Journal articles on the topic 'Forsyth and Co'

Abstract Background Limited retrospective data suggest prophylactic oral vancomycin may prevent Clostridioides difficile infection (CDI). We sought to evaluate the effectiveness of oral vancomycin for the prevention of healthcare facility–onset CDI (HCFO-CDI) in targeted patients. Methods We conducted a randomized, prospective, open-label study at Novant Health Forsyth Medical Center in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, between October 2018 and April 2019. Included patients were randomized 1:1 to either oral vancomycin (dosed at 125 mg once daily while receiving systemic antibiotics and continued for 5 days postcompletion of systemic antibiotics [OVP]) or no prophylaxis. The primary endpoint was incidence of HCFO-CDI. Secondary endpoints included incidence of community-onset healthcare facility–associated CDI (CO-HCFA-CDI), incidence of vancomycin-resistant Enterococci (VRE) colonization after receiving OVP, adverse effects, and cost of OVP. Results A total of 100 patients were evaluated, 50 patients in each arm. Baseline and hospitalization characteristics were similar, except antibiotic exposure. No events of HCFO-CDI were noted in the OVP group compared with 6 (12%) in the no-prophylaxis group (P = .03). CO-HCFA-CDI was identified in 2 patients who were previously diagnosed with HCFO-CDI. No patients developed new VRE colonization, with only 1 patient reporting mild gastrointestinal side effects to OVP. A total of 600 doses of OVP were given during the study, with each patient receiving an average of 12 doses. Total acquisition cost of OVP was $1302, $26.04 per patient. Conclusion OVP appears to protect against HCFO-CDI during in-patient stay in targeted patients during systemic antibiotic exposure. Further prospective investigation is warranted.

Abstract Background Studies suggest oral vancomycin prophylaxis may be effective in preventing Clostridioides difficile infection. These studies are limited by their retrospective design, reliance on local clinical practice patterns, lack of intervention standardization, and limited risk stratification. We sought to evaluate the effectiveness of oral vancomycin for the prevention of healthcare facility-onset CDI (HCFO-CDI) in high-risk patients. Methods We conducted a randomized, prospective, open-label study at Novant Health Forsyth Medical Center in Winston-Salem, North Carolina between October 2018 and April 2019. Admitted high-risk patients (defined as: ≥ 60 years of age, hospitalized ≤ 30 days prior to the index hospitalization and received systemic antibiotics during that prior hospitalization and currently receiving systemic antibiotics) were randomized 1:1 to either oral vancomycin (dosed at 125 mg once daily while receiving systemic antibiotics and continued for 5 days post completion of systemic antibiotics [OVP]), or no prophylaxis. The primary endpoint was incidence of HCFO-CDI. Secondary endpoints included incidence of community-onset healthcare facility-associated CDI (CO-HCFA-CDI), development of VRE colonization after receiving OVP, and adverse effects and cost of OVP. Results A total of 100 patients were evaluated, 50 patients in each group. Baseline and hospitalization characteristics were similar in each group. No incidents of HCFO-CDI were diagnosed in the OVP group compared with 6 (12%) in the no prophylaxis group (P = 0.03). CO-HCFA-CDI was not observed in either group. No patients developed new VRE colonization with only 1 patient reporting mild gastrointestinal side-effects to OVP. A total of 600 doses of OVP were given during the study, with each patient receiving an average of 12 doses. Total acquisition cost of OVP was $728.25, $60.69 per patient. Conclusion OVP was highly effective in preventing HCFO-CDI. OVP was well tolerated with no apparent risk for VRE colonization. Further prospective investigation is warranted to determine the impact and cost-effectiveness of routine use of OVP in high-risk patients. Disclosures All authors: No reported disclosures.

The accumulation of total soluble sugars (TSS) and starch and their relationship to flower bud hardiness were studied in three Forsythia taxa: Forsythia ×intermedia `Spectabilis', Forsythia ×intermedia `Lynwood', and F. suspensa. Taxon hardiness was based on the mean temperature at which low temperature exotherms (LTEs) occurred during thermal analysis. Ethanol-extracted soluble sugars were quantified with anthrone, and starch was enzymatically digested and quantified with Trinder reagent. Qualitative changes in sugar content were determined with high-performance liquid chromatography and co-chromatography of authentic standards. Quantitative and qualitative changes in sugar content, similar for the three taxa, were observed in conjunction with fluctuations in flower bud hardiness, although neither TSS nor starch were correlated with mean LTE temperature. TSS was higher in acclimated than nonacclimated buds. However, after deacclimation began, sugars continued to increase with mean LTE temperature. Buds lacked starch except for a brief period during deacclimation. Galactose, stachyose, raffinose, and an unidentified carbohydrate were positively correlated with hardiness (P = 0.005, 0.001, 0.005, and 0.001, respectively).

On 5 July 1997, The Royal Ballet danced William Forsythe's Steptext as part of a final programme at its Royal Opera House home before the theatre closed for an extensive Millennial programme of rebuilding. Filmed by the BBC, the performance was televised as part of the 1997 Christmas schedule. This paper explores the striking parallels between the institutional critique staged by Steptext and the literal deconstruction which the Royal Opera House was about to undergo. It considers how the programme debated Covent Garden as British cultural institution just as the reconstruction of the Royal Opera House was imminent. Focusing first on Steptext's post-structuralist desire to excavate, disrupt, and disavow the apparently logical structures which have shaped the governing institutions of western performance, it moves to consider how the BBC programme makers co-opted, and extended to the fabric of the Royal Opera House itself, ballet's same potential to critique its own institutional history enshrined in Steptext. Having argued that Brecht might be an especially apt ally in Forsythe's realisation, through performance, of some of the fundamental tenets of Foucauldian theory, those relating to Foucault's re-conceptualisation of history especially, this paper moves finally to propose the performance and televisual adaptation of Steptext as a portal into new modes of reading the post-war Royal Ballet as Foucauldian subjugated, or effective, history.

Dental follicle cells could be a natural source of cells for regeneration therapies in periodontitis. The "red complex", which include Porphyromonas gingivalis, Treponema denticola and Tannerella forsythia, is strongly associated with periodontitis. However, the effects of "red complex" on dental follicle cells remains largely unknown. In this study, we evaluated the effects of bacterial extracts obtained from Porphyromonas gingivalis and from "red complex" (Porphyromonas gingivalis, Treponema denticola and Tannerella forsythia in co-culture) on proliferation, migration and osteogenic differentiation of human dental follicle cells. Our data showed that bacterial extracts promoted cell proliferation and migration, decreased the alkaline phosphatase activity, osteogenic genes expression and formation of mineral deposits. Noticeably, compared with the inhibitory effects induced by bacterial extracts from Porphyromonas gingivalis on osteogenic differentiation of human dental follicle cells, the inhibitory effects induced by bacterial extracts from "red complex" were more significant. In conclusion, the extracts from "red complex" pathogens inhibited osteogenic differentiation capacity of human dental follicle cells, and this provides a theoretical basis for the clinical application of stem cell therapy in periodontal tissue engineering.

The following is a transcription of the presentation by Kendall Thomas, co-creator with William Forsythe of the performance installation Human Writes, followed by a discussion with Thomas Keenan and Mark Franko. Kendall Thomas's talk was given simultaneously with a screening of a silent video documentation of the work. (The reader can find moving images of Human Writes at <http://www.art-tv.ch/human_writes.html>). The panel “Rights to Move: Choreographing the Human Rights Struggle,” of which this discussion was a part, also included the participation of Leah Cox, dancer of the Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company. The event was curated and moderated by Mark Franko and produced by Alan Pally, and it took place at the Bruno Walter Auditorium of the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts, Lincoln Center, on October 12, 2009.

<p><strong>Abstract.</strong> Forest agencies give special attention to forest fires where post-disaster loss can rarely be gauged in a quick and economic way unless an appropriate technology is adopted. Determination of the planimetric and volumetric changes between pre- and post-fire is in high demand. The FORSAT system (a satellite processing platform for high resolution forest assessment) was developed to meet the relevant demands. It has the capability of extracting of 3D geometric information from the very-high resolution (VHR) imagery from satellite optical sensors and automatic 3D change detection. FORSAT includes two main units. The first one is dedicated to the geometric and radiometric processing of satellite optical imagery and 2D/3D information extraction. This includes: image radiometric pre-processing, image and ground point measurement, improvement of geometric sensor orientation, quasi-epipolar image generation for stereo measurements, digital surface model (DSM) extraction by using a precise and robust image matching approach specially designed for VHR satellite imagery, generation of orthoimages, and 3D measurements in single images using mono-plotting and in stereo images. FORSAT supports most of the VHR optically imagery commonly used for civil applications: IKONOS, OrbView &amp;ndash; 3, SPOT &amp;ndash; 5 HRS, SPOT &amp;ndash; 5 HRG, QuickBird, GeoEye-1, WorldView-1/2, Pléiades 1A/1B, SPOT 6/7. The second unit of FORSAT is dedicated to 3D surface comparison for change detection. It allows users to import DSMs, to co-register them using an advanced 3D surface matching approach and to calculate the planimetric and volumetric changes between epochs. The capacity and benefits of FORSAT have been tested in two real cases, where are burned areas located in Cyprus and Austria. The geometric characteristics of burned forest areas have been identified both in 2D plane and 3D volume dimensions, using pre- and post-fire optical data from different sensors. FORSAT is a single source and flexible forest information solution, allowing expert and non-expert remote sensing users to monitor forests in three and four dimensions from VHR optical imagery for many forest information needs.</p>

The dried fruits of Forsythia viridissima have been prescribed to relive fever, pain, vomiting, and nausea in traditional medicine. Oxaliplatin (LOHP) is used to treat advanced colorectal cancer; however, it frequently induces peripheral neuropathies. This study was done to evaluate the neuroprotective effects of an aqueous extract of Forsythia viridissima fruits (EFVF) and its major constituents. Chemical constituents from EFVF were characterized and quantified with the UHPLC-diode array detector method, and three major constituents were identified as arctiin, matairesinol, and arctigenin. The in vitro cytotoxicity was measured by the Ez-cytox viability assay, and the in vivo neuroprotection activity was evaluated by a von Frey test in two rodent animal models that were administered LOHP. EFVF significantly alleviated the LOHP-induced mechanical hypersensitivity in the induction model. EFVF also prevented the induction of mechanical hyperalgesia by LOHP in the pre- and co-treatment of LOHP and EFVF. Consistently, EFVF exerted protective effects against LOHP-induced neurotoxicity as well as inhibited neurite outgrowths in PC12 and dorsal root ganglion cells. Among the major components of EFVF, arctigenin and matairesinol exerted protective effects against LOHP-induced neurotoxicity. Therefore, EFVF may be useful for relieving or preventing LOHP-induced peripheral neuropathy in cancer patients undergoing chemotherapy with LOHP.

The transport of proteins at the cell surface of Bacteroidetes depends on a secretory apparatus known as type IX secretion system (T9SS). This machine is responsible for the cell surface exposition of various proteins, such as adhesins, required for gliding motility in Flavobacterium, S-layer components in Tannerella forsythia, and tooth tissue-degrading enzymes in the oral pathogen Porphyromonas gingivalis. Although a number of subunits of the T9SS have been identified, we lack details on the architecture of this secretion apparatus. Here we provide evidence that five of the genes encoding the core complex of the T9SS are co-transcribed and that the gene products are distributed in the cell envelope. Protein-protein interaction studies then revealed that these proteins oligomerize and interact through a dense network of contacts.

The oral cavity of healthy individuals is inhabited by commensals, with species of Streptococcus being the most abundant and prevalent in sites not affected by periodontal diseases. The development of chronic periodontitis is linked with the environmental shift in the oral microbiome, leading to the domination of periodontopathogens. Structure-function studies showed that Streptococcus gordonii employs a “moonlighting” protein glyceraldehyde-3-phosphate dehydrogenase (SgGAPDH) to bind heme, thus forming a heme reservoir for exchange with other proteins. Secreted or surface-associated SgGAPDH coordinates Fe(III)heme using His43. Hemophore-like heme-binding proteins of Porphyromonas gingivalis (HmuY), Prevotella intermedia (PinO) and Tannerella forsythia (Tfo) sequester heme complexed to SgGAPDH. Co-culturing of P. gingivalis with S. gordonii results in increased hmuY gene expression, indicating that HmuY might be required for efficient inter-bacterial interactions. In contrast to the ΔhmuY mutant strain, the wild type strain acquires heme and forms deeper biofilm structures on blood agar plates pre-grown with S. gordonii. Therefore, our novel paradigm of heme acquisition used by P. gingivalis appears to extend to co-infections with other oral bacteria and offers a mechanism for the ability of periodontopathogens to obtain sufficient heme in the host environment. Importantly, P. gingivalis is advantaged in terms of acquiring heme, which is vital for its growth survival and virulence.

Improving mitochondrial dysfunction and inhibiting apoptosis has always been regarded as a treatment strategy for Alzheimer’s disease (AD). Isoforsythiaside (IFY), a phenylethanoid glycoside isolated from the dried fruit of Forsythia suspensa, displays antioxidant activity. This study examined the neuroprotective effects of IFY and its underlying mechanisms. In the L-glutamate (L-Glu)-induced apoptosis of HT22 cells, IFY increased cell viability, inhibited mitochondrial apoptosis, and reduced the intracellular levels of reactive oxygen species (ROS), caspase-3, -8 and -9 after 3 h of pretreatment and 12–24 h of co-incubation. In the APPswe/PSEN1dE9 transgenic (APP/PS1) model, IFY reduced the anxiety of mice, improved their memory and cognitive ability, reduced the deposition of beta amyloid (Aβ) plaques in the brain, restrained the phosphorylation of the tau protein to form neurofibrillary tangles, inhibited the level of 4-hydroxynonenal in the brain, and improved phosphatidylinositol 3-kinase (PI3K)/protein kinase B (AKT) signaling pathway-related mitochondrial apoptosis. In Aβ1-42-induced U251 cells, IFY relieved the mitochondrial swelling, crest ruptures and increased their electron density after 3 h of pretreatment and 18–24 h of co-incubation. The improved cell viability and mitochondrial function after IFY incubation was blocked by the synthetic PI3K inhibitor LY294002. Taken together, these results suggest that IFY exerts a protective effect against AD by enhancing the expression levels of anti-apoptosis proteins and reducing the expression levels of pro-apoptosis proteins of B-cell lymphoma-2 (BCL-2) family members though activating the PI3K/AKT pathway.

