Journal articles on the topic 'Classic bicycle'

BackgroundE-bike usage is increasingly popular and concerns about e-bike-related injuries and safety have risen as more injured e-bikers attend the emergency department (ED). Traumatic brain injury (TBI) is the main cause of severe morbidity and mortality in bicycle-related accidents. This study compares the frequency and severity of TBI after an accident with an e-bike or classic bicycle among patients treated in the ED.MethodsThis was a prospective cohort study of patients with bicycle-related injuries attending the ED of a level 1 trauma centre in the Netherlands between June 2016 and May 2017. The primary outcomes were frequency and severity of TBI (defined by the Abbreviated Injury Scale head score ≥1). Injury Severity Score, surgical intervention, hospitalisation and 30-day mortality were secondary outcomes. Independent risk factors for TBI were identified with multiple logistic regression.ResultsWe included 834 patients, of whom there were 379 e-bike and 455 classic bicycle users. The frequency of TBI was not significantly different between the e-bike and classic bicycle group (respectively, n=56, 15% vs n=73, 16%; p=0.61). After adjusting for age, gender, velocity, anticoagulation use and alcohol intoxication the OR for TBI with an e-bike compared with classic bicycle was 0.90 (95% CI 0.56 to 1.45). Independent of type of bicycle, TBI was more likely if velocity was 26–45 km/hour, OR 8.14 (95% CI 2.36 to 28.08), the patient was highly alcohol intoxicated, OR 7.02 (95% CI 2.88 to 17.08) or used anticoagulants, OR 2.18 (95% CI 1.20 to 3.97). TBI severity was similar in both groups (p=0.65): eight e-bike and seven classic bicycle accident victims had serious TBI.ConclusionThe frequency and severity of TBI among patients treated for bicycle-related injuries at our ED was similar for e-bike and classic bicycle users. Velocity, alcohol intoxication and anticoagulant use were the main determinants of the risk of head injury regardless of type of bicycle used.

The Red Zinger Bicycle Classic, later renamed the Coors International Bicycle Classic, is renowned for its influence on the development of men’s and women’s cycle racing in the United States. Recent efforts to create a United States Cycling Monument in Boulder, Colorado, centered on commemorating what is commonly referred to as the Coors Classic. I use the proposed monument as a starting point for exploring how the Coors Classic is being remembered, particularly with respect to the women’s competition. Where do women cyclists and their contests fit into the commemoration of this race? My analysis illuminates gendered aspects of this race and what I refer to as re-cycled narratives. I conclude with a concern about the impact of re-cycled narratives on present-day women’s cycling and consider historian Beverly Southgate’s call for thinking about histories for the future.

In many big cities, for example, Silesia Conurbation, in order to limit the negative results of automotive vehicles operation, toll bicycle rental stations have been actuated. Their users are incidental persons. Therefore, the safety of a traffic participant on bicycle ways and on areas with bicycle traffic depends on the sufficiency of braking systems. In the bicycle industry, there are many of types of brake systems from mechanical to hydraulic. A common part of the brake systems is a friction contact. In this paper, the results of tribological examination of materials used for bicycle brakes have been presented. Tribological investigation (coefficient of friction, wear rate) of classic (the oldest) rubber pad/AW-6061 alloy wheel band, composite with thermoplastic matrix/steel and AW-6061 alloy wheel band as well as friction composite with duroplastic matrix/steel brake disc contacts have been conducted. Microscopic observations of examined materials surfaces have been done and the wear mechanisms have been explained. A preliminary estimation of the influence of used materials on the safety of a traffic participant has been done.

ABSTRACT Mohsen Makhmalbaf, onetime Iranian revolutionary and self-taught filmmaker and humanist, has made a series of highly acclaimed and deeply personal films. The Cyclist has much in common with the style and content of Vittorio De Sica's neorealist classic, The Bicycle Thief. However, despite the similarities, Makhmalbaf, like his fellow filmmakers, has made neorealism distinctively Iranian.

Abstract In what follows I analyse how two Neapolitan songs enhance viewer perspective of the personalities of the protagonists of the classic film of Italian neorealism, Ladri di biciclette (Bicycle Thieves) by De Sica (1948), Antonio Ricci and his son Bruno. The first, 'Ciccio formaggio', casts into relief Antonio's masculine self-image, particularly his reaction to the impact of unemployment on his traditional role of pater familias and to the possibility of public humiliation, should he fail to retrieve his bicycle. While 'Ciccio' sheds light on the tension in the marital relationship, 'Tammurriata' allows the viewer to consider Bruno's marginalization within a self-perpetuating cycle of poverty, thus shifting focus, at least partially, from the father to the long-term effects on the son (for which Antonio feels shame born of inadequacy).

In this paper a method to add elastic effects to the classic ‘bicycle model’ for the simulation of the dynamic behaviour of vehicles is presented. The obtained results show that, in the simulations, dynamic effects such as lateral acceleration are more severe when non-rigid models of the vehicle frame are used. This work demonstrates that the modified bicycle model is a useful instrument to predict the response of a vehicle. At present, much effort is dedicated to simulation with rigid body dynamic programs. The proposed method offers an easy way to evaluate the dynamic effects in models with flexible frames. The elasticity of the frame has an important impact on the directional response (yaw gain and lateral velocity) of the vehicles. This method is useful for analysis from the behaviour of vehicles with modifications made after their manufacture. In the design phase the manufacturer has the suitable tools and the experience to avoid designing frames of low rigidity. Nevertheless, in the second-hand market it is very common for trucks and their structure to be modified. The change in rigidity of the frame could have considerable effects on directional stability and handling.

The extracorporeal elimination of LDL-cholesterol could be performed using the classic non-selective centrifuge or membrane plasmapheresis. The modern methods are more selective and effective. The atherogenic particules are removed from plasma by active colon or capsula. The methods include: cascade filtration, imunoadsorbtion, heparin-induced precipitation of LDL, thermofiltration, dextran-induced precipitation of LDL and direct adsorption of lipids (DALI). The regular LDL-apheresis is the life-saving technique in the treatment of homozygous familial hypercholesterolaemia. It is used in heterozygous familial hypercholesterolaemia when the patients do not respond to diet and drugs therapy, too. The regular LDL-apheresis treatment may be followed by the decreased frequency of angina pain episodes, the reduction of ECG changes during the bicycle ergometry and significant disappearance of tendinous xantomas. Some prospective randomised studies has shown even in this group of patients, resistant to conventional treatment, a significant regression of atherosclerotic changes.

Abstract Background and Purpose. Most patients with hip fracture do not return to prefracture functional status 1 year after surgery. The literature describing interventions, however, does not use classic overload and specificity principles. The purpose of this case report is to describe the use of resistance training to improve functional outcomes in a patient following hip fracture. Case Description. The patient was a 68-year-old woman who had a comminuted intertrochanteric fracture of the left hip 3 months previously. She used a cane for ambulation, and her walking was limited. The patient received 16 sessions of lower-extremity strengthening exercises, aerobic training on a stationary bicycle, functional training supervised by a physical therapist, and a home stretching program. Outcome. The patient's isometric muscle force for involved hip extension, hip abduction, and knee extension improved by 86%, 138%, and 33%, respectively; walking endurance increased by 22.5%; balance improved by 400%; balance confidence increased by 41%; and self-reported ability to perform lower-extremity functional activities increased by 20%. Discussion. The authors believe that some patients can perform comprehensive exercise programs after hip fracture and that properly designed programs can affect patient outcomes beyond observed impairments.

Some of the works of Maurice Leblanc are considered in the article, who is one of the creators of the French classic detective, written between 1890 and 1905 (before the publication of the first novel about the adventures of "gentleman-cambrioleur" by Arsène Lupin). The influence of Henri René Albert Guy de Maupassant and Gustave Flaubert is combined with an appeal to Breton legends and erotic motives popular in the “Belle Époque”. The image of a bicycle, a car and the cult of speed associated with them, anticipating the plot dynamics of Lupinian in these works is analysed. On the example of Leblanc's short stories, published in a number of newspapers in the mid-1890s to early 1900s, the gradual maturation of criminal narrative in his work is shown. Among the problems raised in the article – Leblanc's reaction to the ideas of anarchism and the potential influence on the image of Arsène Lupin of the personality of the famous anarchist Marius Jacob as well as the influence of the work of Ernest William Hornung (the creator of the character of A. J. Raffles, the "Amateur Cracksman").

