To see the other types of publications on this topic, follow the link: Greensboro (N.C.) Civil War.

Journal articles on the topic 'Greensboro (N.C.) Civil War'

Create a spot-on reference in APA, MLA, Chicago, Harvard, and other styles

Select a source type:

Consult the top 16 journal articles for your research on the topic 'Greensboro (N.C.) Civil War.'

Next to every source in the list of references, there is an 'Add to bibliography' button. Press on it, and we will generate automatically the bibliographic reference to the chosen work in the citation style you need: APA, MLA, Harvard, Chicago, Vancouver, etc.

You can also download the full text of the academic publication as pdf and read online its abstract whenever available in the metadata.

Browse journal articles on a wide variety of disciplines and organise your bibliography correctly.

1

Pitcher, M. Anne. "What's missing from ‘What's missing’? A reply to C. Cramer and N. Pontara, ‘Rural poverty and poverty alleviation in Mozambique: what's missing from the debate?’." Journal of Modern African Studies 37, no. 4 (1999): 697–709. http://dx.doi.org/10.1017/s0022278x99003195.

Full text
Abstract:
Mozambique has undergone some dramatic changes in recent years. The government concluded a 17-year-old civil war in 1992 and held democratic elections in 1994. Following the adoption of structural adjustment policies after 1987, the government eliminated subsidies on food and consumer items, pledged its support for emerging markets, and has now sold most state companies to private investors. These changes have generated much interest among researchers and policymakers, particularly with regard to their impact on the countryside, where the majority of Mozambicans live and work. Recent studies have focused on the most appropriate rural development strategy for Mozambique now that the war has ended, or examined ways to alleviate the widespread poverty that still exists in rural areas. Other work has analysed the structure of agrarian relations or how to ensure food security. Additional research has criticised the government's on-going policy of encouraging and granting land concessions to private investors. It claims that the policy lacks transparency and fails to consider the rights of local communities.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
2

Chinn, Sarah E. "“No Heart for Human Pity”: The U.S.–Mexican War, Depersonalization, and Power in E. D. E. N. Southworth and María Amparo Ruiz de Burton." Prospects 30 (October 2005): 339–62. http://dx.doi.org/10.1017/s0361233300002076.

Full text
Abstract:
Despite its Current Obscurity today, overshadowed by higher-voltage conflicts such as the Civil War and World War II, the U.S.–Mexican War was an almost unqualified triumph for the United States. In terms of military and geopolitical goals, the United States far exceeded even its own expectations. As well as scoring some pretty impressive victories, up to and including storming Mexico City, the United States succeeded in the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, which concluded the war, to annex huge tracts of land from Mexico for what was even then a bargain-basement price: more than half of Mexico's territory (including Texas, California, New Mexico, Arizona, and significant chunks of Colorado, Nevada, and Utah) for only fifteen million dollars. The advantage of this deal to the newly expanded United States became clearer as only a year after the treaty was signed gold was discovered in California and, within two decades, there was also a thriving silver-mining industry in Nevada.At the time, of course, the war was huge news. The U.S.–Mexican War generated innumerable items of propaganda and related material. As Ronnie C. Tyler has shown, a huge market in chromolithographs of the war emerged, representing “bravery, nobility, and patriotism” (2). The leading lithographers of the day, such as Nathaniel Currier, Carl Nebel, and James Baillie, sold thousands of oversized lithographs of battle scenes, war heroes, and sentimental themes (Baillie's Soldier's Adieu and Currier's The Sailor's Return were particular favorites). Even more numerous were written and performed reports of the war, from the hundreds of newspaper reports from the front to dime novels, songs, poems, broadsheets, plays, and minstrel shows, as well as the typical 19th-century round of essays, sermons, and oratory.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
3

Aston, D. A. "Takeloth II – a King of the ‘Theban Twenty-Third Dynasty’." Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 75, no. 1 (1989): 139–53. http://dx.doi.org/10.1177/030751338907500112.

Full text
Abstract:
The marriages of his offspring, his use of the epithet ntr-ḥqȝ-wȝst, and the absence of monuments attributable to him north of Thebes all imply that Takeloth II belongs to the ‘Theban Twenty-third Dynasty’ and not to the Twenty-second as usually assumed. Delta monuments with the prenomen ḥd-Ḫpr-r' stp-n-r' should now be assigned to Takeloth I. Genealogical evidence suggests that Takeloth II flourished c.825–800 rather than c.850–825, which makes him partly contemporary with Sheshonq III. The ‘gap’ thus created in the chronology of the Twenty-second Dynasty can be filled by allotting a longer reign, of 40–45 years, to Osorkon II. This seems required by the fact that several generations of official families, and five High Priests of Amun, are datable to his reign. The implications for the Theban civil war described in the Chronicle of Prince Osorkon are considered, and the identity of the latter with Osorkon III is asserted: if Takeloth II and Sheshonq III overlap, the lifespan required by the identification is significantly reduced.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
4

Veselkova, Natalia V. "AUTHORSHIP / SUBJECTIVITY IN THE EXPERIENCE OF RUSSIAN BIOGRAPHICAL PROJECTS OF THE FIRST HALF OF THE 20th CENTURY." Ural Historical Journal 69, no. 4 (2020): 84–92. http://dx.doi.org/10.30759/1728-9718-2020-4(69)-84-92.

Full text
Abstract:
In the first half of the 20th century a number of projects with a historical and biographical “stuffing” were carried out in our country, from psychologist N. Rybnikov’s activity to establish Biographical Institute up to Gorky’s “History of the Civil War”, “History of Factories and Plants” and the Mintz Commission on the History of the Great Patriotic War. The affiliation of these projects to the first stage of the development of the biographical method, better known from the studies of the Chicago school, is asserted. The article attempts to analyze Russian projects on the subject of authorship / subjectivity constructions arising in them in an interdisciplinary way of the biographical method, as well as using a multiscalar approach to the study of social memory. It has been shown that “mass character” in these constructions has several aspects: a) involvement of the “masses”, b) key to verification and consensus in describing the past through the recollections of many participants, c) performativity. The democratization of biography-writing is considered in the context of the ‘Halbwachs Theorem’. In order for people unaccustomed to producing memories to be included in biographical practices, as well as to ensure the completeness and comparability of information obtained not only for political, but also for research purposes, semi-formalized methods were developed. Nevertheless, with all the declarations that the workers are now writing history, for the most part they were only suppliers of raw material, and the complex constructions of distributed authorship actually acted.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
5

Di Luca, Natale Mario, and Gianluca Montanari Vergallo. "War pensions schemes: at the root of a set of medico-legal criteria as current as ever." Rivista di Psicopatologia Forense, Medicina Legale, Criminologia 22, no. 1-2-3 (2017): 35–38. http://dx.doi.org/10.4081/psyco.2017.12.

