Journal articles on the topic 'Gigolos'

The existence of students in the community should play a role as a drafter, dynamist, and evaluator of various social changes. Something that has a positive impact on the community. But some of them do the opposite, having a negative impact on the community, such as acting as a gigolo, known as ‘exclusive gigolo’. This research presents the meaningful actions carried out by exclusive gigolo to attract sympathy and various actions in providing excellent service to clients. These actions were examined from the perspective of Max Weber's Theory of Social Action. This research used a qualitative approach with the perspective of Weber's theory. The research subjects were students who worked as gigolos, ranging from freelance to a lover (manstress). The informants were selected using the snowball sampling technique. Meanwhile, the data collection technique used is in-depth interviews. Data analysis and interpretation techniques are carried out with a deeper understanding (verstehen). There are gigolo social actions, within the framework of norm values, which become the blueprint of community behavior. First, the integration between rationality actions and instrumental rationality actions. These actions were found in activities, including: (1) Gigolo built his self-image: from self-expertise to intelligence in choosing marketing models; (2) Ignoring the feeling of shame as self-strengthening in facing various situations; (3) Client service actions: from holding hands to sexual activity. Second, the integration between rationality action and affective action. The highest achievement for gigolo is to become a lover (manstress). The intensity and the close relationship between a gigolo and the client can make both of them fall in love, like real love. In this context, the gigolo puts money as its main goal. On the other hand, gigolo realizes that the woman who is his client has a family, so it is impossible to have the love of the woman completely. This research concluded that: (1) The implementation of Max Weber's Theory of Social Action in gigolo social actions is integrated into one action with another, and; (2) Gigolo does not take traditional actions on the actions that have been taken.

Surah al-Taubah Verse 60 mention that there are eight eligible persons to receive Zakat. They are the poor and the needy, amil (those employed to collect zakah), muallaf (those bringing hearts together for Islam), al-riqab (those in captives or slaves), al-gharimin (those in debt), fi sabilillah (those in the cause [way] of Allah) and ibn sabil (the [stranded] traveller). Al-riqab is the fifth from eight eligible persons to receive Zakat. Currently, the provision of zakat to the al-riqab (slave) is allocated into other asnaf as the slave is not existed in Malaysia. However, there are several states such as Selangor, Negeri Sembilan, Terengganu and Melaka have broadened the definition of al-riqab to individuals who wish to come out of the shackles of ignorance and social problems. The individuals are transsexuals, prostitutes and gigolos. However, some of other states rejected the fatwa of these states. This article is aimed to identifying the nature of the transsexuals, prostitutes and gigolos who are included in the al-riqab group. It is also intended to analyze the principles in law enforcement of this group (transsexuals, prostitutes and gigolos) which is categorized as al-riqab. This research uses the document analysis method such as Tafsir books, fiqh of four Sects and journals. Data is analyzed through thematic content analysis. The result shows the transsexuals, prostitutes and gigolos qualified to be considered to receive zakat aid under al-riqab. However, it must be based on the criteria and conditions stipulated by the country. The fatwa is designed to ensure that they are able to get out of the crisis and continue to live in a better life. In addition, it is also intended to ensure the asnaf of zakat in the al-Quran testimonial remains relevant at all times. Therefore, the zakat management in Malaysia should undertake the provision of al-riqab systematically and well organized to avoid any conflicts with Islamic principles. This will be uphold the dignity of the zakat institutions and Islam as a religion of Rahmatan lil Alamin.

Dress can be a reflection of the social world order, which is bound by a tacit set of rules, customs, conventions, and rituals that guide face-to-face interaction as observed in Africa and among people of Igbo descent. Africans are known for their cultural values and norms which their dress codes are significantly recognised in line with their national identity and symbols. The method adopted in this research work is qualitative to dissect these negative attitudinal changes in dressing that have led to increase in promiscuity, less zeal in education, crime and corruption. Findings showed that ‘riot’ in dress code are a reflection of lack of family values and orientations, parental negligence and irresponsibility. From late twentieth century to this twenty first century, there is a twist in the ethics of dressing that have defiled moral values, class, status, religiosity and cultural identity. For instance, before the above mentioned period in any gathering, one can easily differentiate the married from the singles, celebrities from other members of the society, the affluence from the poor, masquerades from human beings, the prostitutes, and gigolos from the decent. Today, there is ‘riot’ in dress code that some people dress like traditional priests and lunatics in the name of fashion or ‘fashion in vogue’. Women, both married and single dress alike which makes it difficult to differentiate the married from the single; this is also applicable to men. The focus of this research work on Igbo of Southeast Nigeria is for effective investigation. Again, Igbo people are adventurers which brings the globe as a village to them be it negative or positive including dressing. People ought to adhere to religious and social differentiations in dress code which recognise regional groups, classes, occupation, majority and minority groups, educational levels, persons of different ages, men and women.

Este artigo objetiva estudar comparativamente as mulheres doromance Lazarilho de Tormes e as do conto “Mon Gigolô”, de MarcosRey. Observa-se, nessas duas narrativas, que as representações femininasapresentam um comportamento regido pela deusa grega Deméter, que secaracteriza por defender, alimentar e proteger os homens. Portanto, aspersonagens femininas dos textos ficcionais mencionados assumem umcomportamento maternal em relação aos homens com os quais entramem contato em seus respectivos contextos ficcionais.

Em Algaravias: câmara de ecos, Waly Salomão problematiza a rede de questões que emergiram da transformação do campo literário durante o processo de democratização e globalização daquele ainda recente final de século. Desde os “works in process” da década de 1970 (Me segura que eu vou dar um troço e os incríveis Babilaques) e a sua retomada na década seguinte (Gigolô de bibelôs e Armarinho de miudezas), constituiu a sua poética com um amálgama de ato, objeto e texto

O presente artigo tem por objetivo apresentar uma análise do personagem principal Mariano do romance Memórias de um Gigolô (2011), de Marcos Rey, na perspectiva de construção (evolução) do personagem neopícaro, ou malandro, no decorrer do enredo. Para tal, serão usadas como fundamentação teórica os estudos de Roberto DaMatta (1997), González (1994), Candido (2004) e Botoso (2010). Os estudos acerca do personagem neopícaro muitas vezes perpetuados em textos canônicos como Memórias de um Sargento de Milícias, de Manuel Antônio de Almeida e Macunaíma, de M|rio de Andrade nos fazem refletir sobre a “fertilidade” dessa tipologia em terreno brasileiro. Nesse sentido, encontramo-nos frente ao icônico personagem malandro dos anos trinta, Mariano, da obra Memórias de um Gigolô (2011). Inicialmente, apresentaremos o personagem pícaro e a sua evolução até chegar a neopícaros e suas características, tais como a malandragem, a roupa, aversão ao trabalho e a vida boemia por meio da trapaça e do uso de ferramentas como a inteligência e a astúcia. Em seguida, apresentaremos o enredo e o processo de construção, na perspectiva evolutiva, do personagem neopicaresco Mariano, correlacionando-o com o espaço e a formação da malandragem favorecida pelo convívio desse personagem em ambientes como bordéis, casas noturnas e pensões, fatores que o levam a se tornar um malandro típico da sociedade paulistana da década de 1930.

