Journal articles on the topic 'Doyle Collection'

In the paper we study a family of modal nonmonotonic logics closely related to the family of modal nonmonotonic logics proposed by McDermott and Doyle. For a modal logic S and a fixed collection of formulas X we introduce the notion of an ( S, X)-expansion. We restrict to modal logics which have a complete Kripke semantics. We study the properties of ( S, X)-expansions and show that in many respects they are analogous to the properties of S-expansions in nonmonotonic modal logics of McDermott and Doyle.

AbstractThe original description of the large and characteristic belemnite species Arctoteuthis bluethgeni Doyle was based on fragmentary material from a relatively uncertain stratigraphic interval in Kong Karls Land, Svalbard. Recent collection of a belemnite assemblage in the Lower Cretaceous Rurikfjellet Formation on Spitsbergen include numerous complete specimens, allowing a detailed description of the species. With the exception of a specimen reported from Arctic Canada, its distribution is restricted to Svalbard. Its stratigraphic range appears to be restricted to the upper Valanginian – lower Hauterivian from ages obtained from palynostratigraphy. A. bluethgeni is therefore considered to be a useful Lower Cretaceous guide fossil in the Boreal High Arctic.

Arthur Conan Doyle famously popularised science in his series of detective stories by placing its three constitutive elements (scientific knowledge, the collection of evidence, and art of making inferences), in his protagonist Sherlock Holmes. The legacy is present in contemporary crime fiction, but the competencies have been distributed among a group of individuals involved in the investigation. This distribution has affected and changed the position of the detective vis-à-vis scientific expertise. Science, chiefly in the form of different branches of forensics, is as indispensable as the detective, and authors have been working out different ways of making the two work together. As an example of this cooperation, the paper examines Mark Billingham’s 2015 novel Time of Death.

Recent efforts have been made to increase our understanding of the dynamics of ice-sheet hydrology. Notably, much work has focused on the southwest sector of the Greenland ice sheet (GrIS), with intense data collection on diurnal to interannual timescales (e.g. Bartholomew and others, 2012; Cowton and others, 2013; Doyle and others, 2013). Observations show a close correlation between surface meltwater production and the seasonal ice-sheet acceleration, and it is a well-accepted hypothesis that an increase in the former drives the latter via meltwater transfer through the subglacial drainage system (e.g. Zwally and others, 2002). However, due to the remote nature and complexity of the subglacial domain, a satisfactory description at the process level has remained elusive. Better understanding of the coupling of meltwater forcing on ice velocity through the subglacial component is therefore necessary to improve the physical integrity of ice-sheet models.

This statement is an opening point for the discussion on the effects of the dominance of English as a language of science on other languages and speech communities. The global search for a common auxiliary language that allows unprecedented possibilities for international cooperation, and the resulting prevalence and dominance of English in science, vary in kind and degree, as well as in effects, across language communities and countries. The volume under review is an outstanding one with respect to both thematic diversity and depth of analysis in most of its essays. Since Fishman et al. 1977 edited the first collection of essays on the spread of English, numerous valuable books on the status of English as a global language have been published (Flaitz 1988, Doyle 1989, Kachru 1992, Pennycook 1994, Hartmann 1996, Fishman et al. 1996, Crystal 1997, Ryan & Zuber-Skerritt 1999), but there is no doubt that Ulrich Ammon has edited an extremely innovative and insightful volume.

The DNA extraction is one of the first steps and plays animportant role in study on genome of any species on earth. Depending on the purpose and object of study, DNA can be extracted from various tissues.For plants, DNA is usually extracted from the leaves, seeds and young buds, in which these tissues are the best DNA source and can be extracted easily. However, the collection of sample from mature trees, which are generally tall, isdifficult and need more facilities. Consequently, it leads to be limited for the study scope.The proposed solutionis to use a wood tissue instead ofthe leaves, seeds and young due to they are easily collected. The problem is very difficult to extract high quality DNA from the wood tissue (Verbylaite et al., 2010). However, if the extraction of DNA from wood tissue would besuccessful, it would open up many research directions and could turn techniques that seemed unfeasible before into the effective solution. Extracting and analyzing DNA from dried wood and processed wood could be developed to explore the possibility of identifying the species and theirorigin. This could be greatly useful for determining the legality of wood log and wood products, and for deterring trade in illegal wood products (Tsumura et al.,2011). Currently, there are some commercialized kits, enabling DNA extraction from wood more easily,e.g. DNeasy Plant Mini Kit (Qiagen), Nucleospin Plant II (Macherey-Nagel), Genomic DNA Purification Kit (Fermentas) and innuPREP Plant DNA Kit (Analytik Jena). However, the commercial Kitsare expensive. Meanwhile, there are some cheaper methods, applying for DNA extraction from wood successfully, such as SDS method (Edwards et al.,1991; Goodwin and Lee, 1993), protein precipitation protocol (Dellaporta et al., 1983; Fang et al., 1992), especially CTAB method, obtaining with a high DNA concentration (Doyle J and Doyle H., 1987). The DNA extracted by CTAB protocol is less pure; however, they are still suitable to use in molecular biology. The objective of this work was to optimize the conditions of CTAB protocol for DNA extraction from wood. The two parameters centrifugation time and volume ratio of isopropanol to solutions containing DNA that affect the yield and quality DNA were explored using the response surface methodology (RSM). The central composite design (CCD) was used to obtain the experimental design matrix. This approach has limited number of actual experiments performed where as allowing probing into possible interaction between these parameters studied and their effect on quantity and quality DNA.

This paper reflects on the key issues of literary translation approaches suggested by Mykola Dmytrenko, an outstanding Ukrainian prose translator. Despite the vast research made by Ukrainian and foreign scholars regarding the translation (A. Bennet, S. Bassnet, M. Strykha) little is known about the contribution made by Ukrainian translators to the promotion of the Ukrainian literature on the international arena. Mykola Dmytrenko’s original arguments coming from value-based interview questions reveal the nature of translating process in terms of cultural transfer with a special emphasis on the literary standards and the distinctive nature of translation paradigm. As many translation theorists and researchers claim, there has been an accepted recognition of the fact that the use of the strategies and techniques of contemporary linguistics shift away to cultural studies. This article attempts to outline the scope of translation as a process by syndicating various extralinguistic phenomena as they occur in Mykola Dmytrenko’s translation project. Firstly, his translation programme embraces the issues of self with their close relation to the problems of cultural identity and the ones connected with tracing the target text within its new sociocultural context. Secondly, Mykola Dmytrenko’s translations provide his exceptional position in developing general principles through which he adequately clarifies the algorithm of choosing literary texts for translation and sheds light on the author selection as well as the ways literary translation networks function in a number of respects. Furthermore, the translator aims his works to be viewed in a broader context of building up the relations with the author of the original on the equal basis so that the target reader would feel he deals with the original text, not with the translation. With this purpose, Mykola Dmytrenko claims that he not only aspires to getting Ukrainian readers acquainted with the masterpieces of world literature, but also aims to develop the ability of cultivating their deductive skills as well as sharpening observation and forming the power of imagination. These explicate the reasons for the translator’s selection of literary texts by A. C. Doyle («A Scandal in Bohemia», «The Red-headed League», «A Case of Identity», «Boscombe Valley Mystery», «Thе Five Orange Pips», etc.). All these have been illustrated by the examples from A. Conan Doyle’s collection of detective stories «The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes» («The Reigate Puzzle»). So, the translator’s pragmatic view comes to be both from an inborn talent and a professional skill to produce the target text of the highest quality.

Every civilization has knowledge about health. From the beginning until now the most vulnerable groups in terms of health are toddlers and pregnant women. In the Wakatobi community, the health of children or toddlers is also an important aspect that is a priority of the local government to improve the quality of children's lives. In an effort to improve the quality of life for toddlers, the Wakatobi community has a culture as a traditional stunting that has been growing and developing in the community. This study used an ethnographic approach, so the data collection of data analysis uses ethnographic principles. This approach was expected to reveal how the Wakatobi community views health and quality of life for toddlers. The results of this study indicated that the Wakatobi community has had a traditional earrings concept called the Hedole Dole. Through the Hedole Dole ritual, toddlers have special treatment from a sando or traditional birth attendant. After experiencing the Dole Dole ritual, Wakatobi children possessed strong endurance. They will have strong endurance to fight various weather changes. Wakatobi believes and believes that this tradition has improved the quality of life and endurance of their toddlers. They also assume that healthy children are children who have a healthy body and mind. Wakatobi people think that through the ritual tradition of Dole Dole food can have a strong immune system. The process of their idols will be given various types of herbs and treatments that make their bodies stronger and resistant to various diseases.

Abstract Background ST258 K. pneumoniae and ST131 E. coli clones are considered vectors for the global spread of multidrug resistance. We evaluated the activity of β-lactams in combination with QPX7728, a novel β-lactamase inhibitor active against all β-lactamase classes, against a collection of 210 isolates belonging to these clones collected from a worldwide surveillance study. Methods A total of 118 ST258 K. pneumoniae and 92 ST131 E. coli (single loci variant also included) were susceptibility tested by reference broth microdilution against various β-lactams ± QPX7728 and comparator agents. All isolates were screened for β-lactamases using whole genome sequencing analysis. Results All β-lactam agents had limited activity against 118 ST258 K. pneumoniae (1.7–7.6% susceptible). Among these, 104 carried carbapenemase-encoding genes: 66 KPC variants, 20 NDM and 17 OXA-48-like. One isolate carried 2 carbapenemases. The addition of QPX7728 at 4 mg/L or 8 mg/L lowered the MICs for cefepime (MIC50/90, 0.25/1 mg/L and MIC50/90, 0.12/0.5 mg/L), ceftolozane (MIC50/90, 0.5/ > 32 mg/L and MIC50/90, 0.25/16 mg/L), ertapenem (MIC50/90, 0.12/2 mg/L and MIC50/90, 0.06/0.5 mg/L), and meropenem (MIC50/90, 0.06/0.5 mg/L and MIC50/90, 0.03/0.12 mg/L; Table). QPX7728 at 4 mg/L reduced the ceftibuten (MIC50/90, 0.25/8 mg/L) or tebipenem (MIC50/90, 0.12/2 mg/L) MICs for ST258 isolates. E. coli ST131 carried mainly CTX-M variant (85 isolates), but 6 isolates harbored carbapenemases. Carbapenems were the only β-lactams displaying > 80.0% activity against ST131 E. coli, followed by piperacillin-tazobactam (79.3% susceptible). Only 5.4%and 41.3% ST131 isolates were susceptible to cefepime and ceftibuten, respectively. MIC50/MIC90 values for these agents with QPX7728 were ≤ 0.015/≤ 0.015 mg/L for cefepime and ≤ 0.015/0.06 mg/L for ceftolozane with the inhibitor at 8 mg/L and ≤ 0.015/0.03 mg/L for ceftibuten with the inhibitor at 4 mg/L. Conclusion QPX7728 lowered the MICs for all agents tested to clinically achievable levels when tested against isolates multidrug resistant belonging to important clones responsible to the dissemination of KPC, CTX variants, and metallo-β-lactamases. The development of this broad β-lactamase inhibitor should be pursued. Table 1 Disclosures Mariana Castanheira, PhD, 1928 Diagnostics (Research Grant or Support)A. Menarini Industrie Farmaceutiche Riunite S.R.L. (Research Grant or Support)Allergan (Research Grant or Support)Allergan (Research Grant or Support)Amplyx Pharmaceuticals (Research Grant or Support)Cidara Therapeutics (Research Grant or Support)Cidara Therapeutics (Research Grant or Support)Cipla Ltd. (Research Grant or Support)Cipla Ltd. (Research Grant or Support)Fox Chase Chemical Diversity Center (Research Grant or Support)GlaxoSmithKline (Research Grant or Support)Melinta Therapeutics, Inc. (Research Grant or Support)Melinta Therapeutics, Inc. (Research Grant or Support)Melinta Therapeutics, Inc. (Research Grant or Support)Merck (Research Grant or Support)Merck (Research Grant or Support)Merck & Co, Inc. (Research Grant or Support)Merck & Co, Inc. (Research Grant or Support)Paratek Pharma, LLC (Research Grant or Support)Pfizer (Research Grant or Support)Qpex Biopharma (Research Grant or Support) Jill Lindley, Allergan (Research Grant or Support)Qpex Biopharma (Research Grant or Support) Timothy B. Doyle, Allergan (Research Grant or Support)Allergan (Research Grant or Support)Cipla Ltd. (Research Grant or Support)Melinta Therapeutics, Inc. (Research Grant or Support)Pfizer (Research Grant or Support)Qpex Biopharma (Research Grant or Support) Olga Lomovskaya, PhD, Qpex Biopharma (Employee)

Barley leaf rust, caused by Puccinia hordei Otth., has been problematic in United States barley (Hordeum vulgare L.) production in the Mid-Atlantic coast region and California. During the early 1990s, P. hordei pathotypes with virulence to resistance gene Rph7 caused average yield losses from 6 to 16% (3). ‘Doyce’ barley was released in 2003 and was described as being resistant to leaf rust (2). Initially in April 2010 and subsequently in spring 2011 and 2012, high severities and infection responses were observed on experimental plots of ‘Doyce’ in Warsaw and Blacksburg, Virginia. Three single uredinial isolates of P. hordei were derived from collections made from ‘Doyce’ barley. The isolates were characterized for virulence to barley leaf rust resistance genes by inoculating at least two replicates of a barley leaf rust differential set including 12 Rph genes (1). Previous methods used for inoculation, incubation, and pathotyping were followed (1). Infection types were scored on a 0 to 4 scale where 2 and below indicated resistance and 3 and above indicated susceptibility (4). The three isolates collected from Doyce barley displayed large pustules with infection types 3,3+ to cultivars Estate (Rph3) and Cebada Capa (Rph7). Avirulent isolates of P. hordei displayed infection types 0; to 0;1c to Estate and ;n to 0;1n to Cebada Capa (1). The data indicated that all three isolates were virulent to both barley leaf rust resistance genes Rph3 and Rph7. Though combined Rph3 and Rph7 virulence has been reported in the Mediterranean region, this is the first report of Rph3 virulence in North America. These isolates of P. hordei are virulent to important sources of resistance to barley leaf rust and threaten barley production in environments conducive for disease development in North America. References: (1) W. S. Brooks et al. Phytopathology 90:1131, 2000. (2) W. S. Brooks et al. Crop Sci. 45:792, 2005. (3) C. A. Griffey et al. Plant Dis. 78:256, 1994. (4) M. N. Levine and W. J. Cherewick. U.S. Dept. Agric. Tech. Bull. 1056, 1952.

El presente trabajo examina las principales aportaciones realizadas a la investigación de la inmigración extranjera aplicando el análisis de redes sociales, fundamentalmente en el contexto español. Para ello, se emplea una doble perspectiva. Por un lado, se atiende a la aproximación metodológica particular utilizada en la recogida de datos y en las técnicas estadísticas usadas para su análisis. Por otro, se ubican los trabajos en los ejes temáticos principales identificados. Previamente, se contextualiza la cuestión en el debate más general sobre redes migratorias y capital social, se presentan algunos conceptos sobre el análisis de redes y se proporcionan algunas claves sobre la recogida de datos reticulares y las técnicas más apropiadas para su explotación. Por último, se sugieren las fortalezas de esta perspectiva metodológica y las limitaciones a las que se enfrenta su utilización.In this paper, the main contributions to the research on foreign migration through the application of social network analysis are examined, especially for the Spanish context. A dual perspective is used. On one hand, the focus is on the specific methodological approach applied for the data collection and the statistical techniques chosen for the analysis. On the other hand, the works are classified according to a proposed thematic division. Previously, the topic is framed in the more general debate about migration networks and social capital, some concepts on network analysis are introduced and some key facts about network data collection and the appropriate techniques for their exploitation are discussed. Finally, the strengths and the limitations of this methodological approach are suggested.

No matter in what currency, money rules personal and financial life to a remarkable degree, and it is not surprising that international and national proverb collections contain a plethora of examples from antiquity to the modern age. Many monetary proverbs were coined in the United States with modern American proverbs reflecting this preoccupation with pecuniary issues quite distinctly. Based on about 110 such proverbs coined after the year 1900 it is shown that they contain folk wisdom regarding business, trade, sales, purchase, payment, price, etc. with money playing a dominant role. This can be seen as a reflection of a general American worldview or mentality stemming from the fact that capitalism is part of the social and economic structure of the country. The proverbs under discussion are from The Dictionary of Modern Proverbs (2012) edited by Charles Doyle, Wolfgang Mieder and Fred Shapiro. Some of the modern proverbs give solid financial advice, especially regarding investment in the stock market. While many of them indicate a definite preoccupation with materialistic matters and an interest in accumulating wealth, there are also proverbs that deal with such socio-economic aspects as the widening schism between richness and poverty. There can be no doubt that money and wealth in all their iterations are part of the American capitalist worldview. There are numerous other components to the image of a general American mentality, but business and finance certainly belong to it.

Abstract:Title of this appointed by the background thinking tends to assume the news radio is the boring, stiff and monotonous and thus author shall select said that the news visible life easier understood listeners and the said right of news. Thus the formula problem in this is how the language used in writing of news Radio Republic Indonesia Kupang on a news areas morning. This watchfulness aims to detect radio language that used in Kupang Republic of Indonesia radionews writing, in region news report programme morning.this watchfulness uses to approach qualitative with a view to get description about language in Kupang Republic of Indonesia Radionews writing in region news report programme morning. data collecting technique that used recording, interview, and documentation Research results that news news still use the word wasteful or not use the sentence brief congested and said there are still doble said a word, there is a foreign language not included meaning, there are error of writing the name of informant, principle of usage punctuation frequently used in writing the news radio not wear Keywords: News, Language, Radio

El objeto de este estudio es la relación de la percepción de la intensidad del entrenamiento de los jugadores con la carga planificada por el cuerpo técnico (doble escala). Participaron 12 jugadores profesionales de fútbol sala español durante toda una temporada de 40 semanas. Para la recogida de datos se utilizó la Escala de Percepción Subjetiva del Esfuerzo creada por Borg. Los valores medios presentaron una diferencia entre la intensidad percibida (14.75±0.47) y la carga planificada (14.40±0.58) de 0.35 puntos, un valor no significativo considerando el rango de 15 puntos de la escala. Los resultados obtenidos mostraron una correlación significativa de r=0.74 entre ambas percepciones. Las correlaciones encontradas en los microciclos de mantenimiento de r=0.87 y en los descendentes de r=0.85 fueron significativas, lo que indica que la intensidad percibida por los jugadores era la que previamente habían planteado los entrenadores. Se ha encontrado una correlación significativa en el método aeróbico (r=0.91), anaeróbico (r=0.83), aláctico (r=0.82), mixto (r=0.80) y específico (r=0.63). Los resultados muestran que la doble escala permite comprobar y establecer la desviación entre la percepción del jugador y del cuerpo técnico y establecer cómo va asimilando las cargas el jugador posibilitando reajustar la misma según la información recibida.Abstrac. The purpose of this study is to investigate the relationship between players’ perceived intensity and the training load planned by the coaching staff (double scale). Participants 12 professional Spanish football players for an entire season of 40 weeks. For data collection, the Scale of Perceived Exertion created by Borg was used. The mean values showed a difference between the perceived intensity (14.75 ± 0.47) and the planned load (14.40 ± 0.58) 0.35 points, an non-significant amount considering the 15 points range of the scale . The results showed a significant correlation of r = 0.74 between the two perceptions. The correlations found in maintenance microcycles, r = 0.87, and in the downstream ones, r = 0.85, were significant, indicating that the intensity perceived by players coincided with what coaches had previously planned. We found a significant correlation in the specific aerobic method (r = 0.91), anaerobic (r = 0.83), alactic (r = 0.82), mixed ( r = 0.80) and specific ( r = 0.63) . The results show that the double scale allows to test and establish the difference between the perception of the player and the coaching staff and establish how the former assimilates loads allowing to adjust then according to the information received.

Resumen: El objetivo del estudio es analizar diferentes tipos de comportamientos sexuales (CS; convencionales diádicos, en solitario, a través de las TIC y no convencionales) que los jóvenes refieren haber realizado o que podrían realizar, y comparar entre hombres y mujeres. Participaron un total de 886 jóvenes heterosexuales entre 18 y 30 años seleccionados mediante muestreo incidental y bola de nieve. Se les aplicó un cuestionario a través de internet que recogía información sobre CS convencionales diádicos, en solitario, a través de las TIC y no convencionales. Una mayor proporción de hombres que de mujeres realizan CS como la masturbación en solitario, fantasear sexualmente, el cibersexo y el trío. Las diferencias se incrementan (también en sexo anal y sexo en grupo) cuando la posibilidad de realizar los CS en un futuro es considerada. Las diferencias en los CS no convencionales y en el cibersexo podrían estar influidas por la doble moral sexual. Estudios recientes evidencian que la doble moral sexual podría estar desapareciendo en los CS convencionales, pero seguir presente en los CS menos convencionales.Palabras clave: comportamientos sexuales convencionales, comportamientos sexuales en solitario, comportamientos sexuales a través de las TIC, comportamientos sexuales no convencionales, jóvenes heterosexuales. Abstract: The aim of the study is to analyse different types of sexual behaviors (SB; conventional dyadic, solitary, via ICT, and unconventional SB) which young people report having performed or could perform, and to establish a comparison between women and men. A total of 886 heterosexual young people between 18 and 30 years selected by incidental and snowball sampling participated. A questionnaire via internet collecting information about conventional dyadic, solitary, via ICT, and unconventional SB was applied. A higher proportion of men than women perform SB such as solitary masturbation, sexual fantasies, cybersex, and threesome. The differences increase when the possibility of performing SB in the future is considered (also in anal sex and group sex). Unconventional SB and cybersex differences may be influenced by sexual double standards. Recent studies show that the sexual double standards may be disappearing for conventional SB, but may still be present for unconventional SB.Keywords: conventional sexual behaviors, solitary sexual behaviors, sexual behaviors via ICT, unconventional sexual behaviors, heterosexual young people.

Objetivo: Evaluar los factores de riesgo para infecciones relacionadas con la asistencia sanitaria causadas por Enterobacteriaceae productoras de carbapenemas.Método: Este es un estudio retrospectivo de casos y controles que consistió en una muestra de 82 pacientes infectados y 164 controles, totalizando 246 pacientes. La recopilación de datos se realizó entre enero y mayo de 2017 mediante la búsqueda en el Sistema Automatizado de Control de Infecciones Hospitalarias y en los registros electrónicos de pacientes.Resultados: Pacientes previamente colonizados con microorganismos gramnegativos (OR: 10.7, 95% CI: 2-60, p=0.007), con cáncer (OR: 20.8, 95% CI: 4-120, p<0.001), utilizando una catéter de doble luz (OR: 30.5, 95% CI: 2-382, p=0.008), con lesión por presión (OR: 136.2, 95% CI: 11- 1623, p<0.001) y permanecer en la Unidad de Cuidados Intensivos (OR: 1.4, 95% CI: 1.2-1.6, p <0.001) fueron más propensos a desarrollar infecciones causadas por Enterobacteriaceae productoras de carbapenemas que el grupo control. El área bajo la curva ROC mostró un buen rendimiento general (0,99; IC 95%: 0,992-0,998) del modelo de regresión logística final.Conclusión: La colonización previa, el cáncer, el uso de catéteres de doble luz, la lesión por presión y la estadía en la UCI fueron factores de riesgo muy importantes para la adquisición de infecciones en el entorno hospitalario. Objective: To evaluate the risk factors for healthcare-associated infections caused by Klebsiella pneumoniae carbapenemase producing Enterobacteriaceae. Method: This is a retrospective case-control study that consisted of a sample of 82 infected patients and 164 controls, totaling 246 patients. Data collection was performed between January and May 2017 through search in the Automated Hospital Infection Control System and in the electronic patient records.Results: Patients previously colonized with gram-negative microorganisms (OR: 10.7, 95% CI: 2-60, p=0.007), with cancer (OR: 20.8, 95% CI: 4-120, p<0.001), using a double lumen catheter (OR: 30.5, 95% CI: 2-382, p=0.008), with pressure injury (OR: 136.2, 95% CI: 11- 1623, p<0.001) and Intensive Care Unit stay (OR: 1.4, 95% CI: 1.2-1.6, p <0.001) had a greater chance of developing Healthcare-associated Infections caused by KPC-producing Enterobacteriaceae than the control group. The area under the ROC curve showed a good overall performance (0.99, 95% CI: 0.992-0.998) of the final logistic regression model. Conclusion: Previous colonization, cancer, double lumen catheter use, pressure injury and ICU stay were very important risk factors for the acquisition of infections in the hospital environment.

ABSTRACT Objective: to identify the perception of young people in relation to the Sexual Double Standard in the context of emotional-sexual experiences. Method: this is about a descriptive study from quantitative approach. Data were collected in a Secondary School in the Alentejo region in 2007, authorization was requested by the Executive Council, mindful of the ethical component of data collection with humans. The study population was the student of the school has been chosen by a random sample of 288 students. The data were collected through self-completion questionnaire, being treated with SPSS version 18.0. Results: boys are more conservative than girls, and according to the data, older people are more conservative, as well as those who have more experiences of intercourse. The study results portray how teenagers live their sexuality, girls who “promise but does not" and the boys with his way of showing their excessive sexuality. However we found that overall the sample is more liberal than traditionalist. Conclusion: the boys differ significantly from that for girls, the differences between attitudes and sexual behaviors according to gender support the permanence of the sexual double standard. Descriptors: gender identity; sexual double standard; sexuality; adolescent; sexual behavior.RESUMOObjetivo: identificar a percepção dos jovens em relação ao Duplo Padrão Sexual no contexto das vivências afetivo-sexuais. Método: estudo descritivo, com abordagem quantitativa. Os dados foram colhidos numa Escola Secundária da região Alentejo/Portugal em 2007, foi solicitada autorização ao Conselho Executivo, tendo presente a componente ética de recolha de dados com seres humanos. A população em estudo foi a dos alunos da instituição escolar tendo-se optado por uma amostra acidental de 288 alunos. Recolheram-se os dados através de questionário de auto-preenchimento, sendo tratados no programa SPSS versão 18.0. Resultados: os rapazes são mais conservadores do que as moças e de acordo com os dados, os mais velhos são mais conservadores, assim como aqueles que têm mais experiencias de coito. Os resultados do estudo retratam a forma como os adolescentes vivem a sua sexualidade, as moças que “promete mas não dá” e os rapazes com a sua forma excessiva de demonstrar a sua sexualidade. No entanto verificámos que no geral a amostra é mais liberal do que tradicionalista. Conclusão: os rapazes diferem significativamente das moças pelo que, as diferenças entre as atitudes e os comportamentos sexuais segundo o gênero apoiam a permanência do duplo padrão sexual. Descritores: identidade de gênero; duplo padrão sexual; sexualidade; adolescente; comportamento sexual.RESUMEN Objetivo: identificar la percepción de los jóvenes en relación con la doble moral sexual en el contexto de las experiencias afectivo-sexual. Método: estudio descriptivo con enfoque cuantitativo. Los datos fueron recolectados en una escuela secundaria en la región de Alentejo en 2007, la autorización fue solicitada por el Consejo Ejecutivo, teniendo en cuenta el componente ético de la recopilación de datos con los seres humanos. La población de estudio fue el estudiante de la escuela ha sido elegida por una muestra aleatoria de 288 estudiantes. Los datos fueron recolectados a través de cuestionario de auto-realización, siendo tratado con el programa SPSS versión 18.0. Resultados: los niños son más conservadoras que las niñas, y de acuerdo a los datos, las personas mayores son más conservadores, así como aquellos que tienen más experiencias de las relaciones sexuales. Los resultados del estudio describen cómo los adolescentes viven su sexualidad, las niñas que "promete, pero no" y los chicos con su manera de mostrar su sexualidad excesiva. Sin embargo, encontramos que, en general la muestra es más liberal que tradicionalista. Conclusión: los niños difieren significativamente de las niñas, las diferencias entre las actitudes y los comportamientos sexuales de acuerdo a apoyar la incorporación de la permanencia de la doble moral sexual. Descriptores: identidad de género; doble estándar sexual; sexualidad; adolescente; conducta sexual.

