translation, “New Year’s picture”) is a kind of Chinese graphic art, which received a wide popularity in the late XIX – early XX centuries. On the eve of the New Year in China everywhere decorated interiors of living rooms with colorful pictures containing New Year’s greetings, they were pasted on windows, doors, gates. Decorative pictures had a utilitarian and cultic purpose: images of mythological characters and gods symbolized happiness, longevity, prosperity, protected from disasters and misfortunes. At the beginning of the 20th century, nianhua was produced in the woodcutting shops in a woodcut way, since the middle of the 20th century have been used modern technologies, including printing. New Year’s paintings significantly different from national academic painting. The philosophical concept of New Year’s painting was to reflect the spiritual life of the people, moral values, and artistic tastes. The images were built on the basis of folklore motifs, a rhythmic combination of bright colors created a decorative effect, so nianhua is a valuable material that demonstrates the aesthetic representations of the Chinese people, their folk traditions and symbols. The themes of the New Year’s paintings are extremely diverse and includes the following: scenes from classical literature, religious and symbolic and benevolent drawings, genre art painting, calendars depicting 12 cyclic signs of animals, agricultural calendars and advertising pictures. During the history of its existence, the New Year’s picture plays an important political and ideological role. Traditional paintings propagated the foundations of the orthodox Confucian ideology about social and ethical relationships, including hierarchy in the family and society: “Wu lun – the five principles of relationships”, “Xiao – filial piety”, “Ren – patience”. In the second half of the XX century, the New Year's picture is developing as an agitational poster. Under the influence of European painting and modern political processes in Chinese society, artists began to use a new artistic method - revolutionary realism on purpose to illuminate sociopolitical events, propagandize government tasks and resolutions. The basic principles of painting the New Year’s picture are the decorative character (the brightness of colors, the rhythmic combination of color spots), the hyperbolism and idealization of images, the folklore basis of plots and the conventional symbolic-metaphoric language.

What does it mean when Mao Zedong is called 'Father Mao' and when ordinary people in central China put a poster of Mao in the place of their ancestors and the emperor? This article analyzes ordinary affection for the Chinese state and explores changing ideas of the leader as a father and the country as a family. The first part deals with the historical transformation of these metaphors from the late Qing dynasty to the Communist Revolution and Maoism, describing the vernacularization and sentimentalization of the 'Confucian order of the father/son' in twentieth-century China. Against this historical background and based on fieldwork material from central China, the second part deals with the 'mixed feelings' that people in the present day now have for fathers at home, for local officials, and for national leaders.

Dazibao literally translated as big character poster. Since China dynasty era dazibao has functioned as a medium to deliver messages to the public, therefore it is usually posted on an open wall. The use of dazibao as a propaganda medium for Mao Zedong and the Chinese Communist Party has been widely discussed, but in the research process, specific data were found which show that revolutionary action and the number of Red Guards increased sharply in the short period of time after the dazibao of Nie Yuanzi from Beijing University and Mao Zedong were published. These findings aroused interest to dig deeper into dazibao’s strong elements as a Red Guards mobilizing medium during the Cultural Revolution which become the main analysis of this article. Historical approach which consist of heuristic, verification, interpretation, and historiography is used to reconstruct the strength of dazibao. The analysis focuses on the two dazibao mentioned above, along with Mao Zedong's influence and socio-political development at that time as inseparable factors. The result shows that writers background, main issue, form, and diction used are elements of the strength of Nie’s dazibao and supported by Mao’s dazibao caused dazibao to have a very significant function in raising the number of Red Guards during the Chinese Cultural Revolution 1966-1969.Dazibao secara harfiah dalam bahasa Indonesia berarti poster dengan tulisan besar. Sejak era kedinastian Tiongkok telah dikenal dan digunakan sebagai sarana penyampai pesan kepada masyarakat, karena itu biasanya ditempel di dinding terbuka. Pemanfaatan dazibao sebagai sarana propaganda Mao Zedong dan Partai Komunis Tiongkok telah banyak dibahas, tapi dalam proses penelitian ditemukan data spesifik yang menunjukkan bahwa aksi revolusioner dan jumlah Pengawal Merah meningkat tajam dalam jangka waktu singkat setelah publikasi dazibao Nie Yuanzi dari Universitas Beijing dan dazibao Mao Zedong. Temuan tersebut membangkitkan ketertarikan untuk menggali lebih dalam tentang factor-faktor yang menjadi kekuatan dazibao sebagai sarana penggalangan Pengawal Merah pada Revolusi Kebudayaan tersebut. Hal itulah yang menjadi pokok bahasan artikel ini. Metode sejarah yang mencakup tahapan heuristik, verifikasi, interpretasi, dan historiografi digunakan untuk merekonstruksi kekuatan dazibao terutama yang tercermin dalam dazibao Nie dan Mao. Dalam pembahasan pengaruh Mao Zedong serta perkembangan sosial-politik saat itu menjadi bagian tak terpisahkan didalamnya. Hasil analisis menunjukkan bahwa latar penulis, pokok bahasan, tampilan, dan pilihan kata/diksi merupakan faktor-faktor yang menjadi kekuatan dazibao Nie. Ditambah dengan dukungan dari dazibao yang dibuat Mao serta publikasi yang masif menyebabkan dazibao berfungsi sangat signifikan dalam penggalangan Pengawal Merah pada Revolusi Kebudayaan Tiongkok tahun 1966-1969.

In this era of startling developments in the medical field there remains a serious worry about the hazardous potential of various by products which if not properly addressed can lead to consequences of immense public concern. Hospitals and other health care facilities generate waste products which are evidently hazardous to all those exposed to its potentially harmful effects. Need for effective legislation ensuring its safe disposal is supposed to be an integral part of any country's health related policy. This issue is of special importance in developing countries like Pakistan which in spite of framing various regulations for safeguarding public health, seem to overlook its actual implementation. The result unfortunately is the price wehave to pay not only in terms of rampant spread of crippling infections but a significant spending of health budget on combating epidemics which could easily have been avoided through effective waste disposal measures in the first place. Waste classified under the heading 'bio-hazardous' includes any infectious or potentially infectious material which can be injurious or harmful to humans and other living organisms. Amongst the many potential sources are the hospitals or other health delivery centres which are ironically supposed to be the centres of infection control and treatment. Whilst working in these setups, health care workers such as doctors, nurses, paramedical staff and sanitation workers are actually the ones most exposed and vulnerable to these challenges. Biomedical waste may broadly be classified into Infectious and toxic waste. Infectious waste includes sharps, blood, body fluids and tissues etcwhile substances such as radioactive material and by-products of certain drugs qualify as toxic waste. Furthermore health institutions also have to cater for general municipal waste such as carton boxes, paper and plastics. The World Health Organisation has its own general classification of hospital waste divided into almost eight categories of which almost 15% (10% infectious and 5% toxic) is estimated to be of a hazardous nature while the remaining 85% is general non hazardous content.1A recent study from Faisalabad, Pakistan has estimated hospital waste generation around 1 to 1.5 kg / bed /day for public sector hospitals in the region,2while figures quoted from neighbouring India are approximately 0.5 to 2 KG / hospital bed /day.3 Elsewhere in the world variable daily hospital waste production has been observed ranging from as low as 0.14 to 0.49 kg /day in Korea4 and 0.26 to 0.89 kg/day in Greece5to as high as 2.1 to 3.83 kg/day in Turkey6 and 0.84 to 5.8 kg/day in Tanzania.7Ill effects of improper management of hospital waste can manifest as nosocomial infections or occupational hazards such as needle stick injuries. Pathogens or spores can be borne either through the oro-faecal or respiratory routes in addition to direct inoculation through contact with infected needles or sharps. Environmental pollution can result from improper burning of toxic material leading to emission of dioxins, particulate matter or furans into the air. The habitat can also be affected by illegal dumping and landfills or washing up of medical waste released into the sea or river. Potential organisms implicated in diseases secondary to mismanagement of hospital waste disposal include salmonella, cholera, shigella, helminths, strep pneumonia, measles, tuberculosis, herpesvirus, anthrax, meningitis, HIV, hepatitis and candida etc. These infections can cause a considerable strain on the overall health and finances of the community or individuals affected. The basic principal of Public health management i.e 'prevention is better than cure' cannot be more stressed in this scenario as compared to any other health challenge. Health facilities must have a clear policy on hazardous waste management. To ensure a safe environment hospitals need to adopt and implement international and local systems of waste disposal. Hospital waste management plan entails policy and procedures addressing waste generation, accumulation, handling, transportation, storage, treatment and disposal. Waste needs to be collected in marked containers usually colour coded and leak proof. Segregation at source is of vital importance. The standard practice in many countries is the Basic Three Bin System ie to segregate the waste into RED bags/ boxes for sharps, YELLOW bags for biological waste and BLUE or BLACK ones for general/ municipal waste. All hospital staff needs to be trained in the concept of putting the right waste in relevant containers/ bags. They need to know that more than anything else this practice is vital for their own safety. The message can be reinforced through appropriate labelling on the bins and having posters with simple delineations to avoid mixing of different waste types. Sharps essentially should be kept in rigid, leak and puncture-resistant containers which are tightly lidded and labelled. Regular training sessions for nurses and cleaning staff can be organised as they are the personnel who are more likely to deal with waste disposition at the level of their respective departments. Next of course is transportation of waste products to the storage or disposal. Sanitary staff and janitors must be aware of the basic concepts of waste handling and should wear protective clothing, masks and gloves etc, besides ensuring regular practice of disinfection and sterilization techniques.8Special trolleys or vehicles exclusively designed and reserved for biomedical waste and operated by trained individuals should be used for transportation to the dumping or treatment site. Biomedical waste treatment whether on site or off site is a specialised entity involving use of chemicals and equipment intended for curtailing the hazardous potential of the material at hand. Thermal treatment via incinerators, not only results in combustion of organic substances but the final product in the form of non-toxicash is only 10 to 15% of the original solid mass of waste material fed to the machine. Dedicated autoclaves and microwaves can also be used for the purpose of disinfection. Chemicals such as bleach, sodium hydroxides, chlorine dioxide and sodiumhypochlorite are also effective disinfectants having specialised indications. Countries around the world have their own regulations for waste management. United Kingdom practices strict observance of Environmental protection act 1990, Waste managementlicensing regulations 1994 and Hazardous waste regulations 2005 making it one of thesafest countries in terms of hazardous waste disposal. Similar regulations specific for each state have been adopted in United States following passage of the Medical Waste tracking act 1988. In Pakistan, every hospital must comply with the Waste Management Rules 2005 (Environment Protection Act 1997), though actual compliance is far from satisfactory. It is high time that the government and responsible community organisations shape up to seriously tackle the issue of bio hazardous waste management through enforcement of effective policies and standard operating procedures for safeguarding the health and lives of the public in general and health workers in particular. Outbreaks, defined as excess cases of a particular disease or illness which outweighs the response capabilities, have the capacity to overwhelm health care facilities and need timely response and attention to details in order to avoid potentially disastrous sequelae . In this day and age when improvement in public health practices have significantly curtailed outbreak of various diseases, certain viral illnesses continue to make headlines. One of the notable vector borne infectious disease affecting significant portions of south east Asia in the early part of twenty first century is 'Dengue fever'. Dreaded as it is by those suffering from the illness, a lot of the hysteria created is secondary to a lack of education and understanding of the nature of the disease and at times a result of disinformation campaign for vested interests by certain political and media sections.'Dengue' in fact is a Spanish word, assumed to have originated from the Swahili phrase -ka dinga peppo -which describes the disease as being caused by evil spirit. 1 Over the course of time it has been called 'breakbone fever', 'bilious vomiting fever', 'break heart fever', 'dandy fever', 'la dengue' and 'Phillipine, Thai and Singapore hemorrhagic fever' Whilst the first reported case referring to dengue fever as a water poison spread by flying insects, exists in the Chinese medical encyclopedia from Jin Dynasty (265-420 AD), the disease is believed to have disseminated from Africa with the spread of the primary vector, aedes egypti, in the 15th to 19th century as a result of globalisation of slave trade 45In 80% of the patients affected by this condition the presentation is rather insidious and at best characterized by mild fever. The classical 'Dengue fever' present in about 5% of the cases is characterized by high temperature, body aches, vomiting and at times a skin rash. The disease may regresses in two to seven days. However inrare instances (<5%) it may develop into more serious conditions such as Dengue hemorrhagic fever whereby the platelet count is significantly reduced leading to bleeding tendencies and may even culminate in a more life threatening presentation i.e Dengue shock syndrome.6To understand the actual dynamics of Dengue epidemic it is important to understand the mode of its spread in affected areas. Aedes mosquito (significantly Aedes Egypti) acts a vector for this disease. Early morning and evening times7 are favoured by these mosquitos to feed on their prey. There is some evidence that the disease may be transmitted via blood products and organ donation. 8 Moreover vertical transmission (mother to child) has also been reported 9Diagnostic investigations include blood antigen detection through NS-I or nucleic acid detection via PCR. IO Cell cultures and specific serology may also be used for confirming the underlying disease. Whilst sporadic and endemic cases are part of routine medical practice and may not raise any alarm bells, outbreaks certainly need mobilization of appropriate resources for effective control. Needless to say 'prevention is better than cure' and should be the primary target of the health authorities in devising strategies for disease control.The WHO recommended 'Integrated Vector control programme', lays stress on social mobilisation and strengthening of public health bodies, coherent response of health and related departments and effective capacity building of relevant personnel and organisations as well as the community at risk. For Aedes Egypti the primary control revolves around eliminating its habitats such as open sources of water. In a local perspective in our city Peshawar, venue of the recent dengue epidemic, it may be seen in the form of incidental reservoirs such as receptacles and tyres dumped in open areas such as roof tops with rain water accumulating in them and provtdjng excellent breeding habitats, Larvicidal and insecticides may be added to more permanent sources such as watertanks and farm lands. There is not much of a role for spraying with organophosphorous agents which is at times resorted to for public consumption. Public education is the key to any effective strategy which must highlight the need for wearing clothing that fully covers the skin, avoiding unnecessary early morning and evening exposure to vector agents, application of insect repellents and use of mosquito nets. It is also important not to panic if affliction with the disease is suspected as in a vast majority of instances it is a self limiting illness without any long term harmful effects and needs simple conservative management like antipyretics and analgesics.An important consideration for responsible authorities in a dengue epidemic is to ensure that maximum management facilities for simple cases are provided at the community level through primary and secondary health care facilities and that the tertiary care hospitals are not inundated with all sort of patients demanding consultation. These later facilities should be reserved for those patients who end up with any complications or more severe manifestation of the disease.Research is underway to develop an ideal vaccine for Dengue fever. In 2016, a vaccine by the name 'Dengvaxia' was marketed in Phillipines and Indonesia. However with development of new serotypes of the virus, its efficacy has been somewhat compromised.As for treatment , there are no specific antiviral drugs. Management is symptomatic revolving mainly around oral and intravenous hydration. Paracetamol (Acetaminophen) is used for fever as compared to NSAIDS such as Ibuprophen infusion as well as blood and platelet transfusion.Data to date shows that slightly more than twenty three thousand people have been diagnosed with dengue over the past three months ie August to October there is a lower risk of bleeding with the former. Those with more severe form of the disease may need Dextran 2017, in Peshawar, Pakistan with around fourteen thousand needing admission and about sixty nine recorded deaths. The mortality is well within the acceptable international standards of less than 1% for the disease. In the backdrop of all the debate surrounding the current epidemic, one can infer that such outbreaks are best addressed with effective planningwell ahead of the time before the disease threatens to spiral out of control. Simple measures such as covering water storage facilities, using larvicidals where practical, use of insect repellents, mosquito nets and avoiding unnecessary exposure can offerthe best protection. Public health messages via print and electronic media can help educate people in affected areas and allay any anxiety building up from a fear of developing life threatening complications. Health department must mobilise all its resources to ensure local management of diagnosed patients with simple dengue fever and facilitate hospital admission only for those suffering from more severe form of the disease. Moreover the media hype into such situations needs to be addressed through constant updates and discouraging any negative politicking on the issue. To sum up Dengue fever is not really an affliction to be dreaded provided it is viewed and managed in the right perspective.