Considerando o papel formador da canção popular na poética de Waly Salomão, este artigo analisa as operações intermidiáticas de transposição e referência em Gigolô de Bibelôs, de 1983. Para tanto, toma-se como base a seção dedicada às letras de música nesse volume, com ênfase nos procedimentos de transposição da canção para a mídia verbal escrita. Em seguida, ressaltam-se intertextualidades com a canção popular brasileira, tanto em sua poesia quanto em suas letras de música. Desse modo, demonstra-se a centralidade da canção e as artimanhas poéticas e editoriais que Salomão lança mão para aproximar canção popular e poesia.

poeta Waly Salomão (1943-2003) manteve, sabidamente, forte ligação com o que há de mais essencial do pensamento trágico nietzschiano. Poeta de múltiplas polinizações e linguagens, além de demolidor incansável de fronteiras, Waly adorava baralhar antigas categorias estéticas. Impulsionada por “câmara de ecos e algaravias”, sua poesia transitou por vários léxicos como se estivesse palmilhando diferentes estratégias de fundir a escrita com a plasticidade da vida, e vice-versa. Portadora de um “espírito dionisíaco”, sua produção mescla metáforas, sentenças, parábolas, chistes, aforismos e não cede espaço para nenhuma verdade dogmática. Ao contrário. Afeito ao pensamento enviesado, de cunho antimetafísico, Salomão sempre foi um poeta entusiasmado pela ultilinguagem e combateu ferozmente a monotonia do cânone. “Amante da algazarra e gigolô de bibelôs”, sua obra demonstra ser, a um só tempo, repulsa do espírito fatigado e paixão incondicional pela alegria.Palavras-chave: Waly Salomão. Nietzsche. Alegria. Trágico.

This research departed from three questions. The first, how does the practice of marriage friend for careers women in Surabaya? The second, why the practice of marriage friend for careers women in Surabaya? The third, how about Islamic law seen marriage friend practices for careers women in Surabaya? In order to answer the questions above, researcher conducted a qualitativer research using cass aproach. The necessary data of this study was collected by interview, observation, and revier of documentation. In order to articulate construction of careers women in Surabaya, whhich has collected data were analyzed using an inductive method. The results of this study indicate that there are two models of friend marriage in Surabaya. First, they practice friend marriage by looking for potential husbands through friends or the mass media and looking for religious leaders who can marry them. In this marriage the woman frees her husband from all obligations. Second, they chose the practice of marrying friends by finding their own husband and after finding them married at a distant or foreign place and usually this marriage ended after having a child. There are two reasons that Surabaya socialite women choose the practice of marrying a friend. First, the reason for the manivest is where they conduct this friend's marriage to free husbands from all obligations. Second, the latent reason, where they do this friend's marriage solely to seek biological satisfaction. Jurisprudence scholars disagree in addressing the practice of friendship in Surabaya. Some allow it because they see the terms of the marriage pillar have been fulfilled. There are those who forbid this friend's marriage model, this is because of the motivation caused by this friend's practice. According to them, this friend's marriage model is no different from gigolo rental practices.

As a genre, science fiction deals with possible futures, imagining places and technologies that typically do not exist in audiences’ own lives. Science fiction film takes this directive a step further by creating visual representations of these futures and possibilities, presenting audiences with imagined ideas of what new technologies or unfamiliar places might look like. Thus, although any science fiction text can describe sociocultural and technological futures, science fiction film goes a step further by providing images that viewers do not have to envision for themselves. This difference can enable science fiction films to deliver even more incisive stories and commentaries on futuristic technologies as “sociotechnical assemblages” (Gillespie 18) – that is, as machines whose possibilities stem from humans’ interactions with them as much as from the technologies themselves.Marquard Smith and Joanne Morra maintain that today’s society is already interested in a real-world version of sociotechnologies: they call this interest the “prosthetic impulse” (4). For Smith and Morra, the prosthetic impulse can denote either “ways that the body and technology come into contact with one another” (4) or else any exploration of boundaries between technoculture and “the body, its histories, and its mutability” (6). However, Smith and Morra also warn that the prosthetic impulse often creates unreasonable expectations of what technology can accomplish: a prosthetic can “assume an epic status that is out of proportion with its abilities to fulfill our ambitions for it” (Smith and Morra 2), and the drive to “enhance” human bodies’ capabilities can signify beliefs that abled bodies are the standard, desirable norm (S. Smith).Science fiction films in turn often pick up on real-world ideas such as Smith and Morra’s prosthetic impulse as new ways of visualizing possible futures. Knowledgeable fans could undoubtedly list several examples of prosthetics in favorite sci-fi movies, including those donned by Star Wars’ Luke Skywalker, Star Trek’s Borg collective, Mad Max: Fury Road’s Imperator Furiosa, and many more. However, these films can also heighten the prosthetic’s immoderately “epic status” (Smith and Morra 2) and result in “our fantasies for technological possibility [being] played out across depictions of impairment” (Hung par. 10). In science fiction film, then, the prosthetic impulse can strongly reinforce problematic assumptions about what human beings “need” to have added, augmented, or replaced in order to function according to subjective norms.Steven Spielberg’s 2001 film A.I. Artificial Intelligence, though, expands the implications of the prosthetic impulse even further by broadening the types of bodies, losses, and functions that we imagine prosthetics can address. Set in a dystopian future where human-driven climate change has decimated the environment, world governments have instituted mandatory birth control, and socioeconomic stratification has skyrocketed, A.I. Artificial Intelligence speaks directly to Vivian Carol Sobchack’s 2006 concern that “theoretical use of the prosthetic metaphor tends to transfer agency [from] human actors to human artifacts” (23), though it does so in a novel way.The film’s human characters, or “human actors” to use Sobchack’s term, expend their creativity and resources not to address the issues of environmental catastrophe, starvation, and class warfare that humans themselves have created: instead, they turn to manufacturing advanced robots, or “mechas”, that are literally “human artifacts” (Sobchack 23) created to help humanity avoid the debilitating consequences of its own destructive actions. As a result, the film’s mecha characters, seen most clearly in the “child-substitute mecha” David and the mecha prostitute Gigolo Joe, are positioned as