Con motivo de los tres ejercicios contables en que se dividía el año natural, fechados en la Candelaria, la Ascensión y Todos los Santos, los templarios daban cuenta de su gestión a sus clientes, entregándoles un resumen en cada ejercicio en el que aparecía la posición deudora o acreedora de la Orden frente a ellos que denominamos extracto de cuenta.En este trabajo se realiza un análisis descriptivo y cualitativo del contenido del extracto de la cuenta de la Candelaria o extracto de la cuenta de cobros y pagos realizados por el tesorero del Temple para Blanca de Castilla, reina madre de Francia, del 2 de febrero de 1243, que nos ofrece un ejemplo de la rendición de cuentas del Temple a uno de sus clientes. Documento en el que existe cierta discusión acerca de la posible existencia de vestigios del uso de la partida doble. Calendar year was divided in three accounting periods, according to the Candelaria, the Ascension and the Feast of All Saints so that, on those dates, the Templars reported accountability of their management to their customers, and supplying them a summary account on the position of debit or credit of the Order opposite them, that we call the extract of the account.This paper presents a descriptive and qualitative analysis of the contents of extract of Candelaria´s account or extract of collection and payment management performed by the treasurer of the Temple to Blanca de Castilla, Queen mother of France, on 2nd of February 1243, which provides an example of accountability of the Temple to one of its customers. About this document there is some discussion of whether there are traces of the use of double-entry accounting.

El Análisis de Situación de Salud es una herramienta que busca mejorar la salud y calidad de vida de poblaciones. Se diseñó una investigación transversal, descriptiva; con doble propósito: relacio- nar condiciones de vida y comportamiento del proceso salud y enfermedad en la comunidad Cerro de Guayabal y realizar ejercicio práctico-docente con estudiantes del quinto semestre de Medicina. Se encuestaron 266 familias, 1134 personas (91%) de la población total. El 71% solo alcanza nivel de formación primaria. Más de la mitad tiene viviendas en condiciones regulares y cultura sanita- ria entre regular y mal. El 87% no tiene necesidades básicas cubiertas. Más del 50% son familias disfuncionales. El 56% se dispensarizó de riesgo y 11% enfermos. Dada las condiciones de vida y ausencia de centro de salud parece existir morbilidad oculta. Existe riesgo de accidentes de tránsito y laboral. Resultó un tema crítico la recolección de residuos, el acceso a agua potable y la conta- minación ambiental. Existe imperiosa necesidad de intervenciones de salud para mejorar el estado de salud y calidad de vida de esta comunidad. Palabras clave: calidad de vida, estado de salud, salud pública. Abstract: The Health Situation Analysis is a tool that seeks to improve the health and quality of life of pop- ulations. A cross-sectional descriptive study was designed; with dual purpose: to relate living con- ditions and health behavior and disease process in the Cerro de Guayabal community and make practical-teaching practice with students of the fifth semester of Medicine. 266 families, 1134 people (91%) of the total population were surveyed. Only 71% reached primary level. More than half are in regular housing conditions and health culture fair to poor. 87% do not cover basic needs. More than 50% are dysfunctional families. 56% were risk dispensary and 11% were sick. Given the living conditions and lack of health center it seems to be hidden morbidity. There is a risk of traffic and labor accidents. Waste collection, access to drinking water and environmental pollution were critical issues. There is an urgent need for health interventions to improve the health state and quality of life of this community. Key words: life quality, health state, public health.

RESUMOObjetivo: analisar a realização das funções administrativas na gestão local da Atenção Básica em Saúde. Método: estudo qualitativo, tipo descritivo, com 21 gestores, sendo seis gerentes de distritos sanitários e 15 gerentes de Unidades Básicas de Saúde. Para a coleta de dados, utilizou-se roteiro semiestruturado. Os dados foram analisados a partir da técnica de Análise de Conteúdo, na modalidade Análise Temático-Categorial. Resultados: emergiram duas categorias analíticas: a) Atribuições dos gestores locais de saúde: indefinição e coexistência de atividades assistenciais e gerenciais e b) Realização das funções administrativas. Conclusão: os resultados mostram uma prática gerencial frágil, sendo as funções administrativas realizadas de forma incipiente e assistemática. Há, ainda, certa indefinição das atribuições do cargo de gestor, levando os mesmos a exercerem dupla função (gerenciar e assistir). Este estudo leva a uma reflexão sobre o trabalho de gerentes locais de saúde na Atenção Básica e suas práticas gerenciais, em busca de efetivação e melhorias nas intervenções em saúde. Descritores: Atenção Primária à Saúde; Gestão em saúde; Administração de Serviços de Saúde; Planejamento em Saúde; Organização e Administração; Administração em Saúde Pública.ABSTRACTObjective: to analyze the accomplishment of the administrative functions in the local management of Basic Health Care. Method: qualitative study, descriptive type, with 21 managers, six managers of health districts and 15 managers of Basic Health Units. For data collection, a semi-structured script was used. The data was analyzed using the Content Analysis technique in the Thematic-Categorical Analysis modality. Results: two analytical categories emerged: a) Assignments of local health managers: lack of definition and coexistence of care and management activities; and b) Realization of administrative functions. Conclusion: the results show a fragile management practice, with the administrative functions performed in an incipient and unsystematic way. There is, also, a certain lack of definition of the duties of the manager, leading them to exercise dual functions (manage and assist). This study leads to a reflection on the work of local health managers in Primary Care and its managerial practices, in search of effectiveness and improvements in health interventions. Descriptors: Primary Health Care; Health Management; Health Services Administration; Health Planning; Organization and Administration; Public Health Administration.RESUMENObjetivo: analizar la realización de las funciones administrativas en la gestión local de la Atención Básica en Salud. Método: estudio cualitativo, tipo descriptivo, con 21 gestores, siendo seis gerentes de distritos sanitarios y 15 gerentes de Unidades Básicas de Salud. Para la recolección de datos, se utilizó guión semiestructurado. Los datos fueron analizados a partir de la técnica de Análisis de Contenido, en la modalidad Análisis Temático-Categorial. Resultados: surgieron dos categorías analíticas: a) Atribuciones de los gestores locales de salud: indefinición y coexistencia de actividades asistenciales y gerenciales; y b) realización de las funciones administrativas. Conclusión: los resultados muestran una práctica gerencial frágil, siendo las funciones administrativas realizadas de forma incipiente y asistencial. Hay todavía, cierta indefinición de las atribuciones del cargo de gestor, llevando a los mismos, a ejercer doble función (gestionar y asistir). Este estudio lleva a una reflexión sobre el trabajo de gerentes locales de salud en la Atención Básica y sus prácticas gerenciales, en busca de efectivación y mejoras en las intervenciones en salud. Descriptores: Atención Primaria de Salud, Gestión en Salud; Administración de los Servicios de Salud; Planificación en Salud; Organización y Administración; Administración en Salud Pública.

ABSTRACT Objective: to analyze the film The Prince of Tides according to Theory of the Family System and identify the construction of subjectivity psychotic. Methodology: it was the method used the case study of the film, considering best source for data collection because of the complexity of the object of study. The data are presented in speeches the scenes experienced by people during childhood focusing on the family context. The film presents the life of a dysfunctional family system evidenced by violence, tension, anxiety, anger and feelings of despair. Resulted: we found the family dynamics of the characters in the film The Prince of Tides the presence of characteristics of hardening, communication of double bind and symbiotic relationship. Conclusion: we recognize that this standard relational family influence in the construction of subjectivity psychotic character of Savannah, which has psychotic symptoms as the duplicity of identity, loss of contact with reality, use of the cancellation, denial and repression as defensive mechanisms. We believe in the importance of knowledge and identification of relational family by the professional standard of nursing for effective intervention in the area of Mental Health. Descriptors: systemic theory; family; subjectivity; psychosis.RESUMOObjetivo: analisar o filme O Príncipe das Marés de acordo com a Teoria Sistêmica Familiar e identificar a construção da subjetividade psicótica. Metodologia: foi utilizado o método do estudo de caso do filme O Príncipe das Marés por considerar melhor fonte para a coleta de dados devido à complexidade do objeto de estudo. Os dados são apresentados em discursos das cenas vividas pelos personagens durante a infância focalizando o contexto familiar. O filme apresenta a vivência de um sistema familiar disfuncional evidenciado por violência, tensão, ansiedade, raiva e sentimentos de desespero. Resultados: encontramos na dinâmica familiar dos personagens do filme O Príncipe das Marés a presença de características de rigidificação, comunicação de duplo-vínculo e relação simbiótica. Conclusão: reconhecemos que este padrão relacional familiar influenciou na construção da subjetividade psicótica da personagem Savannah, que apresenta como sintomas psicóticos a duplicidade da identidade, perda do contato com a realidade, uso da anulação, negação e repressão como mecanismos de defesa. Acreditamos na importância do conhecimento e a identificação do padrão relacional familiar pelo profissional da Enfermagem para uma intervenção eficaz na área da Saúde Mental. Descritores: teoria sistêmica; família; subjetividade; psicose.RESUMEN Objetivo: examinar la película El príncipe de las mareas de acuerdo con la teoría del sistema familiar y determinar la construcción de la subjetividad psicóticos. Metodología: es el método utilizado el estudio de caso de la película, teniendo en cuenta la mejor fuente para la recopilación de datos debido a la complejidad del objeto de estudio. Los datos se presentan en los discursos de las escenas experimentadas por las personas durante la infancia se centra en el contexto familiar. La película presenta la vida de una familia disfuncional sistema pone de manifiesto por la violencia, tensión, ansiedad, ira y sentimientos de desesperanza. Resultados: hemos encontrado la dinámica familiar de los personajes de la película El Príncipe de las Mareas la presencia de características de rigidificação, la comunicación, de doble vínculo y la relación simbiótica. Conclusión: reconocemos que esta norma de relación familiar influencia en la construcción de la subjetividad psicóticos carácter de Savannah, que tiene síntomas psicóticos como la duplicidad de identidad, pérdida de contacto con la realidad, el uso de la cancelación, la negación y la represión como mecanismos de defensa. Creemos en la importancia del conocimiento y la identificación de relacional de la familia profesional de enfermería estándar para la intervención efectiva en el área de Salud Mental. Descriptores: la teoría sistémica; familia; subjetividad; psicosis.

Objetivo: Analizar los niveles preliminares de estrés, Burnout y depresión entre los auxiliares y técnicos de enfermería que trabajan en las unidades de cuidados intensivos de algunos servicios hospitalarios privados.Método: Estudio de enfoque cuantitativo-analítico y transversal, en 3 servicios hospitalarios privados y en 4 unidades de terapia intensiva. El instrumento de recolección de datos se compuso de 5 cuestionarios validados: perfil socioeconómico y demográfico, sintomatología del estrés en Bacarro, Escala de Estrés en el Trabajo, Cuestionario de JBeili, versión brasileña inspirada en el Maslach Burnout Inventory (versión HSS - Human Services Survey) el Inventario de Depresión de Beck, todos los datos fueron tratados a través de la estadística analítica.Resultados: Fueron abordados 72 auxiliares y técnicos de enfermería, donde la mayoría era del sexo femenino (52,8%), técnicos en enfermería (95,8%), entre 31 a 35 años (27,8%), casados (54,2%) y con 2 o más vínculos de trabajo (62,5%). En la fase inicial del síndrome de Burnout (68,1%) y con cuadro disfórico-depresivo (45,4%) en Bacarro, con estrés leve (66,7%) en la escala de estrés en el trabajo, en la fase inicial del síndrome de Burnout (68,1%) y con cuadro disfórico-depresivo (45,8%).Conclusión: Las unidades de cuidados intensivos son ambientes insalubres, potencialmente tensiogénicos y con elevada tasa de absentismo. Los participantes del estudio mantienen doble jornada de trabajo, en su mayoría mujeres y con hijos, presentando escores preocupantes de estrés, Burnout y depresión. Objective: To analyze the preliminary levels of stress, Burnout and depression among nursing assistants and technicians working at intensive care units of some private hospital services.Method: A quantitative-analytical and cross-sectional study in three private hospital services and in four intensive care units. The data collection instrument consisted of five validated questionnaires: socioeconomic and demographic profile, stress symptomatology in Bacarro, Work Stress Scale, JBeili Questionnaire, Brazilian version inspired by the Maslach Burnout Inventory (HSS - Human Services Survey) and the Beck Depression Inventory, all data were treated using analytical statistics.Results: The study included 72 nursing assistants and technicians, the majority was female (52.8%), nursing technician (95.8%), aged 31-35 years old (27.8%), married (54,2%) and with two or more employments (62.5%). They were classified with moderate stress (70.8%) in Bacarro, with mild stress (66.7%) on the work stress scale, in initial phase of Burnout syndrome (68.1%) and with dysphoric-depressive symptoms (45,8%).Conclusion: Intensive care units are potentially tensiogenic unhealthy environments and with high absenteeism rates. The study participants keep double working hours, mostly women and with children, presenting high scores of stress, Burnout and depression. Objetivo: Analisar os níveis preliminares de estresse, Burnout e depressão entre os auxiliares e técnicos de enfermagem que trabalham nas unidades de terapia intensiva de alguns serviços hospitalares privados.Método: Estudo de abordagem quantitativo-analítica e transversal, em 3 serviços hospitalares privados e em 4 unidades de terapia intensiva. O instrumento de coleta dos dados foi composto de 5 questionários validados: perfil socioeconômico e demográfico, sintomatologia do estresse em Bacarro, Escala de Estresse no Trabalho, Questionário de JBeili, versão brasileira inspirada no Maslach Burnout Inventory (versão HSS - Human Services Survey) e o Inventário de Depressão de Beck, todos dados foram tratados através da estatística analítica. Resultados: Foram abordados 72 auxiliares e técnicos de enfermagem, onde a maioria era do sexo feminino (52,8%), técnicos em enfermagem (95,8%), entre 31 a 35 anos (27,8%), casados (54,2%) e com 2 ou mais vínculos empregatícios (62,5%). Classificados com estresse moderado (70,8%) em Bacarro, com estresse leve (66,7%) na escala de estresse no trabalho, na fase inicial da síndrome de Burnout (68,1%) e com quadro disfórico-depressivo (45,8%).Conclusão: As unidades de terapia intensiva são ambientes insalubres, potencialmente tensiogênicos e com elevada taxa de absenteísmo. Os participantes do estudo mantêm dupla jornada de trabalho, em sua maioria mulheres e com filhos, apresentando escores elevados de estresse, Burnout e depressão.

STEAM-based learning is a global issue in early-childhood education practice. STEAM content becomes an integrative thematic approach as the main pillar of learning in kindergarten. This study aims to develop a conceptual and practical approach in the implementation of children's education by applying a modification from STEAM Learning to R-SLAMET. The research used a qualitative case study method with data collection through focus group discussions (FGD), involving early-childhood educator's research participants (n = 35), interviews, observation, document analysis such as videos, photos and portfolios. The study found several ideal categories through the use of narrative data analysis techniques. The findings show that educators gain an understanding of the change in learning orientation from competency indicators to play-based learning. Developing thematic play activities into continuum playing scenarios. 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RECYCLABLE COLLECTORS RECYCLE ORGANIZATIONAL PROCESSES, REVALUE THE LABOR AND THEY BUILD A NEW STORYRECOLECTORES DE DESECHOS RECICLABLES RECICLAN PROCESOS ORGANIZATIVOS, RE-DIGNIFICAN EL TRABAJO Y CONSTRUYEN UNA NUEVA HISTORIAA Economia Popular Solidária recobre uma realidade marcada pela heterogeneidade e diversidade. Nessas iniciativas populares subsiste uma tensão fundamental entre o possível e o desejável e carregam consigo a dupla tarefa de superar os limites colocados pela ordem econômica vigente e avançar na construção de novos parâmetros de organização e articulação. O presente trabalho analisa a experiência de catadores de recicláveis do Projeto Novo Ciclo. Além de uma breve introdução e as considerações finais, o artigo apresenta percepções acerca do conceito de Economia Popular Solidária e discute a participação dos catadores de recicláveis na gestão dos resíduos sólidos. Algumas percepções e reflexões sobre a experiência de catadores de recicláveis do Projeto Novo Ciclo, subsidiam o confronto teórico-prático, ou seja, o conceito de economia popular solidária e a experiência desses trabalhadores da reciclagem. A metodologia utilizada consistiu na observação direta e observação participante, além da presença e intervenções nos eventos realizados. Os resultados, ainda parciais, apontam que as atividades realizadas possibilitaram a implantação e fortalecimento de programas de coleta seletiva solidária em municípios da região sul e sudoeste de Minas Gerais. Apontam também o aprimoramento da formação de catadores e de técnicos gestores públicos municipais da Região, bem como ações voltadas para a educação ambiental e mobilização social. Ações e intervenções que resultaram na criação da rede de comercialização de material reciclável denominada Rede Sul Sudoeste MG.Palavras-chave: Economia Popular Solidária; Catadores de Recicláveis; Projeto Novo Ciclo; Participação e Cidadania.ABSTRACT The Popular Solidarity Economy reveals a reality marked by heterogeneity and diversity. In these popular initiatives there is a fundamental tension between the possible and the desirable and it carries with the double task of overcoming the limits established by the current economic order and moving forward in the construction of new parameters of organization and articulation. This paper analyzes the experience of recyclable waste collectors of the New Cycle Project. In addition to a brief introduction and the final considerations, the article presents the perceptions about the concept of Popular Solidarity Economy and discusses the participation of recyclable waste collectors in the management of solid waste. Some perceptions and reflections about the experience of recyclable waste collectors of the New Cycle Project, favor the theoretical-practical confrontation, that is, the concept of popular solidarity economy and the experience of these recycling workers. The methodology used consisted of the direct observation and participant observation, besides of the presence and interventions in the events held. The partial results indicate that the carried out activities allowed the implementation and strengthening of selective and solidarity collection programs in municipalities of the south and southwestern region of Minas Gerais. It was also possible to improve the training of collectors and municipal public management technicians in the Region, with actions aimed at environmental education and social mobilization. The actions and interventions led to the creation of a network of commercialization of recyclable materials denominated South Southwest MG Network.Keywords: Popular Solidarity Economy; Recyclable Waste Collectors; New Cycle Project; Participation and Citizenship.RESUMENLa Economía Popular Solidaria revela una realidad marcada por la heterogeneidad y diversidad. En esas iniciativas populares subsiste una tensión fundamental entre lo posible y lo deseable y carga consigo la doble tarea de superar los límites establecidos por el orden económico actual y el de avanzar en la construcción de nuevos parámetros de organización y articulación. El presente trabajo analiza la experiencia de los recolectores de desechos reciclables del Proyecto Nuevo Ciclo. Además de una breve introducción y las consideraciones finales, el artículo presenta las percepciones acerca del concepto de Economía Solidaria y se discute acerca de la participación de los recolectores de desechos reciclables en la gestión de los residuos sólidos. Algunas percepciones y reflexiones sobre la experiencia de recolectores de desechos reciclables del Proyecto Nuevo Ciclo, favorecen la confrontación teórico-práctica, o sea, el concepto de economía popular solidaria y la experiencia de esos trabajadores del reciclaje. La metodología utilizada consistió en la observación directa y observación participante, además de la presencia e intervenciones en los eventos realizados. Los resultados parciales, señalan que las actividades realizadas posibilitaron la implementación y fortalecimiento de programas de colecta selectiva y solidaria en municipios de la región sur y suroeste de Minas Gerais. Se logró también mejorar la formación de recolectores y de técnicos gestores públicos de la Región, con acciones dirigidas a la educación ambiental y la movilización social. Las acciones e intervenciones condujeron a la creación de una red de comercialización de materiales reciclables denominada Red Sur Suroeste MG.Palabras clave: Economía Popular Solidaria; Recolectores de Desechos Reciclables; Proyecto Nuevo Ciclo; Participación y Ciudadanía.