Full text
Abstract:
The following report has been devised in an attempt to address and elaborate on the medico-legal assessment criteria applicable to warrelated damages, in light of the Presidential Decree n. 915, 23rd, December 1978, by drawing comparisons among workplace-injury legislation, welfare systems, and the conventional standards within medico-legal doctrine. Among the elements herein analyzed: a) analytical criteria, expecting an overhaul and thorough implementation of injury case records; b) quality and quantity-related adjectivization such as «grave» and «remarkable»; c) the irrelevance of residual functional capabilities that do not provably affect one’s capacity to successfully engage in any given type of work; d) the assessment of multiple, permanent impairment instances, whether they be homogeneous, heterogeneous, monocrone (i.e. arising from a single event), policrone (resulting from multiple events), concurrent or coexisting; e) the definition of organ; f) the concept of paired organs; g) partial loss of the left-over organ. The paper’s authors ultimately highlight the enduring quality of the medico-legal criteria inherent to the legislation at hand, which, however, ought to be overhauled and updated in order to better reflect the conceptual developments that have occurred with regards to damage compensation in tort law and workplace injuries and occupational disease, which have given rise to the concept of biological damage as a basic one, worthy of redress in itself, regardless of further workrelated consequences. ---------- Il presente contributo analizza i criteri medico-legali di valutazione del danno patito a causa della guerra alla luce del decreto del Presidente della Repubblica n. 915 del 23 dicembre 1978, operando un raffronto sia con i criteri previsti dalle leggi in materia di infortuni sul lavoro e di previdenza sociale sia con le tradizionali acquisizioni della dottrina medico-legale. In particolare, vengono analizzati: a) il criterio analogico, auspicando la revisione e l’adeguata implementazione della casistica delle menomazioni; b) le aggettivazioni qualiquantitative, come «grave» e «notevole»; c) l’irrilevanza di quelle residue capacità funzionali che non presentino alcuna utilità agli effetti della capacità a proficuo lavoro; d) la valutazione delle menomazioni plurime a carattere permanente, a seconda che siano omogenee, eterogenee, monocrone, policrone, concorrenti o coesistenti; e) il concetto di organo; f) la nozione di organo pari; g) la perdita parziale dell’organo superstite. Gli autori concludono evidenziando la perdurante qualità dei criteri medico-legali previsti dalla normativa in esame, la quale, tuttavia, dovrebbe essere aggiornata per tenere conto dell’evoluzione concettuale intervenuta in sede sia di risarcimento del danno in responsabilità civile sia di infortuni sul lavoro e di malattie professionali, che ha introdotto la nozione di danno biologico quale danno di base, già di per sé meritevole di tutela indipendentemente da ulteriori conseguenze di carattere lavorativo e lucrativo. ---------- Este trabajo analiza los criterios médico-legales para evaluar el daño sufrido como resultado de la guerra a la luz del Decreto Presidencial n. 915 del 23 de diciembre de 1978, haciendo una comparación tanto con los criterios establecidos por las leyes sobre accidentes de trabajo y seguridad social como con las adquisiciones tradicionales de doctrina médico-legal. En particular, se analizan: a) el criterio analógico, esperando la revisión y la implementación adecuada de la casuística de impedimentos; b) adjetivos cualitativo-cuantitativos, tales como “serio” y “notable”; c) la irrelevancia de las capacidades funcionales residuales que no presentan ninguna utilidad para los efectos de la capacidad de trabajo rentable; d) la evaluación de impedimentos permanentes múltiples, según sean homogéneos, heterogéneos, monocromados, policromados, concurrentes o coexistentes; e) el concepto de un órgano; f) la noción de un órgano igual; g) pérdida parcial del órgano superviviente. Los autores concluyen destacando la calidad continua de los criterios médico legales establecidos por la legislación en cuestión, que, sin embargo, deberían actualizarse teniendo en cuenta la evolución conceptual que se produce tanto en la indemnización por daños en la responsabilidad civil como en los accidentes de trabajo y enfermedades profesionales, que introdujo la noción de daño biológico como un daño básico, que ya en sí mismo merece protección, independientemente de otras consecuencias lucrativas y relacionadas con el trabajo.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
6

Salevouris, Michael J., Robert W. Brown, Linda Frey, et al. "Book Reviews." Teaching History: A Journal of Methods 12, no. 1 (1987): 31–48. http://dx.doi.org/10.33043/th.12.1.31-48.