In this era of startling developments in the medical field there remains a serious worry about the hazardous potential of various by products which if not properly addressed can lead to consequences of immense public concern. Hospitals and other health care facilities generate waste products which are evidently hazardous to all those exposed to its potentially harmful effects. Need for effective legislation ensuring its safe disposal is supposed to be an integral part of any country's health related policy. This issue is of special importance in developing countries like Pakistan which in spite of framing various regulations for safeguarding public health, seem to overlook its actual implementation. The result unfortunately is the price wehave to pay not only in terms of rampant spread of crippling infections but a significant spending of health budget on combating epidemics which could easily have been avoided through effective waste disposal measures in the first place. Waste classified under the heading 'bio-hazardous' includes any infectious or potentially infectious material which can be injurious or harmful to humans and other living organisms. Amongst the many potential sources are the hospitals or other health delivery centres which are ironically supposed to be the centres of infection control and treatment. Whilst working in these setups, health care workers such as doctors, nurses, paramedical staff and sanitation workers are actually the ones most exposed and vulnerable to these challenges. Biomedical waste may broadly be classified into Infectious and toxic waste. Infectious waste includes sharps, blood, body fluids and tissues etcwhile substances such as radioactive material and by-products of certain drugs qualify as toxic waste. Furthermore health institutions also have to cater for general municipal waste such as carton boxes, paper and plastics. The World Health Organisation has its own general classification of hospital waste divided into almost eight categories of which almost 15% (10% infectious and 5% toxic) is estimated to be of a hazardous nature while the remaining 85% is general non hazardous content.1A recent study from Faisalabad, Pakistan has estimated hospital waste generation around 1 to 1.5 kg / bed /day for public sector hospitals in the region,2while figures quoted from neighbouring India are approximately 0.5 to 2 KG / hospital bed /day.3 Elsewhere in the world variable daily hospital waste production has been observed ranging from as low as 0.14 to 0.49 kg /day in Korea4 and 0.26 to 0.89 kg/day in Greece5to as high as 2.1 to 3.83 kg/day in Turkey6 and 0.84 to 5.8 kg/day in Tanzania.7Ill effects of improper management of hospital waste can manifest as nosocomial infections or occupational hazards such as needle stick injuries. Pathogens or spores can be borne either through the oro-faecal or respiratory routes in addition to direct inoculation through contact with infected needles or sharps. Environmental pollution can result from improper burning of toxic material leading to emission of dioxins, particulate matter or furans into the air. The habitat can also be affected by illegal dumping and landfills or washing up of medical waste released into the sea or river. Potential organisms implicated in diseases secondary to mismanagement of hospital waste disposal include salmonella, cholera, shigella, helminths, strep pneumonia, measles, tuberculosis, herpesvirus, anthrax, meningitis, HIV, hepatitis and candida etc. These infections can cause a considerable strain on the overall health and finances of the community or individuals affected. The basic principal of Public health management i.e 'prevention is better than cure' cannot be more stressed in this scenario as compared to any other health challenge. Health facilities must have a clear policy on hazardous waste management. To ensure a safe environment hospitals need to adopt and implement international and local systems of waste disposal. Hospital waste management plan entails policy and procedures addressing waste generation, accumulation, handling, transportation, storage, treatment and disposal. Waste needs to be collected in marked containers usually colour coded and leak proof. Segregation at source is of vital importance. The standard practice in many countries is the Basic Three Bin System ie to segregate the waste into RED bags/ boxes for sharps, YELLOW bags for biological waste and BLUE or BLACK ones for general/ municipal waste. All hospital staff needs to be trained in the concept of putting the right waste in relevant containers/ bags. They need to know that more than anything else this practice is vital for their own safety. The message can be reinforced through appropriate labelling on the bins and having posters with simple delineations to avoid mixing of different waste types. Sharps essentially should be kept in rigid, leak and puncture-resistant containers which are tightly lidded and labelled. Regular training sessions for nurses and cleaning staff can be organised as they are the personnel who are more likely to deal with waste disposition at the level of their respective departments. Next of course is transportation of waste products to the storage or disposal. Sanitary staff and janitors must be aware of the basic concepts of waste handling and should wear protective clothing, masks and gloves etc, besides ensuring regular practice of disinfection and sterilization techniques.8Special trolleys or vehicles exclusively designed and reserved for biomedical waste and operated by trained individuals should be used for transportation to the dumping or treatment site. Biomedical waste treatment whether on site or off site is a specialised entity involving use of chemicals and equipment intended for curtailing the hazardous potential of the material at hand. Thermal treatment via incinerators, not only results in combustion of organic substances but the final product in the form of non-toxicash is only 10 to 15% of the original solid mass of waste material fed to the machine. Dedicated autoclaves and microwaves can also be used for the purpose of disinfection. Chemicals such as bleach, sodium hydroxides, chlorine dioxide and sodiumhypochlorite are also effective disinfectants having specialised indications. Countries around the world have their own regulations for waste management. United Kingdom practices strict observance of Environmental protection act 1990, Waste managementlicensing regulations 1994 and Hazardous waste regulations 2005 making it one of thesafest countries in terms of hazardous waste disposal. Similar regulations specific for each state have been adopted in United States following passage of the Medical Waste tracking act 1988. In Pakistan, every hospital must comply with the Waste Management Rules 2005 (Environment Protection Act 1997), though actual compliance is far from satisfactory. It is high time that the government and responsible community organisations shape up to seriously tackle the issue of bio hazardous waste management through enforcement of effective policies and standard operating procedures for safeguarding the health and lives of the public in general and health workers in particular. Outbreaks, defined as excess cases of a particular disease or illness which outweighs the response capabilities, have the capacity to overwhelm health care facilities and need timely response and attention to details in order to avoid potentially disastrous sequelae . In this day and age when improvement in public health practices have significantly curtailed outbreak of various diseases, certain viral illnesses continue to make headlines. One of the notable vector borne infectious disease affecting significant portions of south east Asia in the early part of twenty first century is 'Dengue fever'. Dreaded as it is by those suffering from the illness, a lot of the hysteria created is secondary to a lack of education and understanding of the nature of the disease and at times a result of disinformation campaign for vested interests by certain political and media sections.'Dengue' in fact is a Spanish word, assumed to have originated from the Swahili phrase -ka dinga peppo -which describes the disease as being caused by evil spirit. 1 Over the course of time it has been called 'breakbone fever', 'bilious vomiting fever', 'break heart fever', 'dandy fever', 'la dengue' and 'Phillipine, Thai and Singapore hemorrhagic fever' Whilst the first reported case referring to dengue fever as a water poison spread by flying insects, exists in the Chinese medical encyclopedia from Jin Dynasty (265-420 AD), the disease is believed to have disseminated from Africa with the spread of the primary vector, aedes egypti, in the 15th to 19th century as a result of globalisation of slave trade 45In 80% of the patients affected by this condition the presentation is rather insidious and at best characterized by mild fever. The classical 'Dengue fever' present in about 5% of the cases is characterized by high temperature, body aches, vomiting and at times a skin rash. The disease may regresses in two to seven days. However inrare instances (<5%) it may develop into more serious conditions such as Dengue hemorrhagic fever whereby the platelet count is significantly reduced leading to bleeding tendencies and may even culminate in a more life threatening presentation i.e Dengue shock syndrome.6To understand the actual dynamics of Dengue epidemic it is important to understand the mode of its spread in affected areas. Aedes mosquito (significantly Aedes Egypti) acts a vector for this disease. Early morning and evening times7 are favoured by these mosquitos to feed on their prey. There is some evidence that the disease may be transmitted via blood products and organ donation. 8 Moreover vertical transmission (mother to child) has also been reported 9Diagnostic investigations include blood antigen detection through NS-I or nucleic acid detection via PCR. IO Cell cultures and specific serology may also be used for confirming the underlying disease. Whilst sporadic and endemic cases are part of routine medical practice and may not raise any alarm bells, outbreaks certainly need mobilization of appropriate resources for effective control. Needless to say 'prevention is better than cure' and should be the primary target of the health authorities in devising strategies for disease control.The WHO recommended 'Integrated Vector control programme', lays stress on social mobilisation and strengthening of public health bodies, coherent response of health and related departments and effective capacity building of relevant personnel and organisations as well as the community at risk. For Aedes Egypti the primary control revolves around eliminating its habitats such as open sources of water. In a local perspective in our city Peshawar, venue of the recent dengue epidemic, it may be seen in the form of incidental reservoirs such as receptacles and tyres dumped in open areas such as roof tops with rain water accumulating in them and provtdjng excellent breeding habitats, Larvicidal and insecticides may be added to more permanent sources such as watertanks and farm lands. There is not much of a role for spraying with organophosphorous agents which is at times resorted to for public consumption. Public education is the key to any effective strategy which must highlight the need for wearing clothing that fully covers the skin, avoiding unnecessary early morning and evening exposure to vector agents, application of insect repellents and use of mosquito nets. It is also important not to panic if affliction with the disease is suspected as in a vast majority of instances it is a self limiting illness without any long term harmful effects and needs simple conservative management like antipyretics and analgesics.An important consideration for responsible authorities in a dengue epidemic is to ensure that maximum management facilities for simple cases are provided at the community level through primary and secondary health care facilities and that the tertiary care hospitals are not inundated with all sort of patients demanding consultation. These later facilities should be reserved for those patients who end up with any complications or more severe manifestation of the disease.Research is underway to develop an ideal vaccine for Dengue fever. In 2016, a vaccine by the name 'Dengvaxia' was marketed in Phillipines and Indonesia. However with development of new serotypes of the virus, its efficacy has been somewhat compromised.As for treatment , there are no specific antiviral drugs. Management is symptomatic revolving mainly around oral and intravenous hydration. Paracetamol (Acetaminophen) is used for fever as compared to NSAIDS such as Ibuprophen infusion as well as blood and platelet transfusion.Data to date shows that slightly more than twenty three thousand people have been diagnosed with dengue over the past three months ie August to October there is a lower risk of bleeding with the former. Those with more severe form of the disease may need Dextran 2017, in Peshawar, Pakistan with around fourteen thousand needing admission and about sixty nine recorded deaths. The mortality is well within the acceptable international standards of less than 1% for the disease. In the backdrop of all the debate surrounding the current epidemic, one can infer that such outbreaks are best addressed with effective planningwell ahead of the time before the disease threatens to spiral out of control. Simple measures such as covering water storage facilities, using larvicidals where practical, use of insect repellents, mosquito nets and avoiding unnecessary exposure can offerthe best protection. Public health messages via print and electronic media can help educate people in affected areas and allay any anxiety building up from a fear of developing life threatening complications. Health department must mobilise all its resources to ensure local management of diagnosed patients with simple dengue fever and facilitate hospital admission only for those suffering from more severe form of the disease. Moreover the media hype into such situations needs to be addressed through constant updates and discouraging any negative politicking on the issue. To sum up Dengue fever is not really an affliction to be dreaded provided it is viewed and managed in the right perspective.

The purpose of the article is to analyse and reveal the changes that took place in the Chinese advertising poster during the twentieth century. The work aims to establish the links between the cultural and political context and the figurative and semantic content of messages in advertising posters. The research methodology involves the use of general scientific and special methods. Historical analysis is used to understand the historical and cultural processes of the twentieth century and their impact on the development of advertising posters in different periods. Content analysis is used to analyse the content and images of advertising posters of different periods and to identify the main themes and ideas they express. Semiotic analysis is used to study signs and symbols in advertising posters; comparative analysis to identify the content and visual differences of advertising posters during the twentieth century. The scientific novelty of the work lies in the identification of differences in the content and images of Chinese advertising posters in different periods of the political history of China in the twentieth century. The interaction between the images of ideological messages of political and social propaganda and commercial advertising is traced. Conclusions. It has been found that the twentieth-century advertising poster is an important component of China's cultural and historical heritage and reflects changes in the country's political, social and cultural context. It is shown that advertising posters used as a means of propaganda in different periods of the twentieth century became less ideological and more focused on the commercial promotion of goods and services over time. The figurative and semantic characteristics and graphic language of the advertising poster have also undergone changes, and hybridisation in the formation of the advertising image, based on the principles of propaganda iconography and new marketing standards in commercial advertisements of the 1980s and 1990s, gradually gave way to new visual advertising forms. Key words: China, advertising poster, propaganda, ideological influence, commercial advertising, image, content.

The Royal Library’s collection of Chinese posters was acquired by purchases in 1978, 2004–2007, 2010 and 2012. In 1998 the Danish society Friends of China donated to the library its collection of exhibits and the remaining items from its sales collection of Chinese posters from the years 1968 to 1978. The Royal Library’s collection of Chinese posters now consists of 458 different posters and 278 duplicates. Some of the posters are made up of several parts, which together form a continuous story. The collection has one item which consists of 24 posters. The oldest poster is from 1950 and shows a black and white portrait of the minister of state Zhou Enlai (1896–1976). The most recent items are from 1983 and one of these is a portrait of the rehabilitated president Liu Shaoqi (1898–1969). The best represented period is from the “Great revolution in proletarian culture”, with about 400 different designs.The collection comprises three types of poster art. The first type consists of a unique design, while the second type is a reproduction of an already existing image, such as an oil painting, aquarelle or a woodcut. The third type is made by adding a text to a photograph.Nearly all of the posters have a title or accompanying text. Mostly these are placed outside of the image, but in some cases one or more short texts constitute part of the visual motive. The posters are for the main part in colour, even the photographs may be shaded blue or green to make them more visually arresting.The motives can be divided into four main groups:1. Politically important persons, where especially Mao Zedong (1893–1976) dominates2. Political agitation, a theme which is very obvious in the period of “cultural revolution”3. Campaigns, particularly for socialism4. I nformational and instructional posters, where the aim is to provide practical information, e.g. about all the products that one can make from a pigApart from the instructional posters, the posters are designed to convey a political wish of the ruling elite. This should be so clear and plain that the viewer is left no room for misunderstanding. All the motives are therefore naturalistic and convey their message together with a title, which usually takes the form of a slogan, e.g. “Long live the socialist proletariat”. The motives of the posters allow one to follow political developments from the first optimistic years before the “cultural revolution”, through the aggressive and hectic years of the “cultural revolution” itself, to the ostensibly idyllic times after Mao Zedong’s death in 1976. The posters also illustrate the place of women in socialistic China from the proclaimed equality to their actual role as servants of a maledominated society.

Abstract This paper focuses on the visual depiction of children venturing into space in China during the late 20th century. I investigate how children are portrayed in Chinese posters and their space exploration themes by comparing them with similar art forms in the Soviet Union and the United States during the 1950s–1980s. Moreover, the study examines how these posters both shaped and reflected the political, social, and gender discourses of the period and served as means of reinforcing the reproductive future while interacting with Chinese historical myths. The study also considers the motivations for including chubby babies in Chinese posters, noting that this primarily resulted from Chinese moral beliefs. By historicizing the meaning-making process behind the “space babies” in Chinese posters, I argue that the depiction of children venturing into space helped in two distinct ways. First, it helped shift traditional immortality ideology into new forms of living and delimit the Chinese’s vision of the reproductive future: a desire to create better futures for our children/humanity by participating in politics. Furthermore, these visualizations apply the form of children as citizens to represent the mother country’s wishes while reflecting the corresponding Chinese national policy and fear of anthropic population expansion.

The starting point of this paper is the 1986 artwork of the then Xiamen-based artist Wu Shanzhuan, called ‘Red Humor’, which reworked references to big-character posters (dazi bao 大字报) and other Mao-era forms of political discourse, recalling the Cultural Revolution. It explains how Wu’s installation offered a provocative microcosm of the overwhelming mood engendered by a logocentric movement to ‘paint the nation red’ with word-images during the years 1966-1967. This discussion of the hyper-real use of the dazi bao during China’s Cultural Revolution era (c.1964-1978) allows us to probe into ‘the legacies of the word made image’ in modern China. The paper argues that, since the 1980s, Wu Shanzhuan has had many emulators and ‘avant-garde successors’, since we have seen multiple examples of parodic deconstructions of the cultural authority of the Chinese character (zi) in recent decades.

AbstractBoth post-1949 Maoist China and post-1978 reform China have seen a national image of “the good life” imprinted on the domestic public imagination. In both cases such images seek to mobilize the Chinese people towards a vision of a better life. In both, the idea of “industriousness” is present, but the vision of what constitutes “the good life” has changed significantly, becoming more determinedly modernist and outward-looking. With the Beijing Olympics of 2008 and the Shanghai World Expo of 2010, suddenly the vision of the good life was not only a national call to arms for industriousness, but also a vision of China projected globally, yet in a way that, domestically, served to maintain the continuity of the communist party in a fast-changing socio-political landscape. So, while the desire for “the good life” remains a national call to arms, the projected images of it may well now depict a drastically different vision of what it actually consists of. Comparison between 1950s Mao propaganda posters and those from other eras will be used in this article to explore the continuity of political rhetoric surrounding “the good life” in contemporary China.

Jarrow, Gail. Bubonic Panic: When Plague Invaded America. Calkins Creek, 2015.If public health seems like it would be one of those topics that would send you to sleep, then Bubonic Plague: When Plague Invaded America by Gail Jarrow will change your mind. This is the final book in her trilogy about Deadly Diseases for middle grades and higher.Jarrow is fairly succinct in presenting the history, transmission, and trajectory of various waves of plague around the world. She briefly charts its first appearance in 541 in Turkey, then vividly describes the second wave that started in 1346 and at its most virulent was named the Black Death, killing millions in Europe and parts of Asia and North Africa. The majority of the book focuses on the third wave, when it reached North America.The third pandemic began in the mid-1800s when China became ground zero for this next wave, which spread to Hong Kong by 1894. Hong Kong was a busy port town and trade and travel on steamships allowed for rapid dispersion of the disease. Researchers from a number of countries sought feverishly to identify the source of the epidemic and learn how it was spread. By the late 1890s two of them had proven it was rat fleas. Unfortunately almost nobody believed them, which became problematic when in 1900 San Francisco saw its first deaths in Chinatown.Jarrow provides a fascinating look at the political and social climate of this period in relation to the attitudes of Americans towards Chinese immigrants and the impact quarantining San Francisco’s Chinatown would have on businesses reliant on trade and tourism. It became a complicated and fraught tug-o-war between politicians, businessmen, doctors and public health officials, fighting about whether to recognize and publicize the deaths and quarantine when the evidence seemed inconclusive as to their cause. Even after proof was offered action was surprisingly slow to follow and the disease was able to spread, although the number of deaths was comparatively low, being in the low hundreds.This well researched book also includes information about contemporary cases in the United States, ongoing research and treatments for all three strains of plague. There are extensive source notes and bibliography, a glossary, timeline, index and an author’s note explaining her keen interest in public health and the importance it had in the past,and will have when the next global pandemic hits. Also included are numerous photographs (some a little gruesome), newspaper clippings, cartoons, posters and illustrations to engage readers’ interest.This will pair perfectly with a middle grade novel, Chasing Secrets by Gennifer Choldenko, 2015 that gives a fictional account of the outbreak in San Francisco.This is a strong finish to a fascinating series that combines history, social issues, scientific research, technological developments and culture in America, showing long term implications for today’s government policies towards health.Highly Recommended: 4 out of 4 starsReviewer: Tammy FlandersTammy is the Reference Coordinator in the Doucette Library of Teaching Resources at the University of Calgary. She also reviews juvenile resources with an eye to classroom use in her blog, Apples with Many Seeds.

1959-1968 yılları arasında Çin Halk Cumhuriyeti Devlet Başkanı olarak görev yapan Liu Şaoçi’ye yönelik Çin Kültür Devrimi (ÇKD) sürecinde propaganda posterleri etkin bir şekilde kullanılarak yoğun bir itibarsızlaştırma propagandası gerçekleştirilmiştir. Liu, itibarsızlaştırılma propagandasında nefret söylemine ve ağır suçlamalara maruz kalmış ve 1969 yılında hayatını kaybetmiştir. 1980 yılında Liu’nun itibarı iade edilmiş, kendine atfedilen çeşitli olumsuz sıfatlar kaldırılmış ve kendisi için ulusal anma töreni düzenlenmiştir. Liu’ya yönelik gerçekleştirilen itibarsızlaştırma propagandası, ÇKD sürecindeki en önemli nefret suçlarından biri olarak ön plana çıkmıştır. Bu dönemde Liu’ya yönelik yapılan itibarsızlaştırma propagandasının ortaya konulması, ÇKD sürecinde Liu’ya karşı gerçekleştirilen nefret suçuna ışık tutulması bakımından önem taşımaktadır. Çalışmada Liu’nun itibarsızlaştırma propagandasında kullanılan posterler incelenerek, Liu’ya yönelik gerçekleştirilen nefret suçunun tespit edilmesi amaçlanmıştır. Bu amaçla çalışma kapsamında Uluslararası Sosyal Tarih Enstitüsü'nden (Internationaal Instituut voor Sociale Geschiedenis, IISG) ulaşılan Liu’ya yönelik itibarsızlaştırma propagandasında kullanılan sekiz propaganda posteri, Charles Sanders Peirce’in göstergebilim kavramları üzerinden analiz edilmiştir. Çalışmada Liu’ya yönelik itibarsızlaştırma propagandasında çeşitlik ideolojik mesajlar ve suçlamalar üzerinden Çin halkının Liu’ya karşı nefret duymasının ve aynı zamanda Liu’ya karşı harekete geçmesinin teşvik edilmesine çalışıldığı bulguları elde edilmiştir. Böylece çalışma kapsamında Liu’ya yönelik itibarsızlaştırma propagandasının ideolojik temeller üzerinden nefret suçu haline getirildiği sonucuna ulaşılmıştır.