prosthetic humans intended to fill social roles and functions that human beings themselves are incapable of fully satisfying.The Prosthetic HumanEven though it offers a new angle to this concept, A.I. Artificial Intelligence is hardly the only science fiction film concerned with some configuration of the prosthetic impulse. In fact, several other science fiction films incorporate one of three other versions, each building up to more and more complex possibilities before we reach the prosthetic human as envisioned in A.I.The first – and arguably most common – treatment of the prosthetic impulse in science fiction film is found in the partial prosthetic, where technology is depicted as replacing or repairing one visible part of the perceptible bodily whole. Common versions of the partial prosthetic include replacements for limbs or even certain organs, with examples such as Luke Skywalker’s prosthetic hand in Star Wars, the techno-organic Borg collective in Star Trek: The Next Generation, Bucky Barnes’s metal arm in Captain America: The Winter Soldier and other Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) films, and Furiosa’s metal arm in Mad Max: Fury Road. The partial prosthetic in science fiction film is the most analogous to real-world prosthetics, despite problematic conflations created by this comparison (S. Smith), and the partial prosthetic is also the one that Mailee Hung is describing when she maintains that in science fiction film “it is technological, or even technophilic, fantasy that is being explored rather than the spectrum of human ability” (par. 11).A second treatment of the prosthetic impulse in science fiction film is visible in the full-body prosthetic, which denotes a technology that completely encloses or envelops the human body. Anne McCaffrey offers an early example of this type with her “Ship Who Sang” series (1961–1969), where “brainships” are created when children with severe physical disabilities but above-average brains can be rescued from euthanasia by having their minds linked with spaceships. Thankfully, later science fiction narratives tend to avoid most of the eugenicist and ableist overtones plaguing McCaffrey’s work. Science fiction films also offer examples of full-body prosthetics that can be departed or disengaged from at will, and these prosthetics may be used to enhance an abled body rather than housing a disabled one. Examples of full-body prosthetics in science fiction film include the boxing robots of Real Steel (2011), the Jaegers of Pacific Rim (2013) and Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), the genetically-engineered alien bodies operated by remote human pilots in James Cameron’s Avatar (2009), and the police robot MOOSE in Chappie (2015), among others. In these cases, the full-body prosthetic is a technological entity that must be interfaced with by a human consciousness – and sometimes the whole human body – in order to perform some function that the human body alone cannot accomplish.A third way of depicting the prosthetic impulse in science fiction film can be found in what Victor Grech calls Pinocchio Syndrome, or a “reverse prosthetic impulse” (265). Here technological, non-human characters “desire to become human” (Grech 263) and often attempt to gain humanity in the form of a human body, “its histories, and its mutability” (Smith and Morra 6) that will replace their own mechanical components. Examples of this third type include Data of Star Trek: The Next Generation (1987–1994 television, 1994–2002 films) and NDR-113/Andrew of the novelette “Bicentennial Man” (1967), the novel Positronic Man (1992), and the film Bicentennial Man (1999). Data is an android, and Andrew is a service robot, who both explore what it would mean to “be” human and actively pursue different means of achieving humanness – Data through human emotions and NDR-113/Andrew through a fully human body.All three of these science fiction versions – the partial prosthetic, the full prosthetic, and the reverse prosthetic impulse or Pinocchio Syndrome – tend to reinforce Smith and Morra’s warning that the prosthetic, both as an aid and as a technology, can “assume an epic status that is out of proportion with its abilities to fulfill our ambitions for it” (2). Put differently, just because these technologies exist within the films’ storyworlds does not mean that they can fix the characters’ or even the worlds’ problems, and the plots of many science fiction films actually stem from these assumptions.Of these three versions, Grech’s “reverse prosthetic impulse” (265) might initially seem the most applicable to A.I. Artificial Intelligence, particularly because most of the film follows David’s quest to find the Blue Fairy of the Pinocchio tale and petition her to make him “a real boy” (A.I. Artificial Intelligence). However, even Grech’s term does not fully cover what Spielberg’s film is attempting through its characters and its setting. Unlike robot characters who embody Grech’s reverse prosthetic impulse, David is not attempting to “become” human: instead, he articulates his struggle as the desire to “become real”, which prioritizes not humanness via a human body but instead David’s self-perceived ability to better fulfill a particular role within a nuclear family. Moreover, unlike the ways in which Data and NDR-113/Andrew fulfill primarily career-adjacent roles in their respective storyworlds – Data as a ship’s officer, NDR-113/Andrew initially as a caretaker and butler – A.I. Artificial Intelligence depicts a world in which mechas are both an “essential” form of labor in a decimated global economy, but can also be constructed to fill specifically social roles such as child or lover. Where robots like Data and NDR-113/Andrew enact a reverse prosthetic impulse in their yearning to “become” human (Grech 263), thus treating humanness and the human body as prosthetics to technology, David as a “child-substitute mecha” and Gigolo Joe as a “lover robot” (A.I. Artificial Intelligence) are more like prosthetic humans.In A.I. Artificial Intelligence, humans attempt to replace, enhance, or augment specific interpersonal relationships using “human artifacts” that function like Sobchack’s “human actors” – only, better than those human actors ever could be. David is continually described as a child who demonstrates unconditional love but never loses his temper, catches ill, or grows older; Gigolo Joe describes mecha prostitutes like himself as “the guiltless pleasures of the lonely human being” (A.I. Artificial Intelligence) and promises that they will never get pregnant, clingy, or tired of sex. Because David is a “toy boy” and Gigolo Joe is a “boy toy” (Sobchack 2) – both meant to enhance different types of human relationships without the inconveniences that a human actor would bring into the picture – A.I. Artificial Intelligence is also imagining sociocultural structures like the nuclear family or the heterosexual romantic relationship as the wholes, the social bodies, that the prosthetic human will supposedly repair. Here the prosthetic impulse becomes human beings’ drive to use reparative technologies to replace other human beings entirely, rather than simply parts or functions of the human body.David as Prosthetic HumanDavid’s role as a prosthetic human meant to repair or augment human