Gladiolus grandiflorus is known and grown for its high profit and excellent cut flower. To compete with other growers and to meet the consumer demand the grower should adopt new techniques and apply effective chemicals to the plant precisely which in result gives good quality flowers. For this an experiment was carried out on Gladiolus grandiflorus cv. Rose supreme in experimental area of department of horticulture, Bahauddin Zakariya University, Multan. There were 6 treatments and 3 replications and the corms were planted in pots. Each treatment in replications is replicated four times to get best results. The sowing was done on 3rd December 2018 and the first application of chemicals was applied on 15/02/2019. The total number of applications was 6 and each application was applied by foliar application after one week interval. The chemicals were silicon and gibberellic acid. Silicon is applied as T0 (0g), T1 (1g), T2 (2g), T3 (3g), T4 (4g) and T5 (5g) while gibberellic acid has a fixed dose of 200ppm in each treatment. The best results related to vegetative and floral parameters were observed in T4 treatment plants which showed best result and an increase in stalk length, spike length, diameter of floret, diameter of spike, number of leaves per plant, vase life, number of florets per spike, fresh weight of complete flower stalk and plant height.KeywordsGA3, silicon, rose supremeINTRODUCTIONGladiolus is commonly known and grown for its high aesthetic and economical value, especially in Pakistan economy. It is placed second important cut flower in Pakistan while fourth most important cut flower in the world. The cultivated area of gladiolus is only 970 acre and is too small as compared to rose which is 9200 acre and tuberose which is 2787 acre (Khan, 2005). Gladiolus belongs to Iridaceae family; holds about 260 species but many of them are wild. Native to Africa but some species are also from Mediterranean, South Africa and from Europe (Dole and Wilkins, 1999). Progressive farmers in Pakistan are now converting to floriculture industry instead of growing traditional crops, for this rose, gladiolus, tuberose and carnation are the best flowers that give maximum profit in low time period. The total cultivated area of gladiolus in Punjab is more than 450 acres. Plant growth regulators are responsible especially for the physical attributes of a plant in an effective way. Treating plants with plant growth regulators is very mandatory to enhance the growth and yield of plants (Nuvale et al., 2010). Different doses of GA3 can affect significantly on the vegetative as well as reproductive growth of gladiolus (Umrao et al., 2007). GA3 can increase the height, number of florets and can initiate early sprouting of flowers (Taiz and Zeiger, 2002). Silicon is the 2nd most available element on Earth’s crust; about 32 percent silicon is present in soil by weight. 1% to 10% silicon is present in plant dry matter. The available form of silicon that plant can easily uptake is called as Mono salicylic acid Si(OH)4. Silicon is mostly required during vegetative as well as reproductive growth of the plant to attain healthy and maximum yield from plant (Savant et al., 1997). Farmers now a days do not have proper knowledge of cultivating flowers that is the reason they apply extra chemicals to get maximum yield but cannot achieve it because the amount and type of chemical they are applying are used for traditional crops, ornamentals and flowers have their own need of different chemicals for this, the research is done to describe the role of chemicals on gladiolus to attain maximum yield with high quality flowers.MATERIALS AND METHODSThe research was carried out at experimental area of Department of Horticulture, Bahauddin Zakariya University Multan, Pakistan. The research was done to get and to elaborate the outcome of foliar use of GA3 and Silicon on growth, yield and flowering of Gladiolus grandiflorus cv. Rose supreme in pots. Soil samples were taken from various pots and then collected to check the soil properties i.e. its acid: base ratio, Electrical conductivity, form and the amount the nutrients present in the soil. The combination of soil media used in the research was 1:1 (Silt: Leaf manure) and the pots were placed according to the statistical design which was Randomized Complete Block Design (RCBD). The corms of Gladiolus grandiflorus cv. Rose supreme was imported from Netherlands. The treatments were applied as 200 ppm of Gibberellic acid (GA3) and 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 g/L of silicon as sodium meta-silicate. The treatments were applied by foliar application with different combination in a Randomized complete block design (RCBD) which is as follows in table 1.Data collection: Following were the some parameters in table 2 taken to elaborate the outcome of foliar use of GA3 and silicon on the growth, flowering and yield of Gladiolus grandiflorus cv. Rose supreme.On 3rd December, corm sowing was done. One corm was in each pot. There were total 6 treatments one was control which has only 200 ppm GA3 while others have different silicon doses as well as has fixed dose of GA3. Each treatment was divided into 4 pots thus total No. of pots were (6 × 3 × 4) = 72 having three replications. GA3 and silicon was applied by foliar application with one week interval. The first foliar application was done before stick formation and the date was 15/02/2019, while the last application was done on 22/03/2019. The total number of applications was six and was applied through foliar imple-mentation of chemicals. The cultural practices, integrated pest management and fertilizer application were done thoroughly on each replication with equal amount of dose.RESULT AND DISCUSSIONStalk length (cm): Table 3 showed the best effect of silicon and Gibberellic acid as T4 which showed maximum stalk length T4 (80.543) after that T1 (78.833), T0 (76.667), T3 (73.417) and T5 (73.167) while T2 (72.833) showed minimum stalk length. The stalk length was taken in cm. The length of stalk was approximately similar to each other by the application of silicon and Gibberellic acid. On the other hand table 4 showed the ANOVA for stalk length of gladiolus. Maximum stalk length will give maximum profit to flower growers that’s why it is important to choose efficient chemicals that enhance the flower growth as well as the accurate dose of chemical is also important to get maximum results. Increase in stalk length was also reported in anthurium through foliar allocation of GA3 (Dhaduk et al., 2007).Spike length (cm): The best results were shown in different concentrations among those T4 concentration showed best result and then T1, T3, T0, T2 and T5 respectively. The results of the chemicals on spike length are shown in table 5. Different concentrations imparts favorable impact on spike length and increase their size as T4 (33.350), T1 (31.750), T3 (29.707), T0 (28.833), T2 (28.267) and T5 (27.303). More spike length increased the profit ratio of flower grower and meets the cons-umer demand more precisely. Good spike length is an important constituent to increase the quality of flower. The statistical analysis i.e. ANOVA for spike length of gladiolus is shown in table 6. To increase the quality of flower it is mand-atory to choose best and most effective chemical and applied with the recommended dose which in result gives maximum quality flower. It was reported that spike length and stalk length can be increased via foliar allocation of GA3 on anthurium (Dhaduk et al., 2007).Diameter of spike (cm): The best results were shown in different concentrations among those T4 concentration showed best result and then T1, T3, T2, T0 and T5 respectively. Different concentrations imparts favorable impact on spike length and increase their size as T4 (0.5990), T1 (0.5990), T3 (0.5887), T2 (0.5867), T0 (0.5700) and T5 (0.5443) as shown in table 7. In table 8 ANOVA for diameter of spike of gladiolus showed significant results. More diameter of spike increased the profit ratio of flower grower and meets the consumer demand more precisely. Good diameter of spike is an important constituent to increase the quality of flower. To increase the quality of flower it is mandatory to choose best and most effective chemical and applied with the recommended dose which in result gives maximum quality flower.Diameter of floret (cm): The best results were shown in different concentrations among those T4 concentration showed best result and then T1, T2, T3, T5 and T0 respectively. Different concentrations imparts favorable impact on diameter of floret and increase their size as T4 (0.6890), T1 (0.6817), T2 (0.6700), T3 (0.6600), T5 (0.6300) and T0 (0.6100) as shown in table 9. Significant results were seen in ANOVA table 10.Quality of flower i.e. its size and color is very important to get maximum profit and to sustain in a competitive market. To achieve best flower size different chemicals and plant growth regulators are applied which have positive effects on the growth and nourishment of flower. Silicon and Gibberellic acid showed their best result at the concentrations as 200ppm Gibberellic acid and 4g of silicon.Number of leaves per plant: Table 11 showed the best results in different concentrations among those T4 concentrations showed best result and then T1, T2, T3, T0 and T5 respectively. Different concentrations imparts favorable impact on number of leaves per plant and increase their size as T4 (8.9167), T1 (8.8333), T2 (8.6667), T3 (8.6333), T0 (8.4667) and T5 (7.5100). Number of leaves in each treatment from T0-T4 was approximately same but in T5 the number of leaves decreased. Number of leaves in any plant was most important because they are responsible for the photosynthesis which in result provides energy to the plant body to grow well. Table 12 showed statistical approach of number of leaves per plant. More number of plants will cause more photosynthesis and in result the plant grow well with good quality flowers for the consumer thus gives maximum profit to the flower grower. It is reported in different experiments that Gibberellic acid is responsible to increase the number of leaves in chrysanthemum and other cut flowers (Naira et al., 2003).Vase life (days): The best results were shown in different concentrations among those T4 concentration showed best result and then T5, T2, T0, T1 and T3 respectively. Different concentrations imparts favourable impact on vase life and increase as T4 (10.580), T5 (8.777), T2 (8.763), T0 (8.750), T1 (8.583) and T3 (8.5800). Table 13 and table 14 showed the significant results. Concentration showed best result and then T1, T2, T3, T0 and T5 respectively. Different concentrations imparts favourable impact on days to spike emergence and the results are as T5 (122.40), T0 (115.83), T3 (114.92), T2 (114.58), T1 (113.83) and T4 (112.33). By the application of silicon and Gibberellic acid the days to spike emergence decrease significantly in each treatment while the best and early results were shown in T4 and the dose was 200ppm Gibberellic acid along with 4g of silicon. Table 15 showed different treatments and their result while table 16 showed significant results of days to spike emergence. The flower grower can get maximum profit by introducing its flowers earlier than other growers in the market, thus less competition will give more profit. It was reported that Gibberellic acid is responsible to maximum spike length and it is observed that minimum number of days required for spike emergence when Gibberellic acid is sprayed on plants (Devadanam et al., 2007).Number of florets per spike: The best results were shown in different concentrations among those T4 concentration showed best result and then T1, T3, T2, T0 and T5 respectively. The results were significantly described in table 17 and table 18. Different concentrations imparts favorable impact on number of florets per spike and the results are as T4 (10.583), T1 (9.660), T3 (9.333), T2 (9.250), T0 (8.550) and T5 (8.167). More number of florets on a single flower stalk will give more profit because it met the demand of consumer. Consumer will pay more to get more flowers on a single flower stalk. A significant increase in number of florets per spike was noted. An increase in number of flowers was reported on some flowering plants by the foliar application of gibberellic acid (Kumar et al., 2003).Fresh weight of complete flower stalk (g): The best results were shown in different concentrations among those T4 concentration showed best result and then T1, T3, T2, T0 and T5 respectively. The results were significantly described in table 19 and table 20. Different concentrations imparts favor-able impact on weight of newly harvested whole inflorescence stalk and results are as T4 (39.000), T1 (34.750), T3 (31.040), T2 (30.833), T0 (29.200) and T5 (25.320). More fresh weight of flower stalk is considered to be a good indicator for good quality flower which in result give consumer mental satisfaction as well as more profit to flower grower. Fresh weight of anthurium flower increase by the application of gibberellic acid as well as the increase the flower yield to some extent (Kumar et al., 2003). It was reported in chrysanthemum that an increase in fresh weight, dry weight and size of flower was observed significantly.Dry weight of complete flower stalk (g): Table 21 showed the best results in different concentrations among those T5 concentration showed best result and then T4, T0, T1, T2 and T3 respectively, while table 22 showed ANOVA for dry weight of complete flower stalk. Different concentrations imparts favourable impact on dry weighing of whole inflorescence stalk and the results are as T5 (13.423), T4 (13.363), T0 (13.313), T1 (13.280), T2 (13.160) and T3 (12.420). Dry weight of complete flower stalk of all treatments was approximately same. There is a very minute difference among them. It was reported in chrysanthemum that an increase in fresh weight, dry weight and size of flower was observed significantly (Nagarjuna et al., 1983).Plant height (cm): The best results were shown in different concentrations among those T4 concentration showed best result and then T1, T0, T3, T2 and T5 respectively. The results were significantly described in table 23 and table 24. Different concentrations imparts favorable impact on plant height and the results are as T4 (65.350), T1 (64.070), T0 (61.340), T3 (58.383), T2 (57.633) and T5 (57.513). Plant height is one of the most important parts of any plant. Consumers like the flowers which have more height because more flower height will increase the number of floret per spike. 4g silicon along with 200ppm of Gibberellic acid is recommended to increase the plant height effectively. An increase in plant height, number of leaves and branches was reported by the foliar application on Gibberellic acid on chrysanthemum and on other cut flowers (Kumar et al., 2003; Naira et al., 2003).ConclusionThe research was done in research area of Horticulture department, Bahauddin Zakariya University Multan. Randomized complete block design (RCBD) was the model on which the experiment was laid out. Total number of treatments were 6 which are as T0 (200ppm GA3), T1 (200ppm GA3+ 1g Silicon), T2 (200ppm GA3+ 2g Silicon), T3 (200ppm GA3+ 3g Silicon), T4 (200ppm GA3+ 4g Silicon) and T5 (200ppm GA3+ 5g Silicon). The best results were observed in T4 plants which has maximum effect of silicon as well as gibberellic acid. In most parameters T5 showed repellent effects due to high amount of silicon dose. CONFLICT OF INTERESTThe Author has no conflict of InterestREFERENCES: Devadanam, A., B. Shinde, P. Sable and S. Vedpathak, 2007. Effect of foliar spray of plant growth regulators on flowering and vase life of tuberose (Polianthes tuberosa L.). Journal of Soils Crops, 17(1): 86-88.Dhaduk, B., S. Kumari, A. Singh and J. Desai, 2007. Response of gibberellic acid on growth and flowering attributes in anthurium (Anthurium andreanum Lind.). Journal of Ornamental Horticulture, 10(3): 187-189.Dole, J. M. and H. F. Wilkins, 1999. Floriculture: principles and species. Prentice Hall, Upper Saddle River, U.S.A. pp. 578-581.Khan, M., 2005. Development of commercial floriculture in Asia and the pacific-issues, challenges and opportunities. In: The national seminar on streamlining: Production and export of cut-flowers and house plants, march 2nd to 4th, 2005, Islamabad, Pakistan. HFP.Kumar, P., S. Raghava and R. Misra, 2003. Effect of biofertilizers on growth and yield of China aster. Journal of Ornamental Horticulture, 6(2): 85-88.Nagarjuna, B., V. Reddy, M. Rao and E. Reddy, 1983. Effect of growth regulators and potassium nitrate on growth flowering and yield of chrysamthemum. South Indian Horticulture, 36: 136-140.Naira, Sujatha A and K. Shiva, 2003. Performance of selected gladiolus (Gladiolus floribundus) varieties under bay island conditions. Indian Journal of Agricultural Science, 73(7): 397-398.Nuvale, M., S. Aklade, J. Desai and P. Nannavare, 2010. Influence of pgr’s on growth, flowering and yield of chrysanthemum (Dendranthem grandiflora Tzvelev) cv.‘Iihr-6’. International Journal Pharmancy Bioscience, 1(2): 1-4.Savant, N. K., L. E. Datnoff and G. H. Snyder, 1997. Depletion of plant‐available silicon in soils: A possible cause of declining rice yields. Communications in Soil Science Plant Analysis, 28(13-14): 1245-1252.Taiz, L. and E. Zeiger, 2002. Plant physiology (sunderland: Sinauer). Sunderland, Sinauer Associates: 559-590.Umrao, V. K., R. Singh and A. Singh, 2007. Effect of gibberellic acid and growing media on vegetative and floral attributes of gladiolus. Indian Journal of Horticulture, 64(1): 73-76.

Presenting Author: Priscilla Doyle, MAOrganisation: National University of Ireland Galway, Galway city, Galway, IrelandCo-Authors:Name: Niamh GallagherDegrees: B.A (International), M.A Health PromotionOrganisation: National University of Ireland Galway, Galway city, Galway, IrelandName: Siobhán SmythDegrees: RPN, PhDOrganisation: National University of Ireland Galway, Galway city, Galway, IrelandName: Dympna CaseyDegrees: RGN, BA, MA, PhdOrganisation: National University of Ireland Galway, Galway city, Galway, IrelandBackground:A dementia diagnosis can prevent people from participating in society, leading to a further decline in cognitive, social and physical health. However, it may be possible for people with dementia to continue to live meaningful lives and continue to participate actively in society if a supportive psychosocial environment exists. This feasibility study seeks to create such an environment by determining the feasibility of conducting a multifaceted complex resilience-building psychosocial intervention for people with dementia and their caregivers living in the community.Method:Ten participants with dementia and their primary caregivers living in the community were recruited and received the CREST intervention. The intervention provided (a) a 7-week cognitive stimulation programme (CST) followed by an 8-week physical exercise programme for people with dementia and (b) a 6-week educational programme for caregivers. Members of the wider community were invited to a dementia awareness programme and GP practices to a dementia-training workshop. Trained professionals delivered all intervention components. Outcomes assessed the feasibility and acceptability of all study processes such as: recruitment; intervention content and delivery; and data collection methods.Results:Recruiting participants was difficult, with local community organisations/groups proving more successful than GP practices. Preliminary results indicate that participants (people with dementia and carers) enjoyed the content of the CREST intervention, that the delivery method and timing worked well and overall found the programme beneficial. Carers reported that the educational programme provided them with valuable information which was accessible and easy to understand. However, the group activities and learning from each other was identified as crucial to their enjoyment and learning. The people with dementia likewise enjoyed the CST and exercise components, some reporting that the CST enhanced their concentration and that exercising with an exercise buddy was more sociable and enjoyable.Conclusion:The evidence from participants indicates that CREST is feasible and acceptable to carers and people with dementia in the community.

sidekick in literature is perceived as a supporter of a hero or a man-behind a hero. However, it does not always work that way. In Sherlock Holmes canon, there can be found a well-known dr. John Watson who acts differently as a sidekick for Sherlock Holmes as a protagonist of the stories. Throughout the canon, Watson does not merely act as a supporter or a man-behind who just follows Holmes’s moves. In many occasions, Watson contributes varied significant things in supporting Holmes through some roles he possesses. Moreover, what Watson contributes is found out to be influential to Holmes. Therefore, it can be seen that being a sidekick can do other things apart from following the hero all the time.Based on the facts about Watson’s contributions, this paper is conducted to examine the roles dr. John Watson as a sidekick. The data used in the research are 56 short stories and four novels of Sherlock Holmes bundled together in Sherlock Holmes canon. The method of collecting the data is executed through intensive reading, mapping out the roles of dr. John Watson found during the reading process, and analysing the collected data.Since the focus of this paper is about dr. John Watson’s roles and their influences towards Sherlock Holmes, objective theory is chosen to be employed. Related to the theory, this paper offers the explanation of intrinsic elements with focus on character element and sidekick character.

Campylobacter jejuni is the leading bacterial cause of gastroenteritis worldwide with excessive incidence in low-and middle-income countries (LMIC). During a survey for C. jejuni from putative animal hosts in a town in the Peruvian Amazon, we were able to isolate and whole genome sequence two C. jejuni strains from domesticated guinea pigs (Cavia porcellus). The C. jejuni isolated from guinea pigs had a novel multilocus sequence type that shared some alleles with other C. jejuni collected from guinea pigs. Average nucleotide identity and phylogenetic analysis with a collection of C. jejuni subsp. jejuni and C. jejuni subsp. doylei suggest that the guinea pig isolates are distinct. Genomic comparisons demonstrated gene gain and loss that could be associated with guinea pig host specialization related to guinea pig diet, anatomy, and physiology including the deletion of genes involved with selenium metabolism, including genes encoding the selenocysteine insertion machinery and selenocysteine-containing proteins.

ABSTRACTObjective. The aim of this field trial was to investigate the relationships among subclinical laminitis, hematological, ruminal and faecal alterations. Materials and Methods. To this extent dairy cows presenting subclinical laminitis (n=11) and to those of other healthy cows without laminitis (n=10) were enrolled and assigned into two groups. All animals were receiving the same daily ration formulated to contain 47% cornsilage and 18% hay, mainly. Effects of subclinical laminitis challenges on measurements of feces, and blood samples, were investigated to determine which of these measurements may aid in the diagnosis. pH changes in ruminal fluid collected via rumenocentesis were measured. Besides the following parameters were also measured; blood pH, faecal pH and faecal scoring. Blinded investigators performed the sample collection. Results. No statistical differences between the groups were detected for blood gas values studied regarding pCO2, HCO3, BE, indeed mean that pO2 values decreased statistically (p<0.05) and faecal pH was significantly decreased (p<0.05) in cows with subclinical laminitis in contrast to healthy controls. Conclusions. pO2 values and faecal pH may be valuable as indirect indicators of subclinical laminitis in cattle.RESUMENObjetivos. El objetivo de esta prueba de campo fue investigar las relaciones entre la laminitis subclínicay alteraciones hematológicas, ruminales y fecales. Materiales y métodos. Las vacas lecheras que presentaron laminitis subclínica (n=11) y las vacas sanas sin laminitis (n=10) fueron reclutadas y asignadas en dos grupos. Todos los animales recibieron la misma ración diaria que contenía 47% de ensilaje de maíz y 18% de heno, principalmente. Los efectos de la laminitis subclínica sobre las mediciones de las heces y muestras de sangre, fueron investigados para determinar cuál de estas mediciones pueden ayudar en el diagnóstico. Se midieron los cambios de pH en el fluido ruminal recogido a través rumenocentesis. Además, también se midieron los siguientes parámetros; pH de la sangre, el pH fecal y la puntuación fecal. La toma de las muestras se realizó a doble ciego. Resultados. No se detectaron diferencias significativas entre los grupos para los valores de los gases sanguíneos estudiados en relación con la pCO2, HCO3, BE; lo que significa que los valores de pO2 disminuyeron estadísticamente (p<0.05) y que el pH fecal se redujo significativamente (p<0.05) en las vacas con laminitis subclínica; en contraste con los controles sanos. Conclusiones. Los valores de PO2 y pH fecal pueden ser valiosos como indicadores indirectos de la laminitis subclínica en el ganado.

Objetivo: sistematizar o conhecimento acerca dos efeitos do trabalho em turnos no estado nutricional e comportamento alimentar em trabalhadores em turnos. Método: trata-se de um estudo bibliográfico, tipo revisão Integrativa da literatura, com coleta em dupla nas bases de dados MEDLINE, Web of Science e Science Direct aplicando-se os descritores controlados em saúde: “Shift Work Schedule” and “Nutritional Status” and “Feeding Behavior”, para trabalhos publicados entre 2014 e 2019. Resultados: encontraram-se seis artigos e se verificou a associação entre trabalho em turnos, sobrepeso/obesidade e hábitos alimentares inadequados. Conclusão: concluiu-se que o excesso de peso e o comportamento alimentar inadequado são fatores de risco para agravos à saúde, e ações de educação nutricional e higiene do sono durante a escala de trabalho são recomendadas para melhorar a qualidade de vida desses trabalhadores. Descritores: Jornada de Trabalho em Turnos; Estado Nutricional; Comportamento Alimentar; Ritmo Circadiano; Privação do Sono; Dieta Saudável.AbstractObjective: to systematize the knowledge about the effects of shift work on nutritional status and eating behavior in shift workers. Method: this is a bibliographic study, integrative literature review, with double collection in MEDLINE, Web of Science and Science Direct databases applying the controlled descriptors in health: “Shift Work Schedule” and “Nutritional Status” And “Food Behavior”, for papers published between 2014 and 2019. Results: six articles were found and the association between shift work, overweight / obesity and inappropriate eating habits was found. Conclusion: it was concluded that overweight and inadequate eating behavior are risk factors for health problems, and nutrition education and sleep hygiene during the work schedule are recommended to improve the quality of life of these workers. Descriptors: Shift Work Schedule; Nutritional Status; Feeding Behavior; Circadian Rhythm; Sleep Deprivation; Healthy Diet.ResumenObjetivo: sistematizar el conocimiento sobre los efectos del trabajo por turnos sobre el estado nutricional y el comportamiento alimentario en los trabajadores por turnos. Método: este es un estudio bibliográfico, tipo de revisión de literatura integradora, con doble recolección en las bases de datos MEDLINE, Web of Science y Science Direct que aplican los descriptores controlados en salud: “Shift Work Schedule” y “Nutritional Status” y “Feeding Behavior”, para artículos publicados entre 2014 y 2019. Resultados: se encontraron seis artículos y se encontró la asociación entre el trabajo por turnos, el sobrepeso / obesidad y los hábitos alimenticios inapropiados. Conclusión: se concluyó que el sobrepeso y el comportamiento alimentario inadecuado son factores de riesgo para problemas de salud, y se recomienda la educación nutricional y las acciones de higiene del sueño durante la escala de trabajo para mejorar la calidad de vida de estos trabajadores. Descriptores: Jornada de Trabajo en Turnos; Estado Nutricional; Comportamiento Alimentario; Ritmo Circadiano; Privación de Sueño; Dieta Saludable.

Determinación densidad de plantas/ha, en la siembra de ají paprika variedad Papriking para obtener campos con 80% de recojo y con daño mecánico menor al 25% en un proceso de cosecha mecanizada con cabezales de rotación invertida en Agrícola Cerro Prieto S.A.C Density determination of plants/ha, in the planting of air paprika variety Papriking for fields with 80% of pickup, and mechanical damage with less than 25% in a process of mechanized harvest heads with inverted rotation in Agricultural Cerro Prieto S.A. C Carlos Gozzer Puescas Escuela de Post Grado, Universidad Nacional de Trujillo, Av. Juan Pablo II S/N. Trujillo, Perú. DOI: https://doi.org/10.33017/RevECIPeru2013.0015/ Resumen El presente artículo titulado “Determinación densidad de plantas/ha, en la siembra de ají paprika variedad papriking para obtener campos con 80% de recojo y con daño mecánico menor al 25% en un proceso de cosecha mecanizada con cabezales de rotación invertida en Agrícola Cerro Prieto S.A.C.” ha sido desarrollado con la finalidad de determinar la densidad de la siembra de ají paprika para lograr la mecanización de cultivo paprika. El trabajo de investigación se realizó en la Empresa Agrícola Cerro Prieto S.A.C, dedicada a la producción, empaque y comercialización de productos agrícolas ubicada en el norte del Perú, entre los valles de Jequetepeque y Zaña, y es producto del desarrollo de una irrigación 100% privada que abarca 5,700 hectáreas [1]. Para el desarrollo del presente trabajo se ha utilizado la observación como técnica de recopilación de datos, lo cual sirvió como fuente de información para determinar el alcance del proyecto. Analizamos diferentes densidades de siembra para logrando determinar plantas/ha que permitan obtener campos con 80% de recojo. Para ello el presente trabajo fue de tipo experimental y se trabajó con 3 densidades distintas (66,000/133,000/266,000) plantas /ha con irrigación de manguera simple y doble. Como resultado de esta investigación podemos concluir que mediante la determinación de densidad (266,000 Plantas /ha) se puede obtener una mecanización de cosecha de ají paprika con un daño mecánico menor del 25%. Descriptores: papriking. Abstract This article entitled "Determining density of plants/ha in planting ají paprika variety papriking to obtain fields with 80% of pickup, and mechanical damage with less than 25% in a process of mechanized harvest heads with inverted rotation in agricultural cerro prieto S.A. C. " has been developed with the purpose to determine the density of planting of ají paprika to achieve the mechanization of crop paprika. The work of research was conducted at the Cerro Prieto Agricultural Company S.A.C, dedicated to the production, packaging and marketing of agricultural products located in the north of Peru, between the valleys of Jequetepeque and Zana, and is a product of the development of a 100% private irrigation that covers 5.700 hectares [1]. For the development of this work has been used as observation data collection technique, which served as a source of information to determine the scope of the project. We analyze different planting densities for achieving determine plants/ha to obtain fields with 80% of pickup. For this reason, the present work was experimental and was working with 3 different densities (66.000 /133.000 /266.000) plants/ha with irrigation of single and double hose. As a result of this investigation, we can conclude that using the density determination (266.000 plants/has) you can obtain a mechanization of crop of aji paprika with a mechanical damage less than 25 %. Keywords: papriking.