Through the lens of R. J. Fleming, Irish Methodist businessman, alderman, and four times mayor of Toronto in the 1890s, this paper re-examines the moral reform campaigns of middle-class Protestants described by Christopher Armstrong and H. V. Nelles in their now classic study, The Revenge of the Methodist Bicycle Company (1977). Instead of looking at the Sunday car issue from the perspective of the promoters and as evidence of secularization, it presents as a case study Fleming’s conflicted and controversial role as an evangelical politician confronted with a divisive moral and religious issue within the late nineteenth-century liberal state. Scholarly debates on the process of secularization in late nineteenth-century Canada have given little attention to the influence of the timing and nature of the country’s political arrangements and have thus neglected the contradictions and tensions devout politicians faced within the new state and social order. This paper argues the need to make an important but often overlooked distinction between political and social secularization. With close attention to detail, it examines Fleming as an “evangelical modernizer” who as a politician had to maintain the neutrality of the state and at the same time address the concerns of a religious constituency that feared a favourable vote on Sunday cars would lead to social secularization.

The lane-changing decision-making process is challenging but critical to ensure safe and smooth maneuvers for autonomous vehicles (AVs). Conventional Gipps-type algorithms lack the flexibility for practical use under a mixed autonomous vehicle and human-driven vehicle (AV-HV) environment. Algorithms based on utility ignore the reactions of surrounding vehicles to the lane-changing vehicle. Game theory is a good way to solve the shortcomings of current algorithms, but most models based on game theory simplify the game with surrounding vehicles to the game with the following vehicle in the target lane, which means that the lane-changing decision under a mixed environment is not realized. This paper proposes a lane-changing decision-making model which is suitable for an AV to change lanes under a mixed environment based on a multi-player dynamic game theory. The overtaking expectation parameter (OEP) is introduced to estimate the utility of the following vehicle, OEP can be calculated by the proposed non-lane-based full velocity difference model with the consideration of lateral move and aggressiveness. This paper further proposes a hybrid splitting method algorithm to obtain the Nash equilibrium solution in the multi-player game to obtain the optimal strategy of lane-changing decision for AVs. An adaptive cruise control simulation environment is developed with MATLAB’s Simulink toolbox using Next Generation Simulation (NGSIM) data as the background traffic flow. The classic bicycle model is used in the control of involved HVs. Simulation results show the efficiency of the proposed multi-player dynamic game-based algorithm for lane-changing decision making by AVs under a mixed AV-HV environment.

Chronic coronary syndrome is characterized by the development of episodes of ischemia due to an imbalance between needs and blood supply to the myocardium. Such episodes are usual­ly provoked by physical or emotional stress or other stressful situations, but can also occur spontaneously. Angina attacks are a classic manifestation of myocardial ischemia. In some cases, the disease may be asymptomatic for a while and begin immediately with acute coronary syndrome. Chronic coronary syndrome may have a long preclinical period on the background of confirmed coronary athe­rosclerosis. This review analyses the relevant data about the current state of the problem of diabetes mellitus and chronic coronary syndrome. In particular, the issues related to the peculiarities of risk assessment, the main factors causing a very high risk of atherosclerotic cardiovascular diseases; classification, the main characteristics of chronic coronary syndrome and its features in diabetes mellitus; diagnosis of chronic coronary syndrome (dosed physical acti­vity — bicycle ergometry, treadmill test, or stress tests; single-photon emission computed tomography, stress echocardiography; stress cardiac magnetic resonance imaging, positron emission tomography ­using radioactive tracers) were considered. Features of conservative therapy for chronic coronary syndrome against the background of diabetes mellitus (prescription of antiplatelet agents, β-adrenergic receptor blockers, calcium channel blockers, nitrates, angiotensin-converting enzyme inhibitors, myocardial cytoprotectors, statins) were analyzed. Treatment of a patient with a combination of diabetes mellitus and chronic coronary syndrome will be successful only if adequate antidiabetic therapy that is safe in terms of hypoglycemia and possible cardiovascular risks, on the one hand, and metabolically neutral antianginal therapy, on the other, is prescribed. Undoubtedly, it is necessary to pay attention to the correction of risk factors for cardiovascular diseases, hypertension and chronic heart failure.

We implemented a team-based activity in our exercise physiology teaching laboratory that was inspired from Abbott et al.’s classic 1952 Journal of Physiology paper titled “The physiological cost of negative work.” Abbott et al. connected two bicycles via one chain. One person cycled forward (muscle shortening contractions, positive work) while the other resisted the reverse moving pedals (muscle lengthening contractions, negative work), and the cost of work was compared. This study was the first to link human whole body energetics with isolated muscle force-velocity characteristics. The laboratory activity for our students ( n = 35) was designed to reenact Abbott et al.’s experiment, integrate previously learned techniques, and illustrate differences in physiological responses to muscle shortening and lengthening contractions. Students (11–12 students/laboratory section) were split into two teams (positive work vs. negative work). One student from each team volunteered to cycle against the other for ~10 min. The remaining students in each team were tasked with measuring: 1) O2 consumption, 2) heart rate, 3) blood lactate, and 4) perceived exertion. Students discovered that O2 consumption during negative work was about one-half that of positive work and all other physiological parameters were also substantially lower. Muscle lengthening contractions were discussed and applied to rehabilitation and sport training. The majority of students (>90%) agreed or strongly agreed that they stayed engaged during the activity and it improved their understanding of exercise physiology. All students recommended the activity be performed again. This activity was engaging, emphasized teamwork, yielded clear results, was well received, and preserved the history of classic physiological experiments.

ABSTRACTHow mechanisms of pattern formation evolve has remained a central research theme in the field of evolutionary and developmental biology. The mechanism of wing vein differentiation in Drosophila is a classic text-book example of pattern formation using a system of positional information, yet very little is known about how species with a different number of veins pattern their wings, and how insect venation patterns evolved. Here, we examine the expression pattern of genes previously implicated in vein differentiation in Drosophila in two butterfly species with more complex venation Bicyclus anynana and Pieris canidia. We also test the function of some of these genes in B. anynana. We identify both conserved as well as new domains of decapentaplegic, engrailed, invected, spalt, optix, wingless, armadillo, blistered and rhomboid gene expression in butterflies, and propose how the simplified venation in Drosophila might have evolved via loss of decapentaplegic, spalt and optix gene expression domains, via silencing of vein-inducing programs at Spalt-expression boundaries, and via changes in expression of vein maintenance genes.