What we wear signals our membership within groups, be theyorganised by gender, class, ethnicity or religion. Simultaneously our clothing signifies hierarchies and power relations that sustain dominant power structures. How we dress is an expression of our identity. For Veblen, how we dress expresses wealth and social stratification. In imitating the fashion of the wealthy, claims Simmel, we seek social equality. For Barthes, clothing is embedded with systems of meaning. For Hebdige, clothing has modalities of meaning depending on the wearer, as do clothes for gender (Davis) and for the body (Entwistle). For Maynard, “dress is a significant material practice we use to signal our cultural boundaries, social separations, continuities and, for the present purposes, political dissidences” (103). Clothing has played a central role in historical and contemporary forms of political dissent. During the French Revolution dress signified political allegiance. The “mandated costumes, the gold-braided coat, white silk stockings, lace stock, plumed hat and sword of the nobility and the sober black suit and stockings” were rejected as part of the revolutionary struggle (Fairchilds 423). After the storming of the Bastille the government of Paris introduced the wearing of the tricolour cockade, a round emblem made of red, blue and white ribbons, which was a potent icon of the revolution, and a central motif in building France’s “revolutionary community”. But in the aftermath of the revolution divided loyalties sparked power struggles in the new Republic (Heuer 29). In 1793 for example anyone not wearing the cockade was arrested. Specific laws were introduced for women not wearing the cockade or for wearing it in a profane manner, resulting in six years in jail. This triggered a major struggle over women’s abilities to exercise their political rights (Heuer 31).Clothing was also central to women’s political struggles in America. In the mid-nineteenth century, women began wearing the “reform dress”—pants with shortened, lightweight skirts in place of burdensome and restrictive dresses (Mas 35). The wearing of pants, or bloomers, challenged gender norms and demonstrated women’s agency. Women’s clothes of the period were an "identity kit" (Ladd Nelson 22), which reinforced “society's distinctions between men and women by symbolizing their natures, roles, and responsibilities” (Ladd Nelson 22, Roberts 555). Men were positioned in society as “serious, active, strong and aggressive”. They wore dark clothing that “allowed movement, emphasized broad chests and shoulders and presented sharp, definite lines” (Ladd Nelson 22). Conversely, women, regarded as “frivolous, inactive, delicate and submissive, dressed in decorative, light pastel coloured clothing which inhibited movement, accentuated tiny waists and sloping shoulders and presented an indefinite silhouette” (Ladd Nelson 22, Roberts 555). Women who challenged these dress codes by wearing pants were “unnatural, and a perversion of the “true” woman” (Ladd Nelson 22). For Crane, the adoption of men’s clothing by women challenged dominant values and norms, changing how women were seen in public and how they saw themselves. The wearing of pants came to “symbolize the movement for women's rights” (Ladd Nelson 24) and as with women in France, Victorian society was forced to consider “women's rights, including their right to choose their own style of dress” (Ladd Nelson 23). As Yangzom (623) puts it, clothing allows groups to negotiate boundaries. How the “embodiment of dress itself alters political space and civic discourse is imperative to understanding how resistance is performed in creating social change” (Yangzom 623). Fig. 1: 1850s fashion bloomersIn a different turn is presented in Mahatma Gandhi’s Khadi movement. Khadi is a term used for fabrics made on a spinning wheel (or charkha) or hand-spun and handwoven, usually from cotton fibre. Khadi is considered the “fabric of Indian independence” (Jain). Gandhi recognised the potential of the fabric to a self-reliant, independent India. Gandhi made the struggle for independence synonymous with khadi. He promoted the materials “simplicity as a social equalizer and made it the nation’s fabric” (Sinha). As Jain notes, clothing and in this case fabric, is a “potent sign of resistance and change”. The material also reflects consciousness and agency. Khadi was Gandhi’s “own sartorial choices of transformation from that of an Englishman to that of one representing India” (Jain). For Jain the “key to Khadi becoming a successful tool for the freedom struggle” was that it was a “material embodiment of an ideal” that “represented freedom from colonialism on the one hand and a feeling of self-reliance and economic self-sufficiency on the other”. Fig. 2: Gandhi on charkha The reappropriating of Khadi as a fabric of political dissent echoes the wearing of blue denim by the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) at the 1963 National Mall Washington march where 250,000 people gather to hear Martin Luther King speak. The SNCC formed in 1960 and from then until the 1963 March on Washington they developed a “style aesthetic that celebrated the clothing of African American sharecroppers” (Ford 626). A critical aspect civil rights activism by African America women who were members of the SNCC was the “performance of respectability”. With the moral character of African American women under attack (as a way of delegitimising their political activities), the female activists “emphasized the outward display of their respectability in order to withstand attacks against their characters”. Their modest, neat “as if you were going to church” (Chappell 96) clothing choices helped them perform respectability and this “played an important performative role in the black freedom struggle” (Ford 626). By 1963 however African American female civil rights activists “abandoned their respectable clothes and processed hairstyles in order to adopt jeans, denim skirts, bib-and-brace overalls”. The adoption of bib-and-brace overalls reflected the sharecropper's blue denim overalls of America’s slave past.For Komar the blue denim overalls “dramatize[d] how little had been accomplished since Reconstruction” and the overalls were practical to fix from attack dog tears and high-pressure police hoses. The blue denim overalls, according to Komar, were also considered to be ‘Negro clothes’ purchased by “slave owners bought denim for their enslaved workers, partly because the material was sturdy, and partly because it helped contrast them against the linen suits and lace parasols of plantation families”. The clothing choice was both practical and symbolic. While the ‘sharecropper’ narrative is problematic as ‘traditional’ clothing (something not evident in the case of Ghandi’s Khandi Movement, there is an emotion associated with the clothing. As Barthes (6-7) has shown, what makes ‘traditional clothing,’ traditional is that it is part of a normative system where not only does clothing have its historical place, but it is governed by its rules and regimentation. Therefore, there is a dialectical exchange between the normative system and the act of dressing where as a link between the two, clothing becomes the conveyer of its meanings (7). Barthes calls this system, langue and the act of dressing parole (8). As Ford does, a reading of African American women wearing what she calls a “SNCC Skin” “the uniform [acts] consciously to transgress a black middle-class worldview that marginalised certain types of women and particular displays of blackness and black culture”. Hence, the SNCC women’s clothing represented an “ideological metamorphosis articulated through the embrace and projection of real and imagined southern, working-class, and African American cultures. Central to this was the wearing of the blue denim overalls. The clothing did more than protect, cover or adorn the body it was a conscious “cultural and political tool” deployed to maintain a movement and build solidarity with the aim of “inversing the hegemonic norms” via “collective representations of sartorial embodiment” (Yangzom 622).Fig. 3: Mississippi SNCC March Coordinator Joyce Ladner during the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom political rally in Washington, DC, on 28 Aug. 1963Clothing in each of these historical examples performs an ideological function that can bridge, that is bring diverse members of society together for a cause, or community cohesion or clothing can act as a fence to keep identities separate (Barnard). This use of clothing is evident in two indigenous examples. For Maynard (110) the clothes worn at the 1988 Aboriginal ‘Long March of Freedom, Justice and Hope’ held in Australia signalled a “visible strength denoted by coherence in dress” (Maynard 112). Most noted was the wearing of colours – black, red and yellow, first thought to be adopted during protest marches organised by the Black Protest Committee during the 1982 Commonwealth Games in Brisbane (Watson 40). Maynard (110) describes the colour and clothing as follows:the daytime protest march was dominated by the colours of the Aboriginal people—red, yellow and black on flags, huge banners and clothing. There were logo-inscribed T-shirts, red, yellow and black hatband around black Akubra’s, as well as red headbands. Some T-shirts were yellow, with images of the Australian continent in red, others had inscriptions like 'White Australia has a Black History' and 'Our Land Our Life'. Still others were inscribed 'Mourn 88'. Participants were also in customary dress with body paint. Older Indigenous people wore head bands inscribed with the words 'Our Land', and tribal elders from the Northern Territory, in loin cloths, carried spears and clapping sticks, their bodies marked with feathers, white clay and red ochres. Without question, at this most significant event for Aboriginal peoples, their dress was a highly visible and cohesive aspect.Similar is the Tibetan Freedom Movement, a nonviolent grassroots movement in Tibet and among Tibet diaspora that emerged in 2008 to protest colonisation of Tibet. It is also known as the ‘White Wednesday Movement’. Every Wednesday, Tibetans wear traditional clothes. They pledge: “I am Tibetan, from today I will wear only Tibetan traditional dress, chuba, every Wednesday”. A chuba is a colourful warm ankle-length robe that is bound around the waist by a long sash. For the Tibetan Freedom Movement clothing “symbolically functions as a nonverbal mechanism of communication” to “materialise consciousness of the movement” and functions to shape its political aims (Yangzom 622). Yet, in both cases – Aboriginal and Tibet protests – the dress may “not speak to single cultural audience”. This is because the clothing is “decoded by those of different political persuasions, and [is] certainly further reinterpreted or reframed by the media” (Maynard 103). Nevertheless, there is “cultural work in creating a coherent narrative” (Yangzom 623). The narratives and discourse embedded in the wearing of a red, blue and white cockade, dark reform dress pants, cotton coloured Khadi fabric or blue denim overalls is likely a key feature of significant periods of political upheaval and dissent with the clothing “indispensable” even if the meaning of the clothing is “implied rather than something to be explicated” (Yangzom 623). On 21 January 2017, 250,000 women marched in Washington and more than two million protesters around the world wearing pink knitted pussy hats in response to the remarks made by President Donald Trump who bragged of grabbing women ‘by the pussy’. The knitted pink hats became the “embodiment of solidarity” (Wrenn 1). For Wrenn (2), protests such as this one in 2017 complete with “protest visuals” which build solidarity while “masking or excluding difference in the process” indicates “a tactical sophistication in the social movement space with its strategic negotiation of politics of difference. In formulating a flexible solidarity, the movement has been able to accommodate a variety of races, classes, genders, sexualities, abilities, and cultural backgrounds” (Wrenn 4). In doing so they presented a “collective bodily presence made publicly visible” to protest racist, sexist, homophobic, Islamophobic, and xenophobic white masculine power (Gokariksel & Smith 631). The 2017 Washington Pussy Hat March was more than an “embodiment tactic” it was an “image event” with its “swarms of women donning adroit posters and pink pussy hats filling the public sphere and impacting visual culture”. It both constructs social issues and forms public opinion hence it is an “argumentative practice” (Wrenn 6). Drawing on wider cultural contexts, as other acts of dissent note here do, in this protest with its social media coverage, the “master frame” of the sea of pink hats and bodies posited to audiences the enormity of the anger felt in the community over attacks on the female body – real or verbal. This reflects Goffman’s theory of framing to describe the ways in which “protestors actively seek to shape meanings such that they spark the public’s support and encourage political openings” (Wrenn 6). The hats served as “visual tropes” (Goodnow 166) to raise social consciousness and demonstrate opposition. Protest “signage” – as the pussy hats can be considered – are a visual representation and validation of shared “invisible thoughts and emotions” (Buck-Coleman 66) affirming Georg Simmel’s ideas about conflict; “it helps individuals define their differences, establish to which group(s) they belong, and determine the degrees to which groups are different from each other” (Buck-Coleman 66). The pink pussy hat helped define and determine membership and solidarity. Further embedding this was the hand-made nature of the hat. The pattern for the hat was available free online at https://www.pussyhatproject.com/knit/. The idea began as one of practicality, as it did for the reform dress movement. This is from the Pussy Hat Project website:Krista was planning to attend the Women’s March in Washington DC that January of 2017 and needed a cap to keep her head warm in the chill winter air. Jayna, due to her injury, would not be able to attend any of the marches, but wanted to find a way to have her voice heard in absentia and somehow physically “be” there. Together, a marcher and a non-marcher, they conceived the idea of creating a sea of pink hats at Women’s Marches everywhere that would make both a bold and powerful visual statement of solidarity, and also allow people who could not participate themselves – whether for medical, financial, or scheduling reasons — a visible way to demonstrate their support for women’s rights. (Pussy Hat Project)In the tradition of “craftivism” – the use of traditional handcrafts such as knitting, assisted by technology (in this case a website with the pattern and how to knit instructions), as a means of community building, skill-sharing and action directed towards “political and social causes” (Buszek & Robertson 197) –, the hand-knitted pink pussy hats avoided the need to purchase clothing to show solidarity resisting the corporatisation of protest clothing as cautioned by Naomi Klein (428). More so by wearing something that could be re-used sustained solidarity. The pink pussy hats provided a counter to the “incoherent montage of mass-produced clothing” often seen at other protests (Maynard 107). Everyday clothing however does have a place in political dissent. In late 2018, French working class and middle-class protestors donned yellow jackets to protest against the government of French President Emmanuel Macron. It began with a Facebook appeal launched by two fed-up truck drivers calling for a “national blockade” of France’s road network in protest against rising fuel prices was followed two weeks later with a post urging motorist to display their hi-vis yellow vests behind their windscreens in solidarity. Four million viewed the post (Henley). Weekly protests continued into 2019. The yellow his-vis vests are compulsorily carried in all motor cars in France. They are “cheap, readily available, easily identifiable and above all representing an obligation imposed by the state”. The yellow high-vis vest has “proved an inspired choice of symbol and has plainly played a big part in the movement’s rapid spread” (Henley). More so, the wearers of the yellow vests in France, with the movement spreading globally, are winning in “the war of cultural representation. Working-class and lower middle-class people are visible again” (Henley). Subcultural clothing has always played a role as heroic resistance (Evans), but the coloured dissent dressing associated with the red, blue and white ribboned cockades, the dark bloomers of early American feminists, the cotton coloured natural fabrics of Ghandi’s embodiment of resistance and independence, the blue denim sharecropper overalls worn by African American women in their struggles for civil rights, the black, red and orange of Aboriginal protestors in Australia and the White Wednesday performances of resistance undertaken by Tibetans against Chinese colonisation, the Washington Pink Pussy Hat marches for gender respect and equality and the donning of every yellow hi-vis vests by French protestors all posit the important role of fabric and colour in protest meaning making and solidarity building. It is in our rage we consciously wear the colours and fabrics of dissent dress. ReferencesBarnard, Malcolm. Fashion as Communication. New York: Routledge, 1996. Barthes, Roland. “History and Sociology of Clothing: Some Methodological Observations.” The Language of Fashion. Eds. Michael Carter and Alan Stafford. UK: Berg, 2006. 3-19. Buck-Coleman, Audra. “Anger, Profanity, and Hatred.” Contexts 17.1 (2018): 66-73.Buszek, Maria Elena, and Kirsty Robertson. “Introduction.” Utopian Studies 22.1 (2011): 197-202. Chappell, Marisa, Jenny Hutchinson, and Brian Ward. “‘Dress Modestly, Neatly ... As If You Were Going to Church’: Respectability, Class and Gender in the Montgomery Bus Boycott and the Early Civil Rights Movement.” Gender and the Civil Rights Movement. Eds. Peter J. Ling and Sharon Monteith. New Brunswick, N.J., 2004. 69-100.Crane, Diana. Fashion and Its Social Agendas. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000. Davis, Fred. Fashion, Culture, and Identity. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992.Entwistle, Joanne. The Fashioned Body: Fashion, Dress, and Modern Social Theory. Cambridge: Polity Press, 2000.Evans, Caroline. “Dreams That Only Money Can Buy ... Or the Shy Tribe in Flight from Discourse.” Fashion Theory 1.2 (1997): 169-88.Fairchilds, Cissie. “Fashion and Freedom in the French Revolution.” Continuity and Change 15.3 (2000): 419-33.Ford, Tanisha C. “SNCC Women, Denim, and the Politics of Dress.” The Journal of Southern History 79.3 (2013): 625-58.Gökarıksel, Banu, and Sara Smith. “Intersectional Feminism beyond U.S. Flag, Hijab and Pussy Hats in Trump’s America.” Gender, Place & Culture 24.5 (2017): 628-44.Goodnow, Trischa. “On Black Panthers, Blue Ribbons, & Peace Signs: The Function of Symbols in Social Campaigns.” Visual Communication Quarterly 13 (2006): 166-79.Hebdige, Dick. Subculture: The Meaning of Style. London: Routledge, 2002. Henley, Jon. “How Hi-Vis Yellow Vest Became Symbol of Protest beyond France: From Brussels to Basra, Gilets Jaunes Have Brought Visibility to People and Their Grievances.” The Guardian 21 Dec. 2018. <https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/dec/21/how-hi-vis-yellow-vest-became-symbol-of-protest-beyond-france-gilets-jaunes>.Heuer, Jennifer. “Hats On for the Nation! Women, Servants, Soldiers and the ‘Sign of the French’.” French History 16.1 (2002): 28-52.Jain, Ektaa. “Khadi: A Cloth and Beyond.” Bombay Sarvodaya Mandal & Gandhi Research Foundation. ND. 19 Dec. 2018 <https://www.mkgandhi.org/articles/khadi-a-cloth-and-beyond.html>. Klein, Naomi. No Logo. London: Flamingo, London, 2000. Komar, Marlen. “What the Civil Rights Movement Has to Do with Denim: The History of Blue Jeans Has Been Whitewashed.” 30 Oct. 2017. 19 Dec. 2018 <https://www.racked.com/2017/10/30/16496866/denim-civil-rights-movement-blue-jeans-history>.Ladd Nelson, Jennifer. “Dress Reform and the Bloomer.” Journal of American and Comparative Cultures 23.1 (2002): 21-25.Maynard, Margaret. “Dress for Dissent: Reading the Almost Unreadable.” Journal of Australian Studies 30.89 (2006): 103-12. Pussy Hat Project. “Design Interventions for Social Change.” 20 Dec. 2018. <https://www.pussyhatproject.com/knit/>.Roberts, Helene E. “The Exquisite Slave: The Role of Clothes in the Making of the Victorian Woman.” Signs (1977): 554-69.Simmel, Georg. “Fashion.” American Journal of Sociology 62 (1957): 541–58.Sinha, Sangita. “The Story of Khadi, India's Signature Fabric.” Culture Trip 2018. 18 Jan. 2019 <https://theculturetrip.com/asia/india/articles/the-story-of-khadi-indias-fabric/>.Yangzom, Dicky. “Clothing and Social Movements: Tibet and the Politics of Dress.” Social Movement Studies 15.6 (2016): 622-33. Veblen, Thorstein. The Theory of the Leisure Class: An Economic Study of Institutions. New York: Dover Thrift, 1899. Watson, Lilla. “The Commonwealth Games in Brisbane 1982: Analysis of Aboriginal Protests.” Social Alternatives 7.1 (1988): 1-19.Wrenn, Corey. “Pussy Grabs Back: Bestialized Sexual Politics and Intersectional Failure in Protest Posters for the 2017 Women’s March.” Feminist Media Studies (2018): 1-19.