relationships is made clear even before the character himself first appears onscreen. Instead, the film’s initial scene follows Professor Allen Hobby, the scientist who leads the team that later creates David, as he pitches a new mecha of “a qualitatively different order” to a skeptical audience (A.I. Artificial Intelligence). Hobby contends that his new robot will be capable of love “like a child for its parents” instead of the “sensuality simulators” already available (A.I. Artificial Intelligence), and moreover, that this kind of love “will be the key by which they [mechas] acquire a kind of sub-consciousness never before achieved. An inner world of metaphor, of intuition, of self-motivated reasoning, of dreams” (A.I. Artificial Intelligence). However, these plans are quickly challenged by a female scientist who poses a moral question: “Isn’t the real conundrum [whether] you can get a human to love them back?” (A.I. Artificial Intelligence). Hobby then cycles through three responses to his peer’s question, all of which point to the ways in which David is positioned as a prosthetic human.First, Hobby stresses that this new mecha will be “a perfect child caught in a freeze-frame: always loving, never ill, never changing” (A.I. Artificial Intelligence). His claim implies that families want or need a perfect child, and also that childhood perfection entails unwavering physical health, a permanently positive attitude, and unshakeable devotion to the parent(s) – all features that a real human child, as Sobchack’s “human actor”, cannot provide. Then too, Hobby’s claim that David is a child caught in “freeze-frame” perfection also hints that, as a form of technology, a prosthetic human supersedes many of a biological human’s limitations: just moments later, for example, the film’s audience learns that David’s adoptive family the Swintons have a young son, Martin, who has been placed in a cryogenic chamber until his terminal illness can be treated. For David, being “caught in a freeze-frame” of eternal and “perfect” childhood is beneficial to the Swintons, who will then experience his love and participation in their family unit forever – unlike Martin, who when similarly “frozen” cannot express or reciprocate familial affection at all, and so has been superseded by David.Hobby’s second response to the female scientist’s moral question is to assert that David, as a “child-substitute mecha” (A.I. Artificial Intelligence), will answer both a market need and a human one: because world governments issue a limited number of pregnancy licenses, Hobby argues, mechas like David may become many families’ only way of having children. Here, the family unit is imagined as incomplete without offspring, to the extent that there is a species-wide “human need” for children (A.I. Artificial Intelligence) even though global catastrophes such as climate change and mass starvation are unavoidable threats to real children’s future welfare. To this end, Hobby positions a “child-substitute mecha” like David as a prosthetic for the family unit, filling in for children without taking up any of the resources needed to raise an actual member of the population who will then face and inherit unfixable global issues. Moreover, toward the end of A.I. audiences also learn that David was created to look like Hobby’s own dead son, meaning that this entire line of child-substitute mechas has stemmed from Hobby’s own grief – and perhaps his need of a prosthetic to repair it.Finally, Hobby’s last response to his peer’s challenge is to ask: “In the beginning, didn’t God create Adam to love him?” (A.I. Artificial Intelligence). This rhetorical question reiterates how Hobby built David, reminding Hobby’s challenger – and by extension the film’s audience – that human actors are technology’s creators. The question’s rhetorical nature also implies that a creator’s status translates to their right to use such created technologies however they choose – regardless of the potential harm to either the prosthetic human or the "real" humans around them.Thus, although most of A.I. Artificial Intelligence does follow David’s journey to become “real”, it is important to realize that this quest actually stems from his being a prosthetic human rather than just Pinocchio Syndrome or a “reverse prosthetic impulse” (Grech 265). The very features of unconditional love, eternal innocence, and unchanging health that initially made David so attractive to the grieving Swintons are the same attributes that later lead to the family’s hostility when Martin does recover, and David is eventually abandoned in the woods – the prosthetic human child ousted for the “real” human child he was intended to replace. David’s longing to become “a real boy” so that Monica Swinton will return his love and welcome him home stems from his realization that he was always just a “technological substitution” (Hung par. 9) for Martin, and because of this, David’s desire to “become real” is better understood as him seeking to become a true part of the whole nuclear family instead of remaining a replacement or attachment to it. Rather than just “desire to become human” (Grech 263), David seeks to move from being a “human artifact” to becoming a “human actor” (Sobchack 23).Gigolo Joe as Prosthetic HumanWhile Gigolo Joe also serves as a prosthetic human in A.I. Artificial Intelligence, he does so in different ways than David. As a “child-substitute mecha”, David was created for intentionally prosthetic ends: even though he “can never be anything more than an approximate substitute” (Rosenbaum 74), he was still made specifically to repair or complete family units like the Swintons, rendering them “whole” by taking the place of an unavailable human child. As a mecha prostitute, though, Gigolo Joe was not created with prosthetic ends in mind: he was made to augment or supplement sexual experiences on a temporary basis, not to replace a long-term human partner or to make a sexual or romantic relationship whole by his presence within it. Also in obvious contrast to David, Gigolo Joe addresses sexual appetite rather than a need for filial love, provides short-term pleasure instead of a long-term connection, and is never intended to be seen by the film’s human characters as a human man instead of a male-shaped mecha. These are crucial differences between the two mechas’ purposes, functions, and target audiences, and Sobchack sums up this disparity by describing David and Gigolo Joe as two different types of “love machines” that remain “[s]uspended between an ironic Kubrickian critique of technological man and his Spielbergian redemption” (12–13).However, these differences between David and Gigolo Joe also translate into their being different kinds of prosthetic human. Where David was created to be a prosthetic human in the context of a childless family, replacing a needed member in order to make that family whole, Gigolo Joe takes the initiative to position himself as a prosthetic human, substituting the technology of his mecha body for the various physiological and/or emotional shortcomings of absent human sexual partners. Then too, where David rejects and attempts to outstrip his status as a “technological substitution” (Hung par. 9) for a human being, Gigolo Joe seems to exult in his part as substitute for human being.Audiences are