Abstract Bituminous coals and clastic rocks from the Lublin Formation (Pennsylvanian, Westphalian B) were subjected to detailed biomarker and Rock-Eval analyses. The investigation of aliphatic and aromatic fractions and Rock-Eval Tmax suggests that the Carboniferous deposits attained relatively low levels of thermal maturity, at the end of the microbial processes/initial phase of the oil window. Somewhat higher values of maturity in the clastic sediments were caused by postdiagenetic biodegradation of organic matter. The dominance of the odd carbon-numbered n-alkanes in the range n-C25 to n-C31 , high concentrations of moretanes and a predominance of C 28 and C29 steranes are indicative of a terrigenous origin of the organic matter in the study material. This is supported by the presence of eudesmane, bisabolane, dihydro-ar-curcumene and cadalene, found mainly in the coal samples. In addition, tri- and tetracyclic diterpanes, e. g. 16β(H)-kaurane, 16β(H)-phyllocladane, 16α(H)-kaurane and norisopimarane, were identified, suggesting an admixture of conifer ancestors among the deposited higher plants. Parameters Pr/n-C17 and Rdit in the coal samples show deposition of organic matter from peat swamp environments, with the water levels varying from high (water-logged swamp) to very low (ephemeral swamp). Clastic deposits were accumulated in a flood plain environment with local small ponds/lakes. In pond/lake sediments, apart from the dominant terrigenous organic matter, research also revealed a certain quantity of algal matter, indicated, i.a., by the presence of tricyclic triterpanes C28 and C29 and elevated concentrations of steranes. The Paq parameter can prove to be a useful tool in the identification of organic matter, but the processes of organic matter biodegradation observed in clastic rocks most likely influence the value of the parameter, at the same time lowering the interpretation potential of these compounds. The value of Pr/Ph varies from 0.93 to 5.24 and from 3.49 to 22.57 in the clastic sediments and coals respectively. The microbial degradation of organic matter in both type of rocks and during early stages of diagenesis is confirmed by a high concentration of hopanes, the presence of drimane homologues, bicyclic alkanes and benzohopanes. Moreover, bacteria could also have been connected with the primary input of organic matter, which is shown by the presence of e.g. C30 neohop-13(18)-ene.

The anxiolytic and antidepressant-like activities of the naturally occurring monoterpene 1,8-cineole and its structural isomer 1,4-cineole were evaluated in mice via inhalation administration at doses ranging from 4 × 10−6 to 4 × 10−1 mg per 400 μL of triethyl citrate. Mice were tested for anxiety-like behaviours by using the light–dark box test (LDB) and marble-burying test (MBT) and for depression-like symptoms by using the forced swimming test (FST) and tail suspension test (TST). Diazepam and fluoxetine were used as standard drugs for anxiolytic and antidepressant tests, respectively. The results showed that 1,8-cineole at 4 × 10−4 mg, and 1,4-cineole at 4 × 10−4 and 4 × 10−3 mg significantly increased the amount of time spent in the light box and the number of entries in the light box in the LDB as well as reduced the number of marbles buried in the MBT relative to those in the control, suggesting an anxiolytic effect. Similarly, 1,8-cineole at 4 × 10−4 and 4 × 10−2 mg and 1,4-cineole at doses of 4 × 10−4 to 4 × 10−2 mg significantly reduced immobility times in the FST and TST relative to those of the control, suggesting an antidepressant activity. The role of the GABAA/benzodiazepine receptor system in the anxiolytic effects of 1,8- and 1,4-cineole was investigated through co-administration of flumazenil, a GABAergic system antagonist. Flumazenil reversed the effects of diazepam and 1,8-cineole, suggesting that 1,8-cineole affects the GABAA/benzodiazepine receptors. Collectively, the results suggest that inhaled 1,8- and 1,4-cineole prevented anxiety and depressive-like symptoms in classic mice models.

Historically, traditional transport is very interesting to be analyzed. The people ofYogyakarta has had various traditional transport as the artifact with different meanings. Decadesago, the traditional horse cart (andong), cart, and classic cart currently kept in the Royal Museumas well as cow cart were the reliable transport for public mobility. Other vehicles were traditionalpedicab (becak) and bicycles both for male and female riders.The artifacts have currently not been in operation any longer. Although some peoplehave attempted to reserve the existence of those traditional transport, such as the cow cartcommunity, traditional bicycle community, and still many others, the reservation has to be takenmore seriously in order that the young generation have the sense of belonging. They have to beproud of the fact that the ancestors already had such traditional transports.The data concerning the traditional transports was collected from the regions inYogyakarta which still reserve the artifacts. Only few are operated, while most of them arereserved in such museums as the Royal Museum of Yogyakarta. The ancient Royal Palace usedto operate their classic carts for royal events. The carts had different functions, performances,and esthetics. They also symbolize different historical meanings. The parts of the carts have highesthetic value and craftsmanship. The decoration is sophisticated and can be transformed intovisualized works for further reservation.To reserve the historical artifacts and parts with their artistic value, they are put into themotif of batik in Yogyakarta. In this way, batik Yogyakarta will be have richer motifs. Such motifsand patterns as the traditional transports as becak and bicycle are reserved on batik. It isexpected that the young generation will proudly see and appreciate the wonderful historicalvalue inherited by the ancestors.Key Words: Traditional Transport, history, reserve, inspiration, Batik motif Garis kesejarahan akan Angkutan Tradisional menarik untuk dikaji, MasyarakatYogyakarta memiliki sejarah Angkutan Tradisional sebagai kekayaan artefak peninggalan, yangmenyiratkan berbagai makna. ATT: Andhong, kereta , kereta klasik yang ada di Museum Keretakeraoin, serta gerobag sapi itu puluhan tahun yang lalu menjadi andalan bagi mobilitasmasyarakat kita. Dilengkapi dengan becak dan sepeda onthel lanang maupun wedhok. KiniArtefak tersebut tinggal kenangan. Walaupun masih ada yang nguri-uri sebagaimana berdirikomunitas gerobag sapi, komunitas sepeda onthel dan yang lain, namun perlu dilestarikan untuk kepentingan generasi muda agar masih memiliki rasa handarbeni: bahwa dulu leluhurnyamemiliki berjenis-jenis kendaraan tradisional.Upaya untuk mendapatkan data dari ATTT didapatkan di daerah Yogyakarta yang masihartefak dan masih aktif dijalankan, sebagian besar sudah dilestarikan dalam museum sepertimuseum kereta di Keraton Yogyakarta. Kereta klasik yang pernah dimiliki kerajaan Yogyakartatersebut bermacam fungsi, performent dan estetikanya. Semua itu bermakna, sebagai buktisejarah Keberadaan Angkutan Transfortasi Tradisional. Artefak tranportasi itu memiliki bagianbagianyang estetis, bernilai craft yang tinggi, penuh hiasan yang rumit, semuanya menjadiobyek estetika yang dapat dilanjutkan lagi menjadi karya-karya visual yang dapat memberikannilai kelestarian.Untuk melestarikan artefak bersejarah dan bagian-bagian yang memiliki nilai artistictersebut, selaras apabila dijadikan inspirasi sebagai motif batik bagi Yogyakarta, agar menambahbarisan panjang motif yang dimiliki oleh dunia perbatikan kota Yogyakarta, ATT seperti becak,sepeda tersebut diangkat menjadi inspirasi untuk pola dan motif batik. Agar lestari dan generasidapat menyaksikan dan tidak kehilangan nilai sejarah yang dimiliki para pendahulu. Kata kunci: alat transportasi tradisional, sejarah, melestarikan, inspirasi, motif, batik.