IntroductionThe popularity of social networking sites (SNSs) bears witness to thriving movement protests worldwide. The development of new hardware technologies such as mobile devices and digital cameras, in particular, has fast enhanced visual communications among users that help document and broadcast contemporary social movements. Using social media with these technologies thus presents new opportunities for grassroots social movement organisations (SMOs) and activist groups to become narrators of their activist lives, and to promote solidarity and recognition for advancing varied civic and political agendas. With the case of a student activist group that led and organised a 10-day occupation protest in Hong Kong, this article examines the idea of new media-savvy SMOs as political curators that employ SNS platforms to (co-)create digital narratives at large-scale movement protests. Invoking the concepts of curation and choreography, it highlights how these processes can work together to encourage contentious engagement and collaboration in contemporary social movements.The New Media-Savvy SMO as Political CuratorWhereas traditional social movement studies stressed the importance of pre-existing social networks and organisational structures for collective action, developments in new information and communication technologies (ICTs) challenge the common theories of how people are drawn into and participate in social movements. In recent years, a spate of research has particularly emphasised the ability of individuals and small groups to self-organise on the Internet (e.g. Rheingold). Lately, observing the use of SNSs such as Facebook and Twitter in contemporary social movements, work in this area has focused on how SNSs enable movement diffusion through personal networks and individuals’ online activities even without either the aid or the oversight of an organisation (e.g. Shirky).However, horizontal activism self-organised by atomised new media users seems insufficient as an explanation of how many recent protest movements achieved their high tides. While the flourishing literature shows writers have correctly centred their study on the changing dynamics in control over information and the growing importance of individual users’ contributions, it fails to account for the crucial role that SMOs continue to play. In fact, recent studies consistently observe the continuing importance of SMOs in mobilising and coordinating collective actions in online environments (Bimber, Flanagin, and Stohl, Collective). Whereas new ICTs have provided activist groups with the instrument to deal with their contentious activities with less cueing and leadership from conventional institutionalised structures, SMOs have created their own new media resources. Nowadays, a significant percentage of protest participants have received their information from online platforms that are run by or affiliated with these organisations. The critical questions remain about the kinds of communication methods they utilise to activate and integrate independent activists’ networks and participation, especially in emerging social media environments.Unfortunately, existing research tends to overlook the discursive potentials and cultural dimensions in online activism while emphasising the cost-effectiveness and organisational function of new ICTs. In particular, social movement and new media scholars merely attended to the ways in which digital media enable widescale, relatively un-coordinated contributions to repositories of resources for networks of activists and interest groups, as SNS applications stress the importance of user participation, openness, and network effects in the processes of content production and sharing. However, the mere existence or even “surplus” (Shirky 27) of “second-order communal goods” (Bimber, Flanagin, and Stohl, “Reconceptualizing” 372)—a collection of resources created collectively but without a bounded community, through video-posting, tagging, and circulation practices engaged in by individuals—does not accidentally result in critical publics that come to take part in political activism. Rather, social movements are, above all, the space for manifesting ideas, choices, and a collective will, in which people produce their own history through their cultural creations and social struggles (Touraine). As such, the alteration of meaning, the struggle to define the situation, and the discursive practices carried out within a social movement are all major aspects of social movements and change (Melucci).Indeed, SMOs and marginalised communities worldwide have increasingly learnt the ability to become narrators of their activist and community lives, and to express solidarity and recognition afforded through technology adoption. The recent proliferation of social media applications and mobile digital technologies has allowed activist groups to create and distribute their own stories regarding concrete actions, ongoing campaigns, and thematic issues of protest movements on more multimedia platforms. In order to advance political ideas and collective action frames, they may bring together a variety of online content in such a way that the collated materials offer a commentary on a subject area by articulating and negotiating new media artefacts, while also inviting responses. Therefore, not only are the new media channels for activist communication comparatively inexpensive, but they also provide for a richer array of content and the possibility of greater control by SMOs over its (re-)creation, maintenance, and distribution for potential digital narrating. To understand how digital narrating takes place in contemporary protest movements with SNSs, we now turn to two analytic concepts—curation and choreography.Social Media Content Curation and Choreography Curation, as a new media practice, involves finding, categorising, and organising relevant online content on specific issues. For instance, museums and libraries may have curators to select and feature digital items for collection and display, improving the types of information accessible to a public audience. In protest movements, SMOs and political actors may also curate peer-produced content on SNS platforms so as to filter and amplify useful information for mobilising collective action. In fact, this process by SMOs and political actors is particularly important, as it helps sort and draw timely attention to these information sources, especially at times when users are faced with a large amount of noise created by millions of producers (Bennett, Segerberg, and Walker). More importantly, not only does content curating entail the selection and preservation of online materials that may facilitate collective action, but it may also involve the (re-)presentation of selected content by telling stories not being told or by telling existing stories in a different way (Fotopoulou and Couldry). In contrast to professional collecting, it is a much more deliberate process, one which clearly articulates and puts forwards (opportunities for) new meanings or new understanding of a subject (Franks). For example, when new media content is re-posted or shared in its original form but in a new context, digital narrating occurs as it may result in a new or additional layer of meaning (Baym and Shah). Therefore, more than merely expending information resources available to activists, the power of curation can be understood primarily as discursive, as users may pick up particular versions of reality in interpreting social issues and protest movements (Bekkers, Moody, and Edwards).Moreover, nowadays, social media curating is not restricted to text but also includes image and video streaming, as the development of mobile devices and digital cameras has facilitated and enhanced instant communication and information retrieval almost regardless of location. The practice of content curating with SNSs may also involve the process of choreographing with various social media modules, such as posting a series of edited pictures under an overarching schema and organising user-generated photos into an album that suggests a particular theme. Rather than simply using a single visual item designed to tell a story, the idea of choreographing is thus concerned with how curated items are seen and experienced from the users’ perspectives as it “allows curators not just to expose elements of a story but to tell a structured tale with the traditional elements of beginning, middle and end” (Franks 288).In practice, the implementation of choreography can be envisioned to bring together the practice of content curating and that of enhancing and connecting contentious engagement at protest movements. For example, when SMOs make use of images and video to help frame an issue in a more advanced way by sharing a picture with a comment added on Facebook, they may at once, whether consciously or unconsciously, suggest possible endorsement to the selected content and/or the source—may it be that of an individual user or a formal organisation—while drawing attention to the image and circulating it beyond the original network for which it was posted (Bennett, Segerberg, and Walker). As such, by posting pictures with captions and sharing user-generated photos that do not belong to the SMO but are produced by other users, curating and choreographing with social media content can create a temporary space for practicing mutual recognition and extending the relationship between the SMO and the larger public. Combined, they may therefore “entail the creation of norms and boundaries in particular user communities and their platforms” (Bennett, Segerberg, and Walker 239).This article examines the ways in which a new media-savvy SMO employed SNS platforms to (co-)create digital narratives, with the case of the 2012 Anti-National Education Movement in Hong Kong. By highlighting how social media content curating and choreographing may work together to encourage engagement and collaboration at large-scale protests, we can better understand how emerging SNS-enabled affordances can be translated into concrete contentious activities, as well as the discursive aspects and cultural expressions of using new media platforms and digital technologies in contemporary protest movements.Digital Narrating for Grassroots Mobilisation Since 2010, the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region government has undertaken “national education” curriculum reform. However, the worry about mainland-Chinese style national education in schools brought people out to defend values that were held dear in Hong Kong. Scholarism, a new media-savvy SMO founded by about 20 secondary school students in May 2011, became the first pressure group formed against the “Moral and National Education” curriculum and became the leading activist group. On 30 August 2012, about 50 members and supporters of Scholarism started occupying the public area in front of the government’s headquarters, while three of its members went on a hunger strike. At the same time, Scholarism made active use of Facebook to undertake grassroots mobilisation, prompting both online activism and offline participation. On 7 September, over 120,000 people went to Occupy Headquarters. The next day, the Chief Executive, C. Y. Leung, succumbed to the pressure and declared that the curriculum would not be imposed in Hong Kong schools. In order to initiate a grassroots mobilisation, upon the beginning of Occupy Headquarters, Scholarism carried out the new media practice of telling the story of the student hunger strikers on Facebook to create a “moral shock” (Jasper 106) among the general public. On the first day of the occupation protest, 30 August, a poster on the hunger strike was released by Scholarism on its Facebook page. Instead of providing detailed information about the protest movement, this poster was characterised by the pictures of the three student hunger strikers. The headline message simply stated “We have started the hunger strike.” This poster was very popular among Facebook users; it accumulated more than 16,000 likes.By appealing to the hardships and sufferings of the three student hunger strikers, more photos were uploaded to narrate the course of the hunger strike and the occupation protest. In particular, pictures with captions added were posted on Facebook every couple of hours to report on the student hunger strikers’ latest situation. Although the mobilising power of these edited pictures did not come from their political ideology or rational argumentation, they sought to appeal to the “martyr-hood” of the student activists. Soon thereafter, as the social media updates of the student hunger strikers spread, feelings of shock and anger grew rapidly. Most of the comments that were posted under the updates and photos of the student hunger strikers on Scholarism’s Facebook page protested against the government’s brutality.In addition, as the movement grew, Scholarism extended the self-reporting activities on Facebook from members to non-members. For instance, it frequently (self-)reported on the amount of people joining the movement days and nights. This was especially so on 7 September, when Scholarism uploaded multiple photos and text messages to report on the physical movement of the 120,000 people. As a movement strategy, the display of images of protests and rallies on the Internet can help demonstrate the legitimacy, unity, numbers, and commitment of people supporting the movement goals (Carty and Onyett). Curating and choreographing with protest images on Facebook therefore facilitated the symbolic interactions and emotional exchanges among activists for maintaining movement solidarity and consolidating activist identity.To demonstrate the public support for its organisation and the movement, Scholarism extensively reported on its own, as well as other, protest activities and efforts on Facebook against the introduction of the “Moral and National Education” curriculum, creating unprecedented parallel public records of these events. In fact, throughout the entire movement protest, Scholarism took tight photo records of protest activities, systematically organised them into albums, and uploaded them onto Facebook every day between 30 August and 8 September.Content Co-Creation for Counter-Hegemonic ExpressionsFrom a (neo-)Gramscian perspective, counter-hegemony is often embedded and embodied in music, novels, drama, movies, and so on (Boggs). An example of counter-hegemony in the traditional media is a documentary that questions the government’s involvement in a war (Cohen). Therefore, popular culture in the media may help foster counter-hegemony on the terrain of civil society in preparation for political change (Pratt). For Chinese communities in East Asia, pop music, for example, had played a significant role in organising patriotic feelings in mass protest events, such as the Tiananmen demonstrations of 1989 and the many subsequent protests in Hong Kong, Taiwan, and elsewhere against the violence of the Beijing government (Chow 153). During the occupation protest, Facebook was turned into an open and flexible discursive space, in which cutting-edge counter-hegemonic narratives were produced, distributed, and expressed. Scholarism and many individual activists adopted the social media platform to (co-)create activists’ discourses and knowledge in order to challenge the dominant political and cultural codes (Melucci). An example is a poster created by Scholarism, posted on its Facebook page on 4 September. The title message of this poster is: “This is not the government headquarters. This is our CIVIC SQUARE. Come and occupy!” This message represents a discursive intervention that seeks to “illuminate the limits of normative discourses of knowledge and power” (Lane 138). It did so by replacing the original, official name and meaning of the government headquarters as well as its authority with the counter-hegemonic idea of “civic square,” a term developed and coined by Scholarism during the occupation protest to represent the public space in front of the headquarters.Moreover, the Facebook page of Scholarism was by no means the only source of content out of which counter-hegemonic knowledge and discourses were produced. Conversely, most of the new media artefacts observed on the Facebook page of Scholarism were originally created by and posted on, and therefore re-posted and shared from, the Facebook pages of other individual or group users. They are in forms of text, picture, video, and the like that sought to undermine the legitimacy of the Hong Kong government, ridicule the rationale of the “Moral and National Education” curriculum, and discredit figures in the opposition.An example is a cartoon made by an individual user and re-posted on the Facebook page of Scholarism on 2 September, the day before schools restarted in Hong Kong after the summer break. This cartoon features a schoolboy in his school uniform, who is going to school with a bunch of identical locks tied to his head. The title message is: “School begins, keep your brain safe.” This cartoon was created to ridicule the rationale of the introduction of the “Moral and National Education” by “making visible the underlying and hidden relations of power on which the smooth operation of government repression depends” (Lane 136).Another new media artefact re-posted on the Facebook page of Scholarism was originally created by a well-known Hong Kong cartoon painter of a major local newspaper. This cartoon sought to humanise the student activists and to condemn the brutality of the Hong Kong government. It paints an imagined situation in which a public conversation between the Secretary for Education, Hak-kim Eddie Ng, and the three students on the hunger strike takes place. In this cartoon, Ng is cast as the wholesaler of the “Moral and National Education” curriculum. Holding a bottle of liquid in his hand, he says to the students: “This is the tears of the chief executive from last night. Kids, should you all go home now?”Thus, counter-hegemonic expressions did not flow unidirectionally from Scholarism to the society at large. The special role of Scholarism was indeed to curate and choreograph new media artefacts by employing social media modules such as re-posting and sharing user-generated content. In so doing, it facilitated the mobilisation of the occupation protest and instant collaboration, as it connected scattered activities, turned them into a collective, and branded it with a common identity, conviction, and/or purpose.ConclusionThis article has briefly looked at the case of a new media-savvy SMO in Hong Kong as an example of how activist groups can become political curators at large-scale protest events. In particular, it highlights the concepts of curation and choreography in explaining how emerging SNS-enabled affordances can be translated into concrete contentious activities. This article argues that, rather than simply producing and disseminating content on SNS platforms, SMOs today have learnt to actively construct stories about protest movements with social media modules such as (re-)posting edited pictures and sharing user-generated photos in order to mobilise effective political interventions and sustain a vibrant participatory culture.ReferencesBaym, Geoffrey, and Chirag Shah. “Circulating Struggle: The On-Line Flow of Environmental Advocacy Clips from the Daily Show and the Colbert Report.” Information Communication & Society 14.7 (2011): 1017–38. Bekkers, Victor, Rebecca Moody, and Arthur Edwards. “Micro-Mobilization, Social Media and Coping Strategies: Some Dutch Experiences.” Policy and Internet 3.4 (2011): 1–29. Bennett, W. Lance, Alexandra Segerberg, and Shawn Walker. “Organization in the Crowd: Peer Production in Large-Scale Networked Protests.” Information, Communication & Society 17.2 (2014): 232–60. Bimber, Bruce, Andrew J. 