En 2004, X. Andrade, antropólogo, creó una plataforma de arte llamada Corporación Full Dollar. Entre junio y agosto de 2013, Andrade presentó The Full Dollar Collection of Contemporary Art, en la galería dpm (Guayaquil) y en El Conteiner (Quito). The Full Dollar es una serie de 23 imágenes elaboradas por Victor «Don Pili» Escalante, oriundo de Playas, quien, en su propuesta, se apropia de obras de arte contemporáneo y las reconstruye bajo el lenguaje de la gráfica popular. post(s) presenta una conversación con Andrade sobre los temas que giran alrededor del proyecto: la crítica al mercado, la réplica, la cultura popular…Anamaría Garzón (AG): En las últimas décadas, las tendencias del arte contemporáneo apuntan hacia corrientes que convierten al artista en etnógrafo (Hal Foster) o en historiador (Mark Godfrey). Haces un proceso a la inversa: el antropólogo como artista. ¿Puedes explicar cómo ejecutas ese tránsito inverso?X. Andrade (XA): Recorro un camino de doble vía plagado de obstáculos. Por un lado están las discusiones del arte, que hablan del artista como etnógrafo, y dan cuenta de un traslado de los artistas hacia otro tipo de praxis a través de estrategias distintas a las usuales. Y, por otro, está el interés de la antropología por el arte contemporáneo, trazable a partir de una genealogía más bien corta, a un par de nichos de discusión que están centrados en Europa, a través de Amanda Ravetz, Arnd Schneider y Christopher Wright, quienes han publicado varios volúmenes en esta dirección; y en Estados Unidos, a través de los aportes de George Marcus, Fred Myers, Sally Price y James Clifford. Mis influencias teóricas más importantes vienen del lado de la antropología y de las discusiones sobre las formas posibles de hacer trabajo de campo, ya no como una instancia de observación participante, sino como una instancia de catalización de procesos de conocimiento donde el antropólogo moviliza discusiones a partir del reconocimiento sobre su presencia activa en el campo. Las exhibiciones de The Full Dollar Collection of Contemporary Art son cortes en un proyecto de investigación más amplio que he tratado de sistematizar alrededor de «lo popular» en distintos años. Ahora trabajo con el lenguaje de la ilustración popular en diálogo directo con un pintor heredero de dicha tradición, «Don Pili» Escalante, del pueblito pesquero de Playas, Ecuador. El hecho de que sea un trabajador de provincia es importante porque su trabajo como rotulista habla fehacientemente de la importancia de la localidad y de cómo aquella expresa flujos regionales y globales paralelamente.Hugo Burgos (HB): Hay una doble entrada: el sentido que viene dado por lo artístico, y la antropología renunciando a la objetividad para empezar a colaborar. Pero al generar este giro debes transparentar: ¿dónde está tu intención política, tu relación ética con la obra? Podríamos asumir que no te debes a nadie, pero es un trabajo colaborativo. Hay un tallerista, y si bien el producto es ilícito, la persona no escapa de ese doble anclaje. ¿Cómo lo negocias y dónde están esas costuras?XA: Esta exhibición ha despertado una serie de preguntas, porque una cosa es establecer una relación dialógica con un informante en un proceso etnográfico, y otra es trabajar con alguien a quien comisionas obra y [donde] el punto de partida es un intercambio económico. Mi interés sobre el coleccionismo parte de la lectura del libro del Lindemann [Coleccionar Arte Contemporáneo],1 que es una especie de biblia para mi proyecto, donde se compilan las voces de la gente dura del coleccionismo —los que hacen billete—, y la única voz que está excluida es la del artista. Entonces, ¿es una relación etnográfica la establecida para mi colección? Sí y no. Tenemos un diálogo que está sujeto a la lógica de producción de una obra que yo comisiono y parte de un intercambio mercantil claro y sin misterios. Don Pili espera un pago, determinado por cómo tasa su obra con respecto a las obras o trabajos que hace cotidianamente desde hace mucho tiempo, y ese precio ha ido evolucionando de manera sui géneris durante estos cuatro años de colaboración. Son solo 23 piezas producidas desde 2009. No he logrado comisionarle una por mes, por ejemplo, para que tenga un recurso estable adicional a su salario. Pero eso ya marca una diferencia. En el momento en que entras a una relación económica, mi política es tener las reglas claras. Parte del método es distinguir cómo establecemos el diálogo sobre las obras; la otra parte es cómo manejamos la creación de valor de las obras. Cuando se exhibieron en Guayaquil se vendieron siete, y para cada uno eso significa algo diferente. Ha generado probablemente una serie de sospechas de parte de Don Pili hacia mí, sospechas en el buen sentido. No se han desatado tensiones, pero sí preguntas sobre el modus operandi del arte. Mi posición es más compleja que en una etnografía tradicional porque en este momento puedes leer mi rol como el de un marchante de la obra de Don Pili, como un curador, o como un coleccionista de la obra que forma parte de mi colección privada de arte que ahora se hace pública y sale por primera vez a la venta. Porque así nació el proyecto, con el afán de crearme —para mi propio consumo— una colección de arte contemporáneo en el lenguaje de la rotulación popular.HB: ¿Después eso se desborda a la academia, a la academia dura de papel y presentaciones? Porque también es ilícito por ese lado, hay un tráfico de una práctica mercantilizada.XA: Soy consciente de que el proyecto genera un espacio dialógico bastante particular porque sé que mi circuito no se intersecta normalmente con el de Don Pili. En Los Ángeles2 traté de usar el mismo método, con un artista visual que cede su obra y un rotulista a quien le pido que se apropie y la convierta en un rótulo comercial. Pero en esa instancia de diálogo los rotulistas piden que se les trate como artistas. Ello revela que, en Los Ángeles, las relaciones de poder entre arte y rotulismo son diferentes, se cruzan, los rotulistas son gente formada en escuelas, etc. Entonces esa etiqueta que la manejo tan fácilmente aquí —si ves cómo la prensa lidia con Don Pili es fascinante, ciertos periodistas lo ven como un «rotulista» y creo que hasta ahora nadie lo califica como «artista», que es como yo lo veo— refleja desencuentros y un contexto de relaciones de poder claramente estructuradas y desiguales, de las que yo soy consciente. Hay expectativas y agendas diferentes de mi parte y de parte de Don Pili, quien quiere aprovechar el proyecto para hacerse ver como un artista capaz de reproducir lo que le pongas en frente.AG: ¿Cómo es el proceso de toma de decisiones, la selección de obras y de títulos? ¿En qué medida aporta Don Pili en la intervención?XA: En 2009, fui a Playas con el libro referido y le pedí que trabajáramos sobre tres imágenes: las de Sarah Lucas, Gilbert and George y Paul McCarthy, una selección arbitraria realmente. Le pedí que hiciéramos una prueba, que destacara los materiales que usa para pintar, el esmalte, el colorido… Le pedí que absorbiera desde su tradición tipográfica y que creara unos rótulos donde la tipografía se articulara con la imagen, y que de esa manera sirviera para ilustrar un negocio hipotético. Don Pili lo entendió a su manera y la única pregunta que hizo fue: «¿El rótulo va a ser colocado dentro o fuera del negocio?», pensando las obras desde su propia locación y lectura del proyecto. Quise tener un método que funcionara de forma automática, donde jugáramos con el nombre del artista o de la obra, y viéramos hasta qué punto podemos lidiar con el poder ilustrativo de la imagen.AG: ¿Crees que más que hablar de apropiación de imágenes se puede hablar de reconstrucción en el lenguaje de la gráfica popular? Porque no solo se apropian y replican, sino que crean con otros medios, es evidente en los materiales, las pinceladas, los colores…XA: Sí. No es mera apropiación. En Los Ángeles, Irene Tsatsos, directora del The Armory Center for the Arts, me decía que es un proyecto basado en la falsa traducción, porque cuando Don Pili traduce una imagen como la de Gilbert and George, lo hace a partir de su tradición rotulista y altera significativamente la imagen. El original de esa obra, Sting-land, es de enorme escala, y Don Pili lo reduce a una placa de madera y esmalte, agrega tipografía y texto para que funcione como rótulo, y en esa traducción hay una suma de traducciones fallidas en el camino. También hay que tener en cuenta que Don Pili necesita optimizar su tiempo, entonces utiliza talleristas; y cuando meten la pata, pone el grito en el aire y decide hacer la obra él mismo. Esas cosas juegan bien con el proyecto, que es copia de copia, copia fallida de copia.Y con referencia a la pregunta sobre la academia, algo que me fascina es que ahí se acostumbra a defender el derecho autoral, pero aquí no. ¿Quién es dueño de qué? Don Pili hace patente su autoría en algunas de las obras, no en todas. El proyecto es mío, la factura manual es suya, pero algunos giros y textos son míos. Entonces es muy complicada esa cuestión de autoría. El rótulo principal de la galería, donde dice Full Dollar Collection, es una apropiación de Don Pili de un diseño de Oswaldo Terreros, quien a su vez intenta aludir a un diseño desde la gráfica popular. Todos terminamos en esa lógica de la réplica, y eso es lo valioso para mí como artista/antropólogo. Hablamos de La vida social de las cosas a partir de Appadurai, y seguimos enfatizando en el referente único y auténtico cuando la mayoría de nosotros vivimos con réplicas, las adoramos, tenemos altares de réplicas religiosas en nuestras casas… Como antropólogo, me interesa el valor de la réplica. Como artista, mis verdaderos intereses están en las copias. Con tanto legado visual creado, ¿para qué me voy a preocupar de ser original? Con la derrota del genio artístico, ¿para qué reiterar su valor? Lo popular es algo imbuido de la naturaleza serial de las cosas; eso es lo que me interesa destacar: la serie y el aura que emite la copia.AG: Al hablar del valor de la réplica y de economía visual, también propones un juego para encontrar referentes en un lugar donde las obras de muchos de los artistas ni siquiera se conocen, y propones una crítica al hipermercantilismo en un lugar donde no hay siquiera un mercado.XA: Buen punto, y se puede ver que hay una decisión explícita al respecto, reflejada en la ausencia de placas museográficas. La muestra está diseñada para ser una especie de prueba sobre el saber del arte contemporáneo en el medio ecuatoriano. La primera opción de los visitantes es total ignorancia: alguien entra, lee la serie como rótulos y dice: «¿Qué hace eso en la galería?». La segunda es que tal vez se topen con Jeff Koons o con Damien Hirst, que son imágenes icónicas de los noventa, y tengan una pista; pero después tienes esta serie de rótulos que son absurdos, rótulos que son jocosos, irónicos, sarcásticos. Es una crítica al coleccionismo de arte a nivel global, que ciertamente no alude a dinámicas locales, y por otro lado está la idea de jugar con el nivel de conocimiento que tenemos sobre esas tradiciones. Además, el arte juega con estrategias con las que me identifico plenamente porque los códigos de corrección política de la academia me resultan extremadamente aburridos. El sarcasmo, la ironía, la parodia, esos códigos que están excluidos de la academia me permiten hacerlos patente en todos los proyectos que hago con Full Dollar. El arte me salva de la academia, aunque lo que hago sea antropología por otros medios.HB: ¿El énfasis por usar rotulación, que es un lenguaje mercantilizado, como elemento de traducción para Don Pili, tiene que ver con la idea de dar una visibilidad emblemática a la cultura popular, que también condensa lo mercantilista, el mundo de consumo?XA: Exactamente. Cuando me dijeron que definiera el proyecto, dije que es una crítica al coleccionismo contemporáneo a través del lenguaje de la rotulación popular; y eso tiene una doble misión. Por un lado, entrometer las dinámicas de rotulación o las tradiciones de la gráfica popular dentro de espacios legitimados del arte, con todo lo precarios que son en el medio. Desde mi mirada de antropólogo interesado en culturas populares, también quise resaltar que tenemos un legado interesante al respecto, porque la rotulación en Ecuador es bastante similar a la de Perú o Argentina, y no conocemos la genealogía de esos flujos. Entonces, la importancia de la rotulación popular tiene que ver con formular una crítica al coleccionismo desde esa lógica, mostrando un conflicto entre esos mundos, si se quiere, entre lo bajo y lo alto, que es tan problemático. Y aparte está una de las misiones que tiene este tipo de proyectos, que es visibilizar un legado cuyo estatus de «ecuatoriano» es dudoso precisamente por sus conexiones con flujos más amplios y que necesitan todavía ser trazados desde la historia, en este caso representado magníficamente por el trabajo de Don Pili.HB: Es interesante pensar también que todo esto es muy benjaminiano, en el sentido de «la obra de arte en la era de la reproductibilidad técnica». Creo que nunca se aboga o se espera el original. Vivimos en un mundo de falsos, de copias de las copias. Escoge un ámbito y es un reciclaje. Vivimos eternamente en el pasado, citando a Jameson o a Appadurai. Entonces, ¿cuál es el siguiente nivel de discusiones que podemos punzar, potenciar o movilizar?XA: Creo que hay varios. Uno tendría que ver con las discusiones que tenemos en antropología: ¿qué tipo de tradiciones de estudios se establecen? ¿Cuáles son los objetos legítimos de reflexión antropológica? Ahí viene la idea de la réplica y la apropiación, y creo que hay que tratarlo como un campo de legitimación. La gente que investiga en cultura material está abogando por eso. Para la subdisciplina de antropología visual, que es el campo donde me muevo en el país, lo que me interesa es fomentar otros tipos de referentes y objetos de estudios, quizás contrarios a la trayectoria andeanista de la disciplina. En el campo del arte no soy el primero que hace eso, ni mucho menos. Todo lo contrario. Hay casi un siglo de transposiciones desde el ready made, el collage surrealista, las apropiaciones y recontextualizaciones dadaístas, y las convenciones pop, pero estoy tratando de provocar una discusión que tiene que ver con las fronteras entre quién es artista y quién no; las relaciones de poder en la producción del sistema del arte; por qué un antropólogo puede pasar las fronteras del arte y un artista tiene más reticencias para ser acogido en el campo de la teoría; quiénes me brindan la autoridad para hablar desde el campo del arte; cuáles son los dispositivos que legitiman mis prácticas; cómo se generan sospechas o indiferencia en el arte y en la antropología. El camino que recorro es de doble vía pero poblado de obstáculos disciplinarios, resultantes de la multiplicidad de sospechas y competencias que han constituido históricamente la relación entre antropología y arte, desde la eficacia simbólica de Lévi-Strauss, pasando por la etnoestética de Howard Murphy hasta, con Alfred Gell, la comprensión del arte de la otredad a través de las preguntas puestas sobre la mesa por el arte conceptual. Si el peso de la mirada modernista ha encapsulado buena parte del debate entre ambos campos —preguntas sobre autenticidad, originalidad, genio, funcionalidad, etc.—, ahora hay una interrogación más productiva sobre el arte y el mundo de losobjetos. Es ahí donde me sitúo: ubicando al arte en el imperio de los objetos, para parafrasear a Fred Myers, interrogando su circulación y la creación de valor. Parte de la serie The Full Dollar Collection ha sido vendida a coleccionistas importantes del país. ¿Qué significa eso exactamente? Al mismo tiempo, paralelamente al show en El Conteiner, Don Pili fue contratado para retocar el logo de El Pobre Diablo. ¿Qué signfica eso? Las relaciones desiguales de poder no se resuelven con un proyecto de esta naturaleza. Las exhibiciones crean un espacio de encuentro, pero también de fricciones decidoras sobre el estatus de uno u otro circuito, de uno u otro actor social, de una u otra tradición. Adiós a cualquier posicion ingenua en la materia.AG: Cuando hablas de la relación de poder en la producción del sistema del arte,¿cómo aterrizas en la dimensión ética que esa relación establece en tu trabajo con Don Pili? No es un contrato sencillo, porque intervienes en su espacio de creación, en su cotidianidad…XA: El principal dilema es la relación de dependencia. No sé si es posible convertirme en un patrono, porque no sé hasta cuándo voy a poder trabajar en esta serie. Después de estas exhibiciones, estoy teniendo diálogos con alguna gente, para darle un nuevo giro, para que la relación respetuosa con Don Pili se preserve, pero también se mantenga una producción. Don Pili tiene una expectativa puesta en este tipo de relación; él necesita los recursos, y tambiénreconocimiento y respeto. Estaba muy contento con la atención de los medios, porque eso lo convierte en una sensación en Playas y la gente lo ve de otra manera. Eso es importante a nivel simbólico. Pero claro, soy consciente de las relaciones de poder en las que me estoy moviendo. También es posible que otra gente le empiece a comisionar obras o quiera réplicas de lo que vio en la exposición. La muestra conlleva un sinnúmero de preguntas sobre autenticidad y réplica, y propiedad intelectual, y negociaciones entre las partes.HB: Es interesante porque el tipo de proyecto se presta para esto. Anclado en la rotulación popular, es posible que alguien pida que hagas otro, y a pesar de ser un trabajomanual único, viene ese dilema, la pregunta de dónde radica esa unicidad; porque es el trazo de Don Pili, pero es una técnica para objetos de circulación comercial…XA: Claro. En los tiburones de Hirst —que son los únicos que son réplica de réplica estrictamente hablando dentro de la serie— se ve claramente que ambas versiones son harto diferentes. El de arriba es el original y el otro es su copia, pero viene con una tipografía distinta, otro tamaño, otros colores. Y ver eso es fascinante, porque abre preguntas sobre qué significa hacer una réplica y hacer evidente las variaciones que se dan a nivel manual, que fueron elecciones deliberadas de Don Pili, para que el cuadro no sea una copia, pese a que esa era la consigna.HB: Mary Douglas decía que la antropología es la disciplina textual por excelencia: traer el conocimiento, la experiencia, y ponerla en otro texto. Don Pili hace eso, en un registro limitado, pero ocurre. Hay un conocimiento y una manera de acceder. Es interesante leerlo de esta manera, como un juego de espejos, porque hay una lectura de Don Pili sumada a las reglas del sistema de representación. Son instancias dentro deotro punto de exploración. La presentación de The Full Dollar Collection of Contemporary Art es apenas un corte en el trabajo de investigación de X. Andrade. Abre una discusión valiosa sobre la legitimidad de los sistemas del arte, sobre el consumo de réplicas, sobre esa relación de ida y vuelta entre el arte y la academia, que propone nuevas formas de exploración de los sujetos y sus contextos. post(s).