Cities are shared spaces. As the massive worldwide Iraq war protests that began in 2002 indicate, the structure of the city allows for the presentation of social statements, where large groups can gather, share ideas or argue beliefs, and where media outlets can broadcast these activities. While cities enable these forms of interaction, digital technologies also allow for worldwide connections, both through communication and entertainment. What is the relationship between the shared, often contested spaces of the city and how they are represented in interactive media such as videogames? What statements are formed in the streets of Grand Theft Auto? In this paper I will discuss three popular games that reproduce urban spaces: the Grand Theft Auto series (1998-2006), Tony Hawk’s American Wasteland (2004), and Getting Up: Contents under Pressure (2006). These games are of interest due to their popularity, as well as the forms of interaction reinforced by the urban game environment. Cities have always been spaces for interaction and competition, becoming the site for festivals, protests and games. Ancient forms of graffiti in Rome and Pompeii have been re-envisioned in a worldwide graffiti movement, transforming blighted areas into image-laden environments. Games of stickball, hockey and football transform streets into fields, as do modern marathons and bicycle races. The city street becomes a zone of interpretation, for adaptation and personalization. More recently, skateboarders have transformed cities into skateparks, forcing designers to develop such curiosities as handrail and planter augmentation meant to deter skating. Even more peculiar, a possible response to the anti-skating backlash is the sport known as ‘free-running’ or le parkeur, where participants use the existing infrastructure to express themselves, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, climbing concrete peaks and adding stylistic flourish with each step. These forms of urban gameplay may also be accompanied by dangerous activities as well. Jenkins suggests that discussions on the negative effects of increased gameplay might be addressed by looking at socioeconomic factors, such as the increasing numbers of young people living in urban or semi-urban areas who have fewer opportunities for activity that takes place out of doors, creating the prospect for increased interaction with videogames (“Complete Freedom”). The adaptability combined with the dangerous allure of the city street makes for problematic, intriguing representations in contemporary videogames that deal with urban spaces. I will first discuss a brief history of games that deal with urban spaces, before discussing three popular games and the manner in which they attempt to represent, and recreate the experiences in the city. Games and the City One of the earliest examples of the city represented in a videogame can be seen in Rampage, released by Bally/Midway in 1986. The game includes the city only as backdrop for demolition by hyperagressive mutant animals. SimCity, created by Will Wright and released in 1989, is considered a landmark in the history of videogames, as it is based in forms of cooperation rather than competition. It has spawned at least 21 varieties, including the highly anticipated Spore, a game that allows the player to control life on a microbiological level. Game developers also have explored the recreation of cities from the past. Games such as Civilization and Children of the Nile: Immortal Cities (2004) allow players to control events on a broad social scale, in the style of SimCity, with the addition of historical information that comes into play. As videogames have developed, an increase in processing power has allowed programmers to create spaces rendered in real-time, in three dimensions, allowing for immersive ‘first-person’ perspectives not possible in earlier game systems. This perspective has changed the way in which the city is engaged, from the simplistic destruction of Rampage to more nuanced ways of moving through game space. When discussing the perspective of the player in the urban game space, we should also discuss the perspective of the city inhabitant. As de Certeau describes it, the act of walking in the city represents a form of ownership, reading and creating ‘texts’ through movement. This perspective can shift, through travel in automobile or train, or by ascending in skyscrapers, changing the understanding of the text in the process. This process is inevitably collaborative, as the urban terrain that is monitored both by individuals and by groups: businesses, governments, police. As Flynn suggests, this notion of walking closely resembles the procedural nature of generating meaning in many videogames. Recent games such as the Grand Theft Auto series (1998-2006), Tony Hawk’s American Wasteland (2004), and Getting Up: Contents Under Pressure (2006) raise issues regarding the representation of the city, and the possibilities afforded the player. Of interest are the following questions: How is the urban environment represented? What options are provided to players for interaction within this environment? Are their implications for everyday practices that borrow from these game-based environments? Grand Theft Auto Grand Theft Auto (GTA) was first released in 1998, and has since expanded into a series of increasingly controversial games. Originally designed for top-down gameplay, a third person point of view was introduced in GTA II (2001). Along with this new point of view came the ability for players to interact with a highly detailed cityspace, deviating from the urban gangster storyline, and interacting with city inhabitants in any number of illicit ways. This interactivity was taken to an extreme in GTA: San Andreas (2004). GTA: San Andreas is set in a state that is a fictional blend of California and Nevada. It continued the gangster storyline of the previous games, becoming notorious for including an encoded, hidden level that allowed players to take part in explicit sex scenes. It featured a style of nonlinear gameplay that allowed players to entertain themselves, exploring the urban landscape free from rigid game requirements. It also limited interactions with city dwellers, limiting narrative elements to ‘cut scenes’ that allow for uninhibited gameplay. As Frasca suggests, the later Grand Theft Auto games are really about moving through space, typically seen as a mundane activity, in an interesting way. However, that which makes the movement interesting typically involves killing and maiming and destroying that which stands in the way of the main character. Without getting into a discussion of morals and videogames, the GTA series certainly has pushed the boundaries of video game acceptability, as well as engaging gameplay, allowing players to drift through the urban environment. The Situationist International (SI) sought to engage with the city, opening up possibilities for new forms of engagement and interaction through drifts, or derivé. Through various forms of derivé they engaged with the psychogeographic space of the city, walking through varied areas, and reorganizing these experiences as though in a dream state, or, perhaps, game (Sadler). Surely any video game can be experienced in a similar manner. I suggest that the GTA series, through interactive openness, allows players to reread the text of this virtual city, while at the same time contributing to the ‘society of the spectacle’ that situationist Guy Debord so maligned (Debord). As a successful yet problematic blend of simulation and quest, the rules in GTA: San Andreas are not made explicit; we are familiar with the urban spaces depicted in GTA, at least through the stereotypes portrayed in the media. Players therefore know the rules implicit to these spaces, and what happens when we break them; thus, the allure of the simulated urban environment. The text created is one that combines lived experience, mediated images, and interaction with the fictional urban space. What happens when this environment is made specific, when the game depicts a real city? Tony Hawk Pro Skater The Tony Hawk Pro Skater (THPS) series became very popular after its release in 1999, capitalizing on the marketing of ‘extreme sports’ as seen in events such as ESPN X Games, which debuted in 1995. While not the first skateboarding game on the market, THPS captured the imagination of the game buying audience, allowing players to skate as Tony Hawk, or any number of pro skaters. The latest installment of the series is Tony Hawk American Wasteland (THAW), which promotes the seamless connections between levels that are detailed reproductions of Los Angeles. While the GTA series allows for, and in many cases encourages, activities that would be deemed illegal, THAW extends the possibility that the player could actually perform these acts in the place depicted in the game. Does this allow for greater immersion, which then inspires players to ‘take it to the street?’ Or, does the gameplay reinforce the argument against such activities in the actual urban space, affirming their ‘destructive’ nature? Although skaters can be a nuisance, particularly in crowded downtown areas, the appropriation of utilitarian infrastructure can also be seen as improvisational art, adapting existing urban features in the process of skating. The SI notion of detournement can be seen in the actions of many skaters, as the process of skating brings new meanings to the urban landscape. Whether the Pro Skater series adds to the possibilities for detournement, or further limits the actual skating that happens in the city, is only relevant to those who skate and those who attempt to prevent this sport from taking place. As you skate through the city, writing the text of your experience through railslides and grinds, you are also given the ability to ‘tag’ the walls of Los Angeles, literally inscribing your place in the environment. The control of urban spaces, and the possibilities for rewriting these spaces—for detournement—brings me to my third example. Getting Up Marc Ecko, clothing designer and hip-hop aficionado, released Getting Up: Contents under Pressure in 2006. Players assume the identity of ‘Trane,’ a young graffiti artists desparate to learn the ropes in the city of ‘New Radius.’ New Radius is currently under the draconian control of ‘Mayor Sung,’ who has promised to rid the city of the scourge of graffiti. As Trane, you make your way through New Radius, battling foes and meeting graffiti legends, who teach you new skills along the way. Getting Up is unique from the games previously mentioned, as you have the ability to interact with the urban environment in a manner that is not incessantly violent or overtly destructive. In fact, the game is marketed as a way to get the thrill of ‘tagging’ without actually taking part in illegal activity. It is also a unique experience, as Trane walks through the entire environment. This slows down the gameplay, and allows the character to take in the highly detailed environments. It a very literal way, the player in Getting Up is writing the city, as de Certeau describes it, though this writing is typically underappreciated as creative activity, much less art. Conclusion The games that I have described present the city in very different ways, and offer players diverse options for interacting and thinking about the city. While, the impact of these games remains to be seen, and may never register beyond the world of the gamer, these games present urban environments as active spaces for engagement, even if it is the thuggishness reinforced in Grand Theft Auto. I would hope that the creativity shown in Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater would lead to the creation of not only more skateparks in suburban spaces, but the acknowledgement of the need for detournement in public urban spaces such as Philadelphia’s Love Park, a favorite East Coast US skate spot that has been the center of much controversy as a result of its popularity. If Pro Skater brings the issue of street skating to a national audience, it is doing good, both as entertainment and social force. Similarly, Marc Ecko’s Getting Up has the potential to not only memorialize the birth of graffiti and hip hop in 1970’s New York; it can also instruct on the flourishing worldwide graffiti scene, allowing those who deserve (and desire) attention to have it. Recent projects such as pacmanhattan have inverted the relationships between gaming and the urban environment that I have described. Taking the game to the city, players engage in interpretations of the video game classic Pac Man in the streets of Manhattan, utilizing a variety of locative media devices. While these games do not change the physicality of the city, they surely change our psycheographical interpretation of that space, in a way that folds together the freedom of gameplay with the control of the street. Jenkins suggests that designers should pay more attention to the work of architects and urban planners as they create interactive worlds (“Game Design”). I would also suggest that the opposite take place. Urban designers might learn from the urban spaces created in games such as American Wasteland and Getting Up, as they present options for the detournement of fixed spaces evident in the graffiti and skate cultures. Increased control will result in diverse responses that subvert this control. Cities should remain spaces for walking, for drifting, for protesting: for games. References Bureau of Public Secrets. Situationist International Anthology. Ed. K. Knabb. Berkeley, Calif.: Bureau of Public Secrets, 1981. Debord, Guy. Society of the Spectacle. New York: Zone Books, 1991. De Certeau, Michel. The Practice of Everyday Life. Berkeley, Calif.: University of California Press, 1984. Flynn, B. Languages of Navigation within Computer Games. Paper presentation, Digital Art and Culture, Melbourne, Australia, 2003. April 2006 http://hypertext.rmit.edu.au/dac/papers/Flynn.pdf>. Jenkins, Henry. “Complete Freedom of Movement: Videogames as Gendered Play Spaces.” In The Game Design Reader: A Rules of Play Anthology. Eds. K. Salen and E. Zimmerman. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2006. Jenkins, Henry. “Game Design as Narrative Architecture.” In The Game Design Reader: A Rules of Play Anthology. Eds. K. Salen and E. Zimmerman. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2006. Frasca, G. Sim Sin City: Some Thoughts on Grand Theft Auto. Game Studies 2003. April 2006 http://www.gamestudies.org/0302/frasca/>. Sadler, S. The Situationist City. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1998. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Sweeny, Robert. "Code of the Streets: Videogames and the City." M/C Journal 9.3 (2006). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0607/07-sweeny.php>. APA Style Sweeny, R. (Jul. 2006) "Code of the Streets: Videogames and the City," M/C Journal, 9(3). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0607/07-sweeny.php>.