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Introduction The first “Aquarius Festival” came together in Canberra, at the Australian National University, in the autumn of 1971 and was reprised in 1973 in the small rural town of Nimbin, in northern New South Wales. Both events reflected the Zeitgeist in what was, in some ways, an inchoate expression of the so-called “counterculture” (Roszak). Rather than attempting to analyse the counterculture as a discrete movement with a definable history, I enlist the theory of cultural memes to read the counter culture as a Dawkinsian cluster meme, with this paper offered as “testimonio”, a form of quasi-political memoir that views shifts in the culture through the lens of personal experience (Zimmerman, Yúdice). I track an evolving personal, “internal” topography and map its points of intersection with the radical social, political and cultural changes spawned by the “consciousness revolution” that was an integral part of the counterculture emerging in the 1970s. I focus particularly on the notion of “consciousness raising”, as a Dawkinsian memetic replicator, in the context of the idealistic notions of the much-heralded “New Age” of Aquarius, and propose that this meme has been a persistent feature of the evolution of the “meme cluster” known as the counterculture. Mimesis and the Counterculture Since evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins floated the notion of cultural memes as a template to account for the evolution of ideas within political cultures, a literature of commentary and criticism has emerged that debates the strengths and weaknesses of his proposed model and its application across a number of fields. I borrow the notion to trace the influence of a set of memes that clustered around the emergence of what writer Marilyn Ferguson called The Aquarian Conspiracy, in her 1980 book of that name. Ferguson’s text, subtitled Personal and Social Transformation in Our Time, was a controversial attempt to account for what was known as the “New Age” movement, with its late millennial focus on social and personal transformation. That focus leads me to approach the counterculture (a term first floated by Theodore Roszak) less as a definable historical movement and more as a cluster of aspirational tropes expressing a range of aspects or concerns, from the overt political activism through to experimental technologies for the transformation of consciousness, and all characterised by a critical interrogation of, and resistance to, conventional social norms (Ferguson’s “personal and social transformation”). With its more overtly “spiritual” focus, I read the “New Age” meme, then, as a sub-set of this “cluster meme”, the counterculture. In my reading, “New Age” and “counterculture” overlap, sharing persistent concerns and a broad enough tent to accommodate the serious—the combative political action of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), say, (see Elbaum)—to the light-hearted—the sport of frisbee for example (Stancil). The interrogation of conventional social and political norms inherited from previous generations was a prominent strategy across both movements. Rather than offering a sociological analysis or history of the ragbag counterculture, per se, my discussion here focuses in on the particular meme of “consciousness raising” within that broader set of cultural shifts, some of which were sustained in their own right, some dropping away, and many absorbed into the dominant mainstream culture. Dawkins use of the term “meme” was rooted in the Greek mimesis, to emphasise the replication of an idea by imitation, or copying. He likened the way ideas survive and change in human culture to the natural selection of genes in biological evolution. While the transmission of memes does not depend on a physical medium, such as the DNA of biology, they replicate with a greater or lesser degree of success by harnessing human social media in a kind of “infectivity”, it is argued, through “contagious” repetition among human populations. Dawkins proposed that just as biological organisms could be said to act as “hosts” for replicating genes, in the same way people and groups of people act as hosts for replicating memes. Even before Dawkins floated his term, French biologist Jacques Monod wrote that ideas have retained some of the properties of organisms. Like them, they tend to perpetuate their structure and to breed; they too can fuse, recombine, segregate their content; indeed they too can evolve, and in this evolution selection must surely play an important role. (165, emphasis mine) Ideas have power, in Monod’s analysis: “They interact with each other and with other mental forces in the same brain, in neighbouring brains, and thanks to global communication, in far distant, foreign brains” (Monod, cited in Gleick). Emblematic of the counterculture were various “New Age” phenomena such as psychedelic drugs, art and music, with the latter contributing the “Aquarius” meme, whose theme song came from the stage musical (and later, film) Hair, and particularly the lyric that runs: “This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius”. The Australian Aquarius Festivals of 1971 and 1973 explicitly invoked this meme in the way identified by Monod and the “Aquarius” meme resonated even in Australia. Problematising “Aquarius” As for the astrological accuracy of the “Age of Aquarius meme”, professional astrologers argue about its dating, and the qualities that supposedly characterise it. When I consulted with two prominent workers in this field for the preparation of this article, I was astonished to find their respective dating of the putative Age of Aquarius were centuries apart! What memes were being “hosted” here? According to the lyrics: When the moon is in the seventh house And Jupiter aligns with Mars Then peace will guide the planets And love will steer the stars. (Hair) My astrologer informants assert that the moon is actually in the seventh house twice every year, and that Jupiter aligns with Mars every two years. Yet we are still waiting for the outbreak of peace promised according to these astrological conditions. I am also informed that there’s no “real” astrological underpinning for the aspirations of the song’s lyrics, for an astrological “Age” is not determined by any planet but by constellations rising, they tell me. Most important, contrary to the aspirations embodied in the lyrics, peace was not guiding the planets and love was not about to “steer the stars”. For Mars is not the planet of love, apparently, but of war and conflict and, empowered with the expansiveness of Jupiter, it was the forceful aggression of a militaristic mind-set that actually prevailed as the “New Age” supposedly dawned. For the hippified summer of love had taken a nosedive with the tragic events at the Altamont speedway, near San Francisco in 1969, when biker gangs, enlisted to provide security for a concert performance by The Rolling Stones allegedly provoked violence, marring the event and contributing to a dawning disillusionment (for a useful coverage of the event and its historical context see Dalton). There was a lot of far-fetched poetic licence involved in this dreaming, then, but memes, according to Nikos Salingaros, are “greatly simplified versions of patterns”. “The simpler they are, the faster they can proliferate”, he writes, and the most successful memes “come with a great psychological appeal” (243, 260; emphasis mine). What could be retrieved from this inchoate idealism? Harmony and understanding Sympathy and trust abounding No more falsehoods or derisions Golden living dreams of visions Mystic crystal revelation And the mind’s true liberation Aquarius, Aquarius. (Hair) In what follows I want to focus on this notion: “mind’s true liberation” by tracing the evolution of this project of “liberating” the mind, reflected in my personal journey. Nimbin and Aquarius I had attended the first Aquarius Festival, which came together in Canberra, at the Australian National University, in the autumn of 1971. I travelled there from Perth, overland, in a Ford Transit van, among a raggedy band of tie-dyed hippie actors, styled as The Campus Guerilla Theatre Troupe, re-joining our long-lost sisters and brothers as visionary pioneers of the New Age of Aquarius. Our visions were fueled with a suitcase full of potent Sumatran “buddha sticks” and, contrary to Biblical prophesies, we tended to see—not “through a glass darkly” but—in psychedelic, pop-, and op-art explosions of colour. We could see energy, man! Two years later, I found myself at the next Aquarius event in Nimbin, too, but by that time I inhabited a totally different mind-zone, albeit one characterised by the familiar, intense idealism. In the interim, I had been arrested in 1971 while “tripping out” in Sydney on potent “acid”, or LSD (Lysergic acid diethylamide); had tried out political engagement at the Pram Factory Theatre in Melbourne; had camped out in protest at the flooding of Lake Pedder in the Tasmanian wilderness; met a young guru, started meditating, and joined “the ashram”—part of the movement known as the Divine Light Mission, which originated in India and was carried to the “West” (including Australia) by an enthusiastic and evangelical following of drug-toking drop-outs who had been swarming through India intent on escaping the dominant culture of the military-industrial complex and the horrors of the Vietnam War. Thus, by the time of the 1973 event in Nimbin, while other festival participants were foraging for “gold top” magic mushrooms in farmers’ fields, we devotees had put aside such chemical interventions in conscious awareness to dig latrines (our “service” project for the event) and we invited everyone to join us for “satsang” in the yellow, canvas-covered, geodesic dome, to attend to the message of peace. The liberation meme had shifted through a mutation that involved lifestyle-changing choices that were less about alternative approaches to sustainable agriculture and more about engaging directly with “mind’s true liberation”. Raising Consciousness What comes into focus here is the meme of “consciousness raising”, which became the persistent project within which I lived and worked and had my being for many years. Triggered initially by the ingestion of those psychedelic substances that led to my shocking encounter with the police, the project was carried forward into the more disciplined environs of my guru’s ashrams. However, before my encounter with sustained spiritual practice I had tried to work the shift within the parameters of an ostensibly political framework. “Consciousness raising” was a form of political activism borrowed from the political sphere. Originally generated by Mao Zedong in China during the revolutionary struggle to overthrow the vested colonial interests that were choking Chinese nationalism in the 1940s, to our “distant, foreign brains” (Monod), as Western revolutionary romantics, Chairman Mao and his Little Red Book were taken up, in a kind of international counterculture solidarity with revolutionaries everywhere. It must be admitted, this solidarity was a fairly superficial gesture. Back in China it might be construed as part of a crude totalitarian campaign to inculcate Marxist-Leninist political ideas among the peasant classes (see Compestine for a fictionalised account of traumatic times; Han Suyin’s long-form autobiography—an early example of testimonio as personal and political history—offers an unapologetic account of a struggle not usually construed as sympathetically by Western commentators). But the meme (and the processes) of consciousness raising were picked up by feminists in the United States in the late 1960s and into the 1970s (Brownmiller 21) and it was in this form I encountered it as an actor with the politically engaged theatre troupe, The Australian Performing Group, at Carlton’s Pram Factory Theatre in late 1971. The Performance Group I performed as a core member of the Group in 1971-72. Decisions as to which direction the Group should take were to be made as a collective, and the group veered towards anarchy. Most of the women were getting together outside of the confines of the Pram Factory to raise their consciousness within the Carlton Women’s Liberation Cell Group. While happy that the sexual revolution was reducing women’s sexual inhibitions, some of the men at the Factory were grumbling into their beer, disturbed that intimate details of their private lives—and their sexual performance—might be disclosed and raked over by a bunch of radical feminists. As they began to demand equal rights to orgasm in the bedroom, the women started to seek equal access within the performance group, too. They requested rehearsal time to stage the first production by the Women’s Theatre Group, newly formed under the umbrella of the wider collective. As all of the acknowledged writers in the Group so far were men—some of whom had not kept pace in consciousness raising—scripts tended to be viewed as part of a patriarchal plot, so Betty Can Jump was an improvised piece, with the performance material developed entirely by the cast in workshop-style rehearsals, under the direction of Kerry Dwyer (see Blundell, Zuber-Skerritt 21, plus various contributors at www.pramfactory.com/memoirsfolder/). I was the only male in the collective included in the cast. Several women would have been more comfortable if no mere male were involved at all. My gendered attitudes would scarcely have withstood a critical interrogation but, as my partner was active in launching the Women’s Electoral Lobby, I was given the benefit of the doubt. Director Kerry Dwyer liked my physicalised approach to performance (we were both inspired by the “poor theatre” of Jerzy Grotowski and the earlier surrealistic theories of Antonin Artaud), and I was cast to play all the male parts, whatever they would be. Memorable material came up in improvisation, much of which made it into the performances, but my personal favorite didn’t make the cut. It was a sprawling movement piece where I was “born” out of a symbolic mass of writhing female bodies. It was an arduous process and, after much heaving and huffing, I emerged from the birth canal stammering “SSSS … SSSS … SSMMMO-THER”! The radical reversioning of culturally authorised roles for women has inevitably, if more slowly, led to a re-thinking of the culturally approved and reinforced models of masculinity, too, once widely accepted as entirely biologically ordained rather than culturally constructed. But the possibility of a queer re-versioning of gender would be recognised only slowly. Liberation Meanwhile, Dennis Altman was emerging as an early spokesman for gay, or homosexual, liberation and he was invited to address the collective. Altman’s stirring book, Homosexual: Oppression and Liberation, had recently been published, but none of us had read it. Radical or not, the Group had shown little evidence of sensitivity to gender-queer issues. My own sexuality was very much “oppressed” rather than liberated and I would have been loath to use “queer” to describe myself. The term “homosexual” was fraught with pejorative, quasi-medical associations and, in a collective so divided across strict and sometimes hostile gender boundaries, deviant affiliations got short shrift. Dennis was unsure of his reception before this bunch of apparent “heteros”. Sitting at the rear of the meeting, I admired his courage. It took more self-acceptance than I could muster to confront the Group on this issue at the time. Somewhere in the back of my mind, “homosexuality” was still something I was supposed to “get over”, so I failed to respond to Altman’s implicit invitation to come out and join the party. The others saw me in relationship with a woman and whatever doubts they might have carried about the nature of my sexuality were tactfully suspended. Looking back, I am struck by the number of simultaneous poses I was trying to maintain: as an actor; as a practitioner of an Artaudian “theatre of cruelty”; as a politically committed activist; and as a “hetero”-sexual. My identity was an assemblage of entities posing as “I”; it was as if I were performing a self. Little gay boys are encouraged from an early age to hide their real impulses, not only from others—in the very closest circle, the family; at school; among one’s peers—but from themselves, too. The coercive effects of shaming usually fix the denial into place in our psyches before we have any intellectual (or political) resources to consider other options. Growing up trying to please, I hid my feelings. In my experience, it could be downright dangerous to resist the subtle and gross coercions that applied around gender normativity. The psychoanalyst D. W. Winnicott, of the British object-relations school, argues that when the environment does not support the developing personality and requires the person to sacrifice his or her own spontaneous needs to adapt to environmental demands, there is not even a resting-place for individual experience and the result is a failure in the primary narcissistic state to evolve an individual. The “individual” then develops as an extension of the shell rather than that of the core [...] What there is left of a core is hidden away and is difficult to find even in the most far-reaching analysis. The individual then exists by not being found. The true self is hidden, and what we have to deal with clinically is the complex false self whose function is to keep this true self hidden. (212) How to connect to that hidden core, then? “Mind’s true liberation...” Alienated from the performative version of selfhood, but still inspired by the promise of liberation, even in the “fuzzy” form for which my inchoate hunger yearned (sexual liberation? political liberation? mystical liberation?), I was left to seek out a more authentic basis for selfhood, one that didn’t send me spinning along the roller-coaster of psychedelic drugs, or lie to me with the nostrums of a toxic, most forms of which would deny me, as a sexual, moral and legal pariah, the comforts of those “anchorage points to the social matrix” identified by Soddy (cited in Mol 58). My spiritual inquiry was “counter” to these institutionalised models of religious culture. So, I began to read my way through a myriad of books on comparative religion. And to my surprise, rather than taking up with the religions of antique cultures, instead I encountered a very young guru, initially as presented in a simply drawn poster in the window of Melbourne’s only vegetarian restaurant (Shakahari, in Carlton). “Are you hungry and tired of reading recipe books?” asked the figure in the poster. I had little sense of where that hunger would lead me, but it seemed to promise a fulfilment in ways that the fractious politics of the APG offered little nourishment. So, while many of my peers in the cities chose to pursue direct political action, and others experimented with cooperative living in rural communes, I chose the communal lifestyle of the ashram. In these different forms, then, the conscious raising meme persisted when other challenges raised by the counterculture either faded or were absorbed in the mainstream. I finally came to realise that the intense disillusionment process I had been through (“dis-illusionment” as the stripping away of illusions) was the beginning of awakening, in effect a “spiritual initiation” into a new way of seeing myself and my “place” in the world. Buddhist teachers might encourage this very kind of stripping away of false notions as part of their teaching, so the aspiration towards the “true liberation” of the mind expressed in the Aquarian visioning might be—and in my case, actually has been and continues to be—fulfilled to a very real extent. Gurus and the entire turn towards Eastern mysticism were part of the New Age meme cluster prevailing during the early 1970s, but I was fortunate to connect with an enduring set of empirical practices that haven’t faded with the fashions of the counterculture. A good guitarist would never want to play in public without first tuning her instrument. In a similar way, it is now possible for me to tune my mind back to a deeper, more original source of being than the socially constructed sense of self, which had been so fraught with conflicts for me. I have discovered that before gender, and before sexuality, in fact, pulsing away behind the thicket of everyday associations, there is an original, unconditioned state of beingness, the awareness of which can be reclaimed through focused meditation practices, tested in a wide variety of “real world” settings. For quite a significant period of time I worked as an instructor in the method on behalf of my guru, or mentor, travelling through a dozen or so countries, and it was through this exposure that I was able to observe that the practices worked independently of culture and that “mind’s true liberation” was in many ways a de-programming of cultural indoctrinations (see Marsh, 2014, 2013, 2011 and 2007 for testimony of this process). In Japan, Zen roshi might challenge their students with the koan: “Show me your original face, before you were born!” While that might seem to be an absurd proposal, I am finding that there is a potential, if unexpected, liberation in following through such an inquiry. As “hokey” as the Aquarian meme-set might have been, it was a reflection of the idealistic hope that characterised the cluster of memes that aggregated within the counterculture, a yearning for healthier life choices than those offered by the toxicity of the military-industrial complex, the grossly exploitative effects of rampant Capitalism and a politics of cynicism and domination. The meme of the “true liberation” of the mind, then, promised by the heady lyrics of a 1970s hippie musical, has continued to bear fruit in ways that I could not have imagined. References Altman, Dennis. Homosexual Oppression and Liberation. Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1972. Blundell, Graeme. The Naked Truth: A Life in Parts. Sydney: Hachette, 2011. Brownmiller, Susan. In Our Time: Memoir of a Revolution. New York: The Dial Press, 1999. Compestine, Ying Chang. Revolution Is Not a Dinner Party. New York: Square Fish, 2009. Dalton, David. “Altamont: End of the Sixties, Or Big Mix-Up in the Middle of Nowhere?” Gadfly Nov/Dec 1999. April 2014 ‹http://www.gadflyonline.com/archive/NovDec99/archive-altamont.html›. Dawkins, Richard. The Selfish Gene. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1976. Elbaum, Max. Revolution in the Air: Sixties Radicals Turn to Lenin, Mao and Che. London and New York: Verso, 2002. Ferguson, Marilyn. The Aquarian Conspiracy. Los Angeles: Tarcher Putnam, 1980. Gleick, James. “What Defines a Meme?” Smithsonian Magazine 2011. April 2014 ‹http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/What-Defines-a Meme.html›. Hair, The American Tribal Love Rock Musical. Prod. Michael Butler. Book by Gerome Ragni and James Rado; Lyrics by Gerome Ragni and James Rado; Music by Galt MacDermot; Musical Director: Galt MacDermot. 1968. Han, Suyin. The Crippled Tree. 1965. Reprinted. Chicago: Academy Chicago P, 1985. ---. A Mortal Flower. 1966. Reprinted. Chicago: Academy Chicago P, 1985. ---. Birdless Summer. 1968. Reprinted. Chicago: Academy Chicago P, 1985. ---. The Morning Deluge: Mao TseTung and the Chinese Revolution 1893-1954. Boston: Little Brown, 1972. ---. My House Has Two Doors. New York: Putnam, 1980. Marsh, Victor. The Boy in the Yellow Dress. Melbourne: Clouds of Magellan Press, 2014. ---. “A Touch of Silk: A (Post)modern Faerie Tale.” Griffith Review 42: Once Upon a Time in Oz (Oct. 2013): 159-69. ---. “Bent Kid, Straight World: Life Writing and the Reconfiguration of ‘Queer’.” TEXT: Journal of Writing and Writing Courses 15.1 (April 2011). ‹http://www.textjournal.com.au/april11/marsh.htm›. ---. “The Boy in the Yellow Dress: Re-framing Subjectivity in Narrativisations of the Queer Self.“ Life Writing 4.2 (Oct. 2007): 263-286. Mol, Hans. Identity and the Sacred: A Sketch for a New Social-Scientific Theory of Religion. Oxford: Blackwell, 1976. Monod, Jacques. Chance and Necessity: An Essay on the Natural Philosophy of Modern Biology. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1970. Roszak, Theodore. The Making of a Counter Culture: Reflections on the Technocratic Society and Its Youthful Opposition. New York: Doubleday, 1968. Salingaros, Nikos. Theory of Architecture. Solingen: Umbau-Verlag, 2006. Stancil, E.D., and M.D. Johnson. Frisbee: A Practitioner’s Manual and Definitive Treatise. New York: Workman, 1975 Winnicott, D.W. Through Paediatrics to Psycho-Analysis: Collected Papers. 1958. London: Hogarth Press, 1975. Yúdice, George. “Testimonio and Postmodernism.” Latin American Perspectives 18.3 (1991): 15-31. Zimmerman, Marc. “Testimonio.” The Sage Encyclopedia of Social Science Research Methods. Eds. Michael S. Lewis-Beck, Alan Bryman and Tim Futing Liao. London: Sage Publications, 2003. Zuber-Skerritt, Ortrun, ed. Australian Playwrights: David Williamson. Amsterdam: Rodolpi, 1988.