shown this difference immediately. Where David is introduced through descriptions by Hobby, the scientist who created him and knows exactly what he wants David to accomplish, Gigolo Joe is introduced in person, alongside a nervous young woman who has apparently solicited him for sex. This unnamed woman admits that she has never had sex with a mecha before, and Gigolo Joe quickly discovers bruises from physical abuse by a human partner. In implied contrast to this unseen human partner, Gigolo Joe remains quiet, respectful, and gentle as he navigates the young woman’s communication of her fears and desires: he also assures her first that “once you’ve had a lover robot, you’ll never want a real man again” and then that “you are a goddess ... [and] you deserve much better in your life. You deserve me” (A.I. Artificial Intelligence). Both implicitly and explicitly, then, Gigolo Joe promises to provide his client with sexual and pseudo-romantic fulfillment: Sobchack frames this appeal as Gigolo Joe's ability to "satisfy every female sexual need and desire (including the illusion of romance) without wearing out” (5). But Gigolo Joe can only accomplish all of this because he is a perceptible, self-aware substitution for a human man – and a substitution that does not replicate the intentions and behaviors of his clients' "real" human partners.Gigolo Joe returns frequently to this idea that substitution is positive. Later, for instance, he explains to several fascinated teenage boys that mecha prostitutes “are the guiltless pleasures of the lonely human being. You’re not going to get us pregnant or have us to supper with Mommy and Daddy” (A.I. Artificial Intelligence), emphasizing that humans do not need to fulfill any social obligations toward mechas precisely because they are not “real” lovers. Gigolo Joe also pitches mecha sex workers by reminding his listeners that “We work under you, we work on you, and we work for you. Man made us better at what we do than was ever humanly possible” (A.I. Artificial Intelligence), suggesting that a substitute sexual partner will offer technological advantages over their human counterparts.Through dialogues and exchanges such as these, Gigolo Joe positions himself as a prosthetic human, acknowledging that he and his sex worker peers were not really meant to “repair” or “complete” human relationships even as he also maintains that mechas do replace human partners in important ways, even if temporarily. However, Gigolo Joe also recognizes the realities of being a prosthetic human in ways that David seems incapable of. For instance, when one of his clients is murdered by her human partner for seeking a replacement lover, Gigolo Joe realizes immediately that the man won’t even be suspected while Gigolo Joe himself automatically takes the blame. Similarly, Gigolo Joe is the one who can tell David that Monica Swinton “loves what you do for her, as my customers love what it is I do for them. But she does not love you. . . You were designed and built specific like the rest of us” (A.I. Artificial Intelligence). David rejects this warning, demonstrating that his creation as a prosthetic human has made him impervious to that same reality, but Gigolo Joe’s positioning himself as a prosthetic human has made him aware that being “designed and built specific” to meet humans’ needs does not negate the dangers that come along with a designed, perfected form of substitution.Prosthetic Humans and the End of HumanityThe ending of AI: Artificial Intelligence has baffled critics and audiences alike since its theatrical release. Are the alien-like Specialists real, or does David imagine these beings as a means of explaining away Hobby’s entire line of child-substitute mechas? Does David actually see Monica again, or is this the robotic equivalent of a comforting dream before he dies? Frances Flannery-Dailey outlines nine possible ways of understanding how the film ends before noting that its ambiguity and length often frustrate audiences, leaving them with a negative impression of the film.No matter which way we try to explain the ending of A.I. Artificial Intelligence, though, it is worth noting the presence of the Specialists, who claim that they are advanced beings that evolved from mechas following humanity’s extinction. Though Flannery-Daily correctly questions whether the Specialists actually exist or else are just dream-specters of David's “death”, their presence at the end of the film suggests at least the possibility of a distant future in which the prosthetic human has completely overtaken and supplanted the “real” humans that David so wanted to join. This potential ending, as well as David’s and Gigolo Joe’s poor treatment by "real" humans throughout the film, all demonstrate that the prosthetic humans in A.I. Artificial Intelligence suffer from more than the “epic status” that Smith and Morra assign to real-world prosthetics (2), or even the shortcomings visible in other versions of the prosthetic impulse as depicted in science fiction films. Instead, A.I. Artificial Intelligence becomes bleak when we realize that these prosthetic humans actually function very well, even when (wrongly) touted as miracle technologies (Smith and Morra 2), and that instead it is humans, their needs, and their visions that have fallen sadly short. Both David and Gigolo Joe do exactly what they were "designed and built specific” to do (A.I. Artificial Intelligence) and more, yet humanity has destroyed both them and itself by the end of the film regardless.ReferencesA.I. Artificial Intelligence. Dir. Steven Spielberg. Warner Bros. Pictures, 2001. Flannery-Dailey, Frances. "Robot Heavens and Robot Dreams: Ultimate Reality in A.I. and Other Recent Films." Journal of Religion & Film 7.2 (2016). 1 July 2019 <https://digitalcommons.unomaha.edu/jrf/vol7/iss2/7>.Gillespie, Tarleton. Custodians of the Internet: Platforms, Content Moderation, and the Hidden Decisions That Shape Social Media. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2018.Grech, Victor. "The Pinocchio Syndrome and the Prosthetic Impulse." Intelligence Unbound: The Future of Uploaded and Machine Minds. Eds. Russel Blackford and Damien Broderick. Malden: Wiley Blackwell, 2014. 263–278.Hung, Mailee. “We Are More than Our Machines.” Bitch Media (24 Aug. 2017). 2 July 2019 <https://www.bitchmedia.org/article/more-our-machines/aesthetics-and-prosthetics-science-fiction>.Rosenbaum, Jonathan. "A Matter of Life and Death: A.I. Artificial Intelligence (Directed by Steven Spielberg)." Film Quarterly 65.3 (2012): 74-78.Smith, Susan. "‘Limbitless Solutions’: The Prosthetic Arm, Iron Man and the Science Fiction of Technoscience." Medical Humanities 42.4 (2016): 259–264.Smith, Marquard, and Joanne Morra. “Introduction.” The Prosthetic Impulse: From a Posthuman Present to a Biocultural Future. Eds. Marquard Smith and Joanne Morra. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2006. 1–15. Sobchack, Vivian. “A Leg to Stand On: Prosthetics, Metaphor, and Materiality.” The Prosthetic Impulse: From a Posthuman Present to a Biocultural Future. Eds. Marquard Smith and Joanne Morra. Cambridge: The MIT Press, 2006. 17–42.Sobchack, Vivian Carol. "Love Machines: Boy Toys, Toy Boys and the Oxymorons of A.I.: Artificial Intelligence." Science Fiction Film and Television 1.1 (2009): 1–13.