IntroductionIn Nancy Meyers’s 2015 film The Intern a particular kind of masculinity is celebrated through the material accoutrements of Ben Whittaker (Robert De Niro). A retired 70-year-old manager, Ben takes up a position as a “senior” Intern in an online clothing distribution company run by Jules Ostin (Anne Hathaway). Jules’s company, All About Fit, is the embodiment of the Gen Y creative workplace operating in an old Brooklyn warehouse. Ben’s presence in this environment is anachronistic and yet also stylishly retro in an industry where “vintage” is a mode of dress but also offers alternative ethical values (Veenstra and Kuipers). The alternative that Ben offers is figured through his sartorial style, which mobilises a specific kind of retro masculinity made available through his senior white male body. This paper investigates how and why retro masculinity is materialised and embodied as both a set of values and a set of objects in The Intern.Three particular objects are emblematic of this retro masculinity and come to stand in for a body of desirable masculine values: the business suit, the briefcase, and the handkerchief. In the midst of an indie e-commerce garment business, Ben’s old-fashioned wardrobe registers a regular middle class managerial masculinity from the past that is codified as solidly reliable and dependable. Sherry Turkle reminds us that “material culture carries emotions and ideas of startling intensity” (6), and these impact our thinking, our emotional life, and our memories. The suit, briefcase, and handkerchief are material reminders of this reliable masculine past. The values they evoke, as presented in this film, seem to offer sensible solutions to the fast pace of twenty-first century life and its reconfigurations of family and work prompted by feminism and technology.The film’s fetishisation of these objects of retro masculinity could be mistaken for nostalgia, in the way that vintage collections elide their political context, and yet it also registers social anxiety around gender and generation amid twenty-first century social change. Turner reminds us of the importance of film as a social practice through which “our culture makes sense of itself” (3), and which participates in the ongoing negotiation of the meanings of gender. While masculinity is often understood to have been in crisis since the advent of second-wave feminism and women’s mass entry into the labour force, theoretical scrutiny now understands masculinity to be socially constructed and changing, rather than elemental and stable; performative rather than innate; fundamentally political, and multiple through the intersection of class, race, sexuality, and age amongst other factors (Connell; Butler). While Connell coined the term “hegemonic masculinity,” to indicate “masculinity which occupies the hegemonic position in a given pattern of gender relations” (76), it is always intersectional and contestable. Ben’s hegemonic position in The Intern might be understood in relation to what Buchbinder identifies as “inadequate” or “incompetent” masculinities, which offer a “foil for another principal character” (232), but this movement between margin and hegemony is always in process and accords with the needs that structure the story, and its attendant social anxieties. This film’s fetishising of Ben’s sartorial style suggests a yearning for a stable and recognisable masculine identity, but in order to reinstall these meanings the film must ignore the political times from which they emerge.The construction of retro masculinity in this case is mapped onto Ben’s body as a “senior.” As Gilleard notes, ageing bodies are usually marked by a narrative of corporeal decline, and yet for men of hegemonic privilege, non-material values like seniority, integrity, wisdom, and longevity coalesce to embody “the accumulation of cultural or symbolic capital in the form of wisdom, maturity or experience” (1). Like masculinity, then, corporeality is understood to be a set of unstable signifiers produced through particular cultural discourses.The Business SuitThe business suit is Ben Whittaker’s habitual work attire, so when he comes out of retirement to be an intern at the e-commerce company he re-adopts this professional garb. The solid outline of a tailored and dark-coloured suit signals a professional body that is separate, autonomous and impervious to the outside world, according to Longhurst (99). It is a body that is “proper,” ready for business, and suit-ed to the professional corporate world, whose values it also embodies (Edwards 42). In contrast, the costuming code of the Google generation of online marketers in the film is defined as “super cas[ual].” This is a workplace where the boss rides her bicycle through the open-space office and in which the other 219 workers define their individuality through informal dress and decoration. In this environment Ben stands out, as Jules comments on his first day:Jules: Don’t feel like you have to dress up.Ben: I’m comfortable in a suit if it’s okay.Jules: No, it’s fine. [grins] Old school.Ben: At least I’ll stand out.Jules: I don’t think you’ll need a suit to do that.The anachronism of a 70-year-old being an intern is materialised through Ben’s dress code. The business suit comes to represent Ben not only as old school, however, but as a “proper” manager.As the embodiment of a successful working woman, entrepreneur Jules Ostin appears to be the antithesis of the business-suit model of a manager. Consciously not playing by the book, her company is both highly successful, meeting its five-year objectives in only nine months, and highly vulnerable to disasters like bedbugs, delivery crises, and even badly wrapped tissue. Shaped in her image, the company is often directly associated with Jules herself, as Ben continually notes, and this comes to include the mix of success, vulnerability, and disaster. In fact, the success of her company is the reason that she is urged to find a “seasoned” CEO to run the company, indicating the ambiguous, simultaneous guise of success and disaster.This relationship between individual corporeality and the corporate workforce is reinforced when it is revealed that Ben worked as a manager for 40 years in the very same warehouse, reinforcing his qualities of longevity, reliability, and dependability. He oversaw the printing of the physical telephone book, another quaint material artefact of the past akin to Ben, which is shown to have literally shaped the building where the floor dips over in the corner due to the heavy printers. The differences between Ben and Jules as successive generations of managers in this building operate as registers of social change inflected with just a little nostalgia. Indeed, the name of Jules’s company, All About Fit, seems to refer more to the beautifully tailored “fit” of Ben’s business suit than to any of the other clothed bodies in the company.Not only is the business suit fitted to business, but it comes to represent a properly managed body as well. This is particularly evident when contrasted with Jules’s management style. Over the course of the film, as she endures a humiliating series of meetings, sends a disastrous email to the wrong recipient, and juggles her strained marriage and her daughter’s school schedule, Jules is continuously shown to teeter on the brink of losing control. Her bodily needs are exaggerated in the movie: she does not sleep and apparently risks “getting fat” according to her mother’s research; then when she does sleep it is in inappropriate places and she snores loudly; she forgets to eat, she cries, gets drunk and vomits, gets nervous, and gets emotional. All of these outpourings are in situations that Ben remedies, in his solid reliable suited self. As Longhurst reminds us,The suit helps to create an illusion of a hard, or at least a firm and “proper,” body that is autonomous, in control, rational and masculine. It gives the impression that bodily boundaries continually remain intact and reduce potential embarrassment caused by any kind of leakage. (99)Ben is thus suited to manage situations in ways that contrast to Jules, whose bodily emissions and emotional dramas reinforce her as feminine, chaotic, and emotionally vulnerable. As Gatens notes of our epistemological inheritance, “women are most often understood to be less able to control the passions of the body and this failure is often located in the a priori disorder or anarchy of the female body itself” (50). Transitioning these philosophical principles to the 21st-century workplace, however, manifests some angst around gender and generation in this film.Despite the film’s apparent advocacy of successful working women, Jules too comes to prefer Ben’s model of corporeal control and masculinity. Ben is someone who makes Jules “feel calm, more centred or something. I could use that, obviously,” she quips. After he leads the almost undifferentiated younger employees Jason, Davis, and Lewis on a physical email rescue, Jules presents her theory of men amidst shots at a bar to celebrate their heist:Jules: So, we were always told that we could be anything, do anything, and I think guys got, maybe not left behind but not quite as nurtured, you know? I mean, like, we were the generation of You go, Girl. We had Oprah. And I wonder sometimes how guys fit in, you know they still seem to be trying to figure it out. They’re still dressing like little boys, they’re still playing video games …Lewis: Well they’ve gotten great.Davis: I love video games.Ben: Oh boy.Jules: How, in one generation, have men gone from guys like Jack Nicholson and Harrison Ford to … [Lewis, Davis, and Jason look down at themselves]Jules: Take Ben, here. A dying breed. Look and learn boys, because if you ask me, this is what cool is.Jules’s excessive drinking in this scene, which is followed by her vomiting into a rubbish bin, appears to reinforce Ben’s stable sobriety, alongside the culture of excess and rapid change associated with Jules through her gender and generation.Jules’s adoption of Ben as the model of masculinity is timely, given that she consistently encounters “sexism in business.” After every meeting with a potential CEO Jules complains of their patronising approach—calling her company a “chick site,” for example. And yet Ben echoes the sartorial style of the 1960s Mad Men era, which is suffused with sexism. The tension between Ben’s modelling of old-fashioned chivalry and those outdated sexist businessmen who never appear on-screen remains linked, however, through the iconography of the suit. In his book Mediated Nostalgia, Lizardi notes a similar tendency in contemporary media for what he calls “presentist versions of the past […] that represent a simpler time” (6) where viewers are constructed as ”uncritical citizens of our own culture” (1). By heroising Ben as a model of white middle-class managerial masculinity that is nostalgically enduring and endearing, this film betrays a yearning for such a “simpler time,” despite the complexities that hover just off-screen.Indeed, most of the other male characters in the film are found wanting in comparison to the retro masculinity of Ben. Jules’s husband Matt appears to be a perfect modern “stay-at-home-dad” who gives up his career for Jules’s business start-up. Yet he is found to be having an affair with one of the school mums. Lewis’s clothes are also condemned by Ben: “Why doesn’t anyone tuck anything in anymore?” he complains. Jason does not know how to speak to his love-interest Becky, expecting that texting and emailing sad emoticons will suffice, and Davis is unable to find a place to live. Luckily Ben can offer advice and tutelage to these men, going so far as to house Davis and give him one of his “vintage” ties to wear. Jules endorses this, saying she loves men in ties.The BriefcaseIf a feature of Ben’s experienced managerial style is longevity and stability, then these values are also attached to his briefcase. The association between Ben and his briefcase is established when the briefcase is personified during preparations for Ben’s first day: “Back in action,” Ben tells it. According to Atkinson, the briefcase is a “signifier of executive status […] entwined with a ‘macho mystique’ of concealed technology” (192). He ties this to the emergence of Cold War spy films like James Bond and traces it to the development of the laptop computer. This mix of mobility, concealment, glamour, and a touch of playboy adventurousness in a mass-produced material product manifested the values of the corporate world in latter 20th-century work culture and rendered the briefcase an important part of executive masculinity. Ben’s briefcase is initially indicative of his anachronistic position in All About Fit. While Davis opens his canvas messenger bag to reveal a smartphone, charger, USB drive, multi-cable connector, and book, Ben mirrors this by taking out his glasses case, set of pens, calculator, fliptop phone, and travel clock. Later in the film he places a print newspaper and leather bound book back into the case. Despite the association with a pre-digital age, the briefcase quickly becomes a product associated with Ben’s retro style. Lewis, at the next computer console, asks about its brand:Ben: It’s a 1973 Executive Ashburn Attaché. They don’t make it anymore.Lewis: I’m a little in love with it.Ben: It’s a classic Lewis. It’s unbeatable.The attaché case is left over from Ben’s past in executive management as VP for sales and advertising. This was a position he held for twenty years, during his past working life, which was spent with the same company for over 40 years. Ben’s long-serving employment record has the same values as his equally long-serving attaché case: it is dependable, reliable, ages well, and outlasts changes in fashion.The kind of nostalgia invested in Ben and his briefcase is reinforced extradiagetically through the musical soundtracks associated with him. Compared to the undifferentiated upbeat tracks at the workplace, Ben’s scenes feature a slower-paced sound from another era, including Ray Charles, Astrud Gilberto, Billie Holiday, and Benny Goodman. These classics are a point of connection with Jules, who declares that she loves Billie Holiday. Yet Jules is otherwise characterised by upbeat, even frantic, timing. She hates slow talkers, is always on the move, and is renowned for being late for meetings and operating on what is known as “Jules Standard Time.” In contrast, like his music, Ben is always on time: setting two alarm clocks each night, driving shorter and more efficient routes, seeing things at just the right time, and even staying at work until the boss leaves. He is reliable, steady, and orderly. He restores order both to the office junk desk and to the desk of Jules’s personal assistant Becky. These characteristics of order and timeliness are offered as an alternative to the chaos of 21st-century global flows of fashion marketing. Like his longevity, time is measured and managed around Ben. Even his name echoes that veritable keeper of time, Big Ben.The HandkerchiefThe handkerchief is another anachronistic object that Ben routinely carries, concealed inside his suit rather than flamboyantly worn on the outside pocket. A neatly ironed square of white hanky, it forms a notable part of Ben’s closet, as Davis notices and enquires about:Davis: Okay what’s the deal with the handkerchief? I don’t get that at all.Ben: It’s essential. That your generation doesn’t know that is criminal. The reason for carrying a handkerchief is to lend it. Ask Jason about this. Women cry Davis. We carry it for them. One of the last vestiges of the chivalrous gent.Indeed, when Jules’s personal assistant Becky bursts into tears because her skills and overtime go unrecognised, Ben is able to offer the hanky to Jason to give her as a kind of white flag, officially signaling a ceasefire between Becky and Jason. This scene is didactic: Ben is teaching Jason how to talk to a woman with the handkerchief as a material prop to prompt the occasion. He also offers advice to Becky to keep more regular hours, and go out and have fun (with Jason, obviously). Despite Becky declaring she “hates girls who cry at work,” this reaction to the pressures of a contemporary work culture that is irregular, chaotic, and never-ending is clearly marking gender, as the handkerchief also marks a gendered transaction of comfort.The handkerchief functions as a material marker of the “chivalrous gent” partly due to the number of times women are seen to cry in this film. In one of Ben’s first encounters with Jules she is crying in a boardroom, when it is suggested that she find a CEO to manage the company. Ben is clearly embarrassed, as is Jules, indicating the inappropriateness of such bodily emissions at work and reinforcing the emotional currency of women in the workplace. Jules again cries while discussing her marriage crisis with Ben, a scene in which Ben comments it is “the one time when he doesn’t have a hanky.” By the end of the film, when Jules and Matt are reconciling, she suggests: “It would be great if you were to carry a handkerchief.” The remaking of modern men into the retro style of Ben is more fully manifested in Davis who is depicted going to work on the last day in the film in a suit and tie. No doubt a handkerchief lurks hidden within.ConclusionThe yearning that emerges for a masculinity of yesteryear means that the intern in this film, Ben Whittaker, becomes an internal moral compass who reminds us of rapid social changes in gender and work, and of their discomfits. That this should be mapped onto an older, white, heterosexual, male body is unsurprising, given the authority traditionally invested in such bodies. Ben’s retro masculinity, however, is a fantasy from a fictional yesteryear, without the social or political forces that render those times problematic; instead, his material culture is fetishised and stripped of political analysis. Ben even becomes the voice of feminism, correcting Jules for taking the blame for Matt’s affair. Buchbinder argues that the more recent manifestations in film and television of “inadequate or incomplete” masculinity can be understood as “enacting a resistance to or even a refusal of the coercive pressure of the gender system” (235, italics in original), and yet The Intern’s yearning for a slow, orderly, mature, and knowing male hero refuses much space for alternative younger models. Despite this apparently unerring adulation of retro masculinity, however, we are reminded of the sexist social culture that suits, briefcases, and handkerchiefs materialise every time Jules encounters one of the seasoned CEOs jostling to replace her. The yearning for a stable masculinity in this film comes at the cost of politicising the past, and imagining alternative models for the future.ReferencesAtkinson, Paul. “Man in a Briefcase: The Social Construction of the Laptop Computer and the Emergence of a Type Form.” Journal of Design History 18.2 (2005): 191-205. Buchbinder, David. “Enter the Schlemiel: The Emergence of Inadequate of Incompetent Masculinities in Recent Film and Television.” Canadian Review of American Studies 38.2 (2008): 227-245.Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble. New York: Routledge, 1990.Connell, R.W. Masculinities. 2nd ed. Cambridge: Polity Press, 2005.Edwards, Tim. Fashion in Focus: Concepts, Practices and Politics. London: Routledge, 2010.Gatens, Moira. Imaginary Bodies: Ethics, Power and Corporeality. New York: Routledge, 1996.Gilleard, Chris, and Paul Higgs. Ageing, Corporeality and Embodiment. London: Anthem, 2014.Lizardi, Ryan. Mediated Nostalgia: Individual Memory and Contemporary Mass Media. London: Lexington Books, 2015.Longhurst, Robyn. Bodies: Exploring Fluid Boundaries. London: Routledge, 2001.Meyers, Nancy, dir. The Intern. Warner Bros. Pictures, 2015.Turkle, Sherry. “The Things That Matter.” Evocative Objects: Things We Think With. Ed. Sherry Turkle. Cambridge MA: MIT Press, 2007.Turner, Graeme. Film as Social Practice. 3rd ed. London: Routledge, 2002.Veenstra, Aleit, and Giselinde Kuipers. “It Is Not Old-Fashioned, It Is Vintage: Vintage Fashion and the Complexities of 21st Century Consumption Practices.” Sociology Compass 7.5 (2013): 355-365.