Introduction Crime fiction is one of the world’s most popular genres. Indeed, it has been estimated that as many as one in every three new novels, published in English, is classified within the crime fiction category (Knight xi). These new entrants to the market are forced to jostle for space on bookstore and library shelves with reprints of classic crime novels; such works placed in, often fierce, competition against their contemporaries as well as many of their predecessors. Raymond Chandler, in his well-known essay The Simple Art of Murder, noted Ernest Hemingway’s observation that “the good writer competes only with the dead. The good detective story writer […] competes not only with all the unburied dead but with all the hosts of the living as well” (3). In fact, there are so many examples of crime fiction works that, as early as the 1920s, one of the original ‘Queens of Crime’, Dorothy L. Sayers, complained: It is impossible to keep track of all the detective-stories produced to-day [sic]. Book upon book, magazine upon magazine pour out from the Press, crammed with murders, thefts, arsons, frauds, conspiracies, problems, puzzles, mysteries, thrills, maniacs, crooks, poisoners, forgers, garrotters, police, spies, secret-service men, detectives, until it seems that half the world must be engaged in setting riddles for the other half to solve (95). Twenty years after Sayers wrote on the matter of the vast quantities of crime fiction available, W.H. Auden wrote one of the more famous essays on the genre: The Guilty Vicarage: Notes on the Detective Story, by an Addict. Auden is, perhaps, better known as a poet but his connection to the crime fiction genre is undisputed. As well as his poetic works that reference crime fiction and commentaries on crime fiction, one of Auden’s fellow poets, Cecil Day-Lewis, wrote a series of crime fiction novels under the pseudonym Nicholas Blake: the central protagonist of these novels, Nigel Strangeways, was modelled upon Auden (Scaggs 27). Interestingly, some writers whose names are now synonymous with the genre, such as Edgar Allan Poe and Raymond Chandler, established the link between poetry and crime fiction many years before the publication of The Guilty Vicarage. Edmund Wilson suggested that “reading detective stories is simply a kind of vice that, for silliness and minor harmfulness, ranks somewhere between crossword puzzles and smoking” (395). In the first line of The Guilty Vicarage, Auden supports Wilson’s claim and confesses that: “For me, as for many others, the reading of detective stories is an addiction like tobacco or alcohol” (406). This indicates that the genre is at best a trivial pursuit, at worst a pursuit that is bad for your health and is, increasingly, socially unacceptable, while Auden’s ideas around taste—high and low—are made clear when he declares that “detective stories have nothing to do with works of art” (406). The debates that surround genre and taste are many and varied. The mid-1920s was a point in time which had witnessed crime fiction writers produce some of the finest examples of fiction to ever be published and when readers and publishers were watching, with anticipation, as a new generation of crime fiction writers were readying themselves to enter what would become known as the genre’s Golden Age. At this time, R. Austin Freeman wrote that: By the critic and the professedly literary person the detective story is apt to be dismissed contemptuously as outside the pale of literature, to be conceived of as a type of work produced by half-educated and wholly incompetent writers for consumption by office boys, factory girls, and other persons devoid of culture and literary taste (7). This article responds to Auden’s essay and explores how crime fiction appeals to many different tastes: tastes that are acquired, change over time, are embraced, or kept as guilty secrets. In addition, this article will challenge Auden’s very narrow definition of crime fiction and suggest how Auden’s religious imagery, deployed to explain why many people choose to read crime fiction, can be incorporated into a broader popular discourse on punishment. This latter argument demonstrates that a taste for crime fiction and a taste for justice are inextricably intertwined. Crime Fiction: A Type For Every Taste Cathy Cole has observed that “crime novels are housed in their own section in many bookshops, separated from literary novels much as you’d keep a child with measles away from the rest of the class” (116). Times have changed. So too, have our tastes. Crime fiction, once sequestered in corners, now demands vast tracts of prime real estate in bookstores allowing readers to “make their way to the appropriate shelves, and begin to browse […] sorting through a wide variety of very different types of novels” (Malmgren 115). This is a result of the sheer size of the genre, noted above, as well as the genre’s expanding scope. Indeed, those who worked to re-invent crime fiction in the 1800s could not have envisaged the “taxonomic exuberance” (Derrida 206) of the writers who have defined crime fiction sub-genres, as well as how readers would respond by not only wanting to read crime fiction but also wanting to read many different types of crime fiction tailored to their particular tastes. To understand the demand for this diversity, it is important to reflect upon some of the appeal factors of crime fiction for readers. Many rules have been promulgated for the writers of crime fiction to follow. Ronald Knox produced a set of 10 rules in 1928. These included Rule 3 “Not more than one secret room or passage is allowable”, and Rule 10 “Twin brothers, and doubles generally, must not appear unless we have been duly prepared for them” (194–6). In the same year, S.S. Van Dine produced another list of 20 rules, which included Rule 3 “There must be no love interest: The business in hand is to bring a criminal to the bar of justice, not to bring a lovelorn couple to the hymeneal altar”, and Rule 7 “There simply must be a corpse in a detective novel, and the deader the corpse the better” (189–93). Some of these directives have been deliberately ignored or have become out-of-date over time while others continue to be followed in contemporary crime writing practice. In sharp contrast, there are no rules for reading this genre. Individuals are, generally, free to choose what, where, when, why, and how they read crime fiction. There are, however, different appeal factors for readers. The most common of these appeal factors, often described as doorways, are story, setting, character, and language. As the following passage explains: The story doorway beckons those who enjoy reading to find out what happens next. The setting doorway opens widest for readers who enjoy being immersed in an evocation of place or time. The doorway of character is for readers who enjoy looking at the world through others’ eyes. Readers who most appreciate skilful writing enter through the doorway of language (Wyatt online). These doorways draw readers to the crime fiction genre. There are stories that allow us to easily predict what will come next or make us hold our breath until the very last page, the books that we will cheerfully lend to a family member or a friend and those that we keep close to hand to re-read again and again. There are settings as diverse as country manors, exotic locations, and familiar city streets, places we have been and others that we might want to explore. There are characters such as the accidental sleuth, the hardboiled detective, and the refined police officer, amongst many others, the men and women—complete with idiosyncrasies and flaws—who we have grown to admire and trust. There is also the language that all writers, regardless of genre, depend upon to tell their tales. In crime fiction, even the most basic task of describing where the murder victim was found can range from words that convey the genteel—“The room of the tragedy” (Christie 62)—to the absurd: “There it was, jammed between a pallet load of best export boneless beef and half a tonne of spring lamb” (Maloney 1). These appeal factors indicate why readers might choose crime fiction over another genre, or choose one type of crime fiction over another. Yet such factors fail to explain what crime fiction is or adequately answer why the genre is devoured in such vast quantities. Firstly, crime fiction stories are those in which there is the committing of a crime, or at least the suspicion of a crime (Cole), and the story that unfolds revolves around the efforts of an amateur or professional detective to solve that crime (Scaggs). Secondly, crime fiction offers the reassurance of resolution, a guarantee that from “previous experience and from certain cultural conventions associated with this genre that ultimately the mystery will be fully explained” (Zunshine 122). For Auden, the definition of the crime novel was quite specific, and he argued that referring to the genre by “the vulgar definition, ‘a Whodunit’ is correct” (407). Auden went on to offer a basic formula stating that: “a murder occurs; many are suspected; all but one suspect, who is the murderer, are eliminated; the murderer is arrested or dies” (407). The idea of a formula is certainly a useful one, particularly when production demands—in terms of both quality and quantity—are so high, because the formula facilitates creators in the “rapid and efficient production of new works” (Cawelti 9). For contemporary crime fiction readers, the doorways to reading, discussed briefly above, have been cast wide open. Stories relying upon the basic crime fiction formula as a foundation can be gothic tales, clue puzzles, forensic procedurals, spy thrillers, hardboiled narratives, or violent crime narratives, amongst many others. The settings can be quiet villages or busy metropolises, landscapes that readers actually inhabit or that provide a form of affordable tourism. These stories can be set in the past, the here and now, or the future. Characters can range from Edgar Allan Poe’s C. Auguste Dupin to Dashiell Hammett’s Sam Spade, from Agatha Christie’s Miss Jane Marple to Kerry Greenwood’s Honourable Phryne Fisher. Similarly, language can come in numerous styles from the direct (even rough) words of Carter Brown to the literary prose of Peter Temple. Anything is possible, meaning everything is available to readers. For Auden—although he required a crime to be committed and expected that crime to be resolved—these doorways were only slightly ajar. For him, the story had to be a Whodunit; the setting had to be rural England, though a college setting was also considered suitable; the characters had to be “eccentric (aesthetically interesting individuals) and good (instinctively ethical)” and there needed to be a “completely satisfactory detective” (Sherlock Holmes, Inspector French, and Father Brown were identified as “satisfactory”); and the language descriptive and detailed (406, 409, 408). To illustrate this point, Auden’s concept of crime fiction has been plotted on a taxonomy, below, that traces the genre’s main developments over a period of three centuries. As can be seen, much of what is, today, taken for granted as being classified as crime fiction is completely excluded from Auden’s ideal. Figure 1: Taxonomy of Crime Fiction (Adapted from Franks, Murder 136) Crime Fiction: A Personal Journey I discovered crime fiction the summer before I started high school when I saw the film version of The Big Sleep starring Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. A few days after I had seen the film I started reading the Raymond Chandler novel of the same title, featuring his famous detective Philip Marlowe, and was transfixed by the second paragraph: The main hallway of the Sternwood place was two stories high. Over the entrance doors, which would have let in a troop of Indian elephants, there was a broad stained-glass panel showing a knight in dark armour rescuing a lady who was tied to a tree and didn’t have any clothes on but some very long and convenient hair. The knight had pushed the visor of his helmet back to be sociable, and he was fiddling with the knots on the ropes that tied the lady to the tree and not getting anywhere. I stood there and thought that if I lived in the house, I would sooner or later have to climb up there and help him. He didn’t seem to be really trying (9). John Scaggs has written that this passage indicates Marlowe is an idealised figure, a knight of romance rewritten onto the mean streets of mid-20th century Los Angeles (62); a relocation Susan Roland calls a “secular form of the divinely sanctioned knight errant on a quest for metaphysical justice” (139): my kind of guy. Like many young people I looked for adventure and escape in books, a search that was realised with Raymond Chandler and his contemporaries. On the escapism scale, these men with their stories of tough-talking detectives taking on murderers and other criminals, law enforcement officers, and the occasional femme fatale, were certainly a sharp upgrade from C.S. Lewis and the Chronicles of Narnia. After reading the works written by the pioneers of the hardboiled and roman noir traditions, I looked to other American authors such as Edgar Allan Poe who, in the mid-1800s, became the father of the modern detective story, and Thorne Smith who, in the 1920s and 1930s, produced magical realist tales with characters who often chose to dabble on the wrong side of the law. This led me to the works of British crime writers including Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, and Dorothy L. Sayers. My personal library then became dominated by Australian writers of crime fiction, from the stories of bushrangers and convicts of the Colonial era to contemporary tales of police and private investigators. There have been various attempts to “improve” or “refine” my tastes: to convince me that serious literature is real reading and frivolous fiction is merely a distraction. Certainly, the reading of those novels, often described as classics, provide perfect combinations of beauty and brilliance. Their narratives, however, do not often result in satisfactory endings. This routinely frustrates me because, while I understand the philosophical frameworks that many writers operate within, I believe the characters of such works are too often treated unfairly in the final pages. For example, at the end of Ernest Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms, Frederick Henry “left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain” after his son is stillborn and “Mrs Henry” becomes “very ill” and dies (292–93). Another example can be found on the last page of George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four when Winston Smith “gazed up at the enormous face” and he realised that he “loved Big Brother” (311). Endings such as these provide a space for reflection about the world around us but rarely spark an immediate response of how great that world is to live in (Franks Motive). The subject matter of crime fiction does not easily facilitate fairy-tale finishes, yet, people continue to read the genre because, generally, the concluding chapter will show that justice, of some form, will be done. Punishment will be meted out to the ‘bad characters’ that have broken society’s moral or legal laws; the ‘good characters’ may experience hardships and may suffer but they will, generally, prevail. Crime Fiction: A Taste For Justice Superimposed upon Auden’s parameters around crime fiction, are his ideas of the law in the real world and how such laws are interwoven with the Christian-based system of ethics. This can be seen in Auden’s listing of three classes of crime: “(a) offenses against God and one’s neighbor or neighbors; (b) offenses against God and society; (c) offenses against God” (407). Murder, in Auden’s opinion, is a class (b) offense: for the crime fiction novel, the society reflected within the story should be one in “a state of grace, i.e., a society where there is no need of the law, no contradiction between the aesthetic individual and the ethical universal, and where murder, therefore, is the unheard-of act which precipitates a crisis” (408). Additionally, in the crime novel “as in its mirror image, the Quest for the Grail, maps (the ritual of space) and timetables (the ritual of time) are desirable. Nature should reflect its human inhabitants, i.e., it should be the Great Good Place; for the more Eden-like it is, the greater the contradiction of murder” (408). Thus, as Charles J. Rzepka notes, “according to W.H. Auden, the ‘classical’ English detective story typically re-enacts rites of scapegoating and expulsion that affirm the innocence of a community of good people supposedly ignorant of evil” (12). This premise—of good versus evil—supports Auden’s claim that the punishment of wrongdoers, particularly those who claim the “right to be omnipotent” and commit murder (409), should be swift and final: As to the murderer’s end, of the three alternatives—execution, suicide, and madness—the first is preferable; for if he commits suicide he refuses to repent, and if he goes mad he cannot repent, but if he does not repent society cannot forgive. Execution, on the other hand, is the act of atonement by which the murderer is forgiven by society (409). The unilateral endorsement of state-sanctioned murder is problematic, however, because—of the main justifications for punishment: retribution; deterrence; incapacitation; and rehabilitation (Carter Snead 1245)—punishment, in this context, focuses exclusively upon retribution and deterrence, incapacitation is achieved by default, but the idea of rehabilitation is completely ignored. This, in turn, ignores how the reading of crime fiction can be incorporated into a broader popular discourse on punishment and how a taste for crime fiction and a taste for justice are inextricably intertwined. One of the ways to explore the connection between crime fiction and justice is through the lens of Emile Durkheim’s thesis on the conscience collective which proposes punishment is a process allowing for the demonstration of group norms and the strengthening of moral boundaries. David Garland, in summarising this thesis, states: So although the modern state has a near monopoly of penal violence and controls the administration of penalties, a much wider population feels itself to be involved in the process of punishment, and supplies the context of social support and valorization within which state punishment takes place (32). It is claimed here that this “much wider population” connecting with the task of punishment can be taken further. Crime fiction, above all other forms of literary production, which, for those who do not directly contribute to the maintenance of their respective legal systems, facilitates a feeling of active participation in the penalising of a variety of perpetrators: from the issuing of fines to incarceration (Franks Punishment). Crime fiction readers are therefore, temporarily at least, direct contributors to a more stable society: one that is clearly based upon right and wrong and reliant upon the conscience collective to maintain and reaffirm order. In this context, the reader is no longer alone, with only their crime fiction novel for company, but has become an active member of “a moral framework which binds individuals to each other and to its conventions and institutions” (Garland 51). This allows crime fiction, once viewed as a “vice” (Wilson 395) or an “addiction” (Auden 406), to be seen as playing a crucial role in the preservation of social mores. It has been argued “only the most literal of literary minds would dispute the claim that fictional characters help shape the way we think of ourselves, and hence help us articulate more clearly what it means to be human” (Galgut 190). Crime fiction focuses on what it means to be human, and how complex humans are, because stories of murders, and the men and women who perpetrate and solve them, comment on what drives some people to take a life and others to avenge that life which is lost and, by extension, engages with a broad community of readers around ideas of justice and punishment. It is, furthermore, argued here that the idea of the story is one of the more important doorways for crime fiction and, more specifically, the conclusions that these stories, traditionally, offer. For Auden, the ending should be one of restoration of the spirit, as he suspected that “the typical reader of detective stories is, like myself, a person who suffers from a sense of sin” (411). In this way, the “phantasy, then, which the detective story addict indulges is the phantasy of being restored to the Garden of Eden, to a state of innocence, where he may know love as love and not as the law” (412), indicating that it was not necessarily an accident that “the detective story has flourished most in predominantly Protestant countries” (408). Today, modern crime fiction is a “broad church, where talented authors raise questions and cast light on a variety of societal and other issues through the prism of an exciting, page-turning story” (Sisterson). Moreover, our tastes in crime fiction have been tempered by a growing fear of real crime, particularly murder, “a crime of unique horror” (Hitchens 200). This has seen some readers develop a taste for crime fiction that is not produced within a framework of ecclesiastical faith but is rather grounded in reliance upon those who enact punishment in both the fictional and real worlds. As P.D. James has written: [N]ot by luck or divine intervention, but by human ingenuity, human intelligence and human courage. It confirms our hope that, despite some evidence to the contrary, we live in a beneficent and moral universe in which problems can be solved by rational means and peace and order restored from communal or personal disruption and chaos (174). Dorothy L. Sayers, despite her work to legitimise crime fiction, wrote that there: “certainly does seem a possibility that the detective story will some time come to an end, simply because the public will have learnt all the tricks” (108). Of course, many readers have “learnt all the tricks”, or most of them. This does not, however, detract from the genre’s overall appeal. We have not grown bored with, or become tired of, the formula that revolves around good and evil, and justice and punishment. Quite the opposite. Our knowledge of, as well as our faith in, the genre’s “tricks” gives a level of confidence to readers who are looking for endings that punish murderers and other wrongdoers, allowing for more satisfactory conclusions than the, rather depressing, ends given to Mr. Henry and Mr. Smith by Ernest Hemingway and George Orwell noted above. Conclusion For some, the popularity of crime fiction is a curious case indeed. When Penguin and Collins published the Marsh Million—100,000 copies each of 10 Ngaio Marsh titles in 1949—the author’s relief at the success of the project was palpable when she commented that “it was pleasant to find detective fiction being discussed as a tolerable form of reading by people whose opinion one valued” (172). More recently, upon the announcement that a Miles Franklin Award would be given to Peter Temple for his crime novel Truth, John Sutherland, a former chairman of the judges for one of the world’s most famous literary awards, suggested that submitting a crime novel for the Booker Prize would be: “like putting a donkey into the Grand National”. Much like art, fashion, food, and home furnishings or any one of the innumerable fields of activity and endeavour that are subject to opinion, there will always be those within the world of fiction who claim positions as arbiters of taste. Yet reading is intensely personal. I like a strong, well-plotted story, appreciate a carefully researched setting, and can admire elegant language, but if a character is too difficult to embrace—if I find I cannot make an emotional connection, if I find myself ambivalent about their fate—then a book is discarded as not being to my taste. It is also important to recognise that some tastes are transient. Crime fiction stories that are popular today could be forgotten tomorrow. Some stories appeal to such a broad range of tastes they are immediately included in the crime fiction canon. Yet others evolve over time to accommodate widespread changes in taste (an excellent example of this can be seen in the continual re-imagining of the stories of Sherlock Holmes). Personal tastes also adapt to our experiences and our surroundings. A book that someone adores in their 20s might be dismissed in their 40s. A storyline that was meaningful when read abroad may lose some of its magic when read at home. Personal events, from a change in employment to the loss of a loved one, can also impact upon what we want to read. Similarly, world events, such as economic crises and military conflicts, can also influence our reading preferences. Auden professed an almost insatiable appetite for crime fiction, describing the reading of detective stories as an addiction, and listed a very specific set of criteria to define the Whodunit. Today, such self-imposed restrictions are rare as, while there are many rules for writing crime fiction, there are no rules for reading this (or any other) genre. People are, generally, free to choose what, where, when, why, and how they read crime fiction, and to follow the deliberate or whimsical paths that their tastes may lay down for them. Crime fiction writers, past and present, offer: an incredible array of detective stories from the locked room to the clue puzzle; settings that range from the English country estate to city skyscrapers in glamorous locations around the world; numerous characters from cerebral sleuths who can solve a crime in their living room over a nice, hot cup of tea to weapon wielding heroes who track down villains on foot in darkened alleyways; and, language that ranges from the cultured conversations from the novels of the genre’s Golden Age to the hard-hitting terminology of forensic and legal procedurals. Overlaid on these appeal factors is the capacity of crime fiction to feed a taste for justice: to engage, vicariously at least, in the establishment of a more stable society. Of course, there are those who turn to the genre for a temporary distraction, an occasional guilty pleasure. There are those who stumble across the genre by accident or deliberately seek it out. There are also those, like Auden, who are addicted to crime fiction. So there are corpses for the conservative and dead bodies for the bloodthirsty. There is, indeed, a murder victim, and a murder story, to suit every reader’s taste. References Auden, W.H. “The Guilty Vicarage: Notes on The Detective Story, By an Addict.” Harper’s Magazine May (1948): 406–12. 1 Dec. 2013 ‹http://www.harpers.org/archive/1948/05/0033206›. Carter Snead, O. “Memory and Punishment.” Vanderbilt Law Review 64.4 (2011): 1195–264. Cawelti, John G. Adventure, Mystery and Romance: Formula Stories as Art and Popular Culture. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1976/1977. Chandler, Raymond. The Big Sleep. London: Penguin, 1939/1970. ––. The Simple Art of Murder. New York: Vintage Books, 1950/1988. Christie, Agatha. The Mysterious Affair at Styles. London: HarperCollins, 1920/2007. Cole, Cathy. Private Dicks and Feisty Chicks: An Interrogation of Crime Fiction. Fremantle: Curtin UP, 2004. Derrida, Jacques. “The Law of Genre.” Glyph 7 (1980): 202–32. Franks, Rachel. “May I Suggest Murder?: An Overview of Crime Fiction for Readers’ Advisory Services Staff.” Australian Library Journal 60.2 (2011): 133–43. ––. “Motive for Murder: Reading Crime Fiction.” The Australian Library and Information Association Biennial Conference. Sydney: Jul. 2012. ––. “Punishment by the Book: Delivering and Evading Punishment in Crime Fiction.” Inter-Disciplinary.Net 3rd Global Conference on Punishment. Oxford: Sep. 2013. Freeman, R.A. “The Art of the Detective Story.” The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Howard Haycraft. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1924/1947. 7–17. Galgut, E. “Poetic Faith and Prosaic Concerns: A Defense of Suspension of Disbelief.” South African Journal of Philosophy 21.3 (2002): 190–99. Garland, David. Punishment and Modern Society: A Study in Social Theory. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1993. Hemingway, Ernest. A Farewell to Arms. London: Random House, 1929/2004. ––. in R. Chandler. The Simple Art of Murder. New York: Vintage Books, 1950/1988. Hitchens, P. A Brief History of Crime: The Decline of Order, Justice and Liberty in England. London: Atlantic Books, 2003. James, P.D. Talking About Detective Fiction. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2009. Knight, Stephen. Crime Fiction since 1800: Death, Detection, Diversity, 2nd ed. New York: Palgrave Macmillian, 2010. Knox, Ronald A. “Club Rules: The 10 Commandments for Detective Novelists, 1928.” Ronald Knox Society of North America. 1 Dec. 2013 ‹http://www.ronaldknoxsociety.com/detective.html›. Malmgren, C.D. “Anatomy of Murder: Mystery, Detective and Crime Fiction.” Journal of Popular Culture Spring (1997): 115–21. Maloney, Shane. The Murray Whelan Trilogy: Stiff, The Brush-Off and Nice Try. Melbourne: Text Publishing, 1994/2008. Marsh, Ngaio in J. Drayton. Ngaio Marsh: Her Life in Crime. Auckland: Harper Collins, 2008. Orwell, George. Nineteen Eighty-Four. London: Penguin Books, 1949/1989. Roland, Susan. From Agatha Christie to Ruth Rendell: British Women Writers in Detective and Crime Fiction. London: Palgrave, 2001. Rzepka, Charles J. Detective Fiction. Cambridge: Polity, 2005. Sayers, Dorothy L. “The Omnibus of Crime.” The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Howard Haycraft. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1928/1947. 71–109. Scaggs, John. Crime Fiction: The New Critical Idiom. London: Routledge, 2005. Sisterson, C. “Battle for the Marsh: Awards 2013.” Black Mask: Pulps, Noir and News of Same. 1 Jan. 2014 http://www.blackmask.com/category/awards-2013/ Sutherland, John. in A. Flood. “Could Miles Franklin turn the Booker Prize to Crime?” The Guardian. 1 Jan. 2014 ‹http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/jun/25/miles-franklin-booker-prize-crime›. Van Dine, S.S. “Twenty Rules for Writing Detective Stories.” The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Howard Haycraft. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1928/1947. 189-93. Wilson, Edmund. “Who Cares Who Killed Roger Ackroyd.” The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Howard Haycraft. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1944/1947. 390–97. Wyatt, N. “Redefining RA: A RA Big Think.” Library Journal Online. 1 Jan. 2014 ‹http://lj.libraryjournal.com/2007/07/ljarchives/lj-series-redefining-ra-an-ra-big-think›. Zunshine, Lisa. Why We Read Fiction: Theory of Mind and the Novel. Columbus: Ohio State UP, 2006.

Introduction Many social media tools and services are free to use. This fact often leads users to the mistaken presumption that the associated data generated whilst utilising these tools and services is without value. Users often focus on the social and presumed ephemeral nature of communication – imagining something that happens but then has no further record or value, akin to a telephone call – while corporations behind these tools tend to focus on the media side, the lasting value of these traces which can be combined, mined and analysed for new insight and revenue generation. This paper seeks to explore this social media contradiction in two ways. Firstly, a cursory examination of Google and Facebook will demonstrate how data mining and analysis are core practices for these corporate giants, central to their functioning, development and expansion. Yet the public rhetoric of these companies is not about the exchange of personal information for services, but rather the more utopian notions of organising the world’s information, or bringing everyone together through sharing. The second section of this paper examines some of the core ramifications of death in terms of social media, asking what happens when a user suddenly exists only as recorded media fragments, at least in digital terms. Death, at first glance, renders users (or post-users) without agency or, implicitly, value to companies which data-mine ongoing social practices. Yet the emergence of digital legacy management highlights the value of the data generated using social media, a value which persists even after death. The question of a digital estate thus illustrates the cumulative value of social media as media, even on an individual level. The ways Facebook and Google approach digital death are examined, demonstrating policies which enshrine the agency and rights of living users, but become far less coherent posthumously. Finally, along with digital legacy management, I will examine the potential for posthumous digital legacies which may, in some macabre ways, actually reanimate some aspects of a deceased user’s presence, such as the Lives On service which touts the slogan “when your heart stops beating, you'll keep tweeting”. Cumulatively, mapping digital legacy management by large online corporations, and the affordances of more focussed services dealing with digital death, illustrates the value of data generated by social media users, and the continued importance of the data even beyond the grave. Google While Google is universally synonymous with search, and is the world’s dominant search engine, it is less widely understood that one of the core elements keeping Google’s search results relevant is a complex operation mining user data. Different tools in Google’s array of services mine data in different ways (Zimmer, “Gaze”). Gmail, for example, uses algorithms to analyse an individual’s email in order to display the most relevant related advertising. This form of data mining is comparatively well known, with most Gmail users knowingly and willingly accepting more personalised advertising in order to use Google’s email service. However, the majority of people using Google’s search engine are unaware that search, too, is increasingly driven by the tracking, analysis and refining of results on the basis of user activity (Zimmer, “Externalities”). As Alexander Halavais (160–180) quite rightly argues, recent focus on the idea of social search – the deeper integration of social network information in gauging search results – is oxymoronic; all search, at least for Google, is driven by deep analysis of personal and aggregated social data. Indeed, the success of Google’s mining of user data has led to concerns that often invisible processes of customisation and personalisation will mean that the supposedly independent or objective algorithms producing Google’s search results will actually yield a different result for every person. As Siva Vaidhyanathan laments: “as users in a diverse array of countries train Google’s algorithms to respond to specialized queries with localised results, each place in the world will have a different list of what is important, true, or ‘relevant’ in response to any query” (138). Personalisation and customisation are not inherently problematic, and frequently do enhance the relevance of search results, but the main objection raised by critics is not Google’s data mining, but the lack of transparency in the way data are recorded, stored and utilised. Eli Pariser, for example, laments the development of a ubiquitous “filter bubble” wherein all search results are personalised and subjective but are hidden behind the rhetoric of computer-driven algorithmic objectivity (Pariser). While data mining informs and drives many of Google’s tools and services, the cumulative value of these captured fragments of information is best demonstrated by the new service Google Now. Google Now is a mobile app which delivers an ongoing stream of search results but without the need for user input. Google Now extrapolates the rhythms of a person’s life, their interests and their routines in order to algorithmically determine what information will be needed next, and automatically displays it on a user’s mobile device. Clearly Google Now is an extremely valuable and clever tool, and the more information a user shares, the better the ongoing customised results will be, demonstrating the direct exchange value of personal data: total personalisation requires total transparency. Each individual user will need to judge whether they wish to share with Google the considerable amount of personal information needed to make Google Now work. The pressing ethical question that remains is whether Google will ensure that users are sufficiently aware of the amount of data and personal privacy they are exchanging in order to utilise such a service. Facebook Facebook began as a closed network, open only to students at American universities, but has transformed over time to a much wider and more open network, with over a billion registered users. Facebook has continually reinvented their interface, protocols and design, often altering both privacy policies and users’ experience of privacy, and often meeting significant and vocal resistance in the process (boyd). The data mining performed by social networking service Facebook is also extensive, although primarily aimed at refining the way that targeted advertising appears on the platform. In 2007 Facebook partnered with various retail loyalty services and combined these records with Facebook’s user data. This information was used to power Facebook’s Beacon service, which added details of users’ retail history to their Facebook news feed (for example, “Tama just purchased a HTC One”). The impact of all of these seemingly unrelated purchases turning up in many people’s feeds suddenly revealed the complex surveillance, data mining and sharing of these data that was taking place (Doyle and Fraser). However, as Beacon was turned on, without consultation, for all Facebook users, there was a sizable backlash that meant that Facebook had to initially switch the service to opt-in, and then discontinue it altogether. While Beacon has been long since erased, it is notable that in early 2013 Facebook announced that they have strengthened partnerships with data mining and profiling companies, including Datalogix, Epsilon, Acxiom, and BlueKai, which harness customer information from a range of loyalty cards, to further refine the targeting ability offered to advertisers using Facebook (Hof). Facebook’s data mining, surveillance and integration across companies is thus still going on, but no longer directly visible to Facebook users, except in terms of the targeted advertisements which appear on the service. Facebook is also a platform, providing a scaffolding and gateway to many other tools and services. In order to use social games such as Zynga’s Farmville, Facebook users agree to allow Zynga to access their profile information, and use Facebook to authenticate their identity. Zynga has been unashamedly at the forefront of user analytics and data mining, attempting to algorithmically determine the best way to make virtual goods within their games attractive enough for users to pay for them with real money. Indeed, during a conference presentation, Zynga Vice President Ken Rudin stated outright that Zynga is “an analytics company masquerading as a games company” (Rudin). I would contend that this masquerade succeeds, as few Farmville players are likely to consider how their every choice and activity is being algorithmically scrutinised in order to determine what virtual goods they might actually buy. As an instance of what is widely being called ‘big data’, the data miing operations of Facebook, Zynga and similar services lead to a range of ethical questions (boyd and Crawford). While users may have ostensibly agreed to this data mining after clicking on Facebook’s Terms of Use agreement, the fact that almost no one reads these agreements when signing up for a service is the Internet’s worst kept secret. Similarly, the extension of these terms when Facebook operates as a platform for other applications is a far from transparent process. While examining the recording of user data leads to questions of privacy and surveillance, it is important to note that many users are often aware of the exchange to which they have agreed. Anders Albrechtslund deploys the term ‘social surveillance’ to usefully emphasise the knowing, playful and at times subversive approach some users take to the surveillance and data mining practices of online service providers. Similarly, E.J. Westlake notes that performances of self online are often not only knowing but deliberately false or misleading with the aim of exploiting the ways online activities are tracked. However, even users well aware of Facebook’s data mining on the site itself may be less informed about the social networking company’s mining of offsite activity. The introduction of ‘like’ buttons on many other Websites extends Facebook’s reach considerably. The various social plugins and ‘like’ buttons expand both active recording of user activity (where the like button is actually clicked) and passive data mining (since a cookie is installed or updated regardless of whether a button is actually pressed) (Gerlitz and Helmond). Indeed, because cookies – tiny packets of data exchanged and updated invisibly in browsers – assign each user a unique identifier, Facebook can either combine these data with an existing user’s profile or create profiles about non-users. If that person even joins Facebook, their account is connected with the existing, data-mined record of their Web activities (Roosendaal). As with Google, the significant issue here is not users knowingly sharing their data with Facebook, but the often complete lack of transparency in terms of the ways Facebook extracts and mines user data, both on Facebook itself and increasingly across applications using Facebook as a platform and across the Web through social plugins. Google after Death While data mining is clearly a core element in the operation of Facebook and Google, the ability to scrutinise the activities of users depends on those users being active; when someone dies, the question of the value and ownership of their digital assets becomes complicated, as does the way companies manage posthumous user information. For Google, the Gmail account of a deceased person becomes inactive; the stored email still takes up space on Google’s servers, but with no one using the account, no advertising is displayed and thus Google can earn no revenue from the account. However, the process of accessing the Gmail account of a deceased relative is an incredibly laborious one. In order to even begin the process, Google asks that someone physically mails a series of documents including a photocopy of a government-issued ID, the death certificate of the deceased person, evidence of an email the requester received from the deceased, along with other personal information. After Google have received and verified this information, they state that they might proceed to a second stage where further documents are required. Moreover, if at any stage Google decide that they cannot proceed in releasing a deceased relative’s Gmail account, they will not reveal their rationale. As their support documentation states: “because of our concerns for user privacy, if we determine that we cannot provide the Gmail content, we will not be able to share further details about the account or discuss our decision” (Google, “Accessing”). Thus, Google appears to enshrine the rights and privacy of individual users, even posthumously; the ownership or transfer of individual digital assets after death is neither a given, nor enshrined in Google’s policies. Yet, ironically, the economic value of that email to Google is likely zero, but the value of the email history of a loved one or business partner may be of substantial financial and emotional value, probably more so than when that person was alive. For those left behind, the value of email accounts as media, as a lasting record of social communication, is heightened. The question of how Google manages posthumous user data has been further complicated by the company’s March 2012 rationalisation of over seventy separate privacy policies for various tools and services they operate under the umbrella of a single privacy policy accessed using a single unified Google account. While this move was ostensibly to make privacy more understandable and transparent at Google, it had other impacts. For example, one of the side effects of a singular privacy policy and single Google identity is that deleting one of a recently deceased person’s services may inadvertently delete them all. Given that Google’s services include Gmail, YouTube and Picasa, this means that deleting an email account inadvertently erases all of the Google-hosted videos and photographs that individual posted during their lifetime. As Google warns, for example: “if you delete the Google Account to which your YouTube account is linked, you will delete both the Google Account AND your YouTube account, including all videos and account data” (Google, “What Happens”). A relative having gained access to a deceased person’s Gmail might sensibly delete the email account once the desired information is exported. However, it seems less likely that this executor would realise that in doing so all of the private and public videos that person had posted on YouTube would also permanently disappear. While material possessions can be carefully dispersed to specific individuals following the instructions in someone’s will, such affordances are not yet available for Google users. While it is entirely understandable that the ramification of policy changes are aimed at living users, as more and more online users pass away, the question of their digital assets becomes increasingly important. Google, for example, might allow a deceased person’s executor to elect which of their Google services should be kept online (perhaps their YouTube videos), which traces can be exported (perhaps their email), and which services can be deleted. At present, the lack of fine-grained controls over a user’s digital estate at Google makes this almost impossible. While it violates Google’s policies to transfer ownership of an account to another person, if someone does leave their passwords behind, this provides their loved ones with the best options in managing their digital legacy with Google. When someone dies and their online legacy is a collection of media fragments, the value of those media is far more apparent to the loved ones left behind rather than the companies housing those media. Facebook Memorialisation In response to users complaining that Facebook was suggesting they reconnect with deceased friends who had left Facebook profiles behind, in 2009 the company instituted an official policy of turning the Facebook profiles of departed users into memorial pages (Kelly). Technically, loved ones can choose between memorialisation and erasing an account altogether, but memorialisation is the default. This entails setting the account so that no one can log into it, and that no new friends (connections) can be made. Existing friends can access the page in line with the user’s final privacy settings, meaning that most friends will be able to post on the memorialised profile to remember that person in various ways (Facebook). Memorialised profiles (now Timelines, after Facebook’s redesign) thus become potential mourning spaces for existing connections. Since memorialised pages cannot make new connections, public memorial pages are increasingly popular on Facebook, frequently set up after a high-profile death, often involving young people, accidents or murder. Recent studies suggest that both of these Facebook spaces are allowing new online forms of mourning to emerge (Marwick and Ellison; Carroll and Landry; Kern, Forman, and Gil-Egui), although public pages have the downside of potentially inappropriate commentary and outright trolling (Phillips). Given Facebook has over a billion registered users, estimates already suggest that the platform houses 30 million profiles of deceased people, and this number will, of course, continue to grow (Kaleem). For Facebook, while posthumous users do not generate data themselves, the fact that they were part of a network means that their connections may interact with a memorialised account, or memorial page, and this activity, like all Facebook activities, allows the platform to display advertising and further track user interactions. However, at present Facebook’s options – to memorialise or delete accounts of deceased people – are fairly blunt. Once Facebook is aware that a user has died, no one is allowed to edit that person’s Facebook account or Timeline, so Facebook literally offers an all (memorialisation) or nothing (deletion) option. Given that Facebook is essentially a platform for performing identities, it seems a little short-sighted that executors cannot clean up or otherwise edit the final, lasting profile of a deceased Facebook user. As social networking services and social media become more ingrained in contemporary mourning practices, it may be that Facebook will allow more fine-grained control, positioning a digital executor also as a posthumous curator, making the final decision about what does and does not get kept in the memorialisation process. Since Facebook is continually mining user activity, the popularity of mourning as an activity on Facebook will likely mean that more attention is paid to the question of digital legacies. While the user themselves can no longer be social, the social practices of mourning, and the recording of a user as a media entity highlights the fact that social media can be about interactions which in significant ways include deceased users. Digital Legacy Services While the largest online corporations have fairly blunt tools for addressing digital death, there are a number of new tools and niche services emerging in this area which are attempting to offer nuanced control over digital legacies. Legacy Locker, for example, offers to store the passwords to all of a user’s online services and accounts, from Facebook to Paypal, and to store important documents and other digital material. Users designate beneficiaries who will receive this information after the account holder passes away, and this is confirmed by preselected “verifiers” who can attest to the account holder’s death. Death Switch similarly provides the ability to store and send information to users after the account holder dies, but tests whether someone is alive by sending verification emails; fail to respond to several prompts and Death Switch will determine a user has died, or is incapacitated, and executes the user’s final instructions. Perpetu goes a step further and offers the same tools as Legacy Locker but also automates existing options from social media services, allowing users to specify, for example, that their Facebook, Twitter or Gmail data should be downloaded and this archive should be sent to a designated recipient when the Perpetu user dies. These tools attempt to provide a more complex array of choices in terms of managing a user’s digital legacy, providing similar choices to those currently available when addressing material possessions in a formal will. At a broader level, the growing demand for these services attests to the ongoing value of online accounts and social media traces after a user’s death. Bequeathing passwords may not strictly follow the Terms of Use of the online services in question, but it is extremely hard to track or intervene when a user has the legitimate password, even if used by someone else. More to the point, this finely-grained legacy management allows far more flexibility in the utilisation and curation of digital assets posthumously. In the process of signing up for one of these services, or digital legacy management more broadly, the ongoing value and longevity of social media traces becomes more obvious to both the user planning their estate and those who ultimately have to manage it. The Social Media Afterlife The value of social media beyond the grave is also evident in the range of services which allow users to communicate in some fashion after they have passed away. Dead Social, for example, allows users to schedule posthumous social media activity, including the posting of tweets, sending of email, Facebook messages, or the release of online photos and videos. The service relies on a trusted executor confirming someone’s death, and after that releases these final messages effectively from beyond the grave. If I Die is a similar service, which also has an integrated Facebook application which ensures a user’s final message is directly displayed on their Timeline. In a bizarre promotional campaign around a service called If I Die First, the company is promising that the first user of the service to pass away will have their posthumous message delivered to a huge online audience, via popular blogs and mainstream press coverage. While this is not likely to appeal to everyone, the notion of a popular posthumous performance of self further complicates that question of what social media can mean after death. Illustrating the value of social media legacies in a quite different but equally powerful way, the Lives On service purports to algorithmically learn how a person uses Twitter while they are live, and then continue to tweet in their name after death. Internet critic Evgeny Morozov argues that Lives On is part of a Silicon Valley ideology of ‘solutionism’ which casts every facet of society as a problem in need of a digital solution (Morozov). In this instance, Lives On provides some semblance of a solution to the problem of death. While far from defeating death, the very fact that it might be possible to produce any meaningful approximation of a living person’s social media after they die is powerful testimony to the value of data mining and the importance of recognising that value. While Lives On is an experimental service in its infancy, it is worth wondering what sort of posthumous approximation might be built using the robust data profiles held by Facebook or Google. If Google Now can extrapolate what a user wants to see without any additional input, how hard would it be to retool this service to post what a user would have wanted after their death? Could there, in effect, be a Google After(life)? Conclusion Users of social media services have differing levels of awareness regarding the exchange they are agreeing to when signing up for services provided by Google or Facebook, and often value the social affordances without necessarily considering the ongoing media they are creating. Online corporations, by contrast, recognise and harness the informatic traces users generate through complex data mining and analysis. However, the death of a social media user provides a moment of rupture which highlights the significant value of the media traces a user leaves behind. More to the point, the value of these media becomes most evident to those left behind precisely because that individual can no longer be social. While beginning to address the issue of posthumous user data, Google and Facebook both have very blunt tools; Google might offer executors access while Facebook provides the option of locking a deceased user’s account as a memorial or removing it altogether. Neither of these responses do justice to the value that these media traces hold for the living, but emerging digital legacy management tools are increasingly providing a richer set of options for digital executors. While the differences between material and digital assets provoke an array of legal, spiritual and moral issues, digital traces nevertheless clearly hold significant and demonstrable value. For social media users, the death of someone they know is often the moment where the media side of social media – their lasting, infinitely replicable nature – becomes more important, more visible, and casts the value of the social media accounts of the living in a new light. For the larger online corporations and service providers, the inevitable increase in deceased users will likely provoke more fine-grained controls and responses to the question of digital legacies and posthumous profiles. It is likely, too, that the increase in online social practices of mourning will open new spaces and arenas for those same corporate giants to analyse and data-mine. References Albrechtslund, Anders. “Online Social Networking as Participatory Surveillance.” First Monday 13.3 (2008). 21 Apr. 2013 ‹http://firstmonday.org/article/view/2142/1949›. boyd, danah. “Facebook’s Privacy Trainwreck: Exposure, Invasion, and Social Convergence.” Convergence 14.1 (2008): 13–20. ———, and Kate Crawford. “Critical Questions for Big Data.” Information, Communication & Society 15.5 (2012): 662–679. Carroll, Brian, and Katie Landry. “Logging On and Letting Out: Using Online Social Networks to Grieve and to Mourn.” Bulletin of Science, Technology & Society 30.5 (2010): 341–349. Doyle, Warwick, and Matthew Fraser. “Facebook, Surveillance and Power.” Facebook and Philosophy: What’s on Your Mind? Ed. D.E. Wittkower. Chicago, IL: Open Court, 2010. 215–230. 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Zimmer, Michael. “The Externalities of Search 2.0: The Emerging Privacy Threats When the Drive for the Perfect Search Engine Meets Web 2.0.” First Monday 13.3 (2008). 21 Apr. 2013 ‹http://firstmonday.org/ojs/index.php/fm/article/view/2136/1944›. ———. “The Gaze of the Perfect Search Engine: Google as an Infrastructure of Dataveillance.” Web Search. Eds. Amanda Spink & Michael Zimmer. Berlin: Springer, 2008. 77–99.