Resumo Por meio do corpo, o sexo pode ser lugar de ganho e de negócio, o que o configura em uma dimensão mercadológica e em espaço de circulação do desejo. Nesse sentido, o objetivo deste trabalho é analisar as representações ficcionais do corpo-prostituto em carreira do personagem Benício (garoto de programa, gigolô) e as relações estabelecidas entre ele e os clientes homossexuais no romance As flores do jardim da nossa casa (2007), de Marco Lacerda. Para tanto, nosso aporte teórico-crítico buscou uma aproximação e interlocução entre estudos literários e culturais. As análises empreendidas permitiram-nos asseverar que há: um processo generificado no/do negócio do sexo por meio da monetização da masculinidade hegemônica; a explicitação de problemáticas sociais na instância da saúde pública pela vulnerabilidade de contaminação às infecções sexualmente transmissíveis/HIV/aids; e a ocorrência de relações e jogos de poder entre os sujeitos coparticipantes do mercado do sexo evidenciados por tensões e cruzamentos etário (jovem/velho), somático (padrões de corporeidade hegemônica/corpos abjetos) e socioeconômico (classes sociais díspares).

This article is a brief attempt to outline some of the difficulties involved in reconciling a film like Enemy of the State to itself. Perhaps a short synopsis: Will Smith plays a lawyer who unexpectedly encounters an old acquaintance who passes him something before being murdered. The acquaintance had become privy to a conspiracy involving members of the NSA who are responsible for the death of a politician. The politician was obstructing the passage of a new surveillance Bill, and the conspiracy is one of expanding the possibilities of invasive surveillance by the state, or at least rogue elements of the state. The conspirators work at watching and hounding Will Smith until they can retrieve the information. Jon Voight plays the lead conspirator. What this synopsis didn't mention is that Gene Hackman plays a reclusive, grouchy ex-NSA agent and surveillance expert. What the film doesn't mention is that he has done this before, in Francis Ford Coppola's early 1970s film The Conversation. Hackman's character in the earlier film has been described as "a private and suspicious man who lives with as little traceable human reference as possible, as if fearful of the threat of surveillance" (Thomson, America 185). Such a description is entirely applicable to his character in Enemy of the State. It is worth comparing certain aspects of these films not as simply an exercise in critical or textual analysis, but because the differences are illustrative of some key points pertaining to contemporary Hollywood film culture. One such point is that Enemy of the State can throw into relief the fraught relationship between special effects and the technologies of surveillance, a relation even more fraught for its visibility in an action film with a very large budget. The film of Tom Clancy's novel, Patriot Games, starred Harrison Ford as Jack Ryan. There is a sequence in that film that illustrates some of the binds in which Hollywood films can find themselves when they attempt to moralise about the invasive potential of image technologies. A live satellite feed has been arranged for American intelligence viewing of a raid on a suspected terrorist training camp. Low resolution, high angle pictures are recorded and relayed to the American audience of commando units acting on the intelligence analysis (image analysis) of that same audience. The data dies live to air. Ford's Jack Ryan is drawn into watching the fruits of his previous scrutiny. He is eventually disgusted by the armchair quarterbacking of the other viewers and turns away from the images. Not before we, the viewers have had enough time to recognise what we have seen and perhaps reacted to the "gee whiz" potential of that coupling of new image and new image technology. Ryan's disgust is actually a little intrusive on our appreciation. But there is enough of Indiana Jones in Jack Ryan for us to be convinced he truly believes in the integrity of acting at first-hand rather than at an inter-continental remove. Harrison Ford's character in Coppola's The Conversation has no adventurer's taint. More like one of the replicants in Blade Runner, with a liberal dose of Richard Gere's pretty poise in American Gigolo. Ford is genuinely bland and genuinely menacing under Coppola's direction in The Conversation. That film, made almost as a penitential act after The Godfather1, confines its special effects budget almost entirely to the soundtrack. Sounds, and their editing, are much of the surveillance of the film. Gene Hackman plays Harry Caul, "the best bugger on the West Coast", a surveillance expert for hire, with a somewhat shadowy background of bugs half-legend. Part of that background concerns a triple murder where information he provided to a client caused the deaths of three people. Caul is haunted by the chance of that happening again. Hired to bug a couple conversing in a crowded square, Caul and his people take photos and record a conversation that he subsequently edits into audibility. Increasingly afraid that the infidelity his surveillance uncovered will cause the deaths of the couple involved, Harry attempts to prevent the transfer of the data. His attempts are for nothing, as it turns out the couple murder the corporate executive husband of the overheard woman, Caul himself is under their surveillance, or perhaps just the surveillance of corporate underling Harrison Ford. Caul demolishes his apartment at the end of the film, fruitlessly trying to find the bugs. Enemy of the State's most basic problem is the casting in the male lead role of Will Smith. This is a film about paranoia, and release publicity deployed paranoiac pop culture jokes of some staleness such as "You're not paranoid if they really are out to get you". The male lead is scripted as the site at which real anxieties about intrusive levels of government surveillance are to be deployed and made visible. Will Smith, with Independence Day and Men in Black recently behind him, does not function in such a register. It is the persona of the comedian that lingers (and is cultivated by directors and producers) over Smith as an actor, a persona in part defined by the desire for attention, the wish for surveillance. At some level, the film is Smith's wish-fulfilment of more attention than he can handle -- except that he does handle it. Think of how different the entire film would have been with Denzel Washington as the lead, or Spike Lee. The fact is that conspiracies have become one of the great comforts of Western popular culture. The security of knowing that in spite of visible chaos someone out there knows what is really going on. The vogue for conspiracy is a nostalgia for metanarratives. In Enemy the conspirators are rogue elements of the State. What has been displaced is the entirely more edgy prospect suggested by Coppola's film, in which corporations commission acts of surveillance, or elements within corporations spy on each other. Rogues within rogues. Enemy, on the other hand, gives us the individual, the family man, in a desperate battle against the massed resources of the State. But this is not all there is to see or say. For me, perhaps the most interesting aspect of Enemy of the State is the relation between the special effects of the film and the invasive technologies of surveillance whose misuse the film is critiquing. This is not the time to address the issue of the varying aesthetics of special effects, save to note that there certainly are a range of aesthetic criteria on which