Full text
Abstract:
Eliot Wigginton. Sometimes a Shining Moment: The Foxfire Experience-- Twenty Years in a High School Classroom. Garden City, New York: Anchor Press/ Doubleday, 1985. Pp. xiv, 438. Cloth, $19.95. Review by Philip Reed Rulon of Northern Arizona University. Eugene Kuzirian and Larry Madaras, eds. Taking Sides: Clashing Views on Controversial Issues in American History. Vol. I: The Colonial Period to Reconstruction. Guilford , Connecticut: Dushkin Publishing Group, Inc., 1985. Pp. x, 255. Paper, $8.95. Review by Jayme A. Sokolow of the National Endowment for the Humanities. Lois W. Banner. American Beauty. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1983. Pp. ix, 369. Paper, $9.95. Review by Thomas J. Schlereth of the University of Notre Dame. Alan Heimert and Andrew Delbanco, eds. The Puritans in America: A Narrative Anthology. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1985. Pp. xviii, 438. Cloth, $25.00. Review by Raymond C. Bailey of Northern Virginia Community College. Clarence L. Mohr. On the Threshold of Freedom: Masters and Slaves in Civil War Georgia. Athens and London: The University of Georgia Press, 1986. Pp. xxi, 397. Cloth, $35.00. Review by Charles T. Banner-Haley of the Frederick Douglass Institute for African and African-American Studies, University of Rochester. Francis Paul Prucha. The Indians in American Society: From the Revolutionary War to the Present. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985. Pp. ix, 127. Cloth, $15.95. Review by Darlene E. Fisher of New Trier Township High School, Winnetka, Il. Barry D. Karl. The Uneasy State: The United States from 1915 to 1945. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1983. Pp. x, 257. Paper, $7.95; Robert D. Marcus and David Burner, eds. America Since 1945. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1985. Fourth edition. Pp. viii, 408. Paper, $11.95. Review by David L. Nass of Southwest State University, Mn. Michael P. Sullivan. The Vietnam War: A Study in the Making of American Policy. Lexington: The University Press of Kentucky, 1985. Pp. 198. Cloth, $20.00. Review by Joseph L. Arbena of Clemson University. N. Ray Hiner and Joseph M. Hawes, eds. Growing Up In America: Children in Historical Perspective. Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1985. Pp. xxv, 310. Cloth, $27.50; Paper, $9.95. Review by Brian Boland of Lockport Central High School, Lockport, IL. Linda A. Pollock. Forgotten Children: Parent-Child Relations from 1500 to 1900. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983. Pp. xi, 334. Cloth, $49.50; Paper, $16.95. Review by Samuel E. Dicks of Emporia State University. Yahya Armajani and Thomas M. Ricks. Middle East: Past and Present. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1986. Second edition. Pp. xiv, 466. Cloth, $16.95. Review by Calvin H. Allen, Jr of The School of the Ozarks. Henry C. Boren. The Ancient World: An Historical Perspective. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1986. Pp. xx, 407. Paper, $22.95. Review by Arthur Q. Larson of Westmar College (Ret.) Geoffrey Treasure. The Making of Modern Europe, 1648-1780. London and New York: Methuen, 1985. Pp. xvii, 647. Cloth, $35.00; Paper, $16.95. Review by Robert Lindsay of the University of Montana. Alexander Rudhart. Twentieth Century Europe. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1986. Pp. xiv, 462. Paper, $22.95. Review by Linda Frey of the University of Montana. Jonathan Powis. Aristocracy. New York: Basil Blackwell, 1984. Pp. ix, 110. Cloth, $24.95; Paper, $8.95. Review by Robert W. Brown of Pembroke State University. A. J. Youngson. The Prince and the Pretender: A Study in the Writing of History. Dover, New Hampshire: Croom Helm, Ltd., 1985. Pp. 270. Cloth, $29.00. Review Michael J. Salevouris of Webster University.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
7

Pich Mitjana, Josep, and David Martínez Fiol. "Manuel Brabo Portillo. Policía, espía y pistolero (1876-1919)." Vínculos de Historia. Revista del Departamento de Historia de la Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha, no. 8 (June 20, 2019): 387. http://dx.doi.org/10.18239/vdh_2019.08.20.