Culture is a mercurial concept -- volatile, contested, and somehow, less than the sum of its parts. Its anthropology, it can be argued, was rooted in an exoticising scholarship typical of the late 19th-century colonialist ruminations on all things "other"; in contemporary terms of course, this exoticising tendency would be termed, as it should, "Orientalist". Still, there is something more than merely residual in the persistence of a notion of culture as a summary, as a package of knowledge and practice, as a name for identity, or even politics, all of which draw clearly from the well of Edward B. Tylor's bold attempt to terminologically and conceptually capture "the most complex whole", a people's entire way of life (albeit non-white, non-literate, non-western people) from what we can trust were the considerable comforts of his armchair. This Tylorean notion of culture, as Clifford Geertz once suggested, leads to a "conceptual morass" that "obscures a great deal more than it reveals" (4). Another definitional foundation of culture for consideration is the philosophical tradition of German Idealism. Culture as a process of aesthetic education was for Friedrich Schiller a means of progressing from a state of nature to a state of reason without the destruction of nature. Schiller offered a critique of Kant's account of the development of reason (the achievement of the state of rationality as key to the education and progress of humanity) as necessarily predicated on the containment and ultimately, the destruction of nature (against the chaos and moral abyss that is nature). Schiller argued for the capacity of art to infuse nature with morality, to serve as an intermediary of sorts, between chaotic nature and the structures of pure reason. It is the cultivation of moral character -- Bildung -- that is the foundation of this capacity, and that defines the nature and purpose of "culture" as a process of aesthetic education. There were two influential trajectories that seem inspired by this philosophical source. First, there was an important sense from the German Idealists that culture was a determining principle of nation (the nation-state is achieved through Bildung, through cultivation), and accordingly, culture was understood as the source of nationhood. Second, culture took on the sense of moral authority, an Arnoldian equation of culture with high culture and a concomitant mistrust of all things democratic and popular, which debase and ultimately threaten the authority of high culture. Raymond Williams's reinterpretation of culture merits attention because of its departure from previous traditions of defining culture, and because it is a useful foundation for the view of culture proposed later in this discussion. Williams offered a detailed historical analysis of the reasons for the under-theorisation of the British labour movement, and the glaring dislocation of the English proletariat from the ideas, the concepts, the political theory of capitalism. Actual working classes in Britain, the "lived culture" of workers, fit neither into broad political theoretical currents, nor into an examination of workers as elements in a historical process -- this lived culture defied the embrace of political analysis. Williams argued for a more anthropological view of culture, and decisively shifted the concept away from the British literary-cultural tradition, away from Arnold's "high culture", to a view of culture as a whole way of life, and open to the vision and the possibilities of social integration, popular classes, and popular struggles in ordinary, everyday life. Williams argued compellingly for the "ordinariness" of culture. As Bill Readings notes, "Williams's insistence that culture is ordinary was a refusal to ignore the actual working classes in favor of the liberated proletarians who were to be their successors after the revolution" (92). In this sense, culture confounds political theory -- or to stretch the point, culture confounds systematic theorising. In a similar vein, and in a classic of anthropological inquiry, Clifford Geertz argued that the analysis of culture was "not an experimental science in search of law, but an interpretive one in search of meaning" (4). Such an "interpretive" project demands above all, that that the analyst is also a participant in a dimension of the culture she/he is describing. I want to consider two of Geertz's assertions in his interpretive theory of culture to frame my proposal for a concept of culture-as-action. Geertz maintained that cultural analysis is guesswork rather than systematic theorising, which he regarded as a manipulation or reconstruction of reality through analytical practices in search of elegant schemata. Cultural analysis is "guessing at meanings, assessing the guesses, and drawing explanatory conclusions from the better guesses, not discovering the Continent of Meaning and mapping out its bodiless landscape" (20). Clearly, Geertz trained his critical sights on anthropological trends to extrapolate from material data singularly coherent, even symmetrical systems, orders, properties, and universals in a method that wants to imitate, but is not science. Interpretation resists scientism. In a second assertion, Geertz argued that any sustained symbolic action -- the stuff of culture -- is "saying something of something" (448-53). While this assertion appears disarmingly simple, it is profound in its implications. It points to the possibility that cultural analysis, if it is to grasp and interpret layered, textured, and often thoroughly complex significations, must attend to "semantics" rather than "mechanics"; the representation of the substance of culture, its symbolic expressive forms and its unfolding action, rather than the insinuation, or even the bold declaration of systems and formulas, however elegant, of cultural patterns and process. The concern in interpretation -- a form of representation -- is that "a good interpretation of anything -- a poem, a person, a history, a ritual, an institution, a society -- takes us into the heart of that of which it is the interpretation" (18). To describe culture is to attend to action -- actual and resonant -- and such descriptions representations have responsibility; specifically, they must seek to grasp and portray social discourse and its possible meanings in ways that allow symbolic action -- the vocabulary of culture -- to speak on its own behalf. We arrived back in Lahore after a day's journey by jeep over the bone-dry and dusty roads of rural Punjab. The air was a toxic soup, and the heat was crushing, as it always is in Pakistan in monsoon season. The interior of the vehicle was an oven, and I was feeling sealed and cooked, even with all the windows open. My friend and driver, Ashicksahib and I were soaked with sweat from the journey, and we were eager to finally get out of the jeep as we pulled into the city in the late afternoon. I had been through a half dozen bottles of water, but I still felt dizzy with dehydration. I knew that this day was the celebration of Mohammed's birthday, and while I expected many people on the streets, I was unprepared for the magnitude of the event that was taking place. The crowds consumed us. We crawled along until we couldn't continue. The jeep had to stop as the sea of celebrants became denser and denser inside the city, and Ashicksahib shrugged his massive shoulders, smiled at me from under his thick white moustache, wiped his neck with a sodden cloth, and said in Urdu, "That's it, we cannot move, there's nowhere for us to go. We must be patient." I had never seen this much humanity gathered in a single place before. There were only boys and men of course, thousands and thousands of them moving along in joyous procession -- on foot, piled on platforms of flatbed trucks, stuffed into rickshaws, two or three sharing scooters and bicycles. The usual animal multitudes -- herds of water buffalo, goats, some camels, the ubiquitous miserable and thread- bare donkeys with their carts -- all stood passively