spectator judgments about effects "quality" are made. At least one of these criteria is that special effects should visualise the new. Related to this is that they should provide new visual experiences2. Enemy has as its new visual experience the expanded resources of contemporary satellite surveillance technologies, along with various miniaturised surveillance devices. The only "conventional" big special effect is a building exploding. The rest of the film is engaged with using surveillance footage as special effects, in on-screen chases and pursuits. The crucial problem on which the film founders is that in generating viewing pleasure from the invasive application of these technologies, a double marking of the technology as special effect and the technology as invasive is made available to the viewer. The pleasure and the object of criticism share the same sign. The result is a vacillation. The screen jockeys in the film, childishly willing accomplices of Jon Voight and the rogue State, taking the pleasure of "cool" from a new image, are the viewers of the film, taking pleasure in a cool special effect. The attempts to render those spectators morally culpable for the plots of the film are, not surprisingly, shallow. To me, this film functions as a sort of limit case for special effects. It is as if the distance between effect and subject has been allowed to shrink a little too far, leading to a sort of collapse. As a note in closing, I would like to suggest that in the genre of the Hollywood action film, perhaps the only close relative of Enemy of the State is the "failed Arnie", Last Action Hero. Whereas that film deployed reflexivity about special effects and entertainment and hence to some degree trivialised the pleasures of its audience, it similarly marks a problematic convergence of special effects technology and spectators' acceptance of the moral consequences of vision. Footnotes David Thomson has written that: The Conversation has the reputation of being the intense chamber work of a director otherwise employed on large movies where spectacle takes precedence over private themes. The modesty of scale, after The Godfather, is regarded as a token of gravity. It was made clear as the picture opened that Coppola had used some of his own profits from the big movies to make this study in intimate anxiety. In sanctioning that gloss, Coppola appeared to be grappling with the demands of the industry and the inner responsibilities of the artist. The film is therefore a parable about talent, private satisfaction, and public duty. But it is the most despairing and horrified film Coppola has made. (Thomson, Overexposures 298) The first does not necessitate the second. It is entirely possible to visualise the new in such conventional fashion that it is meaningless to consider such to be a "new visual experience". References Thomson, David. America in the Dark: Hollywood and the Gift of Unreality. New York: William Morrow, 1975. Thomson, David. Overexposures: The Crisis in American Filmmaking. New York: William Morrow, 1981. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Paul Starr. "Special Effects and the Invasive Camera: Enemy of the State and The Conversation." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.2 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9903/enemy.php>. Chicago style: Paul Starr, "Special Effects and the Invasive Camera: Enemy of the State and The Conversation," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 2 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9903/enemy.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Paul Starr. (1999) Special effects and the invasive camera: Enemy of the State and The Conversation. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(2). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9903/enemy.php> ([your date of access]).

1997 was a bad year for celebrities. Deng Xiao Ping and Mother Teresa died of old age, Gianni Versace was shot, Princess Diana killed in a car accident, John Denver's plane crashed, Michael Hutchence hung himself and Sonny Bono died in a skiing accident. In each case, the essence of the news story is the extinguishment of life and the consequent extinction of the body. So-called journalism ethics usually prevent photographs of dead bodies (especially when mutilated). However, recently we saw, on the front page of The Courier-Mail, an unnamed Albanian lying in a pool of blood with a clear bullet wound in his head; the lack of photographs of dead celebrities' bodies is therefore political as much as it is influenced by the editors' sense of propriety. Live celebrities fulfil a particular function; what, then, are their bodies made to do in death? I. Versace / Cunanan Gianni Versace was shot on the front steps of his Miami mansion in July 1997, after a morning walk to the local cafe for magazines and coffee. He received two bullets in the head and was pronounced dead on arrival at the local hospital. Ten stories in four magazines carried only two small photographs of paramedics attending Versace on a gurney, despite its obvious newsworthiness. Live Versace is surprisingly absent from the accompanying photographs, where he appears alone, with celebrities or with family (including his lover) just 15 times in 68 photographs. Intriguingly, Versace's body is similarly expunged from the texts. The word 'body' itself also only appears twice in relation to Versace; only one report mentions his cremation and his ashes' return to Italy. Versace's blood, spilling down the steps, appeared much more frequently (textual references plus photos: n=15). Most magazines reported a fan who tore Versace ads from a magazine and sopped them in the designer's blood, but there are no photos of this bizarre act. At no point does any article actually describe Versace as homosexual, although most note that when he was ill in 1996, the press assumed he had HIV/AIDS (in fact, it was cancer). His lover, D'Amico, only appears twice and is only once referred to as such; elsewhere he is a 'companion', 'life partner' and even 'significant other'. What Versace did have, frequently discussed in safe monetary terms, was his business -- a respectable living entity accessible through, importantly, the discourse of family. Anxiety about the continued survival of the eponymous body corporate partially covers the extinction of Versace's fleshly body. So where is Versace's body? The photograph tally gives us an important clue: his alleged murderer, Andrew Cunanan, appears in more photographs (n=16) than the celebrity victim. Importantly, although they supposedly met at an opera, any link between Versace and Cunanan is implied only by the proximity of descriptions of their respective lives. Some texts explicitly suggest the opposite (Time 32): "yet Versace in mid-life, it turns out, was a tempered bon-vivant, a high-glitz homebody. He remarked, 'You can go to a restaurant if you want, but things are always better at home.'" Cunanan's perverse body permeates the texts, too. All stories decribed his career as a "worthy companion" to older, wealthy gay men; all mention his mother's incorrect claim that he was a prostitute. There were 29 references to his preference for "kinky sex" and bondage gear found in his apartment and 41 to a mythical "gay lifestyle" (including references to the "gay scene", "gay bars", "gay hangouts", his alleged work as a gigolo and so on). A suggestion that he might have been HIV-positive (later disproved) also occurred repeatedly. New Weekly devoted its coverage entirely to Cunanan, purporting (however inaccurately) to explain "the lust for