Data desire flows through protest in the Anthropocene. Citizen science, participation in online discussion forums, documentary film production, protest selfies, glacier recession GPS photography, poster making, etc., are just some of the everyday data proliferation efforts comprising resistance to environmental degradation and destruction. These practices – visualisation, datafication, writing, sign making, archiving geological memory, etc., are, I want to argue, produced pleasurably, especially as modes of emerging as ‘subjects’ in relation to the chaos, chaotic affects, and unprecedented pace of destructive ecological events that these practices try to grasp or ‘make sense of.’ Pleasures of data production are hence closely correlated to emerging as a subject within the Anthropocene. Such pleasures function beyond individual emotion, and in relation to subjectification within chaotic events such as climate change. In this article I propose the concept data desire to map out how ‘data’ and ‘subjectivity’ co-emerge in relation to material forces and how people take pleasure in their subjectification through ‘knowing,’ datafying, and creating ‘meaning’ out of material events which are chaotic or have chaotic affects (Guattari). I take up contrasting terms of ‘pleasure’ and ‘desire’, drawing on the thought of Gilles Deleuze ("Desire"; Essays), for whom pleasure is associated with a craving of individuation in light of chaos while desire speaks to the unlimited postponement of events from being summarised. One such event, and the event I focus on in this article, is oil. Here, I think of the event, not as ‘a moment’ or a ‘happening,’ but as that which has many iterations, instances, and bifurcations, and is often distributed in space and time (Deleuze, The Fold). I draw on my fieldwork in media practices of people taking part in the oil pipeline protests in British Columbia, Canada. I give examples of three data practices, and articulate the relation between media production, generation of ‘data’ and the production of subjectivity within the Anthropocene. These practices include data generation through participation in online news’ comment forums, data created as part of citizen science, and resistance ‘selfies’ or producing oneself as data to be circulated on social media. My analysis diverts from any interest in the representational function of media, towards how pleasures of data practices and the circulation of desire that these are a part of emerge, for many people, as the only ways of becoming subjectified in catastrophic environmental events.Pleasure and desire may not be the most obvious terms to think of when one thinks of resistance, particularly against environmental degradation. While pleasure has been an important aspect of activism, social movements, and feminist politics (e.g. Goodwin, Jasper, and Polletta; Sharpe), it has only recently been engaged with in relation to environmental activism, particularly by Craig, and Alaimo. Alaimo defines pleasure as an important aspects of material engagements and more-than-human ontologies marked by connection and kinship characterised by delight. Craig also calls for the recognition that pleasure is central to the everyday lived resistance found in environmental movements such as the slow food movement and urban farming that are anti-consumerist in orientation. These examples mark pleasure as part of the politics of resistance where the emotion emerges from the belief in a harmonious and symbiotic relationship to ‘nature’ and non-human matter through human emotion. Pleasure however, as I intend to show, can also be thought of beyond the individuating ‘emotion’ and as part of larger flows of desire, where ‘desire’ is conceptualised as vitality and ‘ongoing production’ (Deleuze & Guattari, Anti-Oedipus). Particularly, my focus on pleasure intends to problematise how pleasure through data production emerges perhaps as a mode of ongoing ‘coping’ of ‘navigating’ or of simply ‘trying to be a part of’ or attain some sensation of ‘agency’ amongst ecological catastrophes when being political are deemed to be ineffective or even futile.Data and Desiring-ProductionI propose ‘data desire’ as a concept for thinking about the ongoing social production of subjectivity through data production in the context of the failure of representation in the Anthropocene. Gilles Deleuze ("Desire") argued that pleasure is an individualised emotion related to failures of representation: “pleasure seems to me to be the only means for a person or a subject to ‘find themselves again’ in a process which overwhelms them” ("Desire", n.p.). Such an emotion is one of the outputs of a flow of desire that is non-individual, and not only human.Desiring production “causes the current to flow” (Deleuze and Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, 5) between the event of oil and the production of subjectivity, both which propagate and bifurcate, and are continuously produced anew. Desire is characterised by vitality, or the unceasing capacity of processes to continuously become difference, to continuously change, rather than ‘arrive’, ‘conclude’, or ‘be.’ In other words, to think with ‘desire’ is to note how production flows, like a current, through ‘overwhelming’ events that including oil, and through subjectification, both of which continuously emerge in new contortions and produce new affects. The pleasure that emerges through a subject being produced, or a subject ‘coming into being’ by way of producing data – summarising, visualising, representing, and trying to give ‘meaning’ to ‘the event’ – is affected by the ongoing ability of ‘the event’ to multiply and be postponed from being summarised, as it proliferates and reproduces itself in ever new human and non-human bifurcations – oil spills and leaks, protests, policies, bitumen, new movements, new rhetoric, new sanctions, new pipelines, etc.Malins for instance notes how desireis not that which a pre-existing subject has for something, nor is it motivated by individual lack or the pursuit of pleasure. It is instead best understood as a pre-subjective, pre-conscious life force or energy that flows between bodies, connecting, animating and transforming them. (2)Data desire is therefore most importantly not a feeling that emerges out of a lack of data, or a desire for data. Rather data desires suggests that data practices become modalities through which people involved in environmental resistance can continuously ‘sense’ themselves as part of the event, or gain the sensation that they ‘are’ political, even if only as a sensation and only if momentarily, and within catastrophic events that are also always changing and defy representation. Events such as oil hence require analysis of the entanglement or multiple ways in which processes of subjectification, ecology, and media practices are in themselves multiple and folded together in multiple ways, something Guattari called the three ecologies, and more recently, Murphie referred to as a catastrophic multiplicity. This orientation towards desire as production positions the analysis of the pleasure of data practices beyond that of an individual into the realm of social production.Data Desire Fieldwork in the Oil-EventMy fieldwork focussed on the data practices of residents living in oil pipeline conflicts in British Columbia. This research included examining the media practices and everyday data engagements of residents engaging with and concerned about two oil pipeline projects: Enbridge’s Northern Gateway Pipeline, which would move crude oil from Edmonton and terminate in Kitimat in Northern British Columbia, and Kinder Morgan’s Trans Mountain oil pipeline that also would move crude oil from the Alberta tar sands to Burnaby, British Columbia. This later pipeline already exists, although the proposed project aimed at twinning of the oil pipeline would substantially increase oil tanker traffic along the West Coast and generate new risk of oil spills, given its increased capacity. As part of my research I spoke with a total of twenty-four (24) residents, and six (6) environmental non-governmental organisations (ENGOs) in Northern British Columbia and the Vancouver Metro Area to examine their media practices, digital strategies and other, everyday data practices in the oil pipeline conflict.Against the backdrop of an uptake in big data’s relation to ecological transformation (e.g.: Ruiz; Hogan; Maddalena & Russill), I found the displays of pleasure accompanying individuals’ ostensibly everyday ‘small data’ productions as enunciations of subjectivity and resistance in the oil pipeline movement, under-examined and intriguing. Oil pipeline resistance can be charted along affective lines of pleasure associated with data practices, as people living in oil pipeline conflicts find themselves amidst an ever-expanding flurry of directions and affects that oil takes on: #NoDAPL, the Kalamazoo oil spill, the Conservative party leadership, Indigenous law suit claims, hypocrisy rhetoric, oil pipeline decisions approved, challenged, and deferred at municipal and federal levels. Oil is hence not only a substance but an event that continues to swirl off in new directions, and encompasses and also connects with a multitude of other events, such as urbanisation, 300,000 airplanes taking off and landing on a daily basis, peak oil, and animal extinction. I therefore consider ‘events’ not as ‘happenings’ or singular image events (DeLuca; DeLuca & Peeples; McHendry; Yang) in the way they are often conceptualised within environmental communication literature, but as something that is ongoing, and often extensive beyond a single time and space. Image events may be one of the expressions of a broader and larger (conceptualised as having multiple expressions) event taking place. This section provides three examples of pleasures of emerging as subjects through data practices as political resistance to oil. These include contributing to discussions in online forums, engaging in citizen science, and proliferation of photos of authentic ‘non/environmentalists’ faces on social media.The first example of subjects emerging through practices of data desire is the production of online data, especially in online political forums or online news comments sections. Here, we might envision the pleasure of data production, in the form of writing online comments, as correlating to the individual wish to ‘count’, particularly as ‘individuals’ are seen to be peripheral to geological forces and capitalist machines of oil production, as well as to the processes of decision making, lawsuits, and municipal and regional politics. One example from this study demonstrates how residents living in oil pipeline conflict areas take pleasure in consuming and producing data. The excerpt below comes from a conversation I had with a resident living in and resisting the Trans Mountain oil pipeline expansion in the Vancouver Metro Area. This resident, an avid canoer and computer programmer in his thirties, showed immense pleasure in generating data in the form of contributing to news comments sections. Below I treat the participant’s talk not as an ‘account’ in the positivist sense in which ‘interview data’ might be taken to represent ‘participants’ voices.’ Rather, I treat such expression as a flow of desire that flows through individuals, often constituting them as subjects.I love discussing these issues. I love identifying what is not necessarily of paramount concern as opposed to what is. I have a lot of conversations. I have friends involved in policy. And I read. I’ve got news alerts coming my way from—you know, I must have about twelve Google alerts coming up just regarding pipeline issues and environmental issues. It’s become such a passion for me that I almost was sad once I felt it was finally defeated. I would get up in the morning and hop on the computer to read the latest articles and, you know, respond to comments and stuff. Often what I’m more interested in than the news article is the comments because it tells me where the Overton window is at any given time. I mentioned that some people attend rallies and stuff, well I post to the comments sections and I have conversations all the time online.As seen in this excerpt, pleasure/the subject emerge simultaneously through projects of comprehension and expression. The excerpt shows how contributions to conversations are ‘productive’ not in terms of any kind of political outcome, but in terms of a sensation of emerging/becoming subjectified in the event. Pleasure manifests within projects related to constituting subjectivity by not only consuming data, but also contributing to its ongoing production. In other words, this resident living in an oil conflict area found pleasure in calculating the Overton Window of online news comments about the oil pipeline, as well as in being constituted within the event as a political ‘subject’ by producing ‘data’. His becoming ‘subject’ was concurrent to a sensation of being able to ‘summarise’ the event and its articulations under ‘a unity’ and giving some ‘meaning’ to the constantly shifting event of ‘oil’. While both ‘the subject’ and ‘oil’ keep being produced anew, the momentary emotion of ‘pleasure’ functions to give a sensation of albeit temporary coherence. Here, as Deleuze and Guattari (A Thousand Plateaus) argue pleasure is “an affection of a person or a subject, a way for people to ‘find themselves’ in the process of desire that exceeds them” (156). This ‘excess’ characterises the evasiveness of ecological events and objects from being ever truly graspable, comprehensible, represented, or even ‘known’ to humans. de Freitas for instance notes how matter is already mathematically monstrous, quite literally multiplying, and evasive in its capacity to be ‘calculated’ (3). Input through online comments are therefore attempts at contribution to calculations, ‘making sense’, and also to feeling ‘counted’, attempts which in themselves amount to a great pleasure.The second example of subjects emerging through practices of data desire involves citizen science as a mode of data generation. Practices such as citizen science became pleasurable activities of subjective enunciations – practices of a ‘subject’ coming into being against, or within, this chaos, through data generation. Citizen science is a prime example of residents living in oil pipeline conflicts becoming enunciated – pleasurably – as subjects in the oil pipeline conflict in BC. Citizen science, for example, can take many forms. Streamkeeping, the act of taking care of local streams, is a key form of citizen science in areas facing oil pipeline conflicts, particularly as it puts data practices front and centre as part of resistance. While streamkeeping has many aspects to it, including stream clean-ups, a key component is the production of data about ecosystems health, which including wading into water to count fish, measure construction runoff such as silt, gravel, and sediment, and create comparative archives. Measuring, noting salmon counts, documenting debris emerged as pleasurable ways of engaging in pipeline politics–emerging as a subject, by way of somehow trying to datafy the oil-event, by making it ‘meaningful.’Data production functions to mathematically calculate a course of action within a concoction of persuasive efforts of oil pipeline corporations, environmental non-governmental organisations, governments, activist, and neighbours to define what ‘political subjectification’ might look like. Science is in perpetual struggle against chaos (Deleuze and Guattari, What Is Philosophy?) and data generation through grass-roots citizen science becomes a tool, or an instillation of data about a changing biome through which to encounter oil, and through which to emerge as a subject in relation to oil. Production of data as part of ‘citizen science’ also functions as a way through which to assert ‘independence’ and stage some resistance within a multiplicity of other ways in which oil becomes a reason of various attempts to define ‘political subjectivity’, such as ENGO campaigns, government statements about the ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ process to show resistance to the oil pipelines, and the branding of environmentalists as ecoterrorists. Perhaps data production becomes a way to effectively fold oneself into the oil event, without needing to confront a lack of other ways one could, or might resist oil pipeline development.The third example of the circulation of data desire are the increasingly common expressions of individuated pleasures associated with showing ‘faces’ of people engaged in environmentalist issues like oil pipelines, on various social media feeds that try to portray ‘real’ political subjects, in contrast to stereotypical representations of ‘activists’ or ‘environmentalists.’ Here I am specifically talking about selfies taken at environmental protests. Such productions of images of ‘authentic’ political subjects within oil movements has been a popular way to demonstrate authenticity of resistance efforts within environmental movements, particularly in relation to a struggle against accusations of hypocrisy fed by oil pipeline corporations and pundits (Piotrowski). Given the numerous social media feeds of environmental anti-oil pipeline groups that attempt to show ‘faces’ of ‘real’ political subjects, these depictions attempt to produce subjectivities, particularly with the intensifying circulation of what might be thought of as “faciality enactments” (Piotrowski, 849). Here, ‘faces’ are generated as ‘data’. The continuous production of faces/data becomes what counts, or matters, within resistance, as a way of continuously reproducing environmentalist subjectivity, particularly at a point of ‘crisis’ of environmentalist group identity. Such micro-productions and pleasures of individual faces on social media feeds or Instagram posts, are part of flows of data desire: the desire of individuals to emerge as subjects within a multitude of stereotypes about environmentalism; the desire for environmentalism to assert itself as meaningful within ecological events such as ‘oil’, and the desire of corporations to assert different rhetorics about both oil and environmentalism itself.To close, I have articulated that a subject – a subject that takes part in ‘their’ resistance to ecological degradation – is a residual one, the product of a circulating flow of pre-personal data desire. This data desire exceeds individual pleasures and undulates between the chaotic event of oil, its continuously shifting political, economic, and social affects, and ‘a subject’ also continuously trying to be enunciated and ‘individuated’ in the event. Satisfaction, or pleasure, becomes the individual expression of a larger circuit of circulating desires which shows the flows of data between the expressions of material and ecological events which generate all sorts of breakdowns in meaning about ‘the human’ and the Anthropocene, and between breakdowns of activist’ subjectivity. Desire functions as a mode of inquiry that moves thinking about pleasure beyond individuals’ emotions of ‘their’ craving for individuation and meaning within the chaos of the Anthropocene and in the anti-oil pipeline resistance. Rather than see data production as a response to a lack of information, I have shown how data desire, as a concept, can help to think about ontological production, or the production of subjects. This ontological production refers both to the event’s capacity to become continuously different and unforeseen, and the subject’s ongoing self-production through data practices. Three examples discussed here – participation in online news comments sections, citizen science, and production of activism selfies are just but some of the media practices that are part of the circulation of data desire, though there are undoubtedly more.ReferencesAlaimo, Stacy. Exposed: Environmental Politics and Pleasures in Posthuman Times. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 2016.Craig, Geoffrey. “Political Participation and Pleasure in Green Lifestyle Journalism.” Environmental Communication 10.1 (2016): 122–141.Deleuze, Gilles. The Fold: Leibniz and the Baroque. New York, NY: Continuum, 1993.———. Essays Critical and Clinical. Minneapolis, MN. 1997.———. “Desire & Pleasure.” Trans. M. McMahon. Unpaginated. 1997. 1 Aug. 2018 <http://www. artdes.monash.edu.au/globe/delfou.html>. Originally published as "Désir et Plaisir" in Magazine Littéraire 325 (Oct. 1994): 59–65.———, and Felix Guattari. Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Trans. R. Hurley, M. Seem, and H.R. Lane. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1983 [1972].———, and Felix Guattari. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Trans. B. Massumi. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1987 [1980].———, and Felix Guattari. What Is Philosophy? Trans. H. Tomlinson and G. Burchell. New York, NY: Columbia UP, 1994.DeLuca, Kevin. Image Politics: The New Rhetoric of Environmental Activism. New York, NY: The Guilford P, 1999.———, and Jennifer Peeples. “From Public Sphere to Public Screen: Democracy, Activism, and the ‘Violence’ of Seattle.” Critical Studies in Media Communication 19.2 (2002): 125–151.Goodwin, Jeff, James M. Jasper, and Francesca Polletta, eds. Passionate Politics: Emotions and Social Movements. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2009.Guattari, Felix. Chaosmosis: An Ethico-Aesthetic Paradigm. Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana UP, 1995.———. The Three Ecologies. London: Athlone P, 2000.Malins, Peta. “Desiring Assemblages: A Case for Desire over Pleasure in Critical Drug Studies.” International Journal of Drug Policy 49 (Nov. 2017): 126–132.McHendry, George. F. “Whale Wars and the Axiomatization of Image Events on the Public Screen.” Environmental Communication: A Journal of Nature and Culture 6.2 (2012): 139–155.Murphie, Andrew. “On Being Affected: Feeling in the Folding of Multiple Catastrophes.” Cultural Studies 32.1 (2018): 18–42.Piotrowski, Marcelina. “‘Authentic’ Folds: Environmental Audiences, Activists and Subjectification in Hypocrisy Micropolitics.” Continuum 31.6 (2017): 844–856.Sharpe, Erin K. “Festivals and Social Change: Intersections of Pleasure and Politics at a Community Music Festival.” Leisure Sciences 30.3 (2008): 217-234.Yang, Fan. “Under the Dome: ‘Chinese’ Smog as a Viral Media Event.” Critical Studies in Media Communication 33.3 (2016): 232–244.