This article interrogates the status ofvirtuosityin dance through the co-constitutive paradigms of race, gender, and class, accounting for both the term's emergence in journalistic arts discourse and how “queer of color” critique refines its meaning in and for contemporary performance culture (Roderick Ferguson). Virtuosity operates at the supposed border between popular and “high” art, and “Soul” and the mechanical, defining the location of the virtuoso's potential transgression. Discourses of virtuosity in performance are linked to connotations of excess, and examining formal and sociocultural aspects of virtuosic dance reveals under-recognized heterogeneity generated by vernacular influences on high art. Founded in 1994 by Desmond Richardson (as muse) and Dwight Rhoden (as choreographer), Complexions Contemporary Ballet exemplifies how much of “Africanist” choreography resists performing “ontopolitical critique” through stillness, privileging speed, stylistic hybridity, and technical intricacy (Brenda Dixon Gottschild, André Lepecki). I propose and develop the termchoreographic falsetto, likening Richardson's virtuosity to that of black “Post-Soul” singers such as Prince, on the one hand, and nineteenth-century virtuoso musicians and composers such as Liszt, on the other (Francesca Royster). Richardson performs queer black masculinity by exploiting hyperbolic technical skills typically reserved for women, expanding upon choreographic aesthetics initiated by George Balanchine, William Forsythe, Alvin Ailey, and Ulysses Dove. Calling upon Theodor Adorno and Max Weber's theories of virtuosity and charisma in music and religion (in addition to Ferguson, Royster, Gottschild, Lepecki, Thomas DeFrantz, Nathaniel Mackey, Joseph Roach, Susan Bernstein, and Gabriele Brandstetter), I account for a historically and cross-culturally prevalent (if relatively forgotten) aspect of virtuosity, namely its position at the meeting point of gender, religion, capitalism, and individualism.

Two tandemly repeated DNA sequences, the 81-bp family and pOS218, have been isolated from a Sau3AI Olea europaea ssp. sativa partial genomic library. Sequencing of the 81-bp element showed the monomer to be between 78 and 84 bases long and to contain 51-58% adenine and thymidine residues. Comparison between the monomers revealed heterogeneity of the sequence primary structure. The clone pOS218 is 218 bases long, and sequence comparison between the two elements revealed that an internal region of the pOS218 repeated DNA sequence had 79% homology to the 81 bp repeat sequence. A breakage-reunion mechanism, involving the CAAAA sequence, could be responsible for the derivation of pOS218 from the 81 bp family element. By using double target in situ hybridization, co-localization of the two sequences on Olea chromosomes was observed. The sequences were present at DAPI stained heterochromatic regions, as major or minor sites having a subtelomeric or interstitial location. Methylation studies using two sets of isoschizomers, Sau3AI-MboI and MspI-HpaII, demonstrated that most cytosine residues in the GATC sites and the internal cytosine in the CCGG sites of both elements were methylated in O. europaea ssp. sativa. No major difference in methylation was apparent between DNA extracted from young leaves or from callus of O. europaea ssp.sativa. Both elements are also present in Olea chrysophylla, Olea oleaster, and Olea africana, but are absent from other Oleaceae genera, including Phillyrea, Forsythia, Ligustrum, Parasyringa, and Jasminum.Key words: in situ hybridization, methylation, Oleaceae, phylogenetic relationships, repeated sequences.

Background Tick-borne encephalitis (TBE) is the most important tick-borne viral disease in Eurasia and causes disease in humans and in a number of animals, among them dogs and horses. There is still no good correlation between tick numbers, weather conditions and human cases. There is the hypothesis that co-feeding due to simultaneous occurrence of larvae and nymphs may be a factor for the increased transmission of the virus in nature and for human disease. Based on long-term data from a natural TBEV focus, phylogenetic results and meteorological data we sought to challenge this hypothesis. Methods Ticks from an identified TBE natural focus were sampled monthly from 04/2009 to 12/2018. Ticks were identified and pooled. Pools were tested by RT-qPCR. Positive pools were confirmed by virus isolation and/or sequencing of additional genes (E gene, NS2 gene). Temperature data such as the decadal (10-day) mean daily maximum air temperature (DMDMAT) were obtained from a nearby weather station and statistical correlations between tick occurrence and minimal infection rates (MIR) were calculated. Results In the study period from 04/2009 to 12/2018 a total of 15,530 ticks (2,226 females, 2,268 males, 11,036 nymphs) were collected. The overall MIR in nymphs over the whole period was 77/15,530 (0.49%), ranging from 0.09% (2009) to 1.36% (2015). The overall MIR of female ticks was 0.76% (17/2,226 ticks), range 0.14% (2013) to 3.59% (2016). The overall MIR of males was 0.57% (13/2,268 ticks), range from 0.26% (2009) to 0.97% (2015). The number of nymphs was statistically associated with a later start of spring/vegetation period, indicated by the onset of forsythia flowering. Conclusion There was no particular correlation between DMDMAT dynamics in spring and/or autumn and the MIR of nymphs or adult ticks detected. However, there was a positive correlation between the number of nymphs and the number of reported human TBE cases in the following months, but not in the following year. The hypothesis of the importance of co-feeding of larvae and nymphs for the maintenance of transmission cycle of TBEV in nature is not supported by our findings.

Nickel orthosilicate (Ni2SiO4) has been found to decompose into its component binary oxides in oxygen potential gradients at 1373 K. Nickel oxide was formed at the high oxygen potential boundary, while silica was detected at the low oxygen potential side. Significant porosity and fissures were observed near the Ni2SiO4/SiO2 interface and the SiO2 layer. The critical oxygen partial pressure ratio required for decomposition varied from 1.63 to 2.15 as the oxygen pressures were altered from 1.01 ⊠ 105 to 2.7X 10−4 Pa, well above the dissociation pressure of Ni2SiO4. Platinum markers placed at the boundaries of the Ni2SiO4 sample indicated growth of NiO at the higher oxygen potential boundary, without any apparent transport of material to the low oxygen potential side. However, significant movement of the bulk Ni2SiO4 crystal with respect to the marker was not observed. The decomposition of the silicate occurs due to the unequal rates of transport of Ni and Si. The critical oxygen partial pressure ratio required for decomposition is related both to the thermodynamic stability of Ni2SiO4 with respect to component oxides and the ratio of diffusivities of nickel and silicon. Kinetic decomposition of multicomponent oxides, first discovered by Schmalzried, Laqua, and co-workers [H. Schmalzried, W. Laqua, and P. L. Lin, Z. Natur Forsch. Teil A 34, 192 (1979); H. Schmalzried and W. Laqua, Oxid. Met. 15, 339 (1981); W. Laqua and H. Schmalzried, Chemical Metallurgy—A Tribute to Carl Wagner (Metallurgical Society of the AIME, New York, 1981), p. 29] has important consequences for their use at high temperatures and in geochemistry.

Introduction: Although studies have demonstrated a J-shaped association of parity with cardiovascular disease, the association with vascular disease is not fully understood. We examined the association between parity and carotid-femoral pulse wave velocity (cfPWV), a measure of arterial stiffness. Hypothesis: Women who were never pregnant or had no live births and women with 5+ live births would have higher cfPWV and 5-year cfPWV change compared to women with 1-2 live births. Materials and Methods: We included 1220 women (average age 73.7; 21.9% Black) from the Atherosclerosis Risk in Communities - Neurocognitive Study, a cohort of 15,792 adults enrolled in 1987-1989 from four communities: Forsyth Co., NC; Jackson, MS; Minneapolis, MN; and Washington Co., MD. Technicians measured cfPWV at visit 5 (2011-13) and visit 6 or 7 (2016-19). At visit 2 (1990-92), women self-reported parity (number of prior live births), which we categorized as never pregnant or pregnant but no live births, 1-2 (referent), 3-4, and 5+ live births. We used linear regression models to evaluate associations of parity with visit 5 cfPWV and 5-year cfPWV change, adjusting for years between visits 5 and 6 or 7, age, race-center, education, body mass index, heart rate, mean arterial pressure, hypertension medication, and diabetes. Results: Participants reported having had no (7.7%), 1-2 (38.7%), 3-4 (40.0%), or 5+ (13.6%) prior live births. Women with 5+ live births had a higher visit 5 cfPWV (β=50.6 cm/s, 95% confidence interval (CI): 3.6-97.7 cm/s; Table) as compared to those with 1-2 live births. No statistically significant associations were observed for other parity groups and visit 5 cfPWV or cfPWV change. Conclusions: In later life, women with 5+ live births had higher arterial stiffness than those with 1-2 live births, but the rate of cfPWV change did not differ by parity. Longitudinal arterial stiffness measurements at mid-life are needed to better understand the effect of pregnancy on the trajectory of arterial stiffness among women in later life.

Aim: Explore the application and potential of video reflexive ethnography (VRE) to facilitate whole person care (WPC).Objectives: Discuss the ethical issues associated with VRE; explore the foundations of the methodology; and discuss its potential to facilitate WPC.Description: WPC requires a paradigm shift in how we see those we care for, how we see our co-workers and how we see ourselves. VRE involves videoing real-time everyday clinical practice and or patient and family accounts of care, and then involving participants to analyse the visual data that they feature in or have gathered themselves. Uniquely, video footage can challenge the taken for granted and attune people to dimensions of themselves and others that they might not otherwise have considered. This has the potential to open people up to alternative ways of thinking and perceiving, being and acting. It offers “transformative potential” towards WPC.We draw from our diverse disciplinary perspectives to explore the potential of VRE as a tool to facilitate WPC. Using specific examples from five research studies, this workshop will demonstrate the use of VRE in a variety of health care contexts. The contexts of the studies we draw from include: end of life care; autism diagnostics; infection control, and intensive care.The workshop proceeds in four parts. We first invite you, the participant, to engage in a video reflexive event, where you are expected to reflect on the socio-interactive conduct that you produce as a group in response to a specific task. We then describe the process of VRE, outline its pedagogic and theoretical foundations, and present some examples from our research. We then invite questions about the theoretical basis and practical approach of VRE. Finally, participants will be asked to project a version of reflexive video onto their 'home' area of research, and reason about potential outcomes.1. Carroll, K., Iedema, R. and Kerridge, I. 2008, 'Reshaping ICU Ward Round Practices Using Video Reflexive Ethnography', Qualitative Health Research, vol. 18, no. 3, pp. 380-390.2. Collier, A. 2012, 'Safe Healing Environments', in N. Godbold and M. Vaccarella (eds), Autonomous Responsible Alone: The Complexities of Patient Empowerment, Interdisciplinary Press, London, pp. 155-170.3. Iedema, R. 2011, 'Creating Safety by Strengthening Clinicians' Capacity for Reflexivity ', British Medical Journal, vol. 20, pp. S83-S86.4. Iedema, R. and Carroll, K. 2011, 'The 'clinalyst': Institutionalising reflexive space to realise safety and flexible systematisation in health care', Journal of Organisational Change Management vol. 4, no. 1, pp. 65-86.5. Iedema, R., Long, D., Forsyth, D. and Lee, B.B. 2006, 'Visibilising Clinical Work: Video ethnography in the contemporary hospital', Health Sociology Review, vol. 15, pp. 156-168.

Background: Despite the growing use of pulse wave velocity (PWV), a measure of arterial stiffness that is predictive of cardiovascular disease and all-cause mortality, the repeatability of central, lower-extremity, and composite measures of PWV has not been examined. Objectives: Characterize the repeatability of PWV in a multi-center, population-based study of older adults. Methods: We included a subset of the ARIC visit 5 (2011-2013) participants (n=79; mean age 75.7 years; 46 females) from the following four United States communities: Forsyth County, NC; Jackson, MS; Minneapolis, MN; and Washington County, MD who underwent two standardized exams 4-8 weeks apart. At each exam, trained and certified technicians obtained two PWV measurements following a standardized protocol using the VP-1000 Plus system (Omron Co., Ltd., Kyoto, Japan). Measurements included carotid-femoral PWV (cfPWV), right brachial-ankle PWV (baPWV) and right femoral-ankle PWV (faPWV). We excluded participants with evidence of a major arrhythmia on a 12-lead electrocardiogram, aortic stenosis, body mass index >40 kg/m 2 , and excluded PWV values >3 standard deviations away from the mean. We used random-effects mixed models to parse the variance of the measures into their between-participant, between-visit, and within-visit components, then calculated the intra-class correlation coefficient (ICC) and estimated the number of replicates needed to achieve an ICC of 0.9 using the Spearman-Brown formula and the lower bound of the ICC 95% confidence interval (95% CI). We also calculated the minimal detectable change (MDC; 95% confidence) and minimal detectable difference (MDD). Results: Between-participant variation accounted for 69% to 84% of the total variation in cfPWV, baPWV and faPWV. The ICCs (95% CIs) were 0.70 (0.59, 0.81) for cfPWV, 0.84 (0.78, 0.90) for baPWV, and 0.69 (0.59, 0.79) for faPWV. The number of replicates to achieve an ICC of 0.90 was 6 for cfPWV and faPWV and 3 for baPWV. The overall means and standard deviations (SD) were 1,198.9 ± 269.6 cm/s for cfPWV, 1,742.0 ± 328.3 cm/s for baPWV, and 1,063.4 ± 189.4 cm/s for faPWV. The MDC between repeat measures within an individual was 411.0 cm/s for cfPWV, 370.6 cm/s for baPWV, and 301.4 cm/s for faPWV. The MDD for two independent samples of 100 per group was 139.3 cm/s for cfPWV, 172.3 cm/s for baPWV, and 100.4 cm/s for faPWV. Conclusion: The repeatability is excellent for baPWV and fair for cfPWV and faPWV. The MDC was approximately 1 SD for baPWV and 1.5 SDs for cfPWV and faPWV and the MDD for 100 per group was approximately 0.5 SD for cfPWV, baPWV and faPWV. Averaging replicates would reduce the effects of measurement variability. These results support the use of PWV in clinical and epidemiologic studies; however, to minimize potential bias, studies need to consider measurement variability in design development and in the analysis and interpretation of results.