fame and rich men that perverted" him (cover); it alone asserted Cunanan had worked as a transsexual prostitute. Increasing Cunanan's apparent perversion were repeated stories that he did this to support a wife and child. Cunanan's sexuality is directly associated with his crimes (see also Crowley): variations on the word 'killer' ('assassin', 'murderer', 'gunman') appear as many times as references to 'kinky' sex. Versace, on the other hand, becomes corporeal; he exists in terms of money, his family, and, finally, in terms of death (passive and active variations of that noun appeared 58 times). In life, Versace's (gay) body was transgressive; in death it was mutilated. By leaving the (transgressive, dead) body out altogether, Versace's narrative became a prosocial tale of capitalist success, a handsome, benign family man destroyed by the 'evil' of a perverted gay lifestyle (Crowley). II. Michael Hutchence Michael Hutchence hung himself -- accidentally or deliberately -- on the door-closing mechanism in his hotel room in November 1997. There are, of course, no photographs of his corpse. However, unlike Versace, Hutchence's body is liberally scattered throughout the text. Direct references to it appear 12 times, including three to his "naked body". We are told in every story that Paula spent 20 minutes alone in the Glebe morgue with his "body". References to his sexuality are also prominent, with variations on the theme (for example, "Michael Hutchence was sex on a stick" -- NW 23) appearing 30 times overall. There were articles on "his harem", featuring photographs of various girlfriends over the years, and Yates's description of his as "the Taj Mahal of crotches" appears repeatedly. Evidently, excessive heterosexuality is more acceptable than transgressive sex. This is quite clear from the determined "suicide" narrative. The British tabloids suggested that Hutchence died practicing autoerotic asphyxiation, a not inconceivable claim, given that some 1000 American men die annually of this practice (see Garos) and in light of Hutchence's apparently overwhelming sexuality. Australian magazines, however, only mentioned that possibility three times in 23 articles from 7 magazines. The assumed fact of suicide was mentioned (directly and euphemistically) 30 times. Suicide is apparently more acceptable than autoeroticism, and it certainly "fits" the Hutchence narrative. The only reason offered for Hutchence's apparently perplexing suicide was despair over the enforced separation from his family. Family is overwhelmingly important in the Hutchence narrative. Photographs of him with Paula and their daughter Tiger Lily, or Paula's and Geldof's three daughters, appear 25 times -- more than Hutchence appears alone (n=21). The total number of photographs of Hutchence with other people only amounts to 27, despite his high-profile career and high-profile lovelife for 18 years before he met Yates. Yates is Hutchence's "lover" more often than D'Amico was Versace's, but she was also his "soulmate", his "girlfriend" and, most often, "the mother of his child". Mention of Hutchence's familial role -- 'daughter/s', 'father/hood', 'dad', 'family' and so on -- appear 44 times. (The only comparable frequency is variations on 'death' such as 'died' or 'dead', not including references to suicide.) This, then, is where Hutchence is recuperated -- the excessive sexuality which, unsaid, may well have led to his death -- disappears completely in family life. Live Hutchence was a sexual wildcard; dead Hutchence is a role model of responsible domesticity. III. Mother Teresa Unlike Versace or Hutchence, Mother Teresa's body caused no trouble when it was alive, and, conveniently, wasn't mangled in death. Six of fifteen photos of her were of her dead body, including a close-up enlarged across two A4 pages. Also included are photos of people holding photos of her, which fits Wark's suggestion that re-presentation helps to create godliness (26). (Interestingly, Diana was the only other 1997 death treated the same way, confirming Frow's point that some deaths are qualitatively different and providing a point for further analysis.) There are photographs of people touching Teresa, and this is mentioned in the text (n=6) more times than her dead body itself (n=3). Interestingly, the fact that she died of a heart attack is nearly absent from the accounts (n=2), although her metaphorical heart looms large (n=9). It is the only part of her live body which was narratively significant. One reason that Mother Teresa's dead body is able to be present, in both pictures and photos, is that her flesh did not need to be replaced with pro-social narrative. Instead, her (tiny) body in life did what society wants women's bodies always to do: she was not just Mother Teresa, but a 'mother' to us all (n=8), chaste (n=3), and always described with diminishing adjectives (n=14). There was none of that pesky female sexuality to deal with, though gender was undeniably significant (she was described as "a woman" 11 times), and of course, it is there in her very name (shortened often to Mother, rather than to 'Teresa' -- she was a role, not a person). The only discourse more powerful -- and intimately connected -- is saintliness (n=38). The sexless (selfless), tiny, maternal body can be displayed, in death, as an icon of the good female. IV. Conclusion In their lifetimes, Michael Hutchence and Gianni Versace both displayed transgressive sexual personae, Hutchence's being excessive and Versace's being 'wrong'. In death, the media deals with this, unsurprisingly, by replacing the now absent bodies with a pro-social narrative. This is taking Foucault's proposition that the body is ultimately the site where ideology is practiced to a whole new realm, since ideology was forced to wait till the bodies stopped to reclaim them for its own. It also reinforces the sense that a "free" (live) body is somehow beyond ideology (Hutchence was apparently practicing just this when he died). Soon after Versace, Diana's death prompted stories of why the good die young (Bulletin 23 Sep. 97, 71-2). However, this article shows that, patently, the good live to 87 and those who die young often don't "come good" until they die. References Becker, Karin E. "Photojournalism and the Tabloid Press." Journalism and Popular Culture. Eds. Peter Dahlgren and Colin Sparks. London: Sage, 1993. 130-153. Crowley, Harry. "'Homocidal Homosexual': Media Coverage of the Versace Murder Case." The Advocate 741 (2 Sep. 1997): 24+. Frow, John. "Is Elvis a God? Cult, Culture, Questions of Method." International Journal of Cultural Studies 1.2 (1998): 197-210. Garos, Sheila. "Autoerotic Asphyxiation: A Challenge to Death Educators and Counselors." Omega -- The Journal of Death and Dying (Farmingdale) 28.2 (Feb. 1994): 85-100. Wark, Mckenzie. "Elvis: Listen to the Loss." Art and Text 31 (Dec.-Feb. 1989): 24-28. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Rebecca Farley. "The Word Made Flesh: Media Coverage of Dead Celebrities." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.3 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9905/dead.php>. Chicago style: Rebecca Farley, "The Word Made Flesh: Media Coverage of Dead Celebrities," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 3 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9905/dead.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Rebecca Farley. (1999) The word made flesh: media coverage of dead celebrities. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(3). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9905/dead.php> ([your date of access]).