Full text
Abstract:
RESUMEN:El objetivo del artículo es aproximarnos a la controvertida biografía del comisario Manuel Brabo Portillo. El trabajo está basado en fuentes primarias y secundarias. El método utilizado es empírico. En el imaginario del mundo sindicalista revolucionario, Brabo Portillo era el policía más odiado, la reencarnación de la cara más turbia del Estado. Fue, así mismo, un espía alemán relacionado con el hundimiento de barcos españoles, el asesinato del empresario e ingeniero Barret y el primer jefe de los terroristas vinculados a la patronal barcelonesa. La conflictividad que afectó a España en el período de la Primera Guerra Mundial es fundamental para entender los orígenes del terrorismo vinculado al pistolerismo, que marcó la historia político social española del primer tercio del siglo XX.PALABRAS CLAVE: Brabo Portillo, pistolerismo, espionaje, sindicalismo, Primera Guerra Mundial.ABSTRACT:The objective of the article is an approach to the controversial biography of Police Chief Manuel Brabo Portillo. The work is based on primary and secondary sources. The method used is empirical. In the imagery of the revolutionary syndicalist world, Brabo Portillo was the most hated policeman, the reincarnation of the murkiest face of the state. He was also a German spy connected with the sinking of Spanish ships, the murder of businessman and engineer Josep Barret and the first head of the terrorists linked to Barcelona employers. The conflict that affected Spain during the period of the First World War is fundamental in order to understand the origins of terrorism linked to pistolerismo, which marked Spanish social political history during the first third of the twentieth century.KEY WORDS: Brabo Portillo, pistolerismo, espionage, syndicalism, First World War. BIBLIOGRAFÍAAisa, M., La efervescencia social de los años 20. Barcelona 1917-1923, Barcelona, Descontrol, 2016.Aguirre de Cárcer, N., La neutralidad de España durante la Primera Guerra Mundial (1914-1918). I. Bélgica, Madrid, Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores, 1995.Alonso, G., “’Afectos caprichosos’: Tradicionalismo y germanofilia en España durante la Gran Guerra”, Hispania Nova, 15, 2017, pp. 394-415.Amador, A., El Terror blanco en Barcelona. Las bombas y los atentados personales. Actuación infernal de una banda de asesinos al servicio de la burguesía. El asesinato como una industria, Tarragona, Talleres gráf. Gutenberg, [1920?].Anglés, C., “Contra los sindicatos. Los procesos de la organización obrera. La impostura nunca ha sido justicia”, Solidaridad Obrera, 836 (1/8/1918), p. 1.Balcells, A., El Pistolerisme. Barcelona (1917-1923), Barcelona, Pòrtic, 2009.Ben-Ami, S., La Dictadura de Primo de Rivera (1923-1930), Barcelona, Planeta, 1984.Bengoechea, S., Organització patronal i conflictivitat social a Catalunya. Tradició i corporativisme entre finals de segle i la dictadura de Primo de Rivera, Barcelona, PAM, 1994.Bengoechea, S., El locaut de Barcelona (1919-1920), Barcelona, Curial, 1998.Bengoechea, S., “1919: La Barcelona colpista. L’aliança de patrons i militars contra el sistema liberal”, Afers, 23/24 (1996), pp. 309-327.Brabo Portillo, M., Ensayo sobre policía científica, Barcelona, Gassó Hermanos, [190?].Bravo Portillo, M. y Samper, A., Programa para los exámenes de ingreso ó ascenso en plazas de oficiales de cuarta clase de la Hacienda Pública, Madrid, Mateu, 1906.Bueso, A., Recuerdos de un cenetista, Barcelona, Ariel, 1976.Burgos y Mazo, M. de, El verano de 1919 en Gobernación, Imprenta de E. Pinós-Cuenca, 1921.Calderón, F. de P. [Rico Ariza, E.] y Romero, I., Memorias de un terrorista. Novela episódica de la tragedia barcelonesa, Barcelona, [s.e.], [1924?].Carden, R. M., German Policy Toward Neutral Spain, 1914-1918, London, Routledge, 2014.Cardona, G., Los Milans del Bosch, una familia de armas tomar. Entre la revolución liberal y el franquismo, Barcelona, Edhasa, 2005.Casal Gómez, M., La Banda Negra. El origen y la actuación de los pistoleros en Barcelona (1918-1921), 2ª. Edición, Barcelona, Icaria, 1977.Calle Velasco, M. D. de la, “Sobre los orígenes del estado social en España”, Ayer, 25 (1997), pp. 127-150.D’Ors, E., “La unidad de Europa”, La Vanguardia, (1/12/1914), p. 7.Díaz Plaja, F., Francófilos y germanófilos. Los españoles en la guerra europea, Barcelona, Dopesa, 1973.Díez, P., Memorias de un anarcosindicalista de acción, Barcelona, Bellaterra, 2006.Domingo Méndez, R., “La Gran Guerra y la neutralidad española: entre la tradición historiográfica y las nuevas líneas de investigación”, Spagna Contemporanea, 34 (2008), pp. 27-44.Esculies, J., “España y la Gran Guerra. Nuevas aportaciones historiográficas”, Historia y Política, 32 (2014), pp. 47-70.Esdaile, Ch. J., La Quiebra del liberalismo, 1808-1939, Barcelona, Crítica, 2001.Foix, P., Los Archivos del terrorismo blanco. El fichero Lasarte (1910-1930), Madrid, Las Ediciones de la Piqueta, 1978.Forcadell, C., Parlamentarismo y bolchevización. El movimiento obrero español, 1914-1918, Barcelona, Crítica, 1978.Fuentes Codera, M., “El somni del retorn a l’Imperi: Eugeni d’Ors davant la Gran Guerra”, Recerques, 55 (2007), pp. 73-93.Fuentes Codera, M., “Germanófilos y neutralistas. Proyectos tradicionalistas y regeneracionistas para España (1914-1918)”, Ayer, 91/3 (2013), pp. 63-92.Fuentes Codera, M., España en la Primera Guerra Mundial. Una movilización cultural, Madrid, Akal, 2014.García Oliver, J., El Eco de los pasos, Paris/Barcelona, Ruedo Ibérico, 1978.García Sanz, F., España en la Gran Guerra, Madrid, Galaxia Gutenberg, 2014.Giráldez, E., “Brabo Portillo ¡Yo te acuso, Asesino!”, Solidaridad Obrera, 840 (5/8/1918), p. 1.Golden, L., “Les dones com avantguarda; El rebombori del pa del gener 1918”, L’Avenç (1981), pp. 45-52.Golden, L., “The women in command. The Barcelona women’s consumer war of 1918”, UCLA Historical Journal (1985), pp. 5-32.E. González Calleja y F. del Rey Reguillo, La Defensa armada contra la revolución. Una historia de las guardias cívicas en la España del siglo XX, Madrid, CSIC, 1995.González Calleja, E., La Razón de la fuerza. Orden público, subversión y violencia política en la España de la Restauración, 1875-1917, Madrid, CSIC, 1998.González Calleja, E., El Máuser y el sufragio. Orden público, subversión y violencia política en la crisis de la Restauración (1917-1931), Madrid, CSIC, 1999.González Calleja, E., (ed.), Políticas del miedo. Un balance del terrorismo en Europa, Madrid, Biblioteca Nueva, 2002.González Calleja, E., La España de Primo de Rivera. La modernización autoritaria 1923-1930, Madrid, Alianza Editorial, 2005.González Calleja, E., El laboratorio del miedo. Una historia general del terrorismo, Barcelona, Crítica, 2013.González Calleja, E. y Aubert, P., Nidos de espías. España, Francia y la Primera Guerra Mundial, Madrid, Alianza, 2014.González Calleja, E. (coord.), Anatomía de una crisis. 1917 y los españoles, Madrid, Alianza, 2017.Granados de Siles, J., “El escandaloso espionaje de Barcelona”, Solidaridad Obrera, 793 (19/6/1918), p. 1.Gual Villalbí, P., Memorias de un industrial de nuestro tiempo, Barcelona, Sociedad General de Publicaciones, [193?].León-Ignacio, J., Los años del pistolerismo. Ensayo para una guerra civil, Barcelona, Planeta, 1981.León-Ignacio, J., “Brabo Portillo, comisario y político”, Historia y vida, 181 (1983), pp. 68-73.Llates, R., 30 anys de vida catalana, Barcelona, Aedos, 1969.Madrid, F., Ocho meses y un día en el Gobierno Civil de Barcelona (confesiones y testimonios), Barcelona-Madrid, Las ediciones de la flecha, 1932.Manent, J., Records d’un sindicalista llibertari català, 1916-1943, París, Edicions Catalanes de París, 1976.Marquès, J., Història de l’organització sindical tèxtil “El Radium”, Barcelona, La Llar del Llibre, 1989.Márquez, B. y Capo, J. M., Las Juntas militares de defensa, Barcelona, Librería Sintes, 1923.Martínez Fiol, D., El catalanisme i la Gran Guerra (1914-1918). Antologia, Barcelona, La Magrana, 1988.Martínez Fiol, D. y Esculies Serrat, J., L’Assemblea de Parlamentaris de 1917 i la Catalunya rebel, Barcelona, Generalitat de Catalunya, 2017.Martínez Fiol, D. y Esculies Serrat, J., 1917. El año en que España pudo cambiar, Sevilla, Renacimiento, 2018.M.C.C., “El ‘affaire’ Brabo Portillo”, publicado en El Parlamentario y reproducido por Solidaridad Obrera, 926 (2/11/1918), p. 1.Mendoza, E., La verdad sobre el caso Savolta, Barcelona, Seix y Barral, 1975.Morales Lezcano, V., El colonialismo hispano-francés en Marruecos (1898-1927), Madrid, Siglo XXI, 1976.Navarra, A., 1914. Aliadófilos y germanófilos en la cultura española, Madrid, Cátedra, 2014.Navarra, A., Aliadòfils i germanòfils a Catalunya durant la Primera Guerra Mundial, Barcelona, Generalitat-CHCC, 2016.Nisk, “¡Inocente Brabo!”, Solidaridad Obrera, 789 (15/6/1918), p, 1.Pestaña, Á.,“A vuela pluma” y “En Libertad”, Solidaridad Obrera, 840-841 (5-6/8/1918), p. 1.Pestaña, Á., Terrorismo en Barcelona. Memorias inéditas, Barcelona, Planeta, [1979].Pradas Baena, M. A., L’anarquisme i les lluites socials a Barcelona 1918-1923. La repressió obrera i la violència, Barcelona, PAM, 2003.Pujadas, X., Marcel·lí Domingo i el marcel·linisme, [Barcelona], PAM, 1996.Roig, M., Rafael Vidiella. L’aventura de la revolució, Barcelona, Laia, 1976.Romero Salvadó, F. J., “Crisi, agonia i fi de la monarquía liberal (1914-1923)”, Segle XX. Revista catalana d’història, 1 (2008), pp. 57-82.Romero Salvadó, F. J. y Smith, A. (eds.), The Agony of Spanish Liberalism. FromRevolution to Dictatorship 1913-23, Houndmills, Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, 2010.Rosenbusch, A., “Los servicios de información alemanes: sabotaje y actividad secreta”, Andalucía en la historia, 45 (2014), pp. 24-29.Rosenbusch, A., “Guerra Total en territorio neutral: Actividades alemanas en España durante la Primera Guerra Mundial”, Hispania Nova, 15 (2017), pp. 350-372.S. A., “Historia de un ‘bravo’ muy pillo”, La Campana de Gracia, 2569 (28/6/1918), p. 4.S.A., L’Esquella de la Torratxa, (12/7 y 30/8/ y 12/9/1918), pp. 447, 451, 456, 458, 568, 577 y 592.S. A., “A cada puerco le llega su San Martín” y “La muerte de Batet”, Solidaridad Obrera, 711 y 712 (9 y 10/1/1918), p. 1.S. A., Solidaridad Obrera, 713-716 (11-14/1/1918), p. 1.S. A., “Los conflictos del hambre”, Solidaridad Obrera, 717, 719-721 y 723-727 (15 y 17-19 y 21-25/1/1918), p. 1.S.A., Solidaridad Obrera, 783 y 784-786, (9-12/6/1918), p. 1.S.A., Solidaridad Obrera, 789-790, 794-795, 798 (15-16, 20-21 y 24/6/1918), p. 1.S. A., Solidaridad Obrera, 833 y 837 (28/7 y 2/8/1918), p. 1.S. A., Solidaridad Obrera, (3/7 y 12/12/1918), p. 2.S.A., “Veredicto popular”, Solidaridad Obrera, 790, 791, 793, 794, 795, 798, 799, 800, 802, 808, 809, 810, 811, 815, 816, 817, 818, 819, 820, 821, 822, 823, 825, 826, 827, 828, 829, 830, 832, 833, 834, 835, 836, 837, 838, 839 (16, 17, 19, 20, 21, 24, 25, 26, 28/6; 4, 5, 6, 7, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28, 29, 30, 31/7; 1, 2, 3, 4/8/1918), pp. 1-3.S.A., “Envío a doña Remedios Montero de Brabo Portillo”, 871 (7/9/1918), p. 1.S.A., Solidaridad Obrera, (24, 25, 26, 27, 28 y 30/6 y 3, 6, 8, 5, 10, 12, 13 y 19/7, 4, 5, 9, 23, 24 y 26/8, 21, 24, 25, 31/10, 1, 2/11/ y 1-6, 8, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15, 20, 30 y 31/12/1918), pp. 1-4.Safont, J., Per França i Anglaterra. La I Guerra Mundial dels aliadòfils catalans, Barcelona, Acontravent, 2012.Sánchez Marín, A. L., “El Instituto de Reformas Sociales: origen, evolución y funcionamiento”, Revista Crítica de Historia de las Relaciones Laborales y de la Política Social, 8 (mayo 2014), pp. 7-28.Smith, A., “The Catalan Counter-revolutionary Coalition and the Primo de Rivera Coup, 1917–23”, European History Quaterly 37:1 (2007), pp. 7-34.Smith, A., Anarchism, revolution and reaction. Catalan labor and the crisis of the Spanish State, 1898-1923, New York, Oxford, Berghahn, 2007.Soldevilla, F., El Año político 1920, Madrid, I. de Julio Cosano, 1921.Taibo II, P. I., Que sean fuego las estrellas. Barcelona (1917-1923), Barcelona, Crítica, 2016.Tamames, R. y Casals, X., Miguel Primo de Rivera, Barcelona, Ediciones B, 2004.Tusell, J., Radiografía de un golpe de estado. El ascenso al poder del general Primo de Rivera, Madrid, Alianza, 1987.Val, R. del y Río del Val, J. del, Solidaridad Obrera, 787-788, 790, 794, 801, 805, 807, 811, 814, 818, 828, 829, 836, 970 (13, 14, 16, 20 y 27/6/, 3, 7, 10, 14, 23, 24 y 31/7/ y 1/8/ y 10/121918), p. 1.Vandellós, P., “Contra los sindicatos. Los procesos de la sindicación obrera. De actualidad”, Solidaridad Obrera, 791 (17/6/1918), p. 1.Vidiella, R., Los de ayer. Novela, Madrid-Barcelona, Nuestro Pueblo, 1938.Winston, C. M., La Clase trabajadora y la derecha en España (1900-1936), Madrid, Cátedra, 1989.Winston, C. M., “Carlist workers groups in Catalonia, 1900-1923”, en S. G. Payne (dir.), Identidad y nacionalismo en la España contemporánea: el carlismo, 1833-1975, Madrid, Actas, 1996, pp. 85-101.Wosky, Solidaridad Obrera, 791, 801 y 820, (17 y 21/6/ 10/7/1918), pp. 1 y 3.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
8