From elephants to ABBA fans, silicon to hormone, the following discussion uses a new research method to look at printed text, motion pictures and a teenage rebel icon. If by ‘print’ we mean a mechanically reproduced impression of a cultural symbol in a medium, then printing has been with us since before microdot security prints were painted onto cars, before voice prints, laser prints, network servers, record pressings, motion picture prints, photo prints, colour woodblock prints, before books, textile prints, and footprints. If we accept that higher mammals such as elephants have a learnt culture, then it is possible to extend a definition of printing beyond Homo sapiens. Poole reports that elephants mechanically trumpet reproductions of human car horns into the air surrounding their society. If nothing else, this cross-species, cross-cultural reproduction, this ‘ability to mimic’ is ‘another sign of their intelligence’. Observation of child development suggests that the first significant meaningful ‘impression’ made on the human mind is that of the face of the child’s nurturer – usually its mother. The baby’s mind forms an ‘impression’, a mental print, a reproducible memory data set, of the nurturer’s face, voice, smell, touch, etc. That face is itself a cultural construct: hair style, makeup, piercings, tattoos, ornaments, nutrition-influenced skin and smell, perfume, temperature and voice. A mentally reproducible pattern of a unique face is formed in the mind, and we use that pattern to distinguish ‘familiar and strange’ in our expanding social orbit. The social relations of patterned memory – of imprinting – determine the extent to which we explore our world (armed with research aids such as text print) or whether we turn to violence or self-harm (Bretherton). While our cultural artifacts (such as vellum maps or networked voice message servers) bravely extend our significant patterns into the social world and the traversed environment, it is useful to remember that such artifacts, including print, are themselves understood by our original pattern-reproduction and impression system – the human mind, developed in childhood. The ‘print’ is brought to mind differently in different discourses. For a reader, a ‘print’ is a book, a memo or a broadsheet, whether it is the Indian Buddhist Sanskrit texts ordered to be printed in 593 AD by the Chinese emperor Sui Wen-ti (Silk Road) or the US Defense Department memo authorizing lower ranks to torture the prisoners taken by the Bush administration (Sanchez, cited in ABC). Other fields see prints differently. For a musician, a ‘print’ may be the sheet music which spread classical and popular music around the world; it may be a ‘record’ (as in a ‘recording’ session), where sound is impressed to wax, vinyl, charged silicon particles, or the alloys (Smith, “Elpida”) of an mp3 file. For the fine artist, a ‘print’ may be any mechanically reproduced two-dimensional (or embossed) impression of a significant image in media from paper to metal, textile to ceramics. ‘Print’ embraces the Japanese Ukiyo-e colour prints of Utamaro, the company logos that wink from credit card holographs, the early photographs of Talbot, and the textured patterns printed into neolithic ceramics. Computer hardware engineers print computational circuits. Homicide detectives investigate both sweaty finger prints and the repeated, mechanical gaits of suspects, which are imprinted into the earthy medium of a crime scene. For film makers, the ‘print’ may refer to a photochemical polyester reproduction of a motion picture artifact (the reel of ‘celluloid’), or a DVD laser disc impression of the same film. Textualist discourse has borrowed the word ‘print’ to mean ‘text’, so ‘print’ may also refer to the text elements within the vision track of a motion picture: the film’s opening titles, or texts photographed inside the motion picture story such as the sword-cut ‘Z’ in Zorro (Niblo). Before the invention of writing, the main mechanically reproduced impression of a cultural symbol in a medium was the humble footprint in the sand. The footprints of tribes – and neighbouring animals – cut tracks in the vegetation and the soil. Printed tracks led towards food, water, shelter, enemies and friends. Having learnt to pattern certain faces into their mental world, children grew older and were educated in the footprints of family and clan, enemies and food. The continuous impression of significant foot traffic in the medium of the earth produced the lines between significant nodes of prewriting and pre-wheeled cultures. These tracks were married to audio tracks, such as the song lines of the Australian Aborigines, or the ballads of tramping culture everywhere. A typical tramping song has the line, ‘There’s a track winding back to an old-fashion shack along the road to Gundagai,’ (O’Hagan), although this colonial-style song was actually written for radio and became an international hit on the airwaves, rather than the tramping trails. The printed tracks impressed by these cultural flows are highly contested and diverse, and their foot prints are woven into our very language. The names for printed tracks have entered our shared memory from the intersection of many cultures: ‘Track’ is a Germanic word entering English usage comparatively late (1470) and now used mainly in audio visual cultural reproduction, as in ‘soundtrack’. ‘Trek’ is a Dutch word for ‘track’ now used mainly by ecotourists and science fiction fans. ‘Learn’ is a Proto-Indo-European word: the verb ‘learn’ originally meant ‘to find a track’ back in the days when ‘learn’ had a noun form which meant ‘the sole of the foot’. ‘Tract’ and ‘trace’ are Latin words entering English print usage before 1374 and now used mainly in religious, and electronic surveillance, cultural reproduction. ‘Trench’ in 1386 was a French path cut through a forest. ‘Sagacity’ in English print in 1548 was originally the ability to track or hunt, in Proto-Indo-European cultures. ‘Career’ (in English before 1534) was the print made by chariots in ancient Rome. ‘Sleuth’ (1200) was a Norse noun for a track. ‘Investigation’ (1436) was Latin for studying a footprint (Harper). The arrival of symbolic writing scratched on caves, hearth stones, and trees (the original meaning of ‘book’ is tree), brought extremely limited text education close to home. Then, with baked clay tablets, incised boards, slate, bamboo, tortoise shell, cast metal, bark cloth, textiles, vellum, and – later – paper, a portability came to text that allowed any culture to venture away from known ‘foot’ paths with a reduction in the risk of becoming lost and perishing. So began the world of maps, memos, bills of sale, philosophic treatises and epic mythologies. Some of this was printed, such as the mechanical reproduction of coins, but the fine handwriting required of long, extended, portable texts could not be printed until the invention of paper in China about 2000 years ago. Compared to lithic architecture and genes, portable text is a fragile medium, and little survives from the millennia of its innovators. The printing of large non-text designs onto bark-paper and textiles began in neolithic times, but Sui Wen-ti’s imperial memo of 593 AD gives us the earliest written date for printed books, although we can assume they had been published for many years previously. The printed book was a combination of Indian philosophic thought, wood carving, ink chemistry and Chinese paper. The earliest surviving fragment of paper-print technology is ‘Mantras of the Dharani Sutra’, a Buddhist scripture written in the Sanskrit language of the Indian subcontinent, unearthed at an early Tang Dynasty site in Xian, China – making the fragment a veteran piece of printing, in the sense that Sanskrit books had been in print for at least a century by the early Tang Dynasty (Chinese Graphic Arts Net). At first, paper books were printed with page-size carved wooden boards. Five hundred years later, Pi Sheng (c.1041) baked individual reusable ceramic characters in a fire and invented the durable moveable type of modern printing (Silk Road 2000). Abandoning carved wooden tablets, the ‘digitizing’ of Chinese moveable type sped up the production of printed texts. In turn, Pi Sheng’s flexible, rapid, sustainable printing process expanded the political-cultural impact of the literati in Asian society. Digitized block text on paper produced a bureaucratic, literate elite so powerful in Asia that Louis XVI of France copied China’s print-based Confucian system of political authority for his own empire, and so began the rise of the examined public university systems, and the civil service systems, of most European states (Watson, Visions). By reason of its durability, its rapid mechanical reproduction, its culturally agreed signs, literate readership, revered authorship, shared ideology, and distributed portability, a ‘print’ can be a powerful cultural network which builds and expands empires. But print also attacks and destroys empires. A case in point is the Spanish conquest of Aztec America: The Aztecs had immense libraries of American literature on bark-cloth scrolls, a technology which predated paper. These libraries were wiped out by the invading Spanish, who carried a different book before them (Ewins). In the industrial age, the printing press and the gun were seen as the weapons of rebellions everywhere. In 1776, American rebels staffed their ‘Homeland Security’ units with paper makers, knowing that defeating the English would be based on printed and written documents (Hahn). Mao Zedong was a book librarian; Mao said political power came out of the barrel of a gun, but Mao himself came out of a library. With the spread of wireless networked servers, political ferment comes out of the barrel of the cell phone and the internet chat room these days. Witness the cell phone displays of a plane hitting a tower that appear immediately after 9/11 in the Middle East, or witness the show trials of a few US and UK lower ranks who published prints of their torturing activities onto the internet: only lower ranks who published prints were arrested or tried. The control of secure servers and satellites is the new press. These days, we live in a global library of burning books – ‘burning’ in the sense that ‘print’ is now a charged silicon medium (Smith, “Intel”) which is usually made readable by connecting the chip to nuclear reactors and petrochemically-fired power stations. World resources burn as we read our screens. Men, women, children burn too, as we watch our infotainment news in comfort while ‘their’ flickering dead faces are printed in our broadcast hearths. The print we watch is not the living; it is the voodoo of the living in the blackout behind the camera, engaging the blood sacrifice of the tormented and the unfortunate. Internet texts are also ‘on fire’ in the third sense of their fragility and instability as a medium: data bases regularly ‘print’ fail-safe copies in an attempt to postpone the inevitable mechanical, chemical and electrical failure that awaits all electronic media in time. Print defines a moral position for everyone. In reporting conflict, in deciding to go to press or censor, any ‘print’ cannot avoid an ethical context, starting with the fact that there is a difference in power between print maker, armed perpetrators, the weak, the peaceful, the publisher, and the viewer. So many human factors attend a text, video or voice ‘print’: its very existence as an aesthetic object, even before publication and reception, speaks of unbalanced, and therefore dynamic, power relationships. For example, Graham Greene departed unscathed from all the highly dangerous battlefields he entered as a novelist: Riot-torn Germany, London Blitz, Belgian Congo, Voodoo Haiti, Vietnam, Panama, Reagan’s Washington, and mafia Europe. His texts are peopled with the injustices of the less fortunate of the twentieth century, while he himself was a member of the fortunate (if not happy) elite, as is anyone today who has the luxury of time to read Greene’s works for pleasure. Ethically a member of London and Paris’ colonizers, Greene’s best writing still electrifies, perhaps partly because he was in the same line of fire as the victims he shared bread with. In fact, Greene hoped daily that he would escape from the dreadful conflicts he fictionalized via a body bag or an urn of ashes (see Sherry). In reading an author’s biography we have one window on the ethical dimensions of authority and print. If a print’s aesthetics are sometimes enduring, its ethical relationships are always mutable. Take the stylized logo of a running athlete: four limbs bent in a rotation of action. This dynamic icon has symbolized ‘good health’ in Hindu and Buddhist culture, from Madras to Tokyo, for thousands of years. The cross of bent limbs was borrowed for the militarized health programs of 1930s Germany, and, because of what was only a brief, recent, isolated yet monstrously horrific segment of its history in print, the bent-limbed swastika is now a vilified symbol in the West. The sign remains ‘impressed’ differently on traditional Eastern culture, and without the taint of Nazism. Dramatic prints are emotionally charged because, in depicting Homo sapiens in danger, or passionately in love, they elicit a hormonal reaction from the reader, the viewer, or the audience. The type of emotions triggered by a print vary across the whole gamut of human chemistry. A recent study of three genres of motion picture prints shows a marked differences in the hormonal responses of men compared to women when viewing a romance, an actioner, and a documentary (see Schultheiss, Wirth, and Stanton). Society is biochemically diverse in its engagement with printed culture, which raises questions about equality in the arts. Motion picture prints probably comprise around one third of internet traffic, in the form of stolen digitized movie files pirated across the globe via peer-to-peer file transfer networks (p2p), and burnt as DVD laser prints (BBC). There is also a US 40 billion dollar per annum legitimate commerce in DVD laser pressings (Grassl), which would suggest an US 80 billion per annum world total in legitimate laser disc print culture. The actively screen literate, or the ‘sliterati’ as I prefer to call them, research this world of motion picture prints via their peers, their internet information channels, their television programming, and their web forums. Most of this activity occurs outside the ambit of universities and schools. One large site of sliterate (screen literate) practice outside most schooling and official research is the net of online forums at imdb.com (International Movie Data Base). Imdb.com ‘prints’ about 25,000,000 top pages per month to client browsers. Hundreds of sliterati forums are located at imdb, including a forum for the Australian movie, Muriel’s Wedding (Hogan). Ten years after the release of Muriel’s Wedding, young people who are concerned with victimization and bullying still log on to http://us.imdb.com/title/tt0110598/board/> and put their thoughts into print: I still feel so bad for Muriel in the beginning of the movie, when the girls ‘dump’ her, and how much the poor girl cried and cried! Those girls were such biartches…I love how they got their comeuppance! bunniesormaybemidgets’s comment is typical of the current discussion. Muriel’s Wedding was a very popular film in its first cinema edition in Australia and elsewhere. About 30% of the entire over-14 Australian population went to see this photochemical polyester print in the cinemas on its first release. A decade on, the distributors printed a DVD laser disc edition. The story concerns Muriel (played by Toni Collette), the unemployed daughter of a corrupt, ‘police state’ politician. Muriel is bullied by her peers and she withdraws into a fantasy world, deluding herself that a white wedding will rescue her from the torments of her blighted life. Through theft and deceit (the modus operandi of her father) Muriel escapes to the entertainment industry and finds a ‘wicked’ girlfriend mentor. From a rebellious position of stubborn independence, Muriel plays out her fantasy. She gets her white wedding, before seeing both her father and her new married life as hollow shams which have goaded her abandoned mother to suicide. Redefining her life as a ‘game’ and assuming responsibility for her independence, Muriel turns her back on the mainstream, image-conscious, female gang of her oppressed youth. Muriel leaves the story, having rekindled her friendship with her rebel mentor. My methodological approach to viewing the laser disc print was to first make a more accessible, coded record of the entire movie. I was able to code and record the print in real time, using a new metalanguage (Watson, “Eyes”). The advantage of Coding is that ‘thinks’ the same way as film making, it does not sidetrack the analyst into prose. The Code splits the movie print into Vision Action [vision graphic elements, including text] (sound) The Coding splits the vision track into normal action and graphic elements, such as text, so this Coding is an ideal method for extracting all the text elements of a film in real time. After playing the film once, I had four and a half tightly packed pages of the coded story, including all its text elements in square brackets. Being a unique, indexed hard copy, the Coded copy allowed me immediate access to any point of the Muriel’s Wedding saga without having to search the DVD laser print. How are ‘print’ elements used in Muriel’s Wedding? Firstly, a rose-coloured monoprint of Muriel Heslop’s smiling face stares enigmatically from the plastic surface of the DVD picture disc. The print is a still photo captured from her smile as she walked down the aisle of her white wedding. In this print, Toni Collette is the Mona Lisa of Australian culture, except that fans of Muriel’s Wedding know the meaning of that smile is a magical combination of the actor’s art: the smile is both the flush of dreams come true and the frightening self deception that will kill her mother. Inserting and playing the disc, the text-dominant menu appears, and the film commences with the text-dominant opening titles. Text and titles confer a legitimacy on a work, whether it is a trade mark of the laser print owners, or the household names of stars. Text titles confer status relationships on both the presenters of the cultural artifact and the viewer who has entered into a legal license agreement with the owners of the movie. A title makes us comfortable, because the mind always seeks to name the unfamiliar, and a set of text titles does that job for us so that we can navigate the ‘tracks’ and settle into our engagement with the unfamiliar. The apparent ‘truth’ and ‘stability’ of printed text calms our fears and beguiles our uncertainties. Muriel attends the white wedding of a school bully bride, wearing a leopard print dress she has stolen. Muriel’s spotted wild animal print contrasts with the pure white handmade dress of the bride. In Muriel’s leopard textile print, we have the wild, rebellious, impoverished, inappropriate intrusion into the social ritual and fantasy of her high-status tormentor. An off-duty store detective recognizes the printed dress and calls the police. The police are themselves distinguished by their blue-and-white checked prints and other mechanically reproduced impressions of cultural symbols: in steel, brass, embroidery, leather and plastics. Muriel is driven in the police car past the stenciled town sign (‘Welcome To Porpoise Spit’ heads a paragraph of small print). She is delivered to her father, a politician who presides over the policing of his town. In a state where the judiciary, police and executive are hijacked by the same tyrant, Muriel’s father, Bill, pays off the police constables with a carton of legal drugs (beer) and Muriel must face her father’s wrath, which he proceeds to transfer to his detested wife. Like his daughter, the father also wears a spotted brown print costume, but his is a batik print from neighbouring Indonesia (incidentally, in a nation that takes the political status of its batik prints very seriously). Bill demands that Muriel find the receipt for the leopard print dress she claims she has purchased. The legitimate ownership of the object is enmeshed with a printed receipt, the printed evidence of trade. The law (and the paramilitary power behind the law) are legitimized, or contested, by the presence or absence of printed text. Muriel hides in her bedroom, surround by poster prints of the pop group ABBA. Torn-out prints of other people’s weddings adorn her mirror. Her face is embossed with the clown-like primary colours of the marionette as she lifts a bouquet to her chin and stares into the real time ‘print’ of her mirror image. Bill takes the opportunity of a business meeting with Japanese investors to feed his entire family at ‘Charlie Chan’’s restaurant. Muriel’s middle sister sloppily wears her father’s state election tee shirt, printed with the text: ‘Vote 1, Bill Heslop. You can’t stop progress.’ The text sets up two ironic gags that are paid off on the dialogue track: “He lost,’ we are told. ‘Progress’ turns out to be funding the concreting of a beach. Bill berates his daughter Muriel: she has no chance of becoming a printer’s apprentice and she has failed a typing course. Her dysfunction in printed text has been covered up by Bill: he has bribed the typing teacher to issue a printed diploma to his daughter. In the gambling saloon of the club, under the arrays of mechanically repeated cultural symbols lit above the poker machines (‘A’ for ace, ‘Q’ for queen, etc.), Bill’s secret girlfriend Diedre risks giving Muriel a cosmetics job. Another text icon in lights announces the surf nightclub ‘Breakers’. Tania, the newly married queen bitch who has made Muriel’s teenage years a living hell, breaks up with her husband, deciding to cash in his negotiable text documents – his Bali honeymoon tickets – and go on an island holiday with her girlfriends instead. Text documents are the enduring site of agreements between people and also the site of mutations to those agreements. Tania dumps Muriel, who sobs and sobs. Sobs are a mechanical, percussive reproduction impressed on the sound track. Returning home, we discover that Muriel’s older brother has failed a printed test and been rejected for police recruitment. There is a high incidence of print illiteracy in the Heslop family. Mrs Heslop (Jeannie Drynan), for instance, regularly has trouble at the post office. Muriel sees a chance to escape the oppression of her family by tricking her mother into giving her a blank cheque. Here is the confluence of the legitimacy of a bank’s printed negotiable document with the risk and freedom of a blank space for rebel Muriel’s handwriting. Unable to type, her handwriting has the power to steal every cent of her father’s savings. She leaves home and spends the family’s savings at an island resort. On the island, the text print-challenged Muriel dances to a recording (sound print) of ABBA, her hand gestures emphasizing her bewigged face, which is made up in an impression of her pop idol. Her imitation of her goddesses – the ABBA women, her only hope in a real world of people who hate or avoid her – is accompanied by her goddesses’ voices singing: ‘the mystery book on the shelf is always repeating itself.’ Before jpeg and gif image downloads, we had postcard prints and snail mail. Muriel sends a postcard to her family, lying about her ‘success’ in the cosmetics business. The printed missal is clutched by her father Bill (Bill Hunter), who proclaims about his daughter, ‘you can’t type but you really impress me’. Meanwhile, on Hibiscus Island, Muriel lies under a moonlit palm tree with her newly found mentor, ‘bad girl’ Ronda (Rachel Griffiths). In this critical scene, where foolish Muriel opens her heart’s yearnings to a confidante she can finally trust, the director and DP have chosen to shoot a flat, high contrast blue filtered image. The visual result is very much like the semiabstract Japanese Ukiyo-e woodblock prints by Utamaro. This Japanese printing style informed the rise of European modern painting (Monet, Van Gogh, Picasso, etc., were all important collectors and students of Ukiyo-e prints). The above print and text elements in Muriel’s Wedding take us 27 minutes into her story, as recorded on a single page of real-time handwritten Coding. Although not discussed here, the Coding recorded the complete film – a total of 106 minutes of text elements and main graphic elements – as four pages of Code. Referring to this Coding some weeks after it was made, I looked up the final code on page four: taxi [food of the sea] bq. Translation: a shop sign whizzes past in the film’s background, as Muriel and Ronda leave Porpoise Spit in a taxi. Over their heads the text ‘Food Of The Sea’ flashes. We are reminded that Muriel and Ronda are mermaids, fantastic creatures sprung from the brow of author PJ Hogan, and illuminated even today in the pantheon of women’s coming-of-age art works. That the movie is relevant ten years on is evidenced by the current usage of the Muriel’s Wedding online forum, an intersection of wider discussions by sliterate women on imdb.com who, like Muriel, are observers (and in some cases victims) of horrific pressure from ambitious female gangs and bullies. Text is always a minor element in a motion picture (unless it is a subtitled foreign film) and text usually whizzes by subliminally while viewing a film. By Coding the work for [text], all the text nuances made by the film makers come to light. While I have viewed Muriel’s Wedding on many occasions, it has only been in Coding it specifically for text that I have noticed that Muriel is a representative of that vast class of talented youth who are discriminated against by print (as in text) educators who cannot offer her a life-affirming identity in the English classroom. Severely depressed at school, and failing to type or get a printer’s apprenticeship, Muriel finds paid work (and hence, freedom, life, identity, independence) working in her audio visual printed medium of choice: a video store in a new city. Muriel found a sliterate admirer at the video store but she later dumped him for her fantasy man, before leaving him too. One of the points of conjecture on the imdb Muriel’s Wedding site is, did Muriel (in the unwritten future) get back together with admirer Brice Nobes? That we will never know. While a print forms a track that tells us where culture has been, a print cannot be the future, a print is never animate reality. At the end of any trail of prints, one must lift one’s head from the last impression, and negotiate satisfaction in the happening world. References Australian Broadcasting Corporation. “Memo Shows US General Approved Interrogations.” 30 Mar. 2005 http://www.abc.net.au>. British Broadcasting Commission. “Films ‘Fuel Online File-Sharing’.’’ 22 Feb. 2005 http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/technology/3890527.stm>. Bretherton, I. “The Origins of Attachment Theory: John Bowlby and Mary Ainsworth.” 1994. 23 Jan. 2005 http://www.psy.med.br/livros/autores/bowlby/bowlby.pdf>. Bunniesormaybemidgets. Chat Room Comment. “What Did Those Girls Do to Rhonda?” 28 Mar. 2005 http://us.imdb.com/title/tt0110598/board/>. Chinese Graphic Arts Net. Mantras of the Dharani Sutra. 20 Feb. 2005 http://www.cgan.com/english/english/cpg/engcp10.htm>. Ewins, R. Barkcloth and the Origins of Paper. 1991. 20 Feb. 2005 http://www.justpacific.com/pacific/papers/barkcloth~paper.html>. Grassl K.R. The DVD Statistical Report. 14 Mar. 2005 http://www.corbell.com>. Hahn, C. M. The Topic Is Paper. 20 Feb. 2005 http://www.nystamp.org/Topic_is_paper.html>. Harper, D. Online Etymology Dictionary. 14 Mar. 2005 http://www.etymonline.com/>. Mask of Zorro, The. Screenplay by J McCulley. UA, 1920. Muriel’s Wedding. Dir. PJ Hogan. Perf. Toni Collette, Rachel Griffiths, Bill Hunter, and Jeannie Drynan. Village Roadshow, 1994. O’Hagan, Jack. On The Road to Gundagai. 1922. 2 Apr. 2005 http://ingeb.org/songs/roadtogu.html>. Poole, J.H., P.L. Tyack, A.S. Stoeger-Horwath, and S. Watwood. “Animal Behaviour: Elephants Are Capable of Vocal Learning.” Nature 24 Mar. 2005. Sanchez, R. “Interrogation and Counter-Resistance Policy.” 14 Sept. 2003. 30 Mar. 2005 http://www.abc.net.au>. Schultheiss, O.C., M.M. Wirth, and S.J. Stanton. “Effects of Affiliation and Power Motivation Arousal on Salivary Progesterone and Testosterone.” Hormones and Behavior 46 (2005). Sherry, N. The Life of Graham Greene. 3 vols. London: Jonathan Cape 2004, 1994, 1989. Silk Road. Printing. 2000. 20 Feb. 2005 http://www.silk-road.com/artl/printing.shtml>. Smith, T. “Elpida Licenses ‘DVD on a Chip’ Memory Tech.” The Register 20 Feb. 2005 http://www.theregister.co.uk/2005/02>. —. “Intel Boffins Build First Continuous Beam Silicon Laser.” The Register 20 Feb. 2005 http://www.theregister.co.uk/2005/02>. Watson, R. S. “Eyes And Ears: Dramatic Memory Slicing and Salable Media Content.” Innovation and Speculation, ed. Brad Haseman. Brisbane: QUT. [in press] Watson, R. S. Visions. Melbourne: Curriculum Corporation, 1994. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Watson, Robert. "E-Press and Oppress: Audio Visual Print Drama, Identity, Text and Motion Picture Rebellion." M/C Journal 8.2 (2005). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0506/08-watson.php>. APA Style Watson, R. (Jun. 2005) "E-Press and Oppress: Audio Visual Print Drama, Identity, Text and Motion Picture Rebellion," M/C Journal, 8(2). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0506/08-watson.php>.