Introducción: Porphyromonas gingivalis es una bacteria asociadacon la periodontitis. Expresa una amplia gama de factores devirulencia, incluyendo las fimbrias, las cuales están codificadas porel gen FimA que representa seis genotipos conocidos. Objetivo: Identificar los genotipos de FimA de P. gingivalis enpacientes de Cali - Colombia , incluyendo la co -infección conAggregatibacter actinomycetemcomitans, Treponema denticola yTannerella forsythia. Métodos: Se obtuvieron muestras subgingivales de 151 individuoscon diferentes diagnósticos periodontales. La ocurrencia de P.gingivalis, los genotipos de FimA y otras bacterias se determinó porPCR. Resultados: Porphyromonas gingivalis fue positiva en 85 pacientes.El genotipo FimA II fue más prevalente, pero no hubo diferenciassignificativas entre los grupos de estudio (54.3%) , FimA IV fue elmás frecuente en la gingivitis (13.0%). Una alta correlación (p=0.000) se encontró entre P. gingivalis , T. denticola y T. forsythia.El genotipo FimA II estuvo correlacionado con la detección de T.denticola y T. forsythia. Conclusiones: Porphyromonas gingivalis tuvo una alta frecuenciaincluso en el grupo de individuos sanos. Se encontró una tendenciahacia una mayor frecuencia de FimA II en pacientes con periodontitismoderada y severa. El genotipo FimA II también se asoció con unamayor profundidad de la bolsa, una mayor pérdida de nivel deinserción, y con los pacientes en los que se detectó co-infección conT. denticola y T. forsythia

Two strains of Pseudomonas syringae subsp. savastanoi were isolated from Forsythia sp. and Nerium oleander in Hungary in 1997. The effects of growth regulators produced by the bacteria were studied in different experiments. The strains were co-cultured with Sorbus redliana in vitro shoots without being in contact with the plant on solid media. Further culture filtrates in different concentrations were added to the culture medium. The growth regulators presented in the agar caused knot formation on the shoots and on the leaves in both kinds of culture. There were significant differences in the cultural and physiological characters, auxin and cytokinin activity of the strains of different origin.

I examined variation in community structure, species richness, biomass and abundance of Coprini dung beetles from 45 trapping sites in meadows, 35-year-old secondary forests and primary forests in tropical, high-elevation karst ecosystems of Puluong Nature Reserve, Thanh Hoa Province. My main aim was to explore community response to the influence of land use change. By comparing the structure and community attributes of the beetles between 35-year-old secondary forests and primary forests, I expected to give indications on the conservation value of the old secondary forests for beetle conservation. Community structure significantly differed among land-use types. Species richness, abundance and biomass were significantly higher in forest habitats than in meadows. The cover of ground vegetation, soil clay content and tree diameter are important factors structuring Coprini communities in karst ecosystems of Pu Luong. 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Abstract Background The dried fruits of Forsythia suspensa has generally been used to clear heat and detoxify in traditional Korean and Chinese medicine. Oxaliplatin is a first-line treatment chemotherapeutic agent for advanced colorectal cancer, but it induces peripheral neuropathy as an adverse side effect affecting the treatment regimen and the patient’s quality of life. The present study was conducted to evaluate the neuroprotective effects of an aqueous extract of F. suspensa fruits (EFSF) on oxaliplatin-induced peripheral neuropathy. Methods The chemical components from EFSF were characterized and quantified using the ultra-high performance liquid chromatography-diode array detector system. The cytotoxicities of anticancer drugs in cancer cells and PC12 cells were assessed by the Ez-Cytox viability assay. To measure the in vitro neurotoxicity, the neurite outgrowth was analyzed in the primary dorsal root ganglion (DRG) cells, and neural PC12 cells that were differentiated with nerve growth factor. To evaluate the in vivo neuroprotective activity, the von Frey test was performed in six-week-old male mice (C57BL/6) receiving EFSF (60–600 mg/kg) in the presence of 20–30 mg/kg cumulative doses of oxaliplatin. Thereafter, the mice were euthanized for immunohistochemical staining analysis with an antibody against PGP9.5. Results EFSF attenuated the cytotoxic activities of the various anticancer drugs in neural PC12 cells, but did not affect the anticancer activity of oxaliplatin in human cancer cells. Oxaliplatin remarkably induced neurotoxicities including cytotoxicity and the inhibited neurite outgrowth of DRG and neural PC12 cells. However, the co-treatment of EFSF (100 μg/ml) with oxaliplatin completely reversed the oxaliplatin-induced neurotoxicity. Forsythoside A, the major component of EFSF, also exerted remarkable neuroprotective effects against the oxaliplatin-induced neurotoxicity. In addition, EFSF (60–200 mg/kg) significantly alleviated the oxaliplatin-induced mechanical allodynia and loss of intra-epidermal nerve fiber to the levels of the vehicle control in the mouse peripheral neuropathy model. Conclusions EFSF could be considered a useful herbal medicine for the treatment of peripheral neuropathy in cancer patients receiving chemotherapy with oxaliplatin.