Pélissier, René. "Le Mozambique et ses « cousins » [Benjamin Nûnez : Dictionary of Portuguese-African Civilization, vol. 1 : From discovery to independence ; Jaroslav Cerny & Otakar Hulec (eds) : Africana Bohemien. Bibliographia 1918-1988 ; Tim Youngs : Travellers in Africa. British travelogues, 1850-1900 ; Sven Lindqvist : « Exterminate all the brutes » ; Nils Chr. Stenseth, Kjetil Paulsen & Rolf Karlsen (red.) : Afrika. Natur, samfunn og Bistand ; Abdulai Sila : L'ultime tragédie ; Colin Darch : Tanzania. Revised edition ; Pierre Macaire : L'héritage makhuwa au Mozambique ; Andrew C. Ross : Blantyre Mission and the making of modern Malawi ; Allen Isaacman : Cotton is the mother of poverty. Peasants, work and rural struggle in colonial Mozambique, 1938-1961 ; Ricardo de Saavedra : Os dias do fini ; Carlos Vale Ferraz : Os lobos nâo usam coleiras ; Rachel Waterhouse : Mozambique. Rising from the ashes ; Satu Ojanperâ : When people have to move away. Ressettlement as part of erosion control in Nacala, Mozambique ; Jean Dominique Durand et Régis Ladous : Andréa Riccardi, Sant'Egidio, Rome et le Monde ; Éric Morier-Genoud : Of God and Caesar : The relation between Christian Churches and the State in colonial Mozambique, 1974-1981 ; Nations unies : The emergency situation in Mozambique. Priority, requirements for the period 1990-1991 ; Philippe Val : Allez-y, vous n 'en reviendrez pas (la suite) ; Joseph Hanlon : Peace without profit. How the IMF blocks rebuilding in Mozambique ; Brazâo Mazula : Educaçâo, culturel e ideologia em Moçambique : 1975-1985 ; Stephen John Stedman : Peacemaking in civil war. International mediation in Zimbabwe, 1974-1980 ; Thomas Ohlson, Stephen John Stedman & Robert Davies : The new is not born. Conflict resolution in Southern Africa ; Edmond J. Keller & Donald Rothchild (eds.) : Africa in the new international order. Rethinking State sovereignty and régional security ; hester A. Crocker, Fen Osler Hampson & Pamela Aall (eds.) : Managing global chaos. Sources of and responses to international conflict ; Paul B. Rich (éd.) : Reaction and renewal in South Africa ; Jakkie Cilliers & Greg Mills (eds.) : Peacekeeping in Africa, vol. 2]." Revue française d'histoire d'outre-mer 84, no. 317 (1997): 127–33. http://dx.doi.org/10.3406/outre.1997.3592.