The variable tries to capture the degree of realism of the fictional entertainment format. It was used in a systematization of TV series and movies that aimed to structure the field with regard to politics in fictional entertainment (Eilders & Nitsch, 2014, 2015; Nitsch & Eilders, 2014). Field of application/theoretical foundation The perceived degree of realism is usually considered in effect studies (as a moderating variable). However, it can also be applied to the fictional content and helps differentiating the innumerable fictional productions. It might be assumed that fictional entertainment formats with many references to social reality elicit other effects than TV series and movies that do not include aspects that are familiar to the audience from real-life. References/combination with other methods of data collection --- Example study Eilders & Nitsch (2015) Information on Eilders & Nitsch, 2015 Authors: Christiane Eilders & Cordula Nitsch Research interest: depiction of politics (centrality of politics, topics, actors, political actions) in political dramas of two different countries (US and Germany) Object of analysis: 114 movies and 98 TV-series Timeframe of analysis: 1990-2013 Information about variable Variable name/definition: degree of realism Degree of realism is indicated through four variables: 1) realism in terms of events, 2) in terms of characters, 3) in terms of time, and 4) in terms of places. Every indicator was coded on a scale ranging from 0 (no realism at all) to 3 (high degree of realism). Realism in terms of events regards the degree to which the plot refers to real-life events (e.g., historical references, bank holidays). Realism of characters captures whether real actors or institutions are addressed in the plot. It was coded whether real characters played no role (0), a marginal role (1), a minor role (2), or a major role (3) in the TV series or movie. Realism in terms of time measures the time between the year of production and the year in which the fictional plot takes place. 0 was coded for plots located in periods deviating by more than 50 years from the production year, plots located in periods not overtly deviating from the production year were coded 3. Realism of places captures whether places are clearly identifiable. The highest score refers to plots that take place at particular locations on Earth, plots that take place in completely fictitious locations (such as Middle Earth in The Lord of the Rings) received the lowest score. Level of analysis: Film- bzw. Serienebene [level of movies/series] Scale level: Nominal Reliability: .87 (realism in terms of time: 1.0, realism in terms of places: 0.9, realism in terms of events: 0.86 and realism in terms of characters: 0.71) V 1 Degree of Realism V1.3 Realitätsnähe der Zeit (RZ) (Bezugspunkt: Plot) [Realism in terms of time (RT) [Reference point: plot]] Unter RZ wird codiert, wie weit das Produktionsjahr des Films/der Serie von der Zeit abweicht, die im Film/der Serie dargestellt wird. Es wird angenommen, dass Filme/Serien, die in der Vergangenheit oder Zukunft spielen, eine geringere Realitätsnähe haben. Filme/Serien, die in anderen Welten mit eigenen Zeitlinien spielen, sind ebenfalls nicht realitätsnah. Bei Filmen/Serien, die über längere Zeiträume hinweg spielen, wird das Jahr, in dem der größte Teil der Handlung spielt, herangezogen. Sollte dies nicht erkennbar sein, ist das früheste Jahr, das vorkommt, das Referenzjahr. [For RT it is coded how far the production year of the movie/series deviates from the time the movie/series is set in. It is assumed that movies/series which are set in the past or future are less close to (the viewers’) reality. Movies/series that play in other worlds with their own timelines are also considered to have a low degree of realism. For movies/series that cover longer periods of time, the year in which most of the plot takes place is used. Should this not be recognizable, the earliest year the plot is set in, is used as the reference year.] 0 = Keine Realitätsnähe Der Film/Serie spielt entweder in einem Jahr, das mehr als 50 Jahre (plus/minus) vom Produktionsjahr des Films/Serie abweicht oder in einer Welt mit anderer Zeitrechnung. Beispiel: „Braveheart“ als Film, der im Mittelalter spielt und somit mehr als 50 Jahre vom Produktionsjahr 1995 abweicht. 1 = Geringe Realitätsnähe Der Film/Serie spielt in einem Jahr, das zwischen 50 und 11 Jahren (plus/minus) vom Produktionsjahr des Films/Serie abweicht. Beispiel: „Das Leben der Anderen“ als Film, der 1984 spielt und somit 22 Jahre vom Produktionsjahr 2006 abweicht. 2 = Mittlere Realitätsnähe Der Film/Serie spielt in einem Jahr, das vom Produktionsjahr maximal 10 Jahre (plus/minus) abweicht. Beispiel: „Hotel Ruanda“ als Film, der 2004 gedreht wurde und im Jahr 1994 spielt. 3 = Hohe Realitätsnähe Der Film/Serie spielt in einem Jahr, das vom Produktionsjahr durch keine sichtbare Verweise auf eine andere Zeit abweicht. Beispiel: „Keinohrhasen“ als Film, in dem es keine erkennbare Abweichung von Produktionsjahr und der dargestellten Zeit gibt. References Eilders, C., & Nitsch, C. (2014). Politikvermittlung zwischen „Traumschiff“ und „The West Wing“: Ein Vorschlag zur Systematisierung von Fernsehserien [Political depictions between „Traumschiff“ and „The West Wing“: A proposal for a systematization of TV series]. In M. Dohle & G. Vowe (Hrsg.), Politische Unterhaltung – Unterhaltende Politik. Forschung zu Medieninhalten, Medienrezeption und Medienwirkungen (S. 138–162). Köln: Herbert von Halem. Eilders, C., & Nitsch, C. (2015). Politics in Fictional Entertainment: An Empirical Classification of Movies and TV Series. International Journal of Communication, 9, 1563–1587. Nitsch, C. & Eilders, C. (2014). Die Repräsentation von Politik in fiktionaler Unterhaltung. Instrument, Anwendung und Befunde zur Systematisierung von Filmen und Fernsehserien [The representation of politics in fictional entertainment. Instrument, application and results for a systematization of films and TV series]. Studies in Communication | Media, 3(1), S. 120–143.

Special Care Notice This article contains images of deceased people that might cause sadness or distress to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers. Introduction Like many cities, Perth was founded on wetlands that have been integral to its history and culture (Seddon 226–32). However, in order to promote a settlement agenda, early mapmakers sought to erase the city’s wetlands from cartographic depictions (Giblett, Cities). Since the colonial era, inner-Perth’s swamps and lakes have been drained, filled, significantly reduced in size, or otherwise reclaimed for urban expansion (Bekle). Not only have the swamps and lakes physically disappeared, the memories of their presence and influence on the city’s development over time are also largely forgotten. What was the site of Perth, specifically its wetlands, like before British settlement? In 2014, an interdisciplinary team at Edith Cowan University developed a digital visualisation process to re-imagine Perth prior to colonisation. This was based on early maps of the Swan River Colony and a range of archival information. The images depicted the city’s topography, hydrology, and vegetation and became the centerpiece of a physical exhibition entitled Re-imagining Perth’s Lost Wetlands and a virtual exhibition hosted by the Western Australian Museum. Alongside historic maps, paintings, photographs, and writings, the visual reconstruction of Perth aimed to foster appreciation of the pre-settlement environment—the homeland of the Whadjuck Nyoongar, or Bibbulmun, people (Carter and Nutter). The exhibition included the narrative of Fanny Balbuk, a Nyoongar woman who voiced her indignation over the “usurping of her beloved home ground” (Bates, The Passing 69) by flouting property lines and walking through private residences to reach places of cultural significance. Beginning with Balbuk’s story and the digital tracing of her walking route through colonial Perth, this article discusses the project in the context of contemporary pressures on the city’s extant wetlands. The re-imagining of Perth through historically, culturally, and geographically-grounded digital visualisation approaches can inspire the conservation of its wetlands heritage. Balbuk’s Walk through the City For many who grew up in Perth, Fanny Balbuk’s perambulations have achieved legendary status in the collective cultural imagination. In his memoir, David Whish-Wilson mentions Balbuk’s defiant walks and the lighting up of the city for astronaut John Glenn in 1962 as the two stories that had the most impact on his Perth childhood. From Gordon Stephenson House, Whish-Wilson visualises her journey in his mind’s eye, past Government House on St Georges Terrace (the main thoroughfare through the city centre), then north on Barrack Street towards the railway station, the site of Lake Kingsford where Balbuk once gathered bush tucker (4). He considers the footpaths “beneath the geometric frame of the modern city […] worn smooth over millennia that snake up through the sheoak and marri woodland and into the city’s heart” (Whish-Wilson 4). Balbuk’s story embodies the intertwined culture and nature of Perth—a city of wetlands. Born in 1840 on Heirisson Island, Balbuk (also known as Yooreel) (Figure 1) had ancestral bonds to the urban landscape. According to Daisy Bates, writing in the early 1900s, the Nyoongar term Matagarup, or “leg deep,” denotes the passage of shallow water near Heirisson Island where Balbuk would have forded the Swan River (“Oldest” 16). Yoonderup was recorded as the Nyoongar name for Heirisson Island (Bates, “Oldest” 16) and the birthplace of Balbuk’s mother (Bates, “Aboriginal”). In the suburb of Shenton Park near present-day Lake Jualbup, her father bequeathed to her a red ochre (or wilgi) pit that she guarded fervently throughout her life (Bates, “Aboriginal”).Figure 1. Group of Aboriginal Women at Perth, including Fanny Balbuk (far right) (c. 1900). Image Credit: State Library of Western Australia (Image Number: 44c). Balbuk’s grandparents were culturally linked to the site. At his favourite camp beside the freshwater spring near Kings Park on Mounts Bay Road, her grandfather witnessed the arrival of Lieutenant-Colonel Frederick Irwin, cousin of James Stirling (Bates, “Fanny”). In 1879, colonial entrepreneurs established the Swan Brewery at this significant locale (Welborn). Her grandmother’s gravesite later became Government House (Bates, “Fanny”) and she protested vociferously outside “the stone gates guarded by a sentry [that] enclosed her grandmother’s burial ground” (Bates, The Passing 70). Balbuk’s other grandmother was buried beneath Bishop’s Grove, the residence of the city’s first archibishop, now Terrace Hotel (Bates, “Aboriginal”). Historian Bob Reece observes that Balbuk was “the last full-descent woman of Kar’gatta (Karrakatta), the Bibbulmun name for the Mount Eliza [Kings Park] area of Perth” (134). According to accounts drawn from Bates, her home ground traversed the area between Heirisson Island and Perth’s north-western limits. In Kings Park, one of her relatives was buried near a large, hollow tree used by Nyoongar people like a cistern to capture water and which later became the site of the Queen Victoria Statue (Bates, “Aboriginal”). On the slopes of Mount Eliza, the highest point of Kings Park, at the western end of St Georges Terrace, she harvested plant foods, including zamia fruits (Macrozamia riedlei) (Bates, “Fanny”). Fanny Balbuk’s knowledge contributed to the native title claim lodged by Nyoongar people in 2006 as Bennell v. State of Western Australia—the first of its kind to acknowledge Aboriginal land rights in a capital city and part of the larger Single Nyoongar Claim (South West Aboriginal Land and Sea Council et al.). Perth’s colonial administration perceived the city’s wetlands as impediments to progress and as insalubrious environments to be eradicated through reclamation practices. For Balbuk and other Nyoongar people, however, wetlands were “nourishing terrains” (Rose) that afforded sustenance seasonally and meaning perpetually (O’Connor, Quartermaine, and Bodney). Mary Graham, a Kombu-merri elder from Queensland, articulates the connection between land and culture, “because land is sacred and must be looked after, the relation between people and land becomes the template for society and social relations. Therefore all meaning comes from land.” Traditional, embodied reliance on Perth’s wetlands is evident in Bates’ documentation. For instance, Boojoormeup was a “big swamp full of all kinds of food, now turned into Palmerston and Lake streets” (Bates, “Aboriginal”). Considering her cultural values, Balbuk’s determination to maintain pathways through the increasingly colonial Perth environment is unsurprising (Figure 2). From Heirisson Island: a straight track had led to the place where once she had gathered jilgies [crayfish] and vegetable food with the women, in the swamp where Perth railway station now stands. Through fences and over them, Balbuk took the straight track to the end. When a house was built in the way, she broke its fence-palings with her digging stick and charged up the steps and through the rooms. (Bates, The Passing 70) One obstacle was Hooper’s Fence, which Balbuk broke repeatedly on her trips to areas between Kings Park and the railway station (Bates, “Hooper’s”). Her tenacious commitment to walking ancestral routes signifies the friction between settlement infrastructure and traditional Nyoongar livelihood during an era of rapid change. Figure 2. Determination of Fanny Balbuk’s Journey between Yoonderup (Heirisson Island) and Lake Kingsford, traversing what is now the central business district of Perth on the Swan River (2014). Image background prepared by Dimitri Fotev. Track interpolation by Jeff Murray. Project Background and Approach Inspired by Fanny Balbuk’s story, Re-imagining Perth’s Lost Wetlands began as an Australian response to the Mannahatta Project. Founded in 1999, that project used spatial analysis techniques and mapping software to visualise New York’s urbanised Manhattan Island—or Mannahatta as it was called by indigenous people—in the early 1600s (Sanderson). Based on research into the island’s original biogeography and the ecological practices of Native Americans, Mannahatta enabled the public to “peel back” the city’s strata, revealing the original composition of the New York site. The layers of visuals included rich details about the island’s landforms, water systems, and vegetation. Mannahatta compelled Rod Giblett, a cultural researcher at Edith Cowan University, to develop an analogous model for visualising Perth circa 1829. The idea attracted support from the City of Perth, Landgate, and the University. Using stories, artefacts, and maps, the team—comprising a cartographer, designer, three-dimensional modelling expert, and historical researchers—set out to generate visualisations of the landscape at the time of British colonisation. Nyoongar elder Noel Nannup approved culturally sensitive material and contributed his perspective on Aboriginal content to include in the exhibition. The initiative’s context remains pressing. In many ways, Perth has become a template for development in the metropolitan area (Weller). While not unusual for a capital, the rate of transformation is perhaps unexpected in a city less than 200 years old (Forster). There also remains a persistent view of existing wetlands as obstructions to progress that, once removed, are soon forgotten (Urban Bushland Council). Digital visualisation can contribute to appreciating environments prior to colonisation but also to re-imagining possibilities for future human interactions with land, water, and space. Despite the rapid pace of change, many Perth area residents have memories of wetlands lost during their lifetimes (for example, Giblett, Forrestdale). However, as the clearing and drainage of the inner city occurred early in settlement, recollections of urban wetlands exist exclusively in historical records. In 1935, a local correspondent using the name “Sandgroper” reminisced about swamps, connecting them to Perth’s colonial heritage: But the Swamps were very real in fact, and in name in the [eighteen-] Nineties, and the Perth of my youth cannot be visualised without them. They were, of course, drying up apace, but they were swamps for all that, and they linked us directly with the earliest days of the Colony when our great-grandparents had founded this City of Perth on a sort of hog's-back, of which Hay-street was the ridge, and from which a succession of streamlets ran down its southern slope to the river, while land locked to the north of it lay a series of lakes which have long since been filled to and built over so that the only evidence that they have ever existed lies in the original street plans of Perth prepared by Roe and Hillman in the early eighteen-thirties. A salient consequence of the loss of ecological memory is the tendency to repeat the miscues of the past, especially the blatant disregard for natural and cultural heritage, as suburbanisation engulfs the area. While the swamps of inner Perth remain only in the names of streets, existing wetlands in the metropolitan area are still being threatened, as the Roe Highway (Roe 8) Campaign demonstrates. To re-imagine Perth’s lost landscape, we used several colonial survey maps to plot the location of the original lakes and swamps. At this time, a series of interconnecting waterbodies, known as the Perth Great Lakes, spread across the north of the city (Bekle and Gentilli). This phase required the earliest cartographic sources (Figure 3) because, by 1855, city maps no longer depicted wetlands. We synthesised contextual information, such as well depths, geological and botanical maps, settlers’ accounts, Nyoongar oral histories, and colonial-era artists’ impressions, to produce renderings of Perth. This diverse collection of primary and secondary materials served as the basis for creating new images of the city. Team member Jeff Murray interpolated Balbuk’s route using historical mappings and accounts, topographical data, court records, and cartographic common sense. He determined that Balbuk would have camped on the high ground of the southern part of Lake Kingsford rather than the more inundated northern part (Figure 2). Furthermore, she would have followed a reasonably direct course north of St Georges Terrace (contrary to David Whish-Wilson’s imaginings) because she was barred from Government House for protesting. This easier route would have also avoided the springs and gullies that appear on early maps of Perth. Figure 3. Townsite of Perth in Western Australia by Colonial Draftsman A. Hillman and John Septimus Roe (1838). This map of Perth depicts the wetlands that existed overlaid by the geomentric grid of the new city. Image Credit: State Library of Western Australia (Image Number: BA1961/14). Additionally, we produced an animated display based on aerial photographs to show the historical extent of change. Prompted by the build up to World War II, the earliest aerial photography of Perth dates from the late 1930s (Dixon 148–54). As “Sandgroper” noted, by this time, most of the urban wetlands had been drained or substantially modified. The animation revealed considerable alterations to the formerly swampy Swan River shoreline. Most prominent was the transformation of the Matagarup shallows across the Swan River, originally consisting of small islands. Now traversed by a causeway, this area was transformed into a single island, Heirisson—the general site of Balbuk’s birth. The animation and accompanying materials (maps, images, and writings) enabled viewers to apprehend the changes in real time and to imagine what the city was once like. Re-imagining Perth’s Urban Heart The physical environment of inner Perth includes virtually no trace of its wetland origins. Consequently, we considered whether a representation of Perth, as it existed previously, could enhance public understanding of natural heritage and thereby increase its value. For this reason, interpretive materials were exhibited centrally at Perth Town Hall. Built partly by convicts between 1867 and 1870, the venue is close to the site of the 1829 Foundation of Perth, depicted in George Pitt Morrison’s painting. Balbuk’s grandfather “camped somewhere in the city of Perth, not far from the Town Hall” (Bates, “Fanny”). The building lies one block from the site of the railway station on the site of Lake Kingsford, the subsistence grounds of Balbuk and her forebears: The old swamp which is now the Perth railway yards had been a favourite jilgi ground; a spring near the Town Hall had been a camping place of Maiago […] and others of her fathers' folk; and all around and about city and suburbs she had gathered roots and fished for crayfish in the days gone by. (Bates, “Derelicts” 55) Beginning in 1848, the draining of Lake Kingsford reached completion during the construction of the Town Hall. While the swamps of the city were not appreciated by many residents, some organisations, such as the Perth Town Trust, vigorously opposed the reclamation of the lake, alluding to its hydrological role: That, the soil being sand, it is not to be supposed that Lake Kingsford has in itself any material effect on the wells of Perth; but that, from this same reason of the sandy soil, it would be impossible to keep the lake dry without, by so doing, withdrawing the water from at least the adjacent parts of the townsite to the same depth. (Independent Journal of Politics and News 3) At the time of our exhibition, the Lake Kingsford site was again being reworked to sink the railway line and build Yagan Square, a public space named after a colonial-era Nyoongar leader. The project required specialised construction techniques due to the high water table—the remnants of the lake. People travelling to the exhibition by train in October 2014 could have seen the lake reasserting itself in partly-filled depressions, flush with winter rain (Figure 4).Figure 4. Rise of the Repressed (2014). Water Rising in the former site of Lake Kingsford/Irwin during construction, corner of Roe and Fitzgerald Streets, Northbridge, WA. Image Credit: Nandi Chinna (2014). The exhibition was situated in the Town Hall’s enclosed undercroft designed for markets and more recently for shops. While some visited after peering curiously through the glass walls of the undercroft, others hailed from local and state government organisations. Guest comments applauded the alternative view of Perth we presented. The content invited the public to re-imagine Perth as a city of wetlands that were both environmentally and culturally important. A display panel described how the city’s infrastructure presented a hindrance for Balbuk as she attempted to negotiate the once-familiar route between Yoonderup and Lake Kingsford (Figure 2). Perth’s growth “restricted Balbuk’s wanderings; towns, trains, and farms came through her ‘line of march’; old landmarks were thus swept away, and year after year saw her less confident of the locality of one-time familiar spots” (Bates, “Fanny”). Conserving Wetlands: From Re-Claiming to Re-Valuing? Imagination, for philosopher Roger Scruton, involves “thinking of, and attending to, a present object (by thinking of it, or perceiving it, in terms of something absent)” (155). According to Scruton, the feelings aroused through imagination can prompt creative, transformative experiences. While environmental conservation tends to rely on data-driven empirical approaches, it appeals to imagination less commonly. We have found, however, that attending to the present object (the city) in terms of something absent (its wetlands) through evocative visual material can complement traditional conservation agendas focused on habitats and species. The actual extent of wetlands loss in the Swan Coastal Plain—the flat and sandy region extending from Jurien Bay south to Cape Naturaliste, including Perth—is contested. However, estimates suggest that 80 per cent of wetlands have been lost, with remaining habitats threatened by climate change, suburban development, agriculture, and industry (Department of Environment and Conservation). As with the swamps and lakes of the inner city, many regional wetlands were cleared, drained, or filled before they could be properly documented. Additionally, the seasonal fluctuations of swampy places have never been easily translatable to two-dimensional records. As Giblett notes, the creation of cartographic representations and the assignment of English names were attempts to fix the dynamic boundaries of wetlands, at least in the minds of settlers and administrators (Postmodern 72–73). Moreover, European colonists found the Western Australian landscape, including its wetlands, generally discomfiting. In a letter from 1833, metaphors failed George Fletcher Moore, the effusive colonial commentator, “I cannot compare these swamps to any marshes with which you are familiar” (220). The intermediate nature of wetlands—as neither land nor lake—is perhaps one reason for their cultural marginalisation (Giblett, Postmodern 39). The conviction that unsanitary, miasmic wetlands should be converted to more useful purposes largely prevailed (Giblett, Black 105–22). Felicity Morel-EdnieBrown’s research into land ownership records in colonial Perth demonstrated that town lots on swampland were often preferred. By layering records using geographic information systems (GIS), she revealed modifications to town plans to accommodate swampland frontages. The decline of wetlands in the region appears to have been driven initially by their exploitation for water and later for fertile soil. Northern market gardens supplied the needs of the early city. It is likely that the depletion of Nyoongar bush foods predated the flourishing of these gardens (Carter and Nutter). Engaging with the history of Perth’s swamps raises questions about the appreciation of wetlands today. In an era where numerous conservation strategies and alternatives have been developed (for example, Bobbink et al. 93–220), the exploitation of wetlands in service to population growth persists. On Perth’s north side, wetlands have long been subdued by controlling their water levels and landscaping their boundaries, as the suburban examples of Lake Monger and Hyde Park (formerly Third Swamp Reserve) reveal. Largely unmodified wetlands, such as Forrestdale Lake, exist south of Perth, but they too are in danger (Giblett, Black Swan). The Beeliar Wetlands near the suburb of Bibra Lake comprise an interconnected series of lakes and swamps that are vulnerable to a highway extension project first proposed in the 1950s. Just as the Perth Town Trust debated Lake Kingsford’s draining, local councils and the public are fiercely contesting the construction of the Roe Highway, which will bisect Beeliar Wetlands, destroying Roe Swamp (Chinna). The conservation value of wetlands still struggles to compete with traffic planning underpinned by a modernist ideology that associates cars and freeways with progress (Gregory). Outside of archives, the debate about Lake Kingsford is almost entirely forgotten and its physical presence has been erased. Despite the magnitude of loss, re-imagining the city’s swamplands, in the way that we have, calls attention to past indiscretions while invigorating future possibilities. We hope that the re-imagining of Perth’s wetlands stimulates public respect for ancestral tracks and songlines like Balbuk’s. Despite the accretions of settler history and colonial discourse, songlines endure as a fundamental cultural heritage. Nyoongar elder Noel Nannup states, “as people, if we can get out there on our songlines, even though there may be farms or roads overlaying them, fences, whatever it is that might impede us from travelling directly upon them, if we can get close proximity, we can still keep our culture alive. That is why it is so important for us to have our songlines.” Just as Fanny Balbuk plied her songlines between Yoonderup and Lake Kingsford, the traditional custodians of Beeliar and other wetlands around Perth walk the landscape as an act of resistance and solidarity, keeping the stories of place alive. Acknowledgments The authors wish to acknowledge Rod Giblett (ECU), Nandi Chinna (ECU), Susanna Iuliano (ECU), Jeff Murray (Kareff Consulting), Dimitri Fotev (City of Perth), and Brendan McAtee (Landgate) for their contributions to this project. The authors also acknowledge the traditional custodians of the lands upon which this paper was researched and written. 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Melbourne: Bloomings Books, 2004.South West Aboriginal Land and Sea Council and John Host with Chris Owen. “It’s Still in My Heart, This is My Country:” The Single Noongar Claim History. Crawley: U of Western Australia P, 2009.Urban Bushland Council. “Bushland Issues.” 2015. 29 Sep. 2015 ‹http://www.bushlandperth.org.au/bushland-issues›.Welborn, Suzanne. Swan: The History of a Brewery. Crawley: U of Western Australia P, 1987.Weller, Richard. Boomtown 2050: Scenarios for a Rapidly Growing City. Crawley: U of Western Australia P, 2009. Whish-Wilson, David. Perth. Sydney: NewSouth Publishing, 2013.