Wandering the aisles of my local Woolworths in April this year, I noticed a large number of chocolate bilbies replacing chocolate rabbits. In these harsh economic times it seems that even the Easter bunny is in danger of losing his Easter job. While the changing shape of Easter chocolate may seem to be a harmless affair, the expulsion of the rabbit from Easter celebrations has a darker side. In this paper I look at the campaign to replace the Easter bunny with the Easter bilby, and the implications this mediated conservation move has for living rabbits in the Australian ecosystem. Essential to this discussion is the premise that studies of ecology must take into account the impact of media and culture on environmental issues. Of particular interest is the role of narrative, and the way the stories we tell about rabbits determine how they are treated in real life. While I recognise that the Australian bilby’s struggle for survival is a tale which should be told, I also argue that the vilification of the European-Australian rabbit is part of the native/invasive dualism which has ceased to be helpful, and has instead become a motivator of unproductive violence. In place of this simplified dichotomous narrative, I propose an ethic of "ecological remembrance" to combat the totalising eradication of the European rabbit from the Australian environment and culture. The Bilby vs the Bunny: A Case Study in "Media Selection" Easter Bunny says, ‘Bilby, I want you to have my job.You know about sharing and taking care.I think Australia should have an Easter Bilby.We rabbits have become too greedy and careless.Rabbits must learn from bilbies and other bush creatures’. The lines above are taken from Ali Garnett and Kaye Kessing’s children’s story, Easter Bilby, co-published by the Australian Anti-Rabbit Research Foundation as part of the campaign to replace the Easter bunny with the eco-politically correct Easter bilby. The first chocolate bilbies were made in 1982, but the concept really took off when major chocolate retailer Darrell Lea became involved in 2002. Since this time Haigh’s chocolate, Cadbury, and Pink Lady have also released delicious cocoa natives for consumption, and both Darrell Lea and Haigh’s use their profits to support bilby assistance programs, creating the “pleasant Easter sensation” that “eating a chocolate bilby is helping save the real thing” (Phillips). The Easter bilby campaign is a highly mediated approach to conservation which demonstrates the new biological principle Phil Bagust has recognised as “media selection.” Bagust observes that in our “hybridised global society” it is impossible to separate “the world of genetic selection from the world of human symbolic and material diversity as if they exist in different universes” (8). The Australian rabbit thrives in “natural selection,” having adapted to the Australian environment so successfully it threatens native species and the economic productivity of farmers. But the rabbit loses out in “cultural selection” where it is vilified in the media for its role in environmental degradation. The campaign to conserve the bilby depends, in a large part, on the rabbit’s failures in “media selection”. On Good Friday 2012 Sky News Australia quoted Mike Drinkwater of Wild Life Sydney’s support of the Easter bilby campaign: Look, the reason that we want to highlight the bilby as an iconic Easter animal is, number one, rabbits are a pest in Australia. Secondly, the bilby has these lovely endearing rabbit-like qualities. And thirdly, the bilby is a beautiful, iconic, native animal that is struggling. It is endangered so it’s important that we do all we can to support that. Drinkwater’s appeal to the bilby’s “endearing rabbit-like qualities” demonstrates that it is not the Australian rabbit’s individual embodiment which detracts from its charisma in Australian society. In this paper I will argue that the stories we tell about the European-Australian rabbit’s alienation from Indigenous country diminish the species cultural appeal. These stories are told with passionate conviction to save and protect native flora and fauna, but, too often, this promotion of the native relies on the devaluation of non-native life, to the point where individual rabbits are no longer morally considerable. Such a hierarchical approach to conservation is not only ethically problematic, but can also be ineffective because the native/invasive approach to ecology is overly simplistic. A History of Rabbit Stories In the Easter Bilby children’s book the illustrated rabbit offers to make itself disappear from the “Easter job.” The reason for this act of self-destruction is a despairing recognition of its “greedy and careless” nature, and at the same time, its selfless offer to be replaced by the ecologically conscious Bilby. In this sacrificial gesture is the implicit offering of all rabbit life for the salvation of native ecosystems and animal life. This plot line slots into a much larger series of stories we have been telling about the Australian environment. Libby Robin has observed that settler Australians have always had a love-hate relationship with the native flora and fauna of the continent (6), either devaluing native plants, animals, and ecosystems, or launching into an “overcompensating patriotic strut about the Australian biota” (Robin 9). The colonising dynamic of early Australian society was built on the devaluation of animals such as the bilby. This was reflected in the introduction of feral animals by “acclimatisation societies” and the privileging of “pets” such as cats and dogs over native animals (Plumwood). Alfred Crosby has made the persuasive argument that the invasion of Australia, and other “neo-European” countries, was, necessarily, more-than-human. In his work, Ecological Imperialism, Crosby charts the historical partnership between human European colonisers in Indigenous lands and the “grunting, lowing, neighing, crowing, chirping, snarling, buzzing, self-replicating and world-altering avalanche” (194) of introduced life that they brought with them. In response to this “guilt by association” Australians have reversed the values in the dichotomous colonial dynamic to devalue the introduced and so “empower” the colonised native. In this new “anti-colonial” story, rabbits signify a wound of colonisation which has spread across and infected indigenous country. J. M. Arthur’s (130) analysis of language in relation to colonisation highlights some of the important lexical characteristics in the rabbit stories we now tell. He observes that the rabbits’ impact on the county is described using a vocabulary of contamination: “It is a ‘menace’, a ‘problem’, an ‘infestation’, a ‘nuisance’, a ‘plague’” (170). This narrative of disease encourages a redemptive violence against living rabbits to “cure” the rabbit problem in order to atone for human mistakes in a colonial past. Redemptive Violence in Action Rabbits in Australia have been subject to a wide range of eradication measures over the past century including shooting, the destruction of burrows, poisoning, ferreting, trapping, and the well-known rabbit proof fence in Western Australia. Particularly noteworthy in this slaughter has been the introduction of biological control measures with the release of the savage and painful disease Myxomatosis in late December 1950, followed by the release of the Calicivirus (Rabbit Haemorrhage Disease, or RHD) in 1996. As recently as March 2012 the New South Wales Department of Primary Industries announced a 1.5 million dollar program called “RHD Boost” which is attempting to develop a more effective biological control agent for rabbits who have become immune to the Calicivirus. In this perverse narrative, disease becomes a cure for the rabbit’s contamination of Australian environments. Calicivirus is highly infectious, spreads rapidly, and kills rabbits en masse. Following the release of Calicivirus in 1995 it killed 10 million rabbits in eight weeks (Ponsonby Veterinary Centre). While Calicivirus appears to be more humane than the earlier biological control, Myxomatosis, there are indications that it causes rabbits pain and stress. Victims are described as becoming very quiet, refusing to eat, straining for breath, losing coordination, becoming feverish, and excreting bloody nasal discharge (Heishman, 2011). Post-mortem dissection generally reveals a “pale and mottled liver, many small streaks or blotches on the lungs and an enlarged spleen... small thrombi or blood clots” (Coman 173). Public criticism of the cruel methods involved in killing rabbits is often assuaged with appeals to the greater good of the ecosystem. The Anti-Rabbit research foundation state on their Website, Rabbit-Free Australia, that: though killing rabbits may sound inhumane, wild rabbits are affecting the survival of native Australian plants and animals. It is our responsibility to control them. We brought the European rabbit here in the first place — they are an invasive pest. This assumption of personal and communal responsibility for the rabbit “problem” has a fundamental blind-spot. Arthur (130) observes that the progress of rabbits across the continent is often described as though they form a coordinated army: The rabbit extends its ‘dominion’, ‘dispossesses’ the indigenous bilby, causes sheep runs to be ‘abandoned’ and country ‘forfeited’, leaving the land in ‘ecological tatters’. While this language of battle pervades rabbit stories, humans rarely refer to themselves as invaders into Aboriginal lands. Arthur notes that, by taking responsibility for the rabbit’s introduction and eradication, the coloniser assumes an indigenous status as they defend the country against the exotic invader (134). The apprehension of moral responsibility can, in this sense, be understood as the assumption of settler indigeneity. This does not negate the fact that assuming human responsibility for the native environment can be an act of genuine care. In a country scarred by a history of ecocide, movements like the Easter Bilby campaign seek to rectify the negligent mistakes of the past. The problem is that reactive responses to the colonial devaluation of native life can be unproductive because they preserve the basic structure of the native/invasive dichotomy by simplistically reversing its values, and fail to respond to more complex ecological contexts and requirements (Plumwood). This is also socially problematic because the native/invasive divide of nonhuman life overlays more complex human politics of colonisation in Australia. The Native/Invasive Dualism The bilby is currently listed as an “endangered” species in Queensland and as “vulnerable” nationally. Bilbies once inhabited 70% of the Australian landscape, but now inhabit less than 15% of the country (Save the Bilby Fund). This dramatic reduction in bilby numbers has multiple causes, but the European rabbit has played a significant role in threatening the bilby species by competing for burrows and food. Other threats come from the predation of introduced species, such as feral cats and foxes, and the impact of farmed introduced species, such as sheep and cattle, which also destroy bilby habitats. Because the rabbit directly competes with the bilby for food and shelter in the Australian environment, the bilby can be classed as the underdog native, appealing to that larger Australian story about “the fair go”. It seems that the Easter bilby campaign is intended to level out the threat posed by the highly successful and adaptive rabbit through promoting the bilby in the “cultural selection” stakes. This involves encouraging bilby-love, while actively discouraging love and care for the introduced rabbits which threaten the bilby’s survival. On the Rabbit Free Australia Website, the campaign rationale to replace the Easter bunny with the Easter bilby claims that: Very young children are indoctrinated with the concept that bunnies are nice soft fluffy creatures whereas in reality they are Australia’s greatest environmental feral pest and cause enormous damage to the arid zone. In this statement the lived corporeal presence of individual rabbits is denied as the “soft, fluffy” body disappears behind the environmentally problematic species’ behaviour. The assertion that children are “indoctrinated” to find rabbits love-able, and that this conflicts with the “reality” of the rabbit as environmentally destructive, denies the complexity of the living animal and the multiple possible responses to it. That children find rabbits “fluffy” is not the result of pro-rabbit propaganda, but because rabbits are fluffy! That Rabbit Free Australia could construe this to be some kind of elaborate falsehood demonstrates the disappearance of the individual rabbit in the native/invasive tale of colonisation. Rabbit-Free Australia seeks to eradicate the animal not only from Australian ecosystems, but from the hearts and minds of children who are told to replace the rabbit with the more fitting native bilby. There is no acceptance here of the rabbit as a complex animal that evokes ambivalent responses, being both worthy of moral consideration, care and love, and also an introduced and environmentally destructive species. The native/invasive dualism is a subject of sustained critique in environmental philosophy because it depends on a disjunctive temporal division drawn at the point of European settlement—1788. Environmental philosopher Thom van Dooren points out that the divide between animals who belong and animals who should be eradicated