Full text
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
9

Protsiv, Myroslava, Catherine Ley, Joanna Lankester, Trevor Hastie, and Julie Parsonnet. "Decreasing human body temperature in the United States since the Industrial Revolution." eLife 9 (January 7, 2020). http://dx.doi.org/10.7554/elife.49555.

Full text
Abstract:
In the US, the normal, oral temperature of adults is, on average, lower than the canonical 37°C established in the 19th century. We postulated that body temperature has decreased over time. Using measurements from three cohorts—the Union Army Veterans of the Civil War (N = 23,710; measurement years 1860–1940), the National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey I (N = 15,301; 1971–1975), and the Stanford Translational Research Integrated Database Environment (N = 150,280; 2007–2017)—we determined that mean body temperature in men and women, after adjusting for age, height, weight and, in some models date and time of day, has decreased monotonically by 0.03°C per birth decade. A similar decline within the Union Army cohort as between cohorts, makes measurement error an unlikely explanation. This substantive and continuing shift in body temperature—a marker for metabolic rate—provides a framework for understanding changes in human health and longevity over 157 years.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
10

Stephens, Em. "Syndromic Surveillance on the Mental Health Impact of Political Rallies in Charlottesville, Virginia." Online Journal of Public Health Informatics 10, no. 1 (2018). http://dx.doi.org/10.5210/ojphi.v10i1.8974.

Full text
Abstract:
ObjectiveTo describe the impact of civil unrest on the mental health of a community in near real-time using syndromic surveillance.IntroductionAs part of a wide-spread community discussion on the presence of monuments to Confederate Civil War figures, the Charlottesville city council voted to remove a statue of General Robert E. Lee.1 Multiple rallies were then held to protest the statue’s removal. A Ku Klux Klan (KKK) rally on July 8, 2017 (MMWR Week 27) and a Unite the Right rally on August 12, 2017 (MMWR Week 32) held in Charlottesville both resulted in violence and media attention.2,3 The violence associated with the Unite the Right rally included fatalities connected to motor vehicle and helicopter crashes.Syndromic surveillance has been used to study the impact of terrorism on a community’s mental health4 while more traditional data sources have looked at the impact of racially-charged civil unrest.5 Syndromic surveillance, however, has not previously been used to document the effect of racially-charged violence on the health of a community.MethodsThe Virginia Department of Health (VDH) analyzed syndromic surveillance data from three emergency departments (EDs) in the Charlottesville area (defined to include Charlottesville city and Albemarle county), regardless of patient residence following the Unite the Right rally. Visits to these EDs between January 1 and September 2, 2017 were analyzed using the Enhanced Surveillance System for the Early Notification of Community-based Epidemics (ESSENCE) and Microsoft SQL 2012. Encounters were identified as acute anxiety-related visits based on an International Classification of Diseases, Tenth Revision (ICD-10) discharge diagnosis beginning with ’F41’. Analyses were conducted using the ESSENCE algorithm EWMA 1.2 and SAS 9.3.ResultsThe greatest number of visits with a primary diagnosis of anxiety in 2017 (N=20) was observed in MMWR week 34 (August 20-26). This represented a statistically significant increase over baseline with a p-value of 0.01.By race, a significant increase over baseline in visits with a primary diagnosis of anxiety was observed among blacks or African Americans. The largest volume of visits was observed in MMWR week 33 with a total of 8 identified visits or 1.8% of total ED visit volume. The increase in visits for anxiety observed in weeks 33-35 was 2.2 times greater among blacks or African Americans than it was among whites, p = 0.016, 95% CI [1.14, 4.16].ConclusionsPrevious work done in Virginia to identify ED visits related to anxiety included only chief complaint criteria in the syndrome definition. Due to a change in how one ED in the Charlottesville area reported data during the study period, this syndrome definition could not be applied. In order to remove any potential data artifacts, only those visits with an initial diagnosis of anxiety were included in the analysis. The resulting syndrome definition likely underestimated the occurrence of anxiety in the Charlottesville area, both because it lacked chief complaint information and because syndromic surveillance does not include data on visits to mental health providers outside of EDs. This analysis presents a trend over time rather than a true measure of the prevalence of anxiety.This analysis, while conservative in its inclusion criteria, still identified an increase in visits for anxiety, particularly among blacks or African Americans. In today’s political environment of race-related civil unrest, a way to measure the burden of mental illness occurring in the community can be invaluable for public health response. In Charlottesville, the identification of a community-wide need for mental health support prompted many local providers to offer their services to those in need pro-bono.6References1 Suarez, C. (2017, February 6). Charlottesville City Council votes to remove statue from Lee Park. The Daily Progress. Retrieved from http://bit.ly/2wYOHhv2 Spencer, H., & Stevens, M. (2017, July 8). 23 Arrested and Tear Gas Deployed After a K.K.K. Rally in Virginia. The New York Times. Retrieved from http://nyti.ms/2tCiBGU3 Hanna, J., Hartung, K., Sayers, D., & Almasy, S. (2017, August 13). Virginia governor to white nationalists: ‘Go home … shame on you’. CNN. Retrieved from http://cnn.it/2vvAGHt4 Vandentorren, S., Paty, A. C., Baffert, E., Chansard, P., Caserio-Schönemann, C. (2016, February). Syndromic surveillance during the Paris terrorist attacks. The Lancet (387(10021), 846-847. doi:10.1016/S0140-6736(16)00507-95 Yimgang, D. P., Wang, Y., Paik, G., Hager, E. R., & Black, M. M. Civil Unrest in the Context of Chronic Community Violence: Impact on Maternal Depressive Symptoms. American Journal of Public Health 107(9), 1455-1462. doi:10.2105/AJPH.2017.3038766 DeLuca, P. (2017, August 19). Downtown Charlottesville Library Offers Free Counseling. NBC29.com. Retrieved from http://bit.ly/2yIzHbl
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
11