in the midst of the chaos, too exhausted or too confused to register any instinctive response. Blasting loudspeakers competed from a hundred different directions, chants and patriotic music, prayers and devotional declarations, the staccato delivery of fundamentalist pedagogy and the improvised reveries of individuals with small bullhorns. The soft drink vendors shouted to the crowds to make way as they spun their carts around over and over again, and darted off into fray. I brought out my camera, and because the noise was deafening, I mimed to Ashicksahib my intention to take some photos from the roof of the jeep. He motioned with an affirmative sweep of his hand and the typical and essential south Asian head roll, and I pried open the door and squeezed out against the celebrants pressed up to the side of the jeep. I hoisted myself onto the roof and sat cross-legged to steady myself for some wide- angle shots of the celebrations. I had some concern over my obviousness -- white and western -- but everyone who saw me shouted greetings in Urdu or Punjabi, waved and smiled, and young boys ran up very close to the jeep to see what I was up to. I heard Ashicksahib laughing, and all seemed safe -- until the squadrons of Sunni fundamentalists caught sight of me as their trucks crawled by in a formation that seemed remarkably disciplined and militaristic in the direct contrast to the emotionalism and formlessness of the event. Like the wave in a sports stadium, the young men stood up one by one on the back of the trucks, their green turbans cut into the indefinite wash of a grey, polluted sky, their eyes searching until they fixed on me, now exposed and vulnerable on the roof of the jeep. And quickly they leapt from their trucks like a SWAT team responding crisply to a crisis, precise and efficient, jaws clenched, cocked for action. I saw them first through the lens of my camera, and uttered an expletive or two appropriate to the situation. I knew I was in trouble, and clearly, I had nowhere to go. The turbans formed a green ribbon winding through the mass. As they approached, the eyes of the militants were trained on me with the focus of a predator about to take down its prey. I slipped back into the jeep through the window, and motioned for Ashicksahib to look over the crowd and see the slow and steady movement of the green turbans toward us. His smile vanished instantly, and he readied himself for confrontation. When the first militant reached the jeep's window, Ashicksahib's entire body was taut and urgent, like a finger twitching on the trigger of a pistol. "American! American! No photo! No photo!" The leader of the group shouted at me in English and began to bang the side of the jeep. Ten or twelve young men, eyes flaring under their turbans, screamed at me and joined in the assault on the jeep. Ashicksahib had waited for a particular moment, it occurred to me later, a certain point in the rising arc of tension and emotion. He opened his door, but did not leave the jeep. Instead he stood on the step on the driver's side, half in and half out, slowly unfurled his considerable frame to its full height, and began his verbal assault. He stood on his perch above the action and in a play of passions, he shouted his opponents into submission. There were a few physical sorties by the militants, attempts to kick the door of the jeep into Ashicksahib, but these were displays, and Ashicksahib kicked back only once. And suddenly they wavered, an erosion of spirit evidenced in their eyes, a bending to the force roaring above them. They gave up their attempts to grab my camera, to gain entry to the jeep, and with a swift gesture of his hand, the leader called his small army into retreat. This same festival that mobilised great masses of people in celebration, that enacted the inextricableness of nationalist and Pakistani Muslim commitment and identity, that on the surface appeared to articulate and demonstrate a collective belief and purpose, also dramatised conflictive divisions and the diverse interpretations of what it means to be a Pakistani, a Muslim, a Punjabi, an Indus person, a Lahori, a poor person, a person of means, and numerous other identities at stake. As an obvious westerner in the midst of the event, I was variously ignored, warmly greeted as a friendly foreigner, or accosted as an unwelcome interloper, each interaction unfolding within a broader and deeper passionate ritual which for some meant play and celebration, and for others meant a serious and forceful demonstration of affiliation, faith, and nationalism. I had been working in both village and urban contexts on issues and strategies around communication/education and advocacy with South Asia Partnership-Pakistan, a non-government organisation based in Lahore that was engaged in front-line work for social change. The organisation was driven by the pursuit of the principles of civil society, and on a daily basis, it contended with the brutal contradictions to those principles. Its work was carried out against a bulwark of poverty and fundamentalism that seemed impenetrable, and this moment of imminent confrontation resonated with the complex historical, cultural, and political dynamics of identity, religion, nationalism, colonialism, and a seething cauldron of south Asian geopolitics. As Paulo Freire argued that world views are manifested in actions that offer insight into broader and prevailing social and political conditions, so Geertz maintained that societies "contain their own interpretations". This was not essentialism -- there were none of the conceits or romanticism of essentialist readings of the commonplace as encapsulated social and political axioms. Rather, these views were a call for analytical honesty, a participatory and political dimension to cultural analysis that works to gain some access to these "interpretations" by encountering and apprehending culture in forms of action. Cultural analysis becomes a kind of trial-by-fire, a description from a viewpoint of participatory engagement. By "participatory", I mean everything that the bloodlessness and obfuscation of so much of Cultural Studies is not -- an actual stake in action and consequence in a real world of politics. The interpretation of culture is valuable when it attends to action rather than theoretical insinuation; to cultural volatility and contingency, and the broad determinants of social discourse rather than schemata and structure as critical ends. Interpretation has a participatory dimension -- an involvement, an engagement with culture described and interpreted -- which eschews the privilege of theory unimpeded by empirical evidence. References Freire, Paulo. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Harmondsworth. Penguin, 1972. Geertz, Clifford. The Interpretation of Cultures. New York: Basic Books, 1973. Readings, Bill. The University in Ruins. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1996. Schiller, Friedrich. Notes on the Aesthetic Education of Man. Trans. E.M. Wilkinson and L.A. Willoughby. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1967. Tylor, Edward B. Primitive Culture: Researches into the Development of Mythology, Philosophy, Religion, Language, Art and Customes. 2 vol. New York: Henry Holt, 1877. Williams, Raymond. "Culture is Ordinary". Resources of Hope: Culture, Democracy, Socialism. Ed. Robin Gable. London: Verso, 1989. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Martin Laba. "Culture as Action." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3.2 (2000). [your date of access] <http://www.api- network.com/mc/0005/action.php>. Chicago style: Martin Laba, "Culture as Action," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3, no. 2 (2000), <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0005/action.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Martin Laba. (2000) Culture as action. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3(2). <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0005/action.php> ([your date of access]).