is “fundamentally premised on the reification of a specific historical moment that ignores the changing and dynamic nature of ecologies” (11). Mark Davis et al. explain that the practical value of the native/invasive dichotomy in conservation programs is seriously diminished and in some cases is becoming counterproductive (153). They note that “classifying biota according to their adherence to cultural standards of belonging, citizenship, fair play and morality does not advance our understanding of ecology” (153). Instead, they promote a more inclusive approach to conservation which accepts non-native species as part of Australia’s “new nature” (Low). Recent research into wildlife conservation indicates a striking lack of evidence for the case that pest control protects native diversity (see Bergstromn et al., Davis et al., Ewel & Putz, Reddiex & Forsyth). The problematic justification of “killing for conservation” becomes untenable when conservation outcomes are fundamentally uncertain. The mass slaughter which rabbits have been subjected to in Australia has been enacted with the goal of fostering life. This pursuit of creation through destruction, of re-birth through violent death, enacts a disturbing twist where death comes to signal the presence of life. This means, perversely, that a rabbit’s dead body becomes a valuable sign of environmental health. Conservation researchers Ben Reddiex and David M. Forsyth observe that this leads to a situation where environmental managers are “more interested in estimating how many pests they killed rather than the status of biodiversity they claimed to be able to protect” (715). What Other Stories Can We Tell about the Rabbit? With an ecological narrative that is failing, producing damage and death instead of fostering love and life, we are left with the question—what other stories can we tell about the place of the European rabbit in the Australian environment? How can the meaning ecologies of media and culture work in harmony with an ecological consciousness that promotes compassion for nonhuman life? Ignoring the native/invasive distinction entirely is deeply problematic because it registers the ecological history of Australia as continuity, and fails to acknowledge the colonising impact of European settlement on the environment. At the same time, continually reinforcing that divide through pro-invasive or pro-native stories drastically simplifies complex and interconnected ecological systems. Instead of the unproductive native/invasive dualism, ecologists and philosophers alike are suggesting “reconciliatory” approaches to the inhabitants of our shared environments which emphasise ecology as relational rather than classificatory. Evolutionary ecologist Scott P. Carroll uses the term “conciliation biology” as an alternative to invasion biology which focuses on the eradication of invasive species. “Conciliation biology recognises that many non-native species are permanent, that outcomes of native-nonnative interactions will vary depending on the scale of assessment and the values assigned to the biotic system, and that many non-native species will perform positive functions in one or more contexts” (186). This hospitable approach aligns with what Michael Rosensweig has termed “reconciliation ecology”—the modification and diversification of anthropogenic habitats to harbour a wider variety of species (201). Professor of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology Mark Bekoff encourages a “compassionate conservation” which avoids the “numbers game” of species thinking where certain taxonomies are valued above others and promotes approaches which “respect all life; treat individuals with respect and dignity; and tread lightly when stepping into the lives of animals”(24). In a similar vein environmental philosopher Deborah Bird Rose offers the term “Eco-reconciliation”, to describe a mode of “living generously with others, singing up relationships so that we all flourish” (Wild Dog 59). It may be that the rabbit cannot live in harmony with the bilby, and in this situation I am unsure of what a conciliation approach to ecology might look like in terms of managing both of these competing species. But I am sure what it should not look like if we are to promote approaches to ecology and conservation which avoid the simplistic dualism of native/invasive. The devaluation of rabbit life to the point of moral inconsiderability is fundamentally unethical. By classifying certain lives as “inappropriate,” and therefore expendable, the process of rabbit slaughter is simply too easy. The idea that the rabbit should disappear is disturbing in its abstract approach to these living, sentient creatures who share with us both place and history. A dynamic understanding of ecology dissipates the notion of a whole or static “nature.” This means that there can be no simple or comprehensive directives for how humans should interact with their environments. One of the most insidious aspects of the native/invasive divide is the way it makes violent death appear inevitable, as though rabbits must be culled. This obscures the many complex and contingent choices which determine the fate of nonhuman life. Understanding the dynamism of ecology requires an acceptance that nature does not provide simple prescriptive responses to problems, and instead “people are forced to choose the kind of environment they want” (189) and then take actions to engender it. This involves difficult decisions, one of which is culling to maintain rabbit numbers and facilitate environmental resilience. Living within a world of “discordant harmonies”, as Daniel Botkin evocatively describes it, environmental decisions are necessarily complex. The entanglement of ecological systems demands that we reject simplistic dualisms which offer illusory absolution from the consequences of the difficult choices humans make about life, ecologies, and how to manage them. Ecological Remembrance The vision of a rabbit-free Australia is unrealistic. As organisation like the Anti-Rabbit Research Foundation pursue this future ideal, they eradicate rabbits from the present, and seek to remove them from the past by replacing them culturally with the more suitable bilby. Culled rabbits lie rotting en masse in fields, food for no one, and even their cultural impact in human society is sought to be annihilated and replaced with more appropriate native creatures. The rabbits’ deaths do not turn back to life in transformative and regenerative processes that are ecological and cultural, but rather that death becomes “an event with no future” (Rose, Wild Dog 25). This is true oblivion, as the rabbit is entirely removed from the world. In this paper I have made a case for the importance of stories in ecology. I have argued that the kinds of stories we tell about rabbits determines how we treat them, and so have positioned stories as an essential part of an ecological system which takes “cultural selection” seriously. In keeping with this emphasis on story I offer to the conciliation push in ecological thinking the term “ecological remembrance” to capture an ethic of sharing time while sharing space. This spatio-temporal hospitality is focused on maintaining heterogeneous memories and histories of all beings who have impacted on the environment. In Deborah Bird Rose’s terms this is a “recuperative work” which commits to direct dialogical engagement with the past that is embedded in the present (Wild Country 23). In this sense it is a form of recuperation that promotes temporal and ecological continuity. Eco-remembrance aligns with dynamic understandings of ecology because it is counter-linear. Instead of approaching the past as a static idyll, preserved and archived, ecological remembrance celebrates the past as an ongoing, affective presence which is lived and performed. Ecological remembrance, applied to the European rabbit in Australia, would involve rejecting attempts to extricate the rabbit from Australian environments and cultures. It would seek acceptance of the rabbit as part of Australia’s “new nature” (Low), and aim for recognition of the rabbit’s impact on human society as part of dynamic multi-species ecologies. In this sense ecological remembrance of the rabbit directly opposes the goal of the Foundation for Rabbit Free Australia to eradicate the European rabbit from Australian environment and culture. On the Rabbit Free Australia website, the section on biological controls states that “the point is not how many rabbits are killed, but how many are left behind”. The implication is that the millions upon millions of rabbit lives extinguished have vanished from the earth, and need not be remembered or considered. However, as Deborah Rose argues, “all deaths matter” (Wild Dog 21) and “no death is a mere death” (Wild Dog 22). Every single rabbit is an individual being with its own unique life. To deny this is tantamount to claiming that each rabbit that dies from shooting or poisoning is the same rabbit dying again and again. Rose has written that “death makes claims upon all of us” (Wild Dog 19). These are claims of ethics and compassion, a claim that “we look into the eyes of the dying and not flinch, that we reach out to hold and to help” (Wild Dog 20). This claim is a duty of remembrance, a duty to “bear witness” (Wiesel 160) to life and death. The Nobel Peace Prize winning author, Elie Wiesel, argued that memory is a reconciliatory force that creates bonds as mass annihilation seeks to destroy them. Memory ensures that no life becomes truly life-less as it wrests the victims of mass slaughter from “oblivion” and allows the dead to “vanquish death” (21). In a continent inhabited by dead rabbits—a community of the dead—remembering these lost individuals and their lost lives is an important task for making sure that no death is a mere death. An ethic of ecological remembrance follows this recuperative aim. References Arthur, Jay M. The Default Country: A Lexical Cartography of Twentieth-Century Australia. Sydney: UNSW Press, 2003. Bagust, Phil. “Cuddly Koalas, Beautiful Brumbies, Exotic Olives: Fighting for Media Selection in the Attention Economy.” “Imaging Natures”: University of Tasmania Conference Proceedings (2004). 25 April 2012 ‹www.utas.edu.au/arts/imaging/bagust.pdf› Bekoff, Marc. “First Do No Harm.” New Scientist (28 August 2010): 24 – 25. Bergstrom, Dana M., Arko Lucieer, Kate Kiefer, Jane Wasley, Lee Belbin, Tore K. Pederson, and Steven L. Chown. “Indirect Effects of Invasive Species Removal Devastate World Heritage Island.” Journal of Applied Ecology 46 (2009): 73– 81. Botkin, Daniel. B. Discordant Harmonies: A New Ecology for the Twenty-first Century. New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990. Carroll, Scott. P. “Conciliation Biology: The Eco-Evolutionary Management of Permanently Invaded Biotic Systems.” Evolutionary Applications 4.2 (2011): 184 – 99. Coman, Brian. Tooth and Nail: The Story of the Rabbit in Australia. Melbourne: The Text Publishing Company, 1999. Crosby, Alfred W. Ecological Imperialism: The Biological Expansion of Europe, 900 – 1900. Second Edition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004. Davis, Mark., Matthew Chew, Richard Hobbs, Ariel Lugo, John Ewel, Geerat Vermeij, James Brown, Michael Rosenzweig, Mark Gardener, Scott Carroll, Ken Thompson, Steward Pickett, Juliet Stromberg, Peter Del Tredici, Katharine Suding, Joan Ehrenfield, J. Philip Grime, Joseph Mascaro and John Briggs. “Don’t Judge Species on their Origins.” Nature 474 (2011): 152 – 54. Ewel, John J. and Francis E. Putz. “A Place for Alien Species in Ecosystem Restoration.” Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment 2.7 (2004): 354-60. Forsyth, David M. and Ben Reddiex. “Control of Pest Mammals for Biodiversity Protection in Australia.” Wildlife Research 33 (2006): 711–17. Garnett, Ali, and Kaye Kessing. Easter Bilby. Department of Environment and Heritage: Kaye Kessing Productions, 2006. Heishman, Darice. “VHD Factsheet.” House Rabbit Network (2011). 15 June 2012 ‹http://www.rabbitnetwork.org/articles/vhd.shtml› Low, Tim. New Nature: Winners and Losers in Wild Australia. Melbourne: Penguin, 2002. Phillips, Sara. “How Eating Easter Chocolate Can Save Endangered Animals.” ABC Environment (1 April 2010). 15 June 2011 ‹http://www.abc.net.au/environment/articles/2010/04/01/2862039.htm› Plumwood, Val. “Decolonising Australian Gardens: Gardening and the Ethics of Place.” Australian Humanities Review 36 (2005). 15 June 2012 ‹http://www.australianhumanitiesreview.org/archive/Issue-July-2005/09Plumwood.html› Ponsonby Veterinary Centre. “Rabbit Viral Hemorrhagic Disease (VHD).” Small Pets. 26 May 2012 ‹http://www.petvet.co.nz/small_pets.cfm?content_id=85› Robin, Libby. How a Continent Created a Nation. Sydney: UNSW Press, 2007. Rose, Deborah Bird. Reports From a Wild Country: Ethics for Decolonisation. Sydney: University of New South Wales Press, 2004. ——-. Wild Dog Dreaming: Love and Extinction. Charlottesville and London: University of Virginia Press, 2011. Rosenzweig, Michael. L. “Reconciliation Ecology and the Future of Species Diversity.” Oryx 37.2 (2003): 194 – 205. Save the Bilby Fund. “Bilby Fact Sheet.” Easterbilby.com.au (2003). 26 May 2012 ‹http://www.easterbilby.com.au/Project_material/factsheet.asp› Van Dooren, Thom. “Invasive Species in Penguin Worlds: An Ethical Taxonomy of Killing for Conservation.” Conservation and Society 9.4 (2011): 286 – 98. Wiesel, Elie. From the Kingdom of Memory. New York: Summit Books, 1990.