"Recensions / Reviews." Canadian Journal of Political Science 35, no. 3 (2002): 629–712. http://dx.doi.org/10.1017/s0008423902778384.

Full text
Abstract:
Carty, R. Kenneth, William Cross and Lisa Young. Rebuilding Canadian Party Politics. By Miriam Lapp 631Broadbent, Edward, ed. Democratic Equality: What Went Wrong? By Rodney Haddow 633Boyd, Susan S., Dorothy E. Chunn and Robert Menzies, eds. (Ab)Using Power: The Canadian Experience. By Audrey Doerr 635Pal, Leslie A., ed.. How Ottawa Spends 2000-2001: Past Imperfect, Future Tense. By Nelson Wiseman 636Chennells, David. The Politics of Nationalism in Canada: Cultural Conflict since 1760. By Richard Vengroff 638Helly, Denise et Nicolas Van Schendel. Appartenir au Québec. Citoyenneté, nation et société civile. Enquête à Montréal, 1995. Par Guy Chiasson 639Rose, Alex. Spirit Dance at Meziadin: Chief Joseph Gosnell and the Nisga'a Treaty. By Michael J. Prince 640Cardinal, Linda, en collaboration avec Caroline Andrew et Michèle Kérisit. Chroniques d'une vie politique mouvementée. L'Ontario francophone de 1986 à 1996. Par Simon Langlois 642Kreinin, Mordechai, ed. Building a Partnership: The Canada-United States Free Trade Agreement. By Stephen Clarkson 643Clingermayer, James C. and Richard C. Feiock. Institutional Constraints and Policy Choice: An Exploration of Local Governance. By John J. Kirlin 645Muxel, Anne. L'expérience politique des jeunes. Par Marc Molgat 647Sowerwine, Charles. France since 1870: Culture, Politics and Society. By Robert Elgie 650Sniderman, Paul M., Pierangelo Peri, Rui J. P. de Figueiredo, Jr. and Thomas Piazza. The Outsider: Prejudice and Politics in Italy. By Stephen Hellman 651Gardet, Claudie, avec une préface de Marie-Claire Bergère. Les relations de la République populaire de Chine et de la République démocratique allemande (1949-1989). Par André Laliberté 653Katsiaficas, George, ed. After the Fall: 1989 and the Future of Freedom. By Barbara J. Falk 655Quesney, Chantale. Kosovo, les mémoires qui tuent. La guerre vue sur Internet. Par Dany Deschênes 657Moser, Robert G. Unexpected Outcomes: Electoral Systems, Political Parties, and Representation in Russia. By Jody Baumgartner 660Powers, Nancy R. Grassroots Expectations of Democracy and Economy: Argentina in Comparative Perspective. By Jeffery R. Webber 661Kymlicka, Will. La citoyenneté multiculturelle. Une théorie libérale du droit des minorités. Par France Gagnon 663Kymlicka, Will. Politics in the Vernacular: Nationalism, Multiculturalism, and Citizenship. By Ciaran Cronin 665Schmid, Carol L. The Politics of Language: Conflict, Identity, and Cultural Pluralism in Comparative Perspective. By Ines Molinaro 667Merad, Ali. La tradition musulmane. Par Chedly Belkhodja 668Kaufman, Stuart J. Modern Hatreds: The Symbolic Politics of Ethnic War. By Crawford Young 671Baum, Gregory. Le nationalisme: perspectives éthiques et religieuses. Par Frédérick Boily 672Keating, Michael and John McGarry, eds. Minority Nationalism and the Changing International Order. By Stefan Wolff 674Gurr, Ted Robert. Peoples versus States: Minorities at Risk in the New Century. By John A. Hall 676Biggar, Nigel, ed. Burying the Past: Making Peace and Doing Justice after Civil Conflict. By Steven M. Delue 677Kruks, Sonia. Retrieving Experience: Subjectivity and Recognition in Feminist Politics. By Lorraine Code 679Kinzer, Bruce L. England's Disgrace? J. S. Mill and the Irish Question. By Samuel V. Laselva 681Kahan, Alan S. Aristocratic Liberalism: The Social and Political Thought of Jacob Burkhardt, John Stuart Mill, and Alexis de Tocqueville. By Brian Richardson 682Passet, René. L'illusion néo-libérale. Par Marcel Filion 684Andrew, Edward G. Conscience and Its Critics: Protestant Conscience, Enlightenment Reason, and Modern Subjectivity. By Jason Neidleman 687Villa, Dana, ed. The Cambridge Companion to Hannah Arendt. By Robert Pirro 689Pirro, Robert C. Hannah Arendt and the Politics of Tragedy. By Pamela S. Leach 691Davis, Arthur and Peter C. Emberley, eds. Collected Works of George Grant:Vol. 1: 1933-1950. By Ron Dart 692Owen, J. Judd. Religion and the Demise of Liberal Rationalism: The Foundational Crisis of the Separation of Church and State. By Emily R. Gill 694Gray, John. Two Faces of Liberalism. By Brian Donohue 695Lom, Petr. The Limits of Doubt: The Moral and Political Implications of Skepticism. By Craig Beam 696Parekh, Bhikhu. Rethinking Multiculturalism: Cultural Diversity and Political Theory. By Jonathan Quong 698Heath, Joseph. Communicative Action and Rational Choice. By Bryce Weber 699Franke, Mark F. N. Global Limits: Immanuel Kant, International Relations, and Critique of World Politics. By Brian Orend 702Philpott, Daniel. Revolutions in Sovereignty: How Ideas Shaped Modern International Relations. By Chris Brown 703Aleinikoff, T. Alexander and Douglas Klusmeyer, eds. Citizenship Today: Global Perspectives and Practices. By Patrizia Longo 705Sommier, Isabelle. Les nouveaux mouvements contestataires à l'heure de la mondialisation. Par Christian Poirier 706Harris, Paul G., ed.. The Environment, International Relations, and U.S. Foreign Policy. By Robert Boardman 709Burgerman, Susan. Moral Victories: How Activists Provoke Multilateral Action. By Phil Degruchy 711
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
12