Our thesis is that the city’s ambience is now an unstable dialectic in which we are watchers and watched, mirrored and refracted in a landscape of iPhone auteurs, eTags, CCTV and sousveillance. Embrace ambience! Invoking Benjamin’s spirit, this article does not seek to limit understanding through restriction to a particular theme or theoretical construct (Buck-Morss 253). Instead, it offers snapshots of interactions at the dawn of the postmodern city. That bricolage also engages how people appropriate, manipulate, disrupt and divert urban spaces and strategies of power in their everyday life. Ambient information can both liberate and disenfranchise the individual. This article asks whether our era’s dialectics result in a new personhood or merely restate the traditional spectacle of ‘bright lights, big city’. Does the virtualized city result in ambient anomie and satiation or in surprise, autonomy and serendipity? (Gumpert 36) Since the steam age, ambience has been characterised in terms of urban sound, particularly the alienation attributable to the individual’s experience as a passive receptor of a cacophony of sounds – now soft, now loud, random and recurrent–from the hubbub of crowds, the crash and grind of traffic, the noise of industrial processes and domestic activity, factory whistles, fire alarms, radio, television and gramophones (Merchant 111; Thompson 6). In the age of the internet, personal devices such as digital cameras and iPhones, and urban informatics such as CCTV networks and e-Tags, ambience is interactivity, monitoring and signalling across multiple media, rather than just sound. It is an interactivity in which watchers observe the watched observing them and the watched reshape the fabric of virtualized cities merely by traversing urban precincts (Hillier 295; De Certeau 163). It is also about pervasive although unevenly distributed monitoring of individuals, using sensors that are remote to the individual (for example cameras or tag-readers mounted above highways) or are borne by the individual (for example mobile phones or badges that systematically report the location to a parent, employer or sex offender register) (Holmes 176; Savitch 130). That monitoring reflects what Doel and Clark characterized as a pervasive sense of ambient fear in the postmodern city, albeit fear that like much contemporary anxiety is misplaced–you are more at risk from intimates than from strangers, from car accidents than terrorists or stalkers–and that is ahistorical (Doel 13; Scheingold 33). Finally, it is about cooption, with individuals signalling their identity through ambient advertising: wearing tshirts, sweatshirts, caps and other apparel that display iconic faces such as Obama and Monroe or that embody corporate imagery such as the Nike ‘Swoosh’, Coca-Cola ‘Ribbon’, Linux Penguin and Hello Kitty feline (Sayre 82; Maynard 97). In the postmodern global village much advertising is ambient, rather than merely delivered to a device or fixed on a billboard. Australian cities are now seas of information, phantasmagoric environments in which the ambient noise encountered by residents and visitors comprises corporate signage, intelligent traffic signs, displays at public transport nodes, shop-window video screens displaying us watching them, and a plethora of personal devices showing everything from the weather to snaps of people in the street or neighborhood satellite maps. They are environments through which people traverse both as persons and abstractions, virtual presences on volatile digital maps and in online social networks. Spectacle, Anomie or Personhood The spectacular city of modernity is a meme of communication, cultural and urban development theory. It is spectacular in the sense that of large, artificial, even sublime. It is also spectacular because it is built around the gaze, whether the vistas of Hausmann’s boulevards, the towers of Manhattan and Chicago, the shopfront ‘sea of light’ and advertising pillars noted by visitors to Weimar Berlin or the neon ‘neo-baroque’ of Las Vegas (Schivelbusch 114; Fritzsche 164; Ndalianis 535). In the year 2010 it aspires to 2020 vision, a panoptic and panspectric gaze on the part of governors and governed alike (Kullenberg 38). In contrast to the timelessness of Heidegger’s hut and the ‘fixity’ of rural backwaters, spectacular cities are volatile domains where all that is solid continues to melt into air with the aid of jackhammers and the latest ‘new media’ potentially result in a hypereality that make it difficult to determine what is real and what is not (Wark 22; Berman 19). The spectacular city embodies a dialectic. It is anomic because it induces an alienation in the spectator, a fatigue attributable to media satiation and to a sense of being a mere cog in a wheel, a disempowered and readily-replaceable entity that is denied personhood–recognition as an autonomous individual–through subjection to a Fordist and post-Fordist industrial discipline or the more insidious imprisonment of being ‘a housewife’, one ant in a very large ant hill (Dyer-Witheford 58). People, however, are not automatons: they experience media, modernity and urbanism in different ways. The same attributes that erode the selfhood of some people enhance the autonomy and personhood of others. The spectacular city, now a matrix of digits, information flows and opportunities, is a realm in which people can subvert expectations and find scope for self-fulfillment, whether by wearing a hoodie that defeats CCTV or by using digital technologies to find and associate with other members of stigmatized affinity groups. One person’s anomie is another’s opportunity. Ambience and Virtualisation Eighty years after Fritz Lang’s Metropolis forecast a cyber-sociality, digital technologies are resulting in a ‘virtualisation’ of social interactions and cities. In post-modern cityscapes, the space of flows comprises an increasing number of electronic exchanges through physically disjointed places (Castells 2002). Virtualisation involves supplementation or replacement of face-to-face contact with hypersocial communication via new media, including SMS, email, blogging and Facebook. In 2010 your friends (or your boss or a bully) may always be just a few keystrokes away, irrespective of whether it is raining outside, there is a public transport strike or the car is in for repairs (Hassan 69; Baron 215). Virtualisation also involves an abstraction of bodies and physical movements, with the information that represents individual identities or vehicles traversing the virtual spaces comprised of CCTV networks (where viewers never encounter the person or crowd face to face), rail ticketing systems and road management systems (x e-Tag passed by this tag reader, y camera logged a specific vehicle onto a database using automated number-plate recognition software) (Wood 93; Lyon 253). Surveillant Cities Pervasive anxiety is a permanent and recurrent feature of urban experience. Often navigated by an urgency to control perceived disorder, both physically and through cultivated dominant theory (early twentieth century gendered discourses to push women back into the private sphere; ethno-racial closure and control in the Black Metropolis of 1940s Chicago), history is punctuated by attempts to dissolve public debate and infringe minority freedoms (Wilson 1991). In the Post-modern city unprecedented technological capacity generates a totalizing media vector whose plausible by-product is the perception of an ambient menace (Wark 3). Concurrent faith in technology as a cost-effective mechanism for public management (policing, traffic, planning, revenue generation) has resulted in emergence of the surveillant city. It is both a social and architectural fabric whose infrastructure is dotted with sensors and whose people assume that they will be monitored by private/public sector entities and directed by interactive traffic management systems – from electronic speed signs and congestion indicators through to rail schedule displays –leveraging data collected through those sensors. The fabric embodies tensions between governance (at its crudest, enforcement of law by police and their surrogates in private security services) and the soft cage of digital governmentality, with people being disciplined through knowledge that they are being watched and that the observation may be shared with others in an official or non-official shaming (Parenti 51; Staples 41). Encounters with a railway station CCTV might thus result in exhibition of the individual in court or on broadcast television, whether in nightly news or in a ‘reality tv’ crime expose built around ‘most wanted’ footage (Jermyn 109). Misbehaviour by a partner might merely result in scrutiny of mobile phone bills or web browser histories (which illicit content has the partner consumed, which parts of cyberspace has been visited), followed by a visit to the family court. It might instead result in digital viligilantism, with private offences being named and shamed on electronic walls across the global village, such as Facebook. iPhone Auteurism Activists have responded to pervasive surveillance by turning the cameras on ‘the watchers’ in an exercise of ‘sousveillance’ (Bennett 13; Huey 158). That mirroring might involve the meticulous documentation, often using the same geospatial tools deployed by public/private security agents, of the location of closed circuit television cameras and other surveillance devices. One outcome is the production of maps identifying who is watching and where that watching is taking place. As a corollary, people with anxieties about being surveilled, with a taste for street theatre or a receptiveness to a new form of urban adventure have used those maps to traverse cities via routes along which they cannot be identified by cameras, tags and other tools of the panoptic sort, or to simply adopt masks at particular locations. In 2020 can anyone aspire to be a protagonist in V for Vendetta? (iSee) Mirroring might take more visceral forms, with protestors for example increasingly making a practice of capturing images of police and private security services dealing with marches, riots and pickets. The advent of 3G mobile phones with a still/video image capability and ongoing ‘dematerialisation’ of traditional video cameras (ie progressively cheaper, lighter, more robust, less visible) means that those engaged in political action can document interaction with authority. So can passers-by. That ambient imaging, turning the public gaze on power and thereby potentially redefining the ‘public’ (given that in Australia the community has been embodied by the state and discourse has been mediated by state-sanctioned media), poses challenges for media scholars and exponents of an invigorated civil society in which we are looking together – and looking at each other – rather than bowling alone. One challenge for consumers in construing ambient media is trust. Can we believe what we see, particularly when few audiences have forensic skills and intermediaries such as commercial broadcasters may privilege immediacy (the ‘breaking news’ snippet from participants) over context and verification. Social critics such as Baudelaire and Benjamin exalt the flaneur, the free spirit who gazed on the street, a street that was as much a spectacle as the theatre and as vibrant as the circus. In 2010 the same technologies that empower citizen journalism and foster a succession of velvet revolutions feed flaneurs whose streetwalking doesn’t extend beyond a keyboard and a modem. The US and UK have thus seen emergence of gawker services, with new media entrepreneurs attempting to build sustainable businesses by encouraging fans to report the location of celebrities (and ideally provide images of those encounters) for the delectation of people who are web surfing or receiving a tweet (Burns 24). In the age of ambient cameras, where the media are everywhere and nowhere (and micro-stock photoservices challenge agencies such as Magnum), everyone can join the paparazzi. Anyone can deploy that ambient surveillance to become a stalker. The enthusiasm with which fans publish sightings of celebrities will presumably facilitate attacks on bodies rather than images. Information may want to be free but so, inconveniently, do iconoclasts and practitioners of participatory panopticism (Dodge 431; Dennis 348). Rhetoric about ‘citizen journalism’ has been co-opted by ‘old media’, with national broadcasters and commercial enterprises soliciting still images and video from non-professionals, whether for free or on a commercial basis. It is a world where ‘journalists’ are everywhere and where responsibility resides uncertainly at the editorial desk, able to reject or accept offerings from people with cameras but without the industrial discipline formerly exercised through professional training and adherence to formal codes of practice. It is thus unsurprising that South Australia’s Government, echoed by some peers, has mooted anti-gawker legislation aimed at would-be auteurs who impede emergency services by stopping their cars to take photos of bushfires, road accidents or other disasters. The flipside of that iPhone auteurism is anxiety about the public gaze, expressed through moral panics regarding street photography and sexting. Apart from a handful of exceptions (notably photography in the Sydney Opera House precinct, in the immediate vicinity of defence facilities and in some national parks), Australian law does not prohibit ‘street photography’ which includes photographs or videos of streetscapes or public places. Despite periodic assertions that it is a criminal offence to take photographs of people–particularly minors–without permission from an official, parent/guardian or individual there is no general restriction on ambient photography in public spaces. Moral panics about photographs of children (or adults) on beaches or in the street reflect an ambient anxiety in which danger is associated with strangers and strangers are everywhere (Marr 7; Bauman 93). That conceptualisation is one that would delight people who are wholly innocent of Judith Butler or Andrea Dworkin, in which the gaze (ever pervasive, ever powerful) is tantamount to a violation. The reality is more prosaic: most child sex offences involve intimates, rather than the ‘monstrous other’ with the telephoto lens or collection of nastiness on his iPod (Cossins 435; Ingebretsen 190). Recognition of that reality is important in considering moves that would egregiously restrict legitimate photography in public spaces or happy snaps made by doting relatives. An ambient image–unposed, unpremeditated, uncoerced–of an intimate may empower both authors and subjects when little is solid and memory is fleeting. The same caution might usefully be applied in considering alarms about sexting, ie creation using mobile phones (and access by phone or computer monitor) of intimate images of teenagers by teenagers. Australian governments have moved to emulate their US peers, treating such photography as a criminal offence that can be conceptualized as child pornography and addressed through permanent inclusion in sex offender registers. Lifelong stigmatisation is inappropriate in dealing with naïve or brash 12 and 16 year olds who have been exchanging intimate images without an awareness of legal frameworks or an understanding of consequences (Shafron-Perez 432). Cameras may be everywhere among the e-generation but legal knowledge, like the future, is unevenly distributed. Digital Handcuffs Generations prior to 2008 lost themselves in the streets, gaining individuality or personhood by escaping the surveillance inherent in living at home, being observed by neighbours or simply surrounded by colleagues. Streets offered anonymity and autonomy (Simmel 1903), one reason why heterodox sexuality has traditionally been negotiated in parks and other beats and on kerbs where sex workers ply their trade (Dalton 375). Recent decades have seen a privatisation of those public spaces, with urban planning and digital technologies imposing a new governmentality on hitherto ambient ‘deviance’ and on voyeuristic-exhibitionist practice such as heterosexual ‘dogging’ (Bell 387). That governmentality has been enforced through mechanisms such as replacement of traditional public toilets with ‘pods’ that are conveniently maintained by global service providers such as Veolia (the unromantic but profitable rump of former media & sewers conglomerate Vivendi) and function as billboards for advertising groups such as JC Decaux. Faces encountered in the vicinity of the twenty-first century pissoir are thus likely to be those of supermodels selling yoghurt, low interest loans or sportsgear – the same faces sighted at other venues across the nation and across the globe. Visiting ‘the mens’ gives new meaning to the word ambience when you are more likely to encounter Louis Vuitton and a CCTV camera than George Michael. George’s face, or that of Madonna, Barack Obama, Kevin 07 or Homer Simpson, might instead be sighted on the tshirts or hoodies mentioned above. George’s music might also be borne on the bodies of people you see in the park, on the street, or in the bus. This is the age of ambient performance, taken out of concert halls and virtualised on iPods, Walkmen and other personal devices, music at the demand of the consumer rather than as rationed by concert managers (Bull 85). The cost of that ambience, liberation of performance from time and space constraints, may be a Weberian disenchantment (Steiner 434). Technology has also removed anonymity by offering digital handcuffs to employees, partners, friends and children. The same mobile phones used in the past to offer excuses or otherwise disguise the bearer’s movement may now be tied to an observer through location services that plot the person’s movement across Google Maps or the geospatial information of similar services. That tracking is an extension into the private realm of the identification we now take for granted when using taxis or logistics services, with corporate Australia for example investing in systems that allow accurate determination of where a shipment is located (on Sydney Harbour Bridge? the loading dock? accompanying the truck driver on unauthorized visits to the pub?) and a forecast of when it will arrive (Monmonier 76). Such technologies are being used on a smaller scale to enforce digital Fordism among the binary proletariat in corporate buildings and campuses, with ‘smart badges’ and biometric gateways logging an individual’s movement across institutional terrain (so many minutes in the conference room, so many minutes in the bathroom or lingering among the faux rainforest near the Vice Chancellery) (Bolt). Bright Lights, Blog City It is a truth universally acknowledged, at least by right-thinking Foucauldians, that modernity is a matter of coercion and anomie as all that is solid melts into air. If we are living in an age of hypersocialisation and hypercapitalism – movies and friends on tap, along with the panoptic sorting by marketers and pervasive scrutiny by both the ‘information state’ and public audiences (the million people or one person reading your blog) that is an inevitable accompaniment of the digital cornucopia–we might ask whether everyone is or should be unhappy. This article began by highlighting traditional responses to the bright lights, brashness and excitement of the big city. One conclusion might be that in 2010 not much has changed. Some people experience ambient information as liberating; others as threatening, productive of physical danger or of a more insidious anomie in which personal identity is blurred by an ineluctable electro-smog. There is disagreement about the professionalism (for which read ethics and inhibitions) of ‘citizen media’ and about a culture in which, as in the 1920s, audiences believe that they ‘own the image’ embodying the celebrity or public malefactor. Digital technologies allow you to navigate through the urban maze and allow officials, marketers or the hostile to track you. Those same technologies allow you to subvert both the governmentality and governance. You are free: Be ambient! References Baron, Naomi. Always On: Language in an Online and Mobile World. New York: Oxford UP, 2008. Bauman, Zygmunt. 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The German anatomist and artist Gunther von Hagens’s exhibition Body Worlds has toured Europe, Asia and the US several times, provoking both interest and dismay, fascination and disgust. This “original exhibition of real human bodies” features whole cadavers as well as specific body parts and it is organized thematically around specific bodily functions such as the respiratory system, blood circulation, skeletal materials and brain and nervous system. In each segment of the exhibition these themes are illustrated using parts of the body, presented in glass cases that are associated with each function. Next to these cases are the full body cadavers—the so-called “plastinates”. The Body Worlds exhibition is all about perception-in-motion: it is about circumnavigating bodies, stopping in front of a plastinate and in-corporating it, leaning over an arm or reaching towards a face, pointing towards a discrete blood vessel, drawing an abstract line between two organs. Experiencing here is above all a matter of reaching-towards and incorporeally touching bodies (Manning, Politics of Touch). These bodies are dead, still, motionless, “frozen in time between death and decay” (von Hagens, Body Worlds). Dead and still eerily animate, just as the surface of a freeze-frame photograph would seem to capture spatially a movement in its unfolding becoming, plastinates do not simply appear as dead matter used to represent vitality, but rather [...] as persons who managed to survive together with their bodies. What “inner quality” makes them appear alive? In what way is someone present, when what is conserved is not opinions (in writing), actions (in stories) or voice (on tape) but the body? (Hirschauer 41—42) Through the corporeal transformation—the plastination process—that these bodies have gone through, and the designed space of the exhibition—a space that makes possible both innovative and restrictive movements—these seemingly dead bodies come alive. There is a movement within these bodies, a movement that resonates with-in the exhibition space and mobilises visitors.Two ways of thinking movement in relation to stillness come out of this. The first one is concerned with the ordering and designing of space by means of visual cues, things or texts. This relates to stillness and slowness as suggestive, imposed and enforced upon bodies so that the possibilities of movement are reduced due to the way an environment is designed. Think for example of the way that an escalator moulds movements and speeds, or how signs such as “No walking on the grass” suggest a given pattern of walking. The second one is concerned with how movement is linked up with and implies continuous change. If a body’s movement and exaltation is reduced or slowed down, does the body then become immobile and still? Take ice, water and steam: these states give expression to three different attributes or conditions of what is considered to be one and the same chemical body. But in the transformation from one to the other, there is also an incorporeal transformation related to the possibilities of movement and change—between motion and rest—of what a body can do (Deleuze, Spinoza).Slowing Down Ever since the first exhibition Body Worlds has been under attack from critics, ethicists, journalists and religious groups, who claim that the public exhibition of dead bodies should, for various reasons, be banned. In 2004, in response to such criticism, the Californian Science Centre commissioned an ethical review of the exhibition before taking the decision on whether and how to host Body Worlds. One of the more interesting points in this review was the proposition that “the exhibition is powerful, and guests need time to acclimate themselves” (6). As a consequence, it was suggested that the Science Center arrange an entrance that would “slow people down and foster a reverential and respectful mood” (5). The exhibition space was to be organized in such a way that skeletons, historical contexts and images would be placed in the beginning of the exhibition, the whole body plastinates should only be introduced later in the exhibition. Before my first visit to the exhibition, I wasn’t sure how I would react when confronted with these dead bodies. To be perfectly honest, the moments before entering, I panicked. Crossing the asphalt between the Manchester Museum of Science and the exhibition hall, I felt dizzy; heart pounding in my chest and a sensation of nausea spreading throughout my body. Ascending a staircase that would take me to the entrance, located on the third floor in the exhibition hall, I thought I had detected an odour—rotten flesh or foul meat mixed with chemicals. Upon entering I was greeted by a young man to whom I presented my ticket. Without knowing in advance that this first room had been structured in such a way as to “slow people down”, I immediately felt relieved as I realized that the previously detected smell must have been psychosomatic: the room was perfectly odourless and the atmosphere was calm and tempered. Dimmed lights and pointed spotlights filled the space with an inviting and warm ambience. Images and texts on death and anatomical art were spread over the walls and in the back corners of the room two skeletons had been placed. Two glass cases containing bones and tendons had been placed in the middle of the room and next to these a case with a whole body, positioned upright in ‘anatomically correct’ position with arms, hands and legs down. There was nothing gruesome or spectacular about this room; I had visited anatomical collections, such as that of the Hunterian Museum in London or Medical Museion in Copenhagen, which in comparison far surpassed the alleged gruesomeness and voyeurism. And so I realized that the room had effectively slowed me down as my initial state of exaltation had been altered and stalled by the relative familiarity of images, texts and bare bones, all presented in a tempered and respectful way.Visitors are slowed down, but they are not still. There is no degree zero of movement, only different relations of speeds and slowness. Here I think it is useful to think of movement and change as it is expressed in Henri Bergson’s writings on temporality. Bergson frequently argued that the problem of Western metaphysics had been to spatialise movement, as in the famous example with Zeno’s arrow that—given that we think of movement as spatial—never reaches the tree towards which it has been shot. Bergson however did not refute the importance and practical dimensions of thinking through immobility; rather, immobility is the “prerequisite for our action” (Creative Mind 120). The problem occurs when we think away movement on behalf of that which we think of as still or immobile.We need immobility, and the more we succeed in imagining movement as coinciding with the immobilities of the points of space through which it passes, the better we think we understand it. To tell the truth, there never is real immobility, if we understand by that an absence of movement. Movement is reality itself (Bergson, Creative Mind 119).This notion of movement as primary, and immobility as secondary, gives expression to the proposition that immobility, solids and stillness are not given but have to be achieved. This can be done in several ways: external forces that act upon a body and transform it, as when water crystallizes into ice; certain therapeutic practices—yoga or relaxation exercises—that focus and concentrate attention and perception; spatial and architectural designs such as museums, art galleries or churches that induce and invoke certain moods and slow people down. Obviously there are other kinds of situations when bodies become excited and start moving more rapidly. Such situations could be, to name a few, when water starts to boil; when people use drugs like nicotine or caffeine in order to heighten alertness; or when bodies occupy spaces where movement is amplified by means of increased sensual stimuli, for example in the extreme conditions that characterize a natural catastrophe or a war.Speeding Up After the Body Worlds visitor had been slowed down and acclimatised in and through the first room, the full body plastinates were introduced. These bodies laid bare muscles, tissues, nerves, brain, heart, kidneys, and lungs. Some of these were “exploded views” of the body—in these, the body and its parts have been separated and drawn out from the position that they occupy in the living body, in some cases resulting in two discrete plastinates—e.g. one skeleton and one muscle-plastinate—that come from the same anatomical body. Congruent with the renaissance anatomical art of Vesalius, all plastinates are positioned in lifelike poses (Benthien, Skin). Some are placed inside a protective glass case while others are either standing, lying on the ground or hanging from the ceiling.As the exhibition unfolds, the plastinates themselves wipe away the calmness and stillness intended with the spatial design. Whereas a skeleton seems mute and dumb these plastinates come alive as visitors circle and navigate between them. Most visitors would merely point and whisper, some would reach towards and lean over a plastinate. Others however noticed that jumping up and down created a resonating effect in the plastinates so that a plastinate’s hand, leg or arm moved. At times the rooms were literally filled with hordes of excited and energized school children. Then the exhibition space was overtaken with laughter, loud voices, running feet, comments about the gruesome von Hagens and repeated remarks on the plastinates’ genitalia. The former mood of respectfulness and reverence has been replaced by the fascinating and idiosyncratic presence of animated and still, plastinated bodies. Animated and still? So what is a plastinate?Movement and Form Through plastination, the body undergoes a radical and irreversible transformation which turns the organic body into an “inorganic organism”, a hybrid of plastic and flesh (Hirschauer 36). Before this happens however the living body has to face another phase of transition by which it turns into a dead cadaver. From the point of view of an individual body that lives, breathes and evolves, this transformation implies turning into a decomposing and rotting piece of flesh, tissue and bones. Any corpse will sooner or later turn into something else, ashes, dust or earth. This process can be slowed down using various techniques and chemicals such as mummification or formaldehyde, but this will merely slow down the process of decomposition, and not terminate it.The plastination technique is rather different in several respects. Firstly the specimen is soaked in acetone and the liquids in the corpse—water and fat—are displaced. This displacement prepares the specimen for the next step in the process which is the forced vacuum impregnation. Here the specimen is placed in a polymer mixture with silicone rubber or epoxy resin. This process is undertaken in vacuum which allows for the plastic to enter each and every cell of the specimen, thus replacing the acetone (von Hagens, Body Worlds). Later on, when this transformation has finished, the specimen is modelled according to a concept, a “gestalt plastinate”, such as “the runner”, “the badminton player” or “the skin man”. The concept expresses a dynamic and life-like pose—referred to as the gestalt—that exceeds the individual parts of which it is formed. This would suggest that form is in itself immobility and that perception is what is needed to make form mobile; as gestalt the plastinated body is spatially immobilised, yet it gives birth to a body that comes alive in perception-movement. Once again I think that Bergson could help us to think through this relation, a relation that is conceived here as a difference between form-as-stillness and formation-as-movement:Life is an evolution. We concentrate a period of this evolution in a stable view which we call a form, and, when the change has become considerable enough to overcome the fortunate inertia of our perception, we say that the body has changed its form. But in reality the body is changing form at every moment; or rather, there is no form, since form is immobile and the reality is movement. What is real is the continual change of form; form is only a snapshot view of a transition (Bergson, Creative Evolution 328, emphasis in original).In other words there is a form that is relative to human perception, but there is “underneath” this form nothing but a continuous formation or becoming as Bergson would have it. For our purposes the formation of the gestalt plastinate is an achievement that makes perceptible the possibility of divergent or co-existent durations; the plastinate belongs to a temporal rhythm that even though it coincides with ours is not identical to it.Movement and Trans-formation So what kind of a strange entity is it that emerges out of this transformation, through which organic materials are partly replaced with plastic? Compared with a living body or a mourned cadaver, it is first and foremost an entity that no longer is subject to the continuous evolution of time. In this sense the plastinate is similar to cryogenetical bodies (Doyle, Wetwares), or to Ötzi the ice man (Spindler, Man in the ice)—bodies that resist the temporal logic according to which things are in constant motion. The processes of composition and decomposition that every living organism undergoes at every instant have been radically interrupted.However, plastinates are not forever fixed, motionless and eternally enduring objects. As Walter points out, plastinated cadavers are expected to “remain stable” for approximately 4000 years (606). Thus, the plastinate has become solidified and stabilized according to a different pattern of duration than that of the decaying human body. There is a tension here between permanence and change, between bodies that endure and a body that decomposes. Maybe as when summer, which is full of life and energy, turns into winter, which is still and seemingly without life. It reminds us of Nietzsche's Zarathustra and the winter doctrine: When the water is spanned by planks, when bridges and railings leap over the river, verily those are believed who say, “everything is in flux. . .” But when the winter comes . . . , then verily, not only the blockheads say, “Does not everything stand still?” “At bottom everything stands still.”—that is truly a winter doctrine (Bennett and Connolly 150). So we encounter the paradox of how to accommodate motion within stillness and stillness within motion: if everything is in continuous movement, how can there be stillness and regularity (and vice versa)? An interesting example of such temporal interruption is described by Giorgio Agamben who invokes an example with a tick that was kept alive, in a state of hibernation, for 18 years without nourishment (47). During those years this tick had ceased to exist in time, it existed only in extended space. There are of course differences between the tick and von Hagens’s plastinates—one difference being that the plastinates are not only dead but also plastic and inorganic—but the analogy points us to the idea of producing the conditions of possibility for eternal, timeless (and, by implication, motionless) bodies. If movement and change are thought of as spatial, as in Zeno’s paradox, here they have become temporal: movement happens in and because of time and not in space. The technique of plastination and the plastinates themselves emerge as processes of a-temporalisation and re-spatialisation of the body. The body is displaced—pulled out of time and history—and becomes a Cartesian body located entirely in the coordinates of extended space. As Ian Hacking suggests, plastinates are “Cartesian, extended, occupying space. Plastinated organs and corpses are odourless: like the Cartesian body, they can be seen but not smelt” (15).Interestingly, Body Worlds purports to show the inner workings of the human body. However, what visitors experience is not the working but the being. They do not see what the body does, its activities over time; rather, they see what it is, in space. Conversely, von Hagens wishes to “make us aware of our physical nature, our nature within us” (Kuppers 127), but the nature that we become aware of is not the messy, smelly and fluid nature of bodily interiors. Rather we encounter the still nature of Zarathustra’s winter landscape, a landscape in which the passage of time has come to a halt. As Walter concludes “the Body Worlds experience is primarily visual, spatial, static and odourless” (619).Still in Constant MotionAnd yet...Body Worlds moves us. If not for the fact that these plastinates and their creator strike us as gruesome, horrific and controversial, then because these bodies that we encounter touch us and we them. The sensation of movement, in and through the exhibition, is about this tension between being struck, touched or moved by a body that is radically foreign and yet strangely familiar to us. The resonant and reverberating movement that connects us with it is expressed through that (in)ability to accommodate motion in stillness, and stillness in motion. For whereas the plastinates are immobilised in space, they move in time and in experience. As Nigel Thrift puts it The body is in constant motion. Even at rest, the body is never still. As bodies move they trace out a path from one location to another. These paths constantly intersect with those of others in a complex web of biographies. These others are not just human bodies but also all other objects that can be described as trajectories in time-space: animals, machines, trees, dwellings, and so on (Thrift 8).This understanding of the body as being in constant motion stretches beyond the idea of a body that literally moves in physical space; it stresses the processual intertwining of subjects and objects through space-times that are enduring and evolving. The paradoxical nature of the relation between bodies in motion and bodies at rest is obviously far from exhausted through the brief exemplification that I have tried to provide here. Therefore I must end here and let someone else, better suited for this task, explain what it is that I wish to have said. We are hardly conscious of anything metaphorical when we say of one picture or of a story that it is dead, and of another that it has life. To explain just what we mean when we say this, is not easy. Yet the consciousness that one thing is limp, that another one has the heavy inertness of inanimate things, while another seems to move from within arises spontaneously. There must be something in the object that instigates it (Dewey 182). References Agamben, Giorgio. The Open. Trans. Kevin Attell. Stanford: Stanford U P, 2004.Bennett, Jane, and William Connolly. “Contesting Nature/Culture.” Journal of Nietzsche Studies 24 (2002) 148-163.Benthien, Claudia. Skin: On the Cultural Border Between Self and the World. Trans. Thomas Dunlap. New York: Columbia U P, 2002. California Science Center. “Summary of Ethical Review.” 10 Jan. 2009.Bergson, Henri. The Creative Mind. Trans. Mabelle Andison. Mineola: Dover, 2007. –––. Creative Evolution. Trans. Arthur Mitchell. New York: Cosimo Classics, 2005Deleuze, Gilles. Spinoza: Practical Philosophy. Trans. Robert Hurley. San Francisco: City Lights, 1988.Dewey, John. Art as Experience. New York: Perigee, 2005.Doyle, Richard. Wetwares. Minnesota: Minnesota U P, 2003.Hacking, Ian. “The Cartesian Body.” Biosocieties 1 (2006) 13-15.Hirschauer, Stefan. “Animated Corpses: Communicating with Post Mortals in an Anatomical Exhibition.” Body & Society 12.4 (2006) 25-52.Kuppers, Petra. “Visions of Anatomy: Exhibitions and Dense Bodies.” differences 15.3 (2004) 123-156.Manning, Erin. Politics of Touch: Sense, Movement, Sovereignty. Minnesota: Minnesota UP, 2007. Spindler, Konrad. The Man in the Ice. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1994.Thrift, Nigel. Spatial Formations. London: Sage, 1996.Von Hagens, Gunther, and Angelina Whalley. Body Worlds: The Original Exhibition of Real Human Bodies. Heidelberg: Institute for Plastination, 2008.Walter, Tony. “Plastination for Display: A New Way to Dispose of the Dead.” Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 10.3 (2004) 603-627.