Abstract This article presents an empirical study that examines the teaching of conspiracy theories as part of the lower secondary history curriculum in Denmark. We argue that this topic is highly relevant, especially when taught in relation to the use of history. Within this approach, answering questions about true and false is secondary to understanding how and why alternative narratives co-exist and, at times, conflict. By applying a qualitative action research approach involving two teachers who taught in three different classes, our aim was to obtain in-depth knowledge of what happens in the classroom when different teaching strategies are applied, as well as to determine whether and, if so, how students show signs of critical thinking and historical reflection. Our results show that, although they required extended contextual knowledge to practise source evaluation and historical reflection, the students were highly motivated and participated actively in discussions. Both teachers in the study used an open-ended dialogic and enquiry-based approach to prompt their students to investigate the theories for themselves and to draw their own conclusions. When teachers facilitate classroom discussions in an open-ended way, the complex existential aspects of the use of history are opened up and students are given the opportunity to explore the complexity of historical narratives. During the observations, we noted some high-level examples of historical reflection and contextualisation among the students. However, the teaching of conspiracy theories is not an easy task, and teachers face many ethical dilemmas when deciding which role to adopt. Keywords: conspiracy theories, alternative narratives, use of history, controversial issues, teaching strategies, historical reflection Hvad er egentlig sandt? Tilgange til at undervise i konspirationsteorier og alternative forklaringer i historiefaget Sammendrag Denne artikel præsenterer et empirisk studie af, hvordan der kan undervises i konspira­tionsteorier i historie i udskolingen på en måde så elevernes historiske refleksion op­øves. Emnet er yderst historiefagligt relevant, særligt hvis det undersøges i forbindelse med historiebrug. I denne optik er besvarelser af spørgsmål om sandt og falsk sekundært i forhold til at forstå, hvordan og hvorfor alternative fortællinger eksisterer og til tider kommer i konflikt. Ved at anvende en kvalitativ aktionsforskningsmetode, der invol­verede et tæt samarbejde med to lærere, som underviste i tre forskellige klasser, var vores mål at opnå dybdegående viden om, hvad der sker i klasselokalet, når forskellige undervisningsstrategier tages i brug, samt at afgøre, om og i givet fald hvordan eleverne viste tegn på kritisk tænkning og historisk refleksion. Vores resultater viser, at selvom eleverne havde brug for omfattende kontekstuel viden for at kunne praktisere kildekritik og historisk refleksion, så var eleverne meget motiverede og deltog aktivt i klassediskussioner. Begge lærere i undersøgelsen brugte en åben dialogisk og undersøgelsesbaseret tilgang til at få deres elever til at undersøge teorierne for sig selv og til at drage deres egne konklusioner. Når lærere benytter en åben tilgang til diskussioner i klasseværelset, så åbnes der op for forståelsen af de mere komplekse eksistentielle aspekter af brugen af historie, og eleverne får dermed mulighed for at arbejde med kompleksiteten i historiske fortællinger. Vores observationer viser nogle eksempler på historisk refleksion og kontekstforståelse på højt niveau. Imidlertid er undervisningen i konspirationsteorier ikke en let opgave, og lærere står over for mange etiske dilemmaer, når de skal beslutte, hvilken rolle de skal indtage. Nøkkelord: konspirationsteorier, alternative fortællinger, historiebrug, kontroversielle emner, undervisningsstrategier, historisk refleksion

In this essay we challenge whether current conceptions of optimism, hope, and resilience are complete enough to account for the complexity and nuance of developing and maintaining these in practice. For example, a quick perusal of popular outlets (e.g., Forbes, Harvard Business Review) reveals advice to managers urging them to “be optimistic,” or “be happy” so that these types of emotions or feelings can spread to the workplace. One even finds simple advice and steps to follow on how to foster these types of things in the workplace (McKee; Tjan). We argue that this common perspective focuses narrowly on individuals and does not account for the complexity of resilience. Consequently, it denies the role of context, culture, and interactions as ways people develop shared meaning and reality. To fill this gap in our understanding, we take a social constructionist perspective to understand resilience. In other words, we foreground communication as the primary building block to sharing meaning and creating our worlds. In so doing, we veer away from the traditional focus on the individual and instead emphasise the social and cultural elements that shape how meaning is shared by peoples in various contexts (Fairhurst, Considering Context). Drawing on a communication, discourse-centered perspective we explore hope and optimism as concepts commonly associated with resilience in a work context. At work, leaders play a vital role in communicating ways that foster resilience in the face of organisational issues and events (e.g., environmental crises, downsizing). Following this lead, discursive leadership offers a framework that positions leadership as co-created and as the management of meaning through framing (Fairhurst, Power of Framing). Thus, we propose that a discursive leadership orientation can contribute to the communicative construction of resilience that moves away from individual perspectives to an emphasis on the social. From a discursive perspective, leadership is defined as a process of meaning management; attribution given by followers or observers; process-focused rather than leader-focused; and as shifting and distributed among several organizational members (Fairhurst Power of Framing). By switching from the individual focus and concentrating on social and cultural systems, discursive leadership is able to study concepts related to subjectivity, cultures, and identities as it relates to meaning. Our aim is to offer leaders an alternative perspective on resilience at the individual and group level by explaining how a discursive orientation to leadership can contribute to the communicative construction of resilience. We argue that a social constructionist approach provides a perspective that can unravel the multiple layers that make up hope, optimism, and resilience. We begin with a peek into the social scientific perspective that is so commonplace in media and popular portrayals of these constructs. Then, we explain the social constructionist perspective that grounds our framework, drawing on discursive leadership. Next, we present an alternative model of resilience, one that takes resilience as communicatively constructed and socially created. We believe this more robust perspective can help individuals, groups, and cultures be more resilient in the face of challenges. Social Scientific Perspectives Hope, optimism, and resilience have widely been spoken in the same breath; thus, in what follows we review how each is treated in common portrayals. In addition, we discuss each to point to further implications of our model proposed in this essay. Traditionally taken as cognitive states, each construct is based in an individual or an entity (Youssef and Luthans) and thus minimises the social and cultural. Hope Snyder, Irving, and Anderson define the construct of hope as “a positive motivational state that is based on an interactively derived sense of successful (1) agency (goal-directed energy) and (2) pathways (planning to meet goals)” (287). This cognitive set therefore is composed of the belief in the ability to create strategies toward a goal and the belief that those plans can be realised. Exploring hope can provide insight into how individuals deal with stress and more importantly how they use past experiences to produce effective routes toward goals (Brown Kirschman et al.). Mills-Scofield writing in Harvard Business Review mirrors this two-part hope structure and describes how to integrate hope into business strategy. Above all she emphasises that hope is based in fact, not fiction; the need to learn and apply from failures; and the need to focus on what is working instead of what is broken. These three points contribute to hope by reinforcing the strategies (pathways) and ability (agency) to accomplish a particular goal. This model of hope is widely held across social scientific and popular portrayals. This position, however, does not allow for exploring how forces of social interaction shape either how these pathways are created or how agency is developed in the first place. By contrast, a communication-centered approach like the one we propose foregrounds interaction and the various social forces necessary for hope to be fostered in the workplace. Optimism Optimism centers on how an individual processes the causality of an event (e.g., an organisational crisis). From this perspective, an employee facing significant conflict with his immediate supervisor, for example, may explain this threat as an opportunity to learn the importance of supervisor-subordinate relationships. This definition therefore explores how the individual interprets his/her world (Brown Kirschman et al.). According to Seligman et al. the ways in which one interprets events has its origins in several places: (1) genetics; (2) the environment in the form of modeling optimistic behaviours; (3) environment in forms of criticism; and (4) life experiences that teach personal mastery or helplessness (cited in Brown Kirschman et al.). Environmental sources function as a dialectical tension. On one hand the environment provides productive modeling for optimism behaviours, and on the other the environment, through criticism, produces the opposite. Both extremes illustrate the significance of cultural and societal factors as they contribute to optimism. Additionally, life experiences play a role in either mastery or helplessness. Again, interaction and social influences play a significant part in the development of optimism. Much like hope, due to the attention given to social and interactive forces, the concept of optimism requires a framework rooted in the social and cultural rather than the individual and cognitive. A significant drawback related to optimism (Brown Kirschman et al.) is the danger of unrelenting optimism and the possibility this has on producing unrealistic scenarios. Individuals, rather, should strive to acknowledge the facts (good or bad) of certain circumstances in order to learn how to properly manage automatic negative thoughts (Brown Kirschman et al.). Tony Schwartz writing in Harvard Business Review argues that “realistic optimism” is more than putting on a happy face but instead is more about telling what is the most hopeful and empowering of a given situation (1). Thus, a more interaction-based approach much like the model that we are proposing could help overcome some of optimism’s shortcomings. If the power of optimism is in the telling, then we need a model where the telling is front and center. Later, we propose such a model and method for helping leaders’ foster optimism in the workplace and in their communities. Resilience Resilience research offers several definitions and approaches in attempt to examine the phenomenon. Masten defines resilience as a “class of phenomena characterized by good outcomes in spite of serious threats to adaptation or development” (228). Luthar, Cicchetti, and Becker argue that resilience is “a dynamic process encompassing positive adaptation within the context of significant adversity” (543). Interestingly, resilience and developmental researchers alike have positioned resilience as an individual consistently meeting the expectations of a given society or culture within a particular historical context. Broadly speaking, two central conditions apply toward resilience: (1) the presence of significant threat or adversity; and (2) the achievement of positive adaptation (Luthar, Cicchetti, and Becker. Masten goes on to argue that resilience is however ordinary and naturally occurring. That is, the adaptive systems required during significant threat are already present in individuals and is not solely retained by a select few. Masten et al., argues that resilience does not come “from rare and special qualities, but from the operations of ordinary human systems in the biology and psychology of children, from the relationships in the family and community, and from schools, religions, cultures, and other aspects of societies” (129). Based on this, the emphasis of resilience should be within adaptive processes, such that are found in supportive relationships, emotion regulation, and environment engagement (Masten et al.), rather than on individuals. Of these varied interpretations of resilience, two research designs drive the academic literature— outcome- and process-based perspectives (Kolar). Those following an outcome-focused approach tend to concentrate on functionality and functional behaviour as key indicators of resilience (Kolar). Following this model, cognitive states such as composure, assurance, and confidence are examples of resilience. By contrast, a process-focused approach concentrates on the interplay of protective and risk factors as they influence the adaptive capacity of an individual (Kolar). This approach acknowledges that resilience is contextual and interactive, and is “a shared responsibility between individuals, their families, and the formal social system rather than as an individual burden (Kolar 425). This process-based approach toward resilience allows for greater inclusion of factors across individual, group, and societal levels (Kolar). The rigidity of outcome-based models and related constructs does not allow for such flexibility and therefore prevents exploring full accounts of resilience. A process-based approach allows for the inclusion of context throughout measures of resilience and acknowledges that interplay of risk and protective factors across the individual, social, and community level (Kolar). Bearing this in mind, what is needed are more complex models of resilience that account for a multiplicity of factors. An Alternate Framework: Social Construction of Reality Language is the tool storytellers use to generate interest and convey ideas. From a social constructionist standpoint, language is the primary mechanism in the construction of reality. Berger and Luckmann present language as a system that allows us to categorise subjective ideas, which over time accumulates into our “social stock of knowledge” (41). As our language creates the symbols that we use to make sense of the world around us, we add to our social knowledge thereby creating a shared vision of our own social reality. Because we accumulate varying levels and amounts of social knowledge, what we know of the world constantly changes. For example, in organisations, our discourse and on-going interactions with each other serve to shape what we consider to be real in our day-to-day lives. In this view, subjective experiences of individuals are central to our understanding of various events (e.g., organizational change, crises, conflict) and the ways in which we cope with such occurrences (e.g., through hope, optimism, resilience). Alternative Models of Resilience We take Buzzanell’s framework as inspiration for an alternative model of resilience. Her communication-centric model is based in messages, d/Discourse, and narrative where communication is an emergent process involving the interplay of messages and interaction (Buzzanell). Furthermore, the communicative construction of resilience involves “a collaborative exchange that invites participation of family, workplace, community, and interorganizational network members” (Buzzanell 9). This alternative perspective of resilience explores human communication resilience processes as the focal point rather than examining the person or entity. This is essentially a design change, where the focus shifts from the individual or singular toward the communication processes that enable resilience. Essentially, according to Poole, “in process, we can see resilience as dynamic, integrated, unfolding over time and through events, evolving into patterns, and dependent on contingencies” (qtd. in Buzzanell 2). Buzzanell describes five processes included in the communicative construction of resilience: (1) crafting normalcy; (2) affirming identity anchors; (3) maintaining and using communication networks; (4) legitimising negative feelings while foregrounding productive action; and (5) putting alternative logics to work. Here, we highlight two that most directly relate to the alternative model we propose. First, legitimising negative feelings while foregrounding productive action may sound like repression, but in fact it emphasises that negative feelings (nonproductive emotions) are real and that focusing on positive action enables success while facing significant threat. Furthermore, as a communicative construction, this process includes reframing of a situation both linguistically and metaphorically. This communicative process address a major drawback related to the optimism construct presented by Brown Kirschman and colleagues regarding the potential danger of unrelenting optimism. Similarly, putting alternative logics to work, in its practical application, creates resilient systems through (re)framing. Through (re)framing, individuals, groups, and communities can create their own logics that enable them to reintegrate when facing adverse experiences. That is, (re)framing provides an opportunity to endure unfavorable situations while creating communicatively creating conditions that enable adaptation. This idea can also be seen in popular press such as in the Harvard Business Review blog “Craft a Narrative to Instill Optimism” (Baldoni). According to Baldoni, leaders have a choice in creating the narrative of our world. Thus, leaders serve as the primary meaning managers in the workplace. Leadership and the Management of Meaning Kelly begins our discussion toward an ongoing discursive turn in leadership research. Much like hope, optimism, and resilience, Kelly proposes that leadership has been wrongly categorised and therefore has been inadequately observed. That is, due to focusing on trait-based leadership models espoused by leadership psychology the area of leadership has been left with significant deficits surrounding the very core of leadership. The lessons learned about the reductionist treatment of leadership can be applied to our understanding of resilience. Thus, we draw on discursive leadership because it provides an example for how leaders can foster resilience in various settings. The discursive turn stems from the incongruity seen in these traditional trait or style-based leadership approaches. From a social constructionist perspective, researchers are able to explore the forms in which leadership contributes to the meaning construction process, much in the same way that a communication perspective, outlined above, emphasises resilience as a process. This ontological shift in leadership research not only re-categorises leadership but also changes the ways in which leadership is studied. Kelly’s emphasis on a socially constructed view of leadership combined with alternative methodological approaches contributes to our aim to explore how a discursive leadership orientation can contribute to communicative construction of resilience. Discursive Leadership Discursive leadership views leadership as more of an art rather than a science, one that is contested and inventive (Fairhurst, Discursive Leadership). Where leadership psychology emphasises the individual and cognitive, discursive leadership highlights the cultural and the communicative (Fairhurst, Discursive Leadership). Leadership psychology is analogous to common, social scientific understandings of resilience that typically confines resilience into something easily attainable by individuals. The traditional leadership psychology literature attempts to determine causality among the cognitive, emotional, and behavioural elements of leader actors, whereas, discursive leadership takes discourse as the object of study to view how we think, see, and attribute leadership. Discursive leadership offers an optimal resource to view the communicative practices involved in the management of meaning and communicative construction of reality, including resilient systems and processes. Thus, we draw everything together now, and introduce practical interventions organisations can implement to foster hope, optimism, and resilience. An Alternate Model in Practice Attention to human capabilities and adaptive systems that promote healthy development and functioning have the potential to inform policy and programs that foster competence and human capital and aim to improve the health of communities and nations while also preventing problems (Masten 235). Masten’s words point to the tremendous potential of resilience. Thus, we wish to conclude with the implications of our perspective for individuals, groups, and communities. In what follows we briefly explain framing, and end with two interventions leaders can use to help foster resilience in the workplace. A common and practical example of language creating reality is framing. Fairhurst, in her book The Power of Framing explores framing as a leader’s ability to construct the reality of a subject or situation. A frame is simply defined as a mental picture where framing is the process of communicating this picture to others. Although words or language cannot alter any physical conditions, they may, however, influence our perceptions of them. Fairhurst goes on to “frame” leadership as co-created and not necessarily found in specific concrete acts. That is, leadership emerges when leader actors are deemed to have performed or demonstrated leadership by themselves and/or others. Leadership in this case is determined by attribution. For Fairhurst, leaders are able to shape and co-create meaning and reality by influencing the here and now. From this perspective interventions should be designed around the idea of creating alternative logics (Buzzanell) by emphasizing the elements of framing. For the sake of brevity, we wish to emphasise two fundamental areas surrounding process-oriented and communicative constructed resilience. It is our hope that leaders may use these takeaways and build upon them as they reflect how to position resilience at the individual and organisational level. First, interventions should focus on identifying the supportive adaptive systems at the individual, group, and societal level (e.g., family, work teams, community coalitions). This could be done through a series of dialogue sessions with an aim of challenging participants to not only identify systems but to also reflect upon how these systems contribute toward resilience. These could be duplicated in work settings and community settings (e.g., community forums and the like). Second, to emphasise framing, interventions should involve meaningful dialogue to help identify the particular conditions within a significant threat that will (a) lead to productive action and (b) enable individuals, groups, and communities to endure. Overall, an increased emphasis should be placed on helping participants understand how they are able to metaphorically and linguistically (Buzzanell) create the conditions surrounding adverse events. Our aim in this essay was to present an alternate model of various human processes that help people cope and bounce back from troubling times or events. Toward this end, we argued that media and popular portrayals of constructs such as hope, optimism, and resilience lack the complexity to account for how these can be put into practice. To fill this gap, we hope our communication-based model of resilience, with its emphasis on interaction will provide leaders and community members a method for engaging people in the process of coping and communicating resilience. Honoring the processual nature of these ideas is one step toward bettering individuals, groups, and communities. References Baldoni, John. “Craft a Narrative to Instill Optimism.” Harvard Business Review 17 Dec. 2009: 1. Berger, Peter L., and Thomas Luckmann. The Social Construction of Reality. New York: Anchor Books, 1966. Brown Kirschman, Keri J., Rebecca J. Johnson., Jade A. Bender., and Michael C. Roberts. “Positive Psychology for Children and Adolescents: Development, Prevention, and Promotion.” Oxford Handbook of Positive Psychology. Eds. Shane J. Lopez and Charles R. Snyder. New York: Oxford. 2009. 133-148. Buzzanell, Patrice M. “Resilience: Talking, Resisting, and Imagining New Normalcies into Being.” Journal of Communication 60 (2010): 1-14. Fairhurst, Gail T. The Power of Framing. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2011. ———. “Considering Context in Discursive Leadership Research.” Human Relations 62.11 (2009): 1607-1633. ———. Discursive Leadership: In Conversation with Leadership Psychology. Los Angeles: SAGE Publications, 2007. Kelly, Simon. “Leadership: A Categorical Mistake?” Human Relations 61.6 (2008): 763 – 82. Kolar, Katarina. “Resilience: Revisiting the Concept and Its Utility for Social Research.” International Journal of Mental Health Addiction 9 (2011): 421033. Luthar, Suniya S., Dante Cicchetti., and Bronwyn Becker. “The Construct of Resilience: A Critical Evaluation and Guidelines for Future Work.” Child Development 71.3 (2000): 543-562. Masten, Ann S. “Ordinary Magic: Resilience Processes in Development.” American Psychologist 56.3 (2001): 227-238. Masten, Ann S., J.J. Cutuli, Janette E. Herbers, Marie-Gabriel J. Reed. “Resilience in Development.” Oxford Handbook of Positive Psychology. Eds. Shane J. Lopez and Charles R. Snyder. New York: Oxford UP, 2009. 117-132. McKee, Annie. “Doing the Hard Work of Hope.” HBR Blog Network Oct. 2008: 1-2. Mills-Scofield, Deborah. “Hope Is a Strategy (Well, Sort Of).” Harvard Business Review 9 Oct. 2012: 1-2. Poole, Marshall S. “On the Study of Process in Communication Research.” Montreal, Quebec, Canada. May 2008. Fellows address at the International Communication Association annual meeting. Postman, Neil. Conscientious Objections: Stirring Up Trouble about Language, Technology, and Education. New York: Vintage Books, 1988. Schwartz, Tony. “Fueling Positive Emotions in a World Gone Mad.” Harvard Business Review 2 Nov. 2010: 1-2 Seligman, Martin E., et al. The Optimist Child. Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin, 1995. Snyder, Charles R., et al. “Hope and Health: Measuring the Will and the Ways.” Handbook of Social and Clinical Psychology: The Health Perspective. Eds. Charles R. Snyder and Donelson R. Forsyth. Elmsford: Pergamon, 1991. 285-305. Tjan, Anthony K. “Lead with Optimism.” HBR Blog Network May 2010: 1-2. Youssef, Carolyn M., and Luthans, Fred. “Positive Organizational Behavior in the Workplace: The Impact of Hope, Optimism, and Resilience.” Journal of Management 33.5 (2007): 774-800.