Norman, Brian J. "Allegiance and Renunciation at the Border." M/C Journal 7, no. 2 (2004). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.2334.

Full text
Abstract:
“I’m saying let’s make it 84 percent turnout in two years, and then see what happens!” …“Oh, yes! Vote! Dress yourself up, and vote! Even if you only go into the voting booth and pray. Do that!” Bernice Johnson Reagon and Toni Morrison on the 2000 Presidential election in June Jordan’s essay, “The Invisible People: An Unsolicited Report on Black Rage” (2001) On September 17, 2003, Citizenship Day, the United States was to adopt a new version of its Oath of Allegiance. The updated version would modernize the oath by removing cumbersome words like “abjure” and dropping anachronistic references like “potentate.” Thus the oral recitation marking the entrance into citizenship would become more meaningful—and more manageable—for the millions of immigrants eligible for naturalization. The revised version, however, was quickly canned after conservative organizations, senators, and other loud political leaders decried what they saw as an attack on a timeless document and a weakening of the military obligation foundational to entrance into the American citizenry. The Heritage Foundation, one such organization opposing the perceived attack on citizenship, issued an executive statement decrying “the Department of Homeland Security's misguided attempts to make U.S. citizenship more ‘user-friendly’ for those who want the benefits of our country, but don't care to accept the responsibility” (n.pag.). Indeed, the thwarted attempt to make citizenship procedures more welcoming arose at a curious time. Though the proposed changes arose from a long, rather mundane administrative initiative to reconsider various procedural issues, the debate over the Oath of Allegiance politicized the issue within the context of the war on terror and the constriction of entrances into the national turf. The Bush administration responded to events referred to as 9/11 with vigorous efforts to shore up national borders within a language of terrorism, evildoers, and the dire need for domestic security. The infamous Immigration and Naturalization Services (INS) became the consumerist, welcome-sounding Bureau of Citizenship and Immigration Services when it was placed it under the newly formed Department of Homeland Security. The consolidation of citizenship services and disparate border policing programs further bolsters the longstanding scrutiny of immigrants—especially those considered not-white—for their ideological commitment and adherence to current national ideals. Naturalization requires a uniform recitation of unhesitant adherence to official doctrines—and a stated commitment to fight and die for those ideals. War, it seems, and its necessary division of friends and foes (“evildoers”), occupies the dead center of official ceremonies of citizenship. Naturalization procedures demonstrate how the figure of the immigrant undergoes rigorous scrutiny and thus defines the bounds of American citizenship. However, as immigration scholars like Bonnie Honig, Mai Ngai, Linda Bosniak, and Judith Shklar have shown, the specter of the immigrant also serves as an exculpatory device for preexisting inequities by obscuring internal division. While immigrants perform allegiance publicly to obtain citizenship status, birth-right citizens are presumed to have been born with a natural allegiance that precludes multiple allegiances to ideologies, projects, or potentates outside national borders. Ideas about the necessity of pairing exclusive ideological commitment with citizenship are as old as the American nation, notwithstanding the tremendous volume of announcements of a new world order in the wake of 9/11. In all incarnations of the citizenship oath, full membership in the nation-state via naturalization requires a simultaneous oath of allegiance and renunciation. Entrance into the nation-state requires exit—from ideological turf more than geographic turf—from the newly naturalized citizen’s former home country. Though scholars of diasporic and cosmopolitan identities like Aihwa Ong, Phengh Cheah, Bruce Robbins, and Brent Edwards have questioned the viability of the nation-state in postmodernity, official American articulations of citizenship adhere to a longstanding phenomenon whereby inclusion within the polity requires a simultaneous exclusion or renunciation. Or, in the realm of rhetoric, any articulation of a “we” requires a simultaneous citation of a “not-we.” At the heart of citizenship is a cleavage: a coming together made possible by a splitting apart. It is not mere historical curiosity that the notorious utterance of “We” in the Action of the Second Continental Congress popularly known as the Declaration of Independence is forged in direct opposition to a “He” (King George III)—repeated no less than nineteen times in the short document. In contrast, “we” appears only eleven times. What the Declaration shows, and what the Oath of Allegiance insists, is that the constitution of a bounded polity in America emphasizes external difference in order to create the semblance of an internally homogeneous “we.” Thus arises the potency of national documents that announce equality amidst a decidedly unequal social order. These documents provide the ring of broad inclusion for what Rogers M. Smith has described as “civic