At last year’s Tour de France—the three-week cycling race—the winner of one stage was disqualified for allegedly obstructing a competitor. In newspapers and on social media, cycling fans immediately started a heated debate about the decision and about the actual course of events. They uploaded photographs and videos, which they had often edited and augmented with graphics to support their interpretation of the situation or to direct attention to some neglected detail (Simpson; "Tour de France").Due to their competitive character and their audience’s partisanship, modern media sports continuously create controversial moments like this, thereby providing ample opportunities for what Jason Mittell—with respect to complex narratives in recent TV drama—called “forensic fandom” ("Forensic;" Complex), in which audience members collectively investigate ambivalent or enigmatic elements of a media product, adding their own interpretations and explanations.Not unlike that of TV drama, sport’s forensic fandom is stimulated through complex forms of seriality—e.g. the successive stages of the Tour de France or the successive games of a tournament or a league, but also the repetition of the same league competition or tournament every (or, in the case of the Olympics, every four) year(s). To articulate their take on the disqualification of the Tour de France rider, fans refer to comparable past events, activate knowledge about rivalries between cyclists, or note character traits that they condensed from the alleged perpetrator’s prior appearances. Sport thus creates a continuously evolving and recursive storyworld that, like all popular seriality, proliferates across different media forms (texts, photos, films, etc.) and different media platforms (television, social media, etc.) (Kelleter).In the following I will use two examples (from 1908 and 1966) to analyse in greater detail why and how sport’s seriality and forensic attitude contribute to the highly dynamic “transmedia intertextuality” (Kinder 35) of media sport. Two arguments are of special importance to me: (1) While social media (as the introductory example has shown) add to forensic fandom’s proliferation, it was sport’s strongly serialized evaluation of performances that actually triggered the “spreadability” (Jenkins, Ford, and Green) of sport-related topics across different media, first doing so at the end of the 19th century. What is more, modern sport owes its very existence to the cross-media circulation of its events. (2) So far, transmedia has mainly been researched with respect to fictional content (Jenkins; Evans), yet existing research on documentary transmedia forms (Kerrigan and Velikovsky) and social media seriality (Page) has shown that the inclusion of non-fiction can broaden our knowledge of how storytelling sprawls across media and takes advantage of their specific affordances. This, I want to argue, ensures that sport is an insightful and important example for the understanding of transmedia world-building.The Origins of Sport, the Olympics 1908, and World-BuildingSome authors claim that it was commercial television that replaced descriptive accounts of sporting events with narratives of heroes and villains in the 1990s (Fabos). Yet even a cursory study of past sport reporting shows that, even back when newspapers had to explain the controversial outcome of the 1908 Olympic Marathon to their readers, they could already rely on a well-established typology of characters and events.In the second half of the 19th century, the rules of many sports became standardized. Individual events were integrated in organized, repetitive competitions—leagues, tournaments, and so on. This development was encouraged by the popular press, which thus enabled the public to compare performances from different places and across time (Werron, "On Public;" Werron, "World"). Rankings and tables condensed contests in easily comparable visual forms, and these were augmented by more narrative accounts that supplemented the numbers with details, context, drama, and the subjective experiences of athletes and spectators. Week by week, newspapers and special-interest magazines alike offered varying explanations for the various wins and losses.When London hosted the Olympics in 1908, the scheduled seriality and pre-determined settings and protagonists allowed for the announcement of upcoming events in advance and for setting up possible storylines. Two days before the marathon race, The Times of London published the rules of the race, the names of the participants, a distance table listing relevant landmarks with the estimated arrival times, and a turn-by-turn description of the route, sketching the actual experience of running the race for the readers (22 July 1908, p. 11). On the day of the race, The Times appealed to sport’s seriality with a comprehensive narrative of prior Olympic Marathon races, a map of the precise course, a discussion of the alleged favourites, and speculation on factors that might impact the performances:Because of their inelasticity, wood blocks are particularly trying to the feet, and the glitter on the polished surface of the road, if the sun happens to be shining, will be apt to make a man who has travelled over 20 miles at top speed turn more than a little dizzy … . It is quite possible that some of the leaders may break down here, when they are almost within sight of home. (The Times 24 July 1908, p. 9)What we see here can be described as a world-building process: The rules of a competition, the participating athletes, their former performances, the weather, and so on, all form “a more or less organized sum of scattered parts” (Boni 13). These parts could easily be taken up by what we now call different media platforms (which in 1908 included magazines, newspapers, and films) that combine them in different ways to already make claims about cause-and-effect chains, intentions, outcomes, and a multitude of subjective experiences, before the competition has even started.The actual course of events, then, like the single instalment in a fictional storyworld, has a dual function: on the one hand, it specifies one particular storyline with a few protagonists, decisive turning points, and a clear determination of winners and losers. On the other hand, it triggers the multiplication of follow-up stories, each suggesting specific explanations for the highly contingent outcome, thereby often extending the storyworld, invoking props, characters, character traits, causalities, and references to earlier instalments in the series, which might or might not have been mentioned in the preliminary reports.In the 1908 Olympic Marathon, the Italian Dorando Pietri, who was not on The Times’ list of favourites, reached the finish first. Since he was stumbling on the last 300 meters of the track inside the stadium and only managed to cross the finish line with the support of race officials, he was disqualified. The jury then declared the American John Hayes, who came in second, the winner of the race.The day after the marathon, newspapers gave different accounts of the race. One, obviously printed too hastily, declared Pietri dead; others unsurprisingly gave the race a national perspective, focusing on the fate of “their” athletes (Davis 161, 166). Most of them evaluated the event with respect to athletic, aesthetic, or ethical terms—e.g. declaring Pietri the moral winner of the race (as did Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in The Daily Mail of July 25). This continues today, as praising sport performers often figures as a last resort “to reconstruct unproblematic heroism” (Whannel 44).The general endeavour of modern sport to scrutinize and understand the details of the performance provoked competing explanations for what had happened: was it the food, the heat, or the will power? In a forensic spirit, many publications added drawings or printed one of the famous photographs displaying Pietri being guided across the finish line (these still regularly appear in coffee-table books on sports photography; for a more extensive analysis, see Stauff). Sport—just like other non-fictional transmedia content—enriches its storyworld through “historical accounts of places and past times that already have their own logic, practice and institutions” (Kerrigan and Velikovsky 259).The seriality of sport not only fostered this dynamic by starting the narrative before the event, but also by triggering references to past instalments through the contingencies of the current one. The New York Times took the biggest possible leap, stating that the 1908 marathon must have been the most dramatic competition “since that Marathon race in ancient Greece, where the victor fell at the goal and, with a wave of triumph, died” (The New York Times 25 July 1908, p. 1). Dutch sport magazine De Revue der Sporten (6 August 1908, p. 167) used sport’s seriality more soberly to assess Hayes’ finishing time as not very special (conceding that the hot weather might have had an effect).What, hopefully, has become clear by now, is that—starting in the late 19th century—sporting events are prepared by, and in turn trigger, varying practices of transmedia world-building that make use of the different media’s affordances (drawings, maps, tables, photographs, written narratives, etc.). Already in 1908, most people interested in sport thus quite probably came across multiple accounts of the event—and thereby could feel invited to come up with their own explanation for what had happened. Back then, this forensic attitude was mostly limited to speculation about possible cause-effect chains, but with the more extensive visual coverage of competitions, especially through moving images, storytelling harnessed an increasingly growing set of forensic tools.The World Cup 1966 and Transmedia ForensicsThe serialized TV live transmissions of sport add complexity to storytelling, as they multiply the material available for forensic proliferations of the narratives. Liveness provokes a layered and constantly adapting process transforming the succession of actions into a narrative (the “emplotment”). The commentators find themselves “in the strange situation of a narrator ignorant of the plot” (Ryan 87), constantly balancing between mere reporting of events and more narrative explanation of incidents (Barnfield 8).To create a coherent storyworld under such circumstances, commentators fall back on prefabricated patterns (“overcoming bad luck,” “persistence paying off,” etc.) to frame the events while they unfold (Ryan 87). This includes the already mentioned tropes of heroism or national and racial stereotypes, which are upheld as long as possible, even when the course of events contradicts them (Tudor). Often, the creation of “non-retrospective narratives” (Ryan 79) harnesses seriality, “connecting this season with last and present with past and, indeed, present with past and future” (Barnfield 10).Instant-replay technology, additionally, made it possible (and necessary) for commentators to scrutinize individual actions while competitions are still ongoing, provoking revisions of the emplotment. With video, DVD, and online video, the second-guessing and re-telling of elements—at least in hindsight—became accessible to the general audience as well, thereby dramatically extending the playing field for sport’s forensic attitude.I want to elaborate this development with another example from London, this time the 1966 Men’s Football World Cup, which was the first to systematically use instant replay. In the extra time of the final, the English team scored a goal against the German side: Geoff Hurst’s shot bounced from the crossbar down to the goal line and from there back into the field. After deliberating with the linesman, the referee called it a goal. Until today it remains contested whether the ball actually was behind the goal line or not.By 1966, 1908’s sparsity of visual representation had been replaced by an abundance of moving images. The game was covered by the BBC and by ITV (for TV) and by several film companies (in colour and in black-and-white). Different recordings of the famous goal, taken from different camera angles, still circulate and are re-appropriated in different media even today. The seriality of sport, particularly World Cup Football’s return every four years, triggers the re-telling of this 1966 game just as much as media innovations do.In 1966, the BBC live commentary—after a moment of doubt—pretty soberly stated that “it’s a goal” and observed that “the Germans are mad at the referee;” the ITV reporter, more ambivalently declared: “the linesman says no goal … that’s what we saw … It is a goal!” The contemporary newsreel in German cinemas—the Fox Tönende Wochenschau—announced the scene as “the most controversial goal of the tournament.” It was presented from two different perspectives, the second one in slow motion with the commentary stating: “these images prove that it was not a goal” (my translation).So far, this might sound like mere opposing interpretations of a contested event, yet the option to scrutinize the scene in slow motion and in different versions also spawned an extended forensic narrative. A DVD celebrating 100 years of FIFA (FIFA Fever, 2002) includes the scene twice, the first time in the chapter on famous controversies. Here, the voice-over avoids taking a stand by adopting a meta-perspective: The goal guaranteed that “one of the most entertaining finals ever would be the subject of conversation for generations to come—and therein lies the beauty of controversies.” The scene appears a second time in the special chapter on Germany’s successes. Now the goal itself is presented with music and then commented upon by one of the German players, who claims that it was a bad call by the referee but that the sportsmanlike manner in which his team accepted the decision advanced Germany’s global reputation.This is only included in the German version of the DVD, of course; on the international “special deluxe edition” of FIFA Fever (2002), the 1966 goal has its second appearance in the chapter on England’s World Cup history. Here, the referee’s decision is not questioned—there is not even a slow-motion replay. Instead, the summary of the game is wrapped up with praise for Geoff Hurst’s hat trick in the game and with images of the English players celebrating, the voice-over stating: “Now the nation could rejoice.”In itself, the combination of a nationally organized media landscape with the nationalist approach to sport reporting already provokes competing emplotments of one and the same event (Puijk). The modularity of sport reporting, which allows for easy re-editing, replacing sound and commentary, and retelling events through countless witnesses, triggers a continuing recombination of the elements of the storyworld. In the 50 years since the game, there have been stories about the motivations of the USSR linesman and the Swiss referee who made the decision, and there have been several reconstructions triggered by new digital technology augmenting the existing footage (e.g. King; ‘das Archiv’).The forensic drive behind these transmedia extensions is most explicit in the German Football Museum in Dortmund. For the fiftieth anniversary of the World Cup in 2016, it hosted a special exhibition on the event, which – similarly to the FIFA DVD – embeds it in a story of gaining global recognition for the fairness of the German team ("Deutsches Fußballmuseum").In the permanent exhibition of the German Football Museum, the 1966 game is memorialized with an exhibit titled “Wembley Goal Investigation” (“Ermittlung Wembley-Tor”). It offers three screens, each showing the goal from a different camera angle, a button allowing the visitors to stop the scene at any moment. A huge display cabinet showcases documents, newspaper clippings, quotes from participants, and photographs in the style of a crime-scene investigation—groups of items are called “corpus delicti,” “witnesses,” and “analysis.” Red hand-drawn arrows insinuate relations between different items; yellow “crime scene, do not cross” tape lies next to a ruler and a pair of tweezers.Like the various uses of the slow-motion replays on television, in film, on DVD, and on YouTube, the museum thus offers both hegemonic narratives suggesting a particular emplotment of the event that endow it with broader (nationalist) meaning and a forensic storyworld that offers props, characters, and action building-blocks in a way that invites fans to activate their own storytelling capacities.Conclusion: Sport’s Trans-Seriality Sport’s dependency on a public evaluation of its performances has made it a dynamic transmedia topic from the latter part of the 19th century onwards. Contested moments especially prompt a forensic attitude that harnesses the affordances of different media (and quickly takes advantage of technological innovations) to discuss what “really” happened. The public evaluation of performances also shapes the role of authorship and copyright, which is pivotal to transmedia more generally (Kustritz). Though the circulation of moving images from professional sporting events is highly restricted and intensely monetized, historically this circulation only became a valuable asset because of the sprawling storytelling practices about sport, individual competitions, and famous athletes in press, photography, film, and radio. Even though television dominates the first instance of emplotment during the live transmission, there is no primordial authorship; sport’s intense competition and partisanship (and their national organisation) guarantee that there are contrasting narratives from the start.The forensic storytelling, as we have seen, is structured by sport’s layered seriality, which establishes a rich storyworld and triggers ever new connections between present and past events. Long before the so-called seasons of radio or television series, sport established a seasonal cycle that repeats the same kind of competition with different pre-conditions, personnel, and weather conditions. Likewise, long before the complex storytelling of current television drama (Mittell, Complex TV), sport has mixed episodic with serial storytelling. On the one hand, the 1908 Marathon, for example, is part of the long series of marathon competitions, which can be considered independent events with their own fixed ending. On the other hand, athletes’ histories, continuing rivalries, and (in the case of the World Cup) progress within a tournament all establish narrative connections across individual episodes and even across different seasons (on the similarities between TV sport and soap operas, cf. O’Connor and Boyle).From its start in the 19th century, the serial publication of newspapers supported (and often promoted) sport’s seriality, while sport also shaped the publication schedule of the daily or weekly press (Mason) and today still shapes the seasonal structure of television and sport related computer games (Hutchins and Rowe 164). This seasonal structure also triggers wide-ranging references to the past: With each new World Cup, the famous goal from 1966 gets integrated into new highlight reels telling the German and the English teams’ different stories.Additionally, together with the contingency of sport events, this dual seriality offers ample opportunity for the articulation of “latent seriality” (Kustritz), as a previously neglected recurring trope, situation, or type of event across different instalments can eventually be noted. As already mentioned, the goal of 1966 is part of different sections on the FIFA DVDs: as the climactic final example in a chapter collecting World Cup controversies, as an important—but rather ambivalent—moment of German’s World Cup history, and as the biggest triumph in the re-telling of England’s World Cup appearances. In contrast to most fictional forms of seriality, the emplotment of sport constantly integrates such explicit references to the past, even causally disconnected historical events like the ancient Greek marathon.As a result, each competition activates multiple temporal layers—only some of which are structured as narratives. It is important to note that the public evaluation of performances is not at all restricted to narrative forms; as we have seen, there are quantitative and qualitative comparisons, chronicles, rankings, and athletic spectacle, all of which can create transmedia intertextuality. Sport thus might offer an invitation to more generally analyse how transmedia seriality combines narrative and other forms. Even for fictional transmedia, the immersion in a storyworld and the imagination of extended and alternative storylines might only be two of many dynamics that structure seriality across different media.AcknowledgementsThe two anonymous reviewers and Florian Duijsens offered important feedback to clarify the argument of this text.ReferencesBarnfield, Andrew. "Soccer, Broadcasting, and Narrative: On Televising a Live Soccer Match." Communication & Sport (2013): 326–341.Boni, Marta. "Worlds Today." World Building: Transmedia, Fans, Industries. Ed. Marta Boni. Amsterdam: Amsterdam UP, 2017. 9–27."Das Archiv: das Wembley-Tor." Karambolage, 19 June 2016. 6 Feb. 2018 <https://sites.arte.tv/karambolage/de/das-archiv-das-wembley-tor-karambolage>.The Daily Mail, 25 July 1908.Davis, David. Showdown at Shepherd’s Bush: The 1908 Olympic Marathon and the Three Runners Who Launched a Sporting Craze. 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