IntroductionDespite claims that the importance of distance has been reduced due to technological and communications improvements (Cairncross; Friedman; O’Brien), the ‘power of place’ still resonates, often intensifying the role of geography (Christopherson et al.; Morgan; Pratt; Scott and Storper). Within the film industry, there has been a decentralisation of production from Hollywood, but there remains a spatial logic which has preferenced particular centres, such as Toronto, Vancouver, Sydney and Prague often led by a combination of incentives (Christopherson and Storper; Goldsmith and O’Regan; Goldsmith et al.; Miller et al.; Mould). The emergence of high end television, television programming for which the production budget is more than £1 million per television hour, has presented new opportunities for screen hubs sharing a very similar value chain to the film industry (OlsbergSPI with Nordicity).In recent years, interventions have proliferated with the aim of capitalising on the decentralisation of certain activities in order to attract international screen industries production and embed it within local hubs. Tools for building capacity and expertise have proliferated, including support for studio complex facilities, infrastructural investments, tax breaks and other economic incentives (Cucco; Goldsmith and O’Regan; Jensen; Goldsmith et al.; McDonald; Miller et al.; Mould). Yet experience tells us that these will not succeed everywhere. There is a need for a better understanding of both the capacity for places to build a distinctive and competitive advantage within a highly globalised landscape and the relative merits of alternative interventions designed to generate a sustainable production base.This article first sets out the rationale for the appetite identified in the screen industries for co-location, or clustering and concentration in a tightly drawn physical area, in global hubs of production. It goes on to explore the latest trends of decentralisation and examines the upturn in interventions aimed at attracting mobile screen industries capital and labour. Finally it introduces the Scottish screen industries and explores some of the ways in which Scotland has sought to position itself as a recipient of screen industries activity. The paper identifies some key gaps in infrastructure, most notably a studio, and calls for closer examination of the essential ingredients of, and possible interventions needed for, a vibrant and sustainable industry.A Compulsion for ProximityIt has been argued that particular spatial and place-based factors are central to the development and organisation of the screen industries. The film and television sector, the particular focus of this article, exhibit an extraordinarily high degree of spatial agglomeration, especially favouring centres with global status. It is worth noting that the computer games sector, not explored in this article, slightly diverges from this trend displaying more spatial patterns of decentralisation (Vallance), although key physical hubs of activity have been identified (Champion). Creative products often possess a cachet that is directly associated with their point of origin, for example fashion from Paris, films from Hollywood and country music from Nashville – although it can also be acknowledged that these are often strategic commercial constructions (Pecknold). The place of production represents a unique component of the final product as well as an authentication of substantive and symbolic quality (Scott, “Creative cities”). Place can act as part of a brand or image for creative industries, often reinforcing the advantage of being based in particular centres of production.Very localised historical, cultural, social and physical factors may also influence the success of creative production in particular places. Place-based factors relating to the built environment, including cheap space, public-sector support framework, connectivity, local identity, institutional environment and availability of amenities, are seen as possible influences in the locational choices of creative industry firms (see, for example, Drake; Helbrecht; Hutton; Leadbeater and Oakley; Markusen).Employment trends are notoriously difficult to measure in the screen industries (Christopherson, “Hollywood in decline?”), but the sector does contain large numbers of very small firms and freelancers. This allows them to be flexible but poses certain problems that can be somewhat offset by co-location. The findings of Antcliff et al.’s study of workers in the audiovisual industry in the UK suggested that individuals sought to reconstruct stable employment relations through their involvement in and use of networks. The trust and reciprocity engendered by stable networks, built up over time, were used to offset the risk associated with the erosion of stable employment. These findings are echoed by a study of TV content production in two media regions in Germany by Sydow and Staber who found that, although firms come together to work on particular projects, typically their business relations extend for a much longer period than this. Commonly, firms and individuals who have worked together previously will reassemble for further project work aided by their past experiences and expectations.Co-location allows the development of shared structures: language, technical attitudes, interpretative schemes and ‘communities of practice’ (Bathelt, et al.). Grabher describes this process as ‘hanging out’. Deep local pools of creative and skilled labour are advantageous both to firms and employees (Reimer et al.) by allowing flexibility, developing networks and offsetting risk (Banks et al.; Scott, “Global City Regions”). For example in Cook and Pandit’s study comparing the broadcasting industry in three city-regions, London was found to be hugely advantaged by its unrivalled talent pool, high financial rewards and prestigious projects. As Barnes and Hutton assert in relation to the wider creative industries, “if place matters, it matters most to them” (1251). This is certainly true for the screen industries and their spatial logic points towards a compulsion for proximity in large global hubs.Decentralisation and ‘Sticky’ PlacesDespite the attraction of global production hubs, there has been a decentralisation of screen industries from key centres, starting with the film industry and the vertical disintegration of Hollywood studios (Christopherson and Storper). There are instances of ‘runaway production’ from the 1920s onwards with around 40 per cent of all features being accounted for by offshore production in 1960 (Miller et al., 133). This trend has been increasing significantly in the last 20 years, leading to the genesis of new hubs of screen activity such as Toronto, Vancouver, Sydney and Prague (Christopherson, “Project work in context”; Goldsmith et al.; Mould; Miller et al.; Szczepanik). This development has been prompted by a multiplicity of reasons including favourable currency value differentials and economic incentives. Subsidies and tax breaks have been offered to secure international productions with most countries demanding that, in order to qualify for tax relief, productions have to spend a certain amount of their budget within the local economy, employ local crew and use domestic creative talent (Hill). Extensive infrastructure has been developed including studio complexes to attempt to lure productions with the advantage of a full service offering (Goldsmith and O’Regan).Internationally, Canada has been the greatest beneficiary of ‘runaway production’ with a state-led enactment of generous film incentives since the late 1990s (McDonald). Vancouver and Toronto are the busiest locations for North American Screen production after Los Angeles and New York, due to exchange rates and tax rebates on labour costs (Miller et al., 141). 80% of Vancouver’s production is attributable to runaway production (Jensen, 27) and the city is considered by some to have crossed a threshold as:It now possesses sufficient depth and breadth of talent to undertake the full array of pre-production, production and post-production services for the delivery of major motion pictures and TV programmes. (Barnes and Coe, 19)Similarly, Toronto is considered to have established a “comprehensive set of horizontal and vertical media capabilities” to ensure its status as a “full function media centre” (Davis, 98). These cities have successfully engaged in entrepreneurial activity to attract production (Christopherson, “Project Work in Context”) and in Vancouver the proactive role of provincial government and labour unions are, in part, credited with its success (Barnes and Coe). Studio-complex infrastructure has also been used to lure global productions, with Toronto, Melbourne and Sydney all being seen as key examples of where such developments have been used as a strategic priority to take local production capacity to the next level (Goldsmith and O’Regan).Studies which provide a historiography of the development of screen-industry hubs emphasise a complex interplay of social, cultural and physical conditions. In the complex and global flows of the screen industries, ‘sticky’ hubs have emerged with the ability to attract and retain capital and skilled labour. Despite being principally organised to attract international production, most studio complexes, especially those outside of global centres need to have a strong relationship to local or national film and television production to ensure the sustainability and depth of the labour pool (Goldsmith and O’Regan, 2003). Many have a broadcaster on site as well as a range of companies with a media orientation and training facilities (Goldsmith and O’Regan, 2003; Picard, 2008). The emergence of film studio complexes in the Australian Gold Coast and Vancouver was accompanied by an increasing role for television production and this multi-purpose nature was important for the continuity of production.Fostering a strong community of below the line workers, such as set designers, locations managers, make-up artists and props manufacturers, can also be a clear advantage in attracting international productions. For example at Cinecitta in Italy, the expertise of set designers and experienced crews in the Barrandov Studios of Prague are regarded as major selling points of the studio complexes there (Goldsmith and O’Regan; Miller et al.; Szczepanik). Natural and built environments are also considered very important for film and television firms and it is a useful advantage for capturing international production when cities can double for other locations as in the cases of Toronto, Vancouver, Prague for example (Evans; Goldsmith and O’Regan; Szczepanik). Toronto, for instance, has doubled for New York in over 100 films and with regard to television Due South’s (1994-1998) use of Toronto as Chicago was estimated to have saved 40 per cent in costs (Miller et al., 141).The Scottish Screen Industries Within mobile flows of capital and labour, Scotland has sought to position itself as a recipient of screen industries activity through multiple interventions, including investment in institutional frameworks, direct and indirect economic subsidies and the development of physical infrastructure. Traditionally creative industry activity in the UK has been concentrated in London and the South East which together account for 43% of the creative economy workforce (Bakhshi et al.). In order, in part to redress this imbalance and more generally to encourage the attraction and retention of international production a range of policies have been introduced focused on the screen industries. A revised Film Tax Relief was introduced in 2007 to encourage inward investment and prevent offshoring of indigenous production, and this has since been extended to high-end television, animation and children’s programming. Broadcasting has also experienced a push for decentralisation led by public funding with a responsibility to be regionally representative. The BBC (“BBC Annual Report and Accounts 2014/15”) is currently exceeding its target of 50% network spend outside London by 2016, with 17% spent in Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. Channel 4 has similarly committed to commission at least 9% of its original spend from the nations by 2020. Studios have been also developed across the UK including at Roath Lock (Cardiff), Titanic Studios (Belfast), MedicaCity (Salford) and The Sharp Project (Manchester).The creative industries have been identified as one of seven growth sectors for Scotland by the government (Scottish Government). In 2010, the film and video sector employed 3,500 people and contributed £120 million GVA and £120 million adjusted GVA to the economy and the radio and TV sector employed 3,500 people and contributed £50 million GVA and £400 million adjusted GVA (The Scottish Parliament). Beyond the direct economic benefits of sectors, the on-screen representation of Scotland has been claimed to boost visitor numbers to the country (EKOS) and high profile international film productions have been attracted including Skyfall (2012) and WWZ (2013).Scotland has historically attracted international film and TV productions due to its natural locations (VisitScotland) and on average, between 2009-2014, six big budget films a year used Scottish locations both urban and rural (BOP Consulting, 2014). In all, a total of £20 million was generated by film-making in Glasgow during 2011 (Balkind) with WWZ (2013) and Cloud Atlas (2013), representing Philadelphia and San Francisco respectively, as well as doubling for Edinburgh for the recent acclaimed Scottish films Filth (2013) and Sunshine on Leith (2013). Sanson (80) asserts that the use of the city as a site for international productions not only brings in direct revenue from production money but also promotes the city as a “fashionable place to live, work and visit. Creativity makes the city both profitable and ‘cool’”.Nonetheless, issues persist and it has been suggested that Scotland lacks a stable and sustainable film industry, with low indigenous production levels and variable success from year to year in attracting inward investment (BOP Consulting). With regard to crew, problems with an insufficient production base have been identified as an issue in maintaining a pipeline of skills (BOP Consulting). Developing ‘talent’ is a central aspect of the Scottish Government’s Strategy for the Creative Industries, yet there remains the core challenge of retaining skills and encouraging new talent into the industry (BOP Consulting).With regard to film, a lack of substantial funding incentives and the absence of a studio have been identified as a key concern for the sector. For example, within the film industry the majority of inward investment filming in Scotland is location work as it lacks the studio facilities that would enable it to sustain a big-budget production in its entirety (BOP Consulting). The absence of such infrastructure has been seen as contributing to a drain of Scottish talent from these industries to other areas and countries where there is a more vibrant sector (BOP Consulting). The loss of Scottish talent to Northern Ireland was attributed to the longevity of the work being provided by Games of Thrones (2011-) now having completed its six series at the Titanic Studios in Belfast (EKOS) although this may have been stemmed somewhat recently with the attraction of US high-end TV series Outlander (2014-) which has been based at Wardpark in Cumbernauld since 2013.Television, both high-end production and local broadcasting, appears crucial to the sustainability of screen production in Scotland. Outlander has been estimated to contribute to Scotland’s production spend figures reaching a historic high of £45.8 million in 2014 (Creative Scotland ”Creative Scotland Screen Strategy Update”). The arrival of the program has almost doubled production spend in Scotland, offering the chance for increased stability for screen industries workers. Qualifying for UK High-End Television Tax Relief, Outlander has engaged a crew of approximately 300 across props, filming and set build, and cast over 2,000 supporting artist roles from within Scotland and the UK.Long running drama, in particular, offers key opportunities for both those cutting their teeth in the screen industries and also by providing more consistent and longer-term employment to existing workers. BBC television soap River City (2002-) has been identified as a key example of such an opportunity and the programme has been credited with providing a springboard for developing the skills of local actors, writers and production crew (Hibberd). This kind of pipeline of production is critical given the work patterns of the sector. According to Creative Skillset, of the 4,000 people in Scotland are employed in the film and television industries, 40% of television workers are freelance and 90% of film production work in freelance (EKOS).In an attempt to address skills gaps, the Outlander Trainee Placement Scheme has been devised in collaboration with Creative Scotland and Creative Skillset. During filming of Season One, thirty-eight trainees were supported across a range of production and craft roles, followed by a further twenty-five in Season Two. Encouragingly Outlander, and the books it is based on, is set in Scotland so the authenticity of place has played a strong component in the decision to locate production there. Producer David Brown began his career on Bill Forsyth films Gregory’s Girl (1981), Local Hero (1983) and Comfort and Joy (1984) and has a strong existing relationship to Scotland. He has been very vocal in his support for the trainee program, contending that “training is the future of our industry and we at Outlander see the growth of talent and opportunities as part of our mission here in Scotland” (“Outlander fast tracks next generation of skilled screen talent”).ConclusionsThis article has aimed to explore the relationship between place and the screen industries and, taking Scotland as its focus, has outlined a need to more closely examine the ways in which the sector can be supported. Despite the possible gains in terms of building a sustainable industry, the state-led funding of the global screen industries is contested. The use of tax breaks and incentives has been problematised and critiques range from use of public funding to attract footloose media industries to the increasingly zero sum game of competition between competing places (Morawetz; McDonald). In relation to broadcasting, there have been critiques of a ‘lift and shift’ approach to policy in the UK, with TV production companies moving to the nations and regions temporarily to meet the quota and leaving once a production has finished (House of Commons). Further to this, issues have been raised regarding how far such interventions can seed and develop a rich production ecology that offers opportunities for indigenous talent (Christopherson and Rightor).Nonetheless recent success for the screen industries in Scotland can, at least in part, be attributed to interventions including increased decentralisation of broadcasting and the high-end television tax incentives. This article has identified gaps in infrastructure which continue to stymie growth and have led to production drain to other centres. 