The technical apparatus is, then, being made at home with the rest of our world. And that's a thing that's routinely being done, and it's the source of the failure of technocratic dreams that if only we introduced some fantastic new communication machine, the world will be transformed. Where what happens is that the object is made at home in the world that has whatever organisation it already has. -- Harvey Sacks (Lectures on Conversation Vol. 2., 548-9) Chatting, or having a conversation, has long been a favourite activity for people. It seemed so ordinary, if not to say trivial, that it has for almost equally long not been studied in any dedicated way. It was only when Harvey Sacks and his early collaborators started using the tape recorder to study telephone conversations that 'conversation' as a topic has become established (cf. Sacks, Lectures Vol. 1). Inspired by Harold Garfinkel, the perspective chosen was a procedural one: they wanted to analyse how conversations are organised on the spot. As Sacks once said: The gross aim of the work I am doing is to see how finely the details of actual, naturally occurring conversation can be subjected to analysis that will yield the technology of conversation. (Sacks, "On Doing 'Being Ordinary'" 411) Later, Sacks also started using data from audio-recorded face-to-face encounters. Most of the phenomena that the research on telephone conversation unearthed could also be found in face-to-face data. Whether something was lost by relying on just audio materials was not clear at the beginning. But with video-based research, as initiated by Charles Goodwin in the 1970s, one was later able to demonstrate that visual exchanges did play an essential role the actual organisation of face-to-face conduct. When using telephone technology, people seemed to rely on a restricted set of the interactional procedures used in face-to-face settings. But new ways to deal with both general and setting-specific problems, such as mutual identification, were also developed. Now that an increasing number of people spend various amounts of their time 'online', chatting with friends or whoever is available, it is time to study Computer-Mediated Conversation (CMC), as we previously studied face-to-face conversation and Telephone (Mediated) Conversation, using the same procedural perspective. We may expect that we will encounter many phenomena that have become familiar to us, and that we will be able to use many of the same concepts. But we will probably also see that people have developed new technical variations of familiar themes as they adapt the technology of conversation to the possibilities and limitations of this new technology of communicative mediation. In so doing, they will make the new technology 'at home in the world that has whatever organisation it already has.' Space does not allow a full discussion of the properties of text-based CMC as instantiated in 'chat' environments, but comparing CMC with face-to-face communication and telephone conversations, it is obvious that the means to convey meanings are severely restricted. In face-to-face encounters, many of the more subtle aspects of the conversation rely on visual and vocal productions and perceptions, which are more or less distinguishable from the 'text' that has been uttered. Following the early work of Gregory Bateson, these aspects are mostly conceived of as a kind of commentary on the core communication available in the 'text', that is as 'meta-communication'. While the 'separation' between 'levels' of communication, that these conceptualisations imply may distort what actually goes on in face-to-face encounters, there is no doubt that telephone conversations, in which the visual 'channel' is not available, and text-based CMC, which in addition lacks access to voice qualities, do confront participants with important communicative restrictions. An important aspect of text-based computer-mediated chatting is that it offers users an unprecedented anonymity, and therefore an unprecedented licence for unaccountable action, ranging from bland banality to criminal threat, while passing through all imaginable sexual 'perversities'. One upshot of this is that they can present themselves as belonging to any plausible category they may choose, but they will -- in the chat context -- never be sure whether the other participants 'really' are legitimate members of the categories they claim for themselves. In various other formats for CMC, like MUDs and MOOs, the looseness of the connections between the people who type messages and the identities they project in the chat environment seems often to be accepted as an inescapable fact, which adds to the fascination of participation1. The typists can then be called 'players' and the projected identities 'characters', while the interaction can be seen as a game of role-playing. In general chat environments, as the one I will discuss later, such a game-like quality seems not to be openly admitted, although quite often hinted at. Rather, the participants stick to playing who they claim they are. In my own text, however, I will use 'player' and 'character' to indicate the two faces of participation in computer-mediated, text-based chats. In the following sections, I will discuss the organised ways in which one particular problem that chat-players have is dealt with. That problem can be glossed as: how do people wanting to 'chat' on the Internet find suitable partners for that activity? The solution to that problem lies in the explicit naming or implicit suggestion of various kinds of social categories, like 'age', 'sex' and 'location'. Chat players very often initiate a chat with a question like: "hi, a/s/l please?", which asks the other party to self-identify in those terms, as, for instance "frits/m/amsterdam", if that fits the character the player wants to project. But, as I will explain, categorisation plays its role both earlier and later in the chat process. 'Membership Categorisation' in Finding Chat Partners The following exploration is, then, an exercise in Membership Categorisation Analysis (MCA; Hester & Eglin) as based on the ideas developed by Harvey Sacks in the 1960s (Sacks, "An Initial Investigation", "On the Analyzability of Stories", Lectures on Conversation Vol. 1). An immense part of the mundane knowledge that people use in living their everyday lives is organised in terms of categories that label members of some population as being of certain types. These categories are organised in sets, called Membership Categorisation Devices (MCDs). The MCD 'sex' (or 'gender'), for instance, consists of the two categories of 'male' and 'female'. Labelling a person as being male or female carries with it an enormous amount of implied properties, so called 'category-predicates', such as expectable or required behaviours, capacities, values, etc. My overall thesis is that people who want to chat rely mostly on categorical predications to find suitable chat partners. Finding a chat partner or chat partners is an interactive process between at least two parties. Their job involves a combination of presenting themselves and reading others' self presentations. For each, the job has a structure like 'find an X who wants a Y as a partner', where X is the desired chat character and Y is the character you yourself want to play. The set of XY-combinations varies in scope, of course, from very wide, say any male/female combination, to rather narrow, as we will see. The partner finding process for chats can be loosely compared with partly similar processes in other environments, such as cocktail parties, poster sessions at conferences, and telephone calls. The openings of telephone calls have been researched extensively by conversation analysts, especially Schegloff ("Sequencing", "Identification", "Routine"; also Hopper). An interesting idea from this work is that a call opening tends to follow a loosely defined pattern, called the canonical model for telephone openings. This involves making contact, mutual identification/recognition, greetings and 'how-are-you?'s, before the actual business of the call is tackled. When logging on to a chat environment, one enters a market of sorts, where the participants are both buyers and sellers: a general sociability-market like a cocktail party. And indeed some writers have characterised chat rooms as 'virtual cocktail parties'. Some participants in a cocktail party may, of course, have quite specific purposes in mind, like wanting to meet a particular kind of person, or a particular individual, or even being open to starting a relationship which may endure for some time after the event. The same is true for CMC chats. The trajectory that the partner-finding process will take is partly pre-structured by the technology used. I have limited my explorations to one particular chat environment (Microsoft Chat). In that program, the actual partner-finding starts even before logging on, as one is required to fill in certain information slots when setting up the program, such as Real Name and Nickname and optional slots like Email Address and Profile. When you click on the Chat Room List icon, you are presented with a list of over a thousand rooms, alphabetically arranged, with the number of participants. You can select a Room and click a button to enter it. When you do, you get a new screen, which has three windows, one that represents the ongoing general conversation, one with a list of the participants' nicks, and a window to type your contributions in. When you right-click on a name in the participant list, you get a number of options, including Get Profile. Get Profile allows you to get more information on that person, if he/she has filled in that part of the form, but often you get "This person is too lazy to create a profile entry." Categorisation in Room Names When you log in to the chat server, you can search either the Chat Room List or the Users List. Let us take the Chat Room List first. Some room names seem to be designed to come early in the alphabetically ordered list, by starting with one or more A's, as in A!!!!!!!!!FriendlyChat, while others rely on certain key words. Scanning over a thousand names for those words by scrolling the list might take a lot of time, but the Chat Room List has a search facility. You can type a string and the list will be shortened to only those with that string in their name. Many room names seem to be designed for being found this way, by containing a number of more or less redundant strings that people might use in a search. Some examples of room names are: A!!!!!!!!!FriendlyChat, Animal&Girls, Australia_Sydney_Chat_Room, christian evening post, desert_and_cactus_only, engineer, francais_saloppes, francais_soumise_sub_slave, german_deutsch_rollenspiele, hayatherseyeragmensürüyor, holland_babbel, italia_14_19anni, italia_padania_e_basta, L@Ros@deiVenti, nederlandse_chat, sex_tr, subslavespankbondage, Sweet_Girl_From_Alabama, #BI_LES_FEM_ONLY, #Chinese_Chat, #France, #LesbiansBiTeenGirls_Cam_NetMeeting, #polska_do_flirtowania, #russian_Virtual_Bar?, #tr_%izmir, #ukphonefantasy. A first look at this collection of room names suggests two broad classes of categorisation: first a local/national/cultural/ethnic class, and second one oriented to topics, with a large dose of sexual ones. For the first class, different kinds of indicators are available, such as naming as in Australia_Sydney_Chat_Room, and the use of a local language as in hayatherseyeragmensürüyor, or in combination: german_deutsch_rollenspiele. When you enter this type of room, a first function of such categorisations becomes apparent in that non-English categorisations suggest a different language practice. While English is the default language, quite a few people prefer using their own local language. Some rooms even suggest a more restricted area, as in Australia_Sydney_Chat_Room, for those who are interested in chatting with people not too far off. This seems a bit paradoxical, as chatting in a world-wide network allows contacts between people who are physically distant, as is often mentioned in chats. Rooms with such local restrictions may be designed, however, to facilitate possible subsequent face-to-face meetings or telephone contacts, as is suggested by names like Fr@nce_P@ris_Rencontre and #ukphonefantasy. The collection of sexually suggestive names is not only large, but also indicative of a large variety of interests, including just (probably heterosexual) sex, male gay sex, female lesbian or bi-sexuality. Some names invoke some more specialized practices like BDSM, and a collection of other 'perversities', as in names like 'francais_soumcateise_sub_slave', 'subslavespankbondage', 'golden_shower' or 'family_secrets'. But quite often sexual interest are only revealed in subsequent stages of contact. Non-sexual interests are, of course, also apparent, including religious, professional, political or commercial ones, as in 'christian evening post', or 'culturecrossing', 'holland_paranormaal', 'jesussaves', 'Pokemon_Chat', 'francais_informatique', and '#Russian_Philosophy_2918'. Categorisation through Nicknames Having selected a room, your next step is to see who is there. As chatting ultimately concerns exchanges between (virtual) persons, it is no surprise that nicknames are used as concise 'labels' to announce who is available on the chat network or in a particular room. Consider some examples: ^P0371G , amanda14, anneke, banana81, Dream_Girl, emma69, ericdraven, latex_bi_tch1 , Leeroy, LuCho1, Mary15, Miguelo, SomeFun, Steffi, teaser. Some of these are rather opaque, at least at first, while others seem quite ordinary. Anneke, for instance, is an ordinary Dutch name for girls. So, by using this nick name, a person at the same time categorises herself in two Membership Categorisation Devices: gender: 'female' and language: 'Dutch'. When using this type of nick, you will quite often be addressed in Dutch, for instance with the typically Dutch chat-greeting "hoi" and/or by a question like "ben jij Nederlandse?" ("are you Dutch?" -- female form). This question asks you to categorise yourself, using the nationality device 'Dutch/Belgian', within the language category 'speaker of Dutch'. Many other first names like 'amanda' and 'emma', do not have such a language specificity and so do not 'project' a specific European language/nationality as 'anneke' does. Some French names, like 'nathalie' are a bit ambiguous in that respect, as they are used in quite a number of other language communities, so you may get a more open question like "bonjour, tu parle francais?" ("hi, do you speak French?"). A name like 'Miguelo' suggests a roman language, of course, while 'LuCho1' or 'Konusmaz' indicate non-European languages (here Chinese and Turkish, respectively). Quite often, a first name nick also carries an attached number, as in 'Mary15'. One reason for such attachments is that a nick has to be unique, so if you join the channel with a nick like 'Mary', there will mostly be another who has already claimed that particular name. An error message will appear suggesting that you take another nick. The easiest solution, then, is to add an 'identifying detail', like a number. Technically, any number, letter or other character will do, so you can take Mary1, or Mary~, or Mary_m. Quite often, numbers are used in accord with the nick's age, as is probably the case in our examples 'Mary15' and 'amanda14', but not in 'emma69', which suggests an 'activity preference' rather than an age category. Some of the other nicks in our examples suggest other aspects, claims or interests, as in Dream_Girl, latex_bi_tch1, SomeFun, or teaser. Other examples are: 'machomadness', 'daddyishere', 'LadySusan28', 'maleslave', 'curieuse33', 'patrickcam', or 'YOUNG_GAY_BOY'. More elaborate information about a character can sometimes be collected from his or her profile, but for reasons of space, I will not discuss its use here. This paper's interest is not only in finding out which categories and MCDs are actually used, but also how they are used, what kind of function they can be seen to have. How do chat participants organise their way to 'the anchor point' (Schegloff, "Routine"), at which they start their actual chat 'business'? For the chatting environment that I have observed, there seems to be two major purposes, one may be called social, i.e. 'just chatting', as under the rubric 'friendly chat', and the other is sexual. These purposes may be mixed, of course, in that the first may lead to the second, or the second accompanied by the first. Apart from those two major purposes, a number of others can be inferred from the room titles, including the discussion of political, religious, and technical topics. Sexual chats can take various forms, most prominently 'pic trading' and 'cybersex'. As becomes clear from research by Don Slater, an enormous 'market' for 'pic trading' has emerged, with a quite explicit normative structure of 'fair trading', i.e. if one receives something, one should reciprocate in kind. When one is in an appropriate room, and especially if one plays a female character, other participants quite often try to initiate pic trading. This can have the form of sending a pic, without any verbal exchange, possibly followed by a request like 'send also'. But you may also get a verbal request first, like "do you have a (self) pic?" If you reply in a negative way, you often do not get any further reaction, or just "ok." A 'pic request' can also be preceded by some verbal exchanges; social, sexual or both. That question -- "have a pic?" or "wanna trade" -- can then be considered the real starting point for that particular encounter, or it can be part of a process of getting to know each other: "can i c u?" The second form of sexual chats involves cyber sex. This may be characterised as interactionally improvised pornography, the exchange of sexually explicit messages enacting a sexual fantasy or a shared masturbation session. There is a repertoire of opening moves for these kinds of games, including "wanna cyber?", "are you alone?" and "what are you wearing now?" Functions of Categorisations Categorisations in room names, nicks and profiles has two major functions: guiding the selection of suitable chat partners and suggesting topics. Location information has quite diverse implications in different contexts, e.g. linguistic, cultural, national and geographical. Language is a primordial parameter in any text-based activity, and chatting offers numerous illustrations for this. Cultural implications seem to be more diffuse, but probably important for some (classes of?) participants. Nationality is important in various ways, for instance as an 'identity anchor'. So when you use a typically Dutch nick, like 'frits' or 'anneke', you may get first questions asking whether you are from the Netherlands or from Belgium and subsequently from which region or town. This may be important for indicating reachability, either in person or over the phone. Location information can also be used as topic opener. So when you mention that you live in Amsterdam, you often get positive remarks about the city, like "I visited Amsterdam last June and I liked it very much", or "I would die to live there" (sic) from a pot-smoking U.S. student. After language, age and gender seem to be the most important points in exploring mutual suitability. When possible partners differ in age or gender category, this quite often leads to questions like "Am I not too old/young for you?" Of course, age and gender are basic parameters for sexual selection, as people differ in their range of sexual preferences along the lines of these categories, i.e. same sex or opposite sex, and roughly the same age or older/younger age. Such preferences intersect with straight or kinky ones, of which a large variety can be found. Many rooms are organised around one or another combination, as announced in names like '#LesbiansBiTeenGirls_Cam_NetMeeting', 'Hollandlolita' or '#Lesbian_Domination'. In some of these, the host makes efforts to keep to a more or less strict 'regime', for instance by banning obvious males from a room like '#BI_LES_FEM_ONLY'. In others, an automated welcome message is used to lay out the participation rules. Conclusion To sum up, categorisation plays an essential role in a sorting-out process leading, ideally, to small-group or dyadic suitability. A/S/L, age, sex and location, are obvious starting points, but other differentiations, as in sexual preferences which are themselves partly rooted in age/gender combinations, also play a role. In this process, suitability explorations and topic initiations are intimately related. Chatting, then, is text-based categorisation. New communication technologies are invented with rather limited purposes in mind, but they are quite often adopted by masses of users in unexpected ways. In this process, pre-existing communicational purposes and procedures are adapted to the new environment, but basically there does not seem to be any radical change. Comparing mutual categorisation in face-to-face encounters, telephone calls, and text-based CMC as in online chatting, one can see that similar procedures are being used, although in a more and more explicit manner, as in the question: "a/s/l please?" Footnote These ideas have been inspired by Schaap; for an ethnography focussing on the connection between 'life online' and 'real life', see Markham, 1998. References Hopper, Robert. Telephone Conversation. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1992. Hester, Stephen, and Peter Eglin, eds. Culture in Action: Studies in Membership Categorisation Analysis. Washington, D.C.: UP of America, 1997. Markham, Annette H. Life Online: Researching Real Experience in Virtual Space. Walnut Creek, London, New Delhi: Altamira P, 1998. Sacks, Harvey. "An Initial Investigation of the Usability of Conversational Data for Doing Sociology." Studies in Social Interaction. Ed. D. Sudnow. New York: Free P, 1972. 31-74. ---. Lectures on Conversation. Vol. 1. Ed. Gail Jefferson, with an introduction by Emanuel A. Schegloff. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1992. ---. Lectures on Conversation. Vol. 2. Ed. Gail Jefferson, with an introduction by Emanuel A. Schegloff. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1992. ---. "On Doing 'Being Ordinary'." Structures of Social Action: Studies in Conversation Analysis. Ed. J. Maxwell Atkinson and John Heritage. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1984. 413-29. ---. "On the Analyzability of Stories by Children." Directions in Sociolinguistics: The Ethnography of Communication. Ed. John. J. Gumperz and Dell Hymes. New York: Rinehart & Winston, 1972. 325-45. Schaap, Frank. "The Words That Took Us There: Not an Ethnography." M.A. Thesis in Anthropology, University of Amsterdam, 2000. <http://fragment.nl/thesis/>. Schegloff, Emanuel A. "Identification and Recognition in Telephone Conversation Openings." Everyday Language: Studies in Ethnomethodology. Ed. George Psathas. New York: Irvington, 1979. 23-78. ---. "The Routine as Achievement." Human Studies 9 (1986): 111-52. ---. "Sequencing in Conversational Openings." American Anthropologist 70 (1968): 1075-95. Slater, Don R. "Trading Sexpics on IRC: Embodiment and Authenticity on the Internet." Body and Society 4.4 (1998): 91-117. Ten Have, Paul. Doing Conversation Analysis: A Practical Guide. Introducing Qualitative Methods. London: Sage, 1999. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Paul ten Have. "Computer-Mediated Chat: Ways of Finding Chat Partners." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3.4 (2000). [your date of access] <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0008/partners.php>. Chicago style: Paul ten Have, "Computer-Mediated Chat: Ways of Finding Chat Partners," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3, no. 4 (2000), <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0008/partners.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Paul ten Have. (2000) Computer-mediated chat: ways of finding chat partners. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3(4). <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0008/partners.php> ([your date of access]).