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A slash manip is a photo remix that montages visual signs from popular media with those from gay pornography, creating a new cultural artefact. Slash (see Russ) is a fannish practice that homoeroticises the bonds between male media characters and personalities—female pairings are categorised separately as ‘femslash’. Slash has been defined almost exclusively as a female practice. While fandom is indeed “women-centred” (Bury 2), such definitions have a tendency to exclude male contributions. Remix has been well acknowledged in discussions on slash, most notably video remix in relation to slash vids (Kreisinger). Non-written slash forms such as slash vids (see Russo) and slash fanart (see Dennis) have received increased attention in recent years. This article continues the tradition of moving beyond fiction by considering the non-written form of slash manips, yet to receive sustained scholarly attention. Speaking as a practitioner—my slash manips can be found here—I perform textual analysis from an aca–fan (academic and fan) position of two Merlin slash manips by male Tumblr artist wandsinhand. My textual analysis is influenced by Barthes’s use of image semiotics, which he applies to the advertising image. Barthes notes that “all images are polysemous”, that underlying their signifiers they imply “a ‘floating chain’ of signifieds, the reader able to choose some and ignore others” (274). That said, the advertising image, he argues, constructs an “undoubtedly intentional […] signification”, making it ideally suited for analysis (270). By supplementing my analysis with excerpts from two interviews I conducted with wandsinhand in February and April 2013 (quoted here with permission), I support my readings with respect to the artist’s stated ‘intentional reading’. I then contextualise these readings with respect to canon (Merlin) representations and gay pornography—via the chosen sexual acts/positions, bukkake and doggystyle, of the pornographic base models, as selected by the artist. This approach allows me to examine the photo remix qualities of slash manips with respect to the artist’s intentions as well as how artistic choices of inclusion function to anchor meaning in the works. I describe these choices as the ‘semiotic significance of selection’. Together the readings and interviews in this article help illustrate the value of this form and the new avenues it opens for slash scholars, such as consideration of photo remix and male production, and the importance of gay pornography to slash. My interviews also reveal, via the artist’s own assessment of the ‘value’ of his practice, a tendency to devalue or overlook the significance of this particular slash form, affirming a real need for further critical engagement with this under-examined practice. Slash Photo Remix: Famous Faces, Porny Bodies Lessig defines remix culture as based on an activity of “rip, mix and burn” (12–5); while Navas describes it as a “practice of cut/copy and paste” (159)—the latter being more applicable to photo remix. Whereas Lessig is concerned primarily with issues of copyright, Navas is interested in remix’s role in aesthetics and the political economy. Within fan studies, slash vids—a form of video remix—has been a topic of considerable academic interest in recent years. Slash manips—a form of photo or image remix—however, has not attracted the same degree of interest. Stasi’s description of slash as “a non-hierarchical, rich layering of genres” points to the usefulness of slash manips as an embodiment of the process of slash; whereby artists combine, blend and mutate graphic layers from popular media with those from gay pornography. Aesthetics and the slash manip process are central concerns of this article’s consideration of slash photo remix. Slash manips, or slash photo montage, use image manipulation software (Adobe Photoshop being the community standard, see wandsinhand’s tutorial) to layer the heads of male fictional characters from stills or promotional images with scenes—static or moving—from gay pornography. Once an artist has selected pornographic ‘base models’ anatomically suited to canon characters, these models are often then repositioned into the canon universe, which in the case of Merlin means a medieval setting. (Works not repositioned and without added details from canon are generally categorised as ‘male celebrity fakes’ rather than ‘slash manips’.) Stedman contends that while many fan studies scholars are interested in remix, “studies commonly focus on examples of remixed objects rather than the compositional strategies used by remix composers themselves” (107). He advocates moving beyond an exclusive consideration of “text-centred approaches” to also consider “practice-” and “composer-centred” approaches. Such approaches offer insight into “the detailed choices composers actually make when composing” (107). He refers to recognition of the skills required by a remix composer as “remix literacy” (108). This article’s consideration of the various choices and skills that go into the composition of slash manips—what I term the ‘semiotic significance of selection’—is explored with respect to wandsinhand’s practice, coupling my reading—informed by my experience as a practitioner—with the interpretations of the artist himself. Jenkins defines slash as “reaction against” constructions of male sexuality in both popular media and pornography (189). By their very nature, slash manips also make clear the oft-overlooked connections between slash and gay pornography, and in turn the contributions of gay male participants, who are well represented by the form. This contrasts with a tendency within scholarship to compare slash with heterosexual female forms, such as the romance genre (Salmon and Symons). Gay pornography plays a visible role in slash manips—and slash vids, which often remix scenes from popular media with gay cinema and pornography. Slash as Romance, Slash as Pornography Early scholarship on slash (see Russ; Lamb and Veith) defines it as a form of erotica or pornography, by and for women; a reductive definition that fails to take into account men’s contribution, yet one that many researchers continue to adopt today. As stated above, there has also been a tendency within scholarship to align the practice with heterosexual female forms such as the romance genre. Such a tendency is by and large due to theorisation of slash as heterosexual female fantasy—and concerned primarily with romance and intimacy rather than sex (see Woledge). Weinstein describes slash as more a “fascination with” than a “representation of” homosexual relationships (615); while MacDonald makes the point that homosexuality is not a major political motivator for slash (28–9). There is no refuting that slash—along with most fannish practice—is female dominated, ethnographic work and fandom surveys reveal that is the case. However there is great need for research into male production of slash, particularly how such practices might challenge reigning definitions and assumptions of the practice. In similar Japanese practices, for example, gay male opposition to girls’ comics (shōjo) depicting love between ‘pretty boys’ (bishōunen) has been well documented (see Hori)—Men’s Love (or bara) is a subgenre of Boys’ Love (or shōnen’ai) predominately created by gay men seeking a greater connection with the lived reality of gay life (Lunsing). Dennis finds male slash fanart producers more committed to muscular representations and depiction of graphic male/male sex when compared with female-identifying artists (14, 16). He also observes that male fanart artists have a tendency of “valuing same-sex desire without a heterosexual default and placing it within the context of realistic gay relationships” (11). I have observed similar differences between male and female-identifying slash manip artists. Female-identifying Nicci Mac, for example, will often add trousers to her donor bodies, recoding them for a more romantic context. By contrast, male-identifying mythagowood is known for digitally enlarging the penises and rectums of his base models, exaggerating his work’s connection to the pornographic and the macabre. Consider, for example, mythagowood’s rationale for digitally enlarging and importing ‘lips’ for Sam’s (Supernatural) rectum in his work Ass-milk: 2012, which marks the third anniversary of the original: Originally I wasn’t going to give Sammy’s cunt any treatment (before I determined the theme) but when assmilk became the theme I had to go find a good set of lips to slap on him and I figured, it’s been three years, his hole is going to be MUCH bigger. (personal correspondence, used with permission) While mythagowood himself cautions against gendered romance/pornography slash arguments—“I find it annoying that people attribute certain specific aspects of my work to something ‘only a man’ would make.” (ibid.)—gay pornography occupies an important place in the lives of gay men as a means for entertainment, community engagement and identity-construction (see McKee). As one of the only cultural representations available to gay men, Fejes argues that gay pornography plays a crucial role in defining gay male desire and identity. This is confirmed by an Internet survey conducted by Duggan and McCreary that finds 98% of gay participants reporting exposure to pornographic material in the 30-day period prior to the survey. Further, the underground nature of gay pornographic film (see Dyer) aligns it with slash as a subcultural practice. I now analyse two Merlin slash manips with respect to the sexual positions of the pornographic base models, illustrating how gay pornography genres and ideologies referenced through these works enforce their intended meaning, as defined by the artist. A sexual act such as bukkake, as wandsinhand astutely notes, acts as a universal sign and “automatically generates a narrative for the image without anything really needing to be detailed”. Barthes argues that such a “relation between thing signified and image signifying in analogical representation” is unlike language, which has a much more ‘arbitrary’ relationship between signifier and signified (272). Bukkake and the Assertion of Masculine Power in Merlin Merlin (2008–12) is a BBC reimagining of the Arthurian legend that focuses on the coming-of-age of Arthur and his close bond with his manservant Merlin, who keeps his magical identity secret until Arthur’s final stand in the iconic Battle of Camlann. The homosexual potential of Merlin and Arthur’s story—and of magic as a metaphor for homosexuality—is something slash fans were quick to recognise. During question time at the first Merlin cast appearance at the London MCM Expo in October 2008—just one month after the show’s pilot first aired—a fan asked Morgan and James, who portray Merlin and Arthur, is Merlin “meant to be a love story between Arthur and Merlin?” James nods in jest. Wandsinhand, who is most active in the Teen Wolf (2011–present) fandom, has produced two Merlin slash manips to date, a 2013 Merlin/Arthur and a 2012 Arthur/Percival, both untitled. The Merlin/Arthur manip (see Figure 1) depicts Merlin bound and on his knees, Arthur ejaculating across his face and on his chest. Merlin is naked while Arthur is partially clothed in chainmail and armour. They are both bruised and dirty, Arthur’s injuries suggesting battle given his overall appearance, while Merlin’s suggesting abuse, given his subordinate position. The setting appears to be the royal stables, where we know Merlin spends much of his time mucking out Arthur’s horses. I am left to wonder if perhaps Merlin did not carry out this duty to Arthur’s satisfaction, and is now being punished for it; or if Arthur has returned from battle in need of sexual gratification and the endorsement of power that comes from debasing his manservant. Figure 1: wandsinhand, Untitled (Merlin/Arthur), 2013, photo montage. Courtesy the artist. Both readings are supported by Arthur’s ‘spent’ expression of disinterest or mild curiosity, while Merlin’s face emotes pain: crying and squinting through the semen obscuring his vision. The artist confirms this reading in our interview: “Arthur is using his pet Merlin to relieve some stress; Merlin of course not being too pleased about the aftermath, but obedient all the same.” The noun ‘pet’ evokes the sexual connotations of Merlin’s role as Arthur’s personal manservant, while also demoting Merlin even further than usual. He is, in Arthur’s eyes, less than human, a sexual plaything to use and abuse at will. The artist’s statement also confirms that Arthur is acting against Merlin’s will. Violence is certainly represented here, the base models having been ‘marked up’ to depict sexualisation of an already physically and emotionally abusive relationship, their relative positioning and the importation of semen heightening the humiliation. Wandsinhand’s work engages characters in sadomasochistic play, with semen and urine frequently employed to degrade and arouse—“peen wolf”, a reference to watersports, is used within his Teen Wolf practice. The two wandsinhand works analysed in this present article come without words, thus lacking a “linguistic message” (Barthes 273–6). However even so, the artist’s statement and Arthur’s stance over “his pet Merlin” mean we are still able to “skim off” (270) the meanings the image contains. The base models, for example, invite comparison with the ‘gay bukkake’ genre of gay pornography—admittedly with a single dominant male rather than a group. Gay bukkake has become a popular niche in North American gay pornography—it originated in Japan as a male–female act in the 1980s. It describes a ritualistic sexual act where a group of dominant men—often identifying as heterosexual—fuck and debase a homosexual, submissive male, commonly bareback (Durkin et al. 600). The aggression on display in this act—much like the homosocial insistency of men who partake in a ‘circle jerk’ (Mosher 318)—enables the participating men to affirm their masculinity and dominance by degrading the gay male, who is there to service (often on his knees) and receive—in any orifice of the group’s choosing—the men’s semen, and often urine as well. The equivalencies I have made here are based on the ‘performance’ of the bukkake fantasy in gay niche hazing and gay-for-pay pornography genres. These genres are fuelled by antigay sentiment, aggression and debasement of effeminate males (see Kendall). I wish here to resist the temptation of labelling the acts described above as deviant. As is a common problem with anti-pornography arguments, to attempt to fix a practice such as bukkake as deviant and abject—by, for example, equating it to rape (Franklin 24)—is to negate a much more complex consideration of distinctions and ambiguities between force and consent; lived and fantasy; where pleasure is, where it is performed and where it is taken. I extend this desire not to label the manip in question, which by exploiting the masculine posturing of Arthur effectively sexualises canon debasement. This began with the pilot when Arthur says: “Tell me Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?” Of the imported imagery—semen, bruising, perspiration—the key signifier is Arthur’s armour which, while torn in places, still ensures the encoding of particular signifieds: masculinity, strength and power. Doggystyle and the Subversion of Arthur’s ‘Armoured Self’ Since the romanticism and chivalric tradition of the knight in shining armour (see Huizinga) men as armoured selves have become a stoic symbol of masculine power and the benchmark for aspirational masculinity. For the medieval knight, armour reflects in its shiny surface the mettle of the man enclosed, imparting a state of ‘bodilessness’ by containing any softness beneath its shielded exterior (Burns 140). Wandsinhand’s Arthur/Percival manip (see Figure 2) subverts Arthur and the symbolism of armour with the help of arguably the only man who can: Arthur’s largest knight Percival. While a minor character among the knights, Percival’s physical presence in the series looms large, and has endeared him to slash manip artists, particularly those with only a casual interest in the series, such as wandsinhand: Why Arthur and Percival were specifically chosen had really little to do with the show’s plot, and in point of fact, I don’t really follow Merlin that closely nor am I an avid fan. […] Choosing Arthur/Percival really was just a matter of taste rather than being contextually based on their characterisations in the television show. Figure 2: wandsinhand, Untitled (Arthur/Percival), 2012, photo montage. Courtesy the artist. Concerning motivation, the artist explains: “Sometimes one’s penis decides to pick the tv show Merlin, and specifically Arthur and Percival.” The popularity of Percival among manip artists illustrates the power of physicality as a visual sign, and the valorisation of size and muscle within the gay community (see Sánchez et al.). Having his armour modified to display his muscles, the implication is that Percival does not need armour, for his body is already hard, impenetrable. He is already suited up, simultaneously man and armoured. Wandsinhand uses the physicality of this character to strip Arthur of his symbolic, masculine power. The work depicts Arthur with a dishevelled expression, his armoured chest pressed against the ground, his chainmail hitched up at the back to expose his arse, Percival threading his unsheathed cock inside him, staring expressionless at the ‘viewer’. The artist explains he “was trying to show a shift of power”: I was also hinting at some sign of struggle, which is somewhat evident on Arthur’s face too. […] I think the expressions work in concert to suggest […] a power reversal that leaves Arthur on the bottom, a position he’s not entirely comfortable accepting. There is pleasure to be had in seeing the “cocky” Arthur forcefully penetrated, “cut down to size by a bigger man” (wandsinhand). The two assume the ‘doggystyle’ position, an impersonal sexual position, without eye contact and where the penetrator sets the rhythm and intensity of each thrust. Scholars have argued that the position is degrading to the passive party, who is dehumanised by the act, a ‘dog’ (Dworkin 27); and rapper Snoop ‘Doggy’ Dogg exploits the misogynistic connotations of the position on his record Doggystyle (see Armstrong). Wandsinhand is clear in his intent to depict forceful domination of Arthur. Struggle is signified through the addition of perspiration, a trademark device used by this artist to symbolise struggle. Domination in a sexual act involves the erasure of the wishes of the dominated partner (see Cowan and Dunn). To attune oneself to the pleasures of a sexual partner is to regard them as a subject. To ignore such pleasures is to degrade the other person. The artist’s choice of pairing embraces the physicality of the male/male bond and illustrates a tendency among manip producers to privilege conventional masculine identifiers—such as size and muscle—above symbolic, nonphysical identifiers, such as status and rank. It is worth noting that muscle is more readily available in the pornographic source material used in slash manips—muscularity being a recurrent component of gay pornography (see Duggan and McCreary). In my interview with manip artist simontheduck, he describes the difficulty he had sourcing a base image “that complimented the physicality of the [Merlin] characters. […] The actor that plays Merlin is fairly thin while Arthur is pretty built, it was difficult to find one. I even had to edit Merlin’s body down further in the end.” (personal correspondence, used with permission) As wandsinhand explains, “you’re basically limited by what’s available on the internet, and even then, only what you’re prepared to sift through or screencap yourself”. Wandsinhand’s Arthur/Percival pairing selection works in tandem with other artistic decisions and inclusions—sexual position, setting, expressions, effects (perspiration, lighting)—to ensure the intended reading of the work. Antithetical size and rank positions play out in the penetration/submission act of wandsinhand’s work, in which only the stronger of the two may come out ‘on top’. Percival subverts the symbolic power structures of prince/knight, asserting his physical, sexual dominance over the physically inferior Arthur. That such a construction of Percival is incongruent with the polite, impeded-by-my-size-and-muscle-density Percival of the series speaks to the circumstances of manip production, much of which is on a taste basis, as previously noted. There are of course exceptions to this, the Teen Wolf ‘Sterek’ (Stiles/Derek) pairing being wandsinhand’s, but even in this case, size tends to couple with penetration. Slash manips often privilege physicality of the characters in question—as well as the base models selected—above any particular canon-supported slash reading. (Of course, the ‘queering’ nature of slash practice means at times there is also a desire to see such identifiers subverted, however in this example, raw masculine power prevails.) This final point is in no way representative—my practice, for example, combines manips with ficlets to offer a clearer connection with canon, while LJ’s zdae69 integrates manips, fiction and comics. However, common across slash manip artists driven by taste—and requests—rather than connection with canon—the best known being LJ’s tw-31988, demon48180 and Tumblr’s lwoodsmalestarsfakes, all of whom work across many fandoms—is interest in the ‘aesthetics of canon’, the blue hues of Teen Wolf or the fluorescent greens of Arrow (2012–present), displayed in glossy magazine format using services such as ISSUU. In short, ‘the look’ of the work often takes precedent over canonical implications of any artistic decisions. “Nothing Too Serious”: Slash Manips as Objects Worth Studying It had long been believed that the popular was the transient, that of entertainment rather than enlightenment; that which is manufactured, “an appendage of the machinery”, consumed by the duped masses and a product not of culture but of a ‘culture industry’ (Adorno and Rabinbach 12). Scholars such as Radway, Ang pioneered a shift in scholarly practice, advancing the cultural studies project by challenging elitism and finding meaning in traditionally devalued cultural texts and practices. The most surprising outcome of my interviews with wandsinhand was hearing how he conceived of his practice, and the study of slash: If I knew I could get a PhD by writing a dissertation on Slash, I would probably drop out of my physics papers! […] I don’t really think too highly of faking/manip-making. I mean, it’s not like it’s high art, is it? … or is it? I guess if Duchamp’s toilet can be a masterpiece, then so can anything. But I mainly just do it to pass the time, materialise fantasies, and disperse my fantasies unto others. Nothing too serious. Wandsinhand erects various binaries—academic/fan, important/trivial, science/arts, high art/low art, profession/hobby, reality/fantasy, serious/frivolous—as justification to devalue his own artistic practice. Yet embracing the amateur, personal nature of his practice frees him to “materialise fantasies” that would perhaps not be possible without self-imposed, underground production. This is certainly supported by his body of work, which plays with taboos of the unseen, of bodily fluids and sadomasochism. My intention with this article is not to contravene views such as wandsinhand’s. Rather, it is to promote slash manips as a form of remix culture that encourages new perspectives on how slash has been defined, its connection with male producers and its symbiotic relationship with gay pornography. I have examined the ‘semiotic significance of selection’ that creates meaning in two contrary slash manips; how these works actualise and resist canon dominance, as it relates to the physical and the symbolic. This examination also offers insight into this form’s connection to and negotiation with certain ideologies of gay pornography, such as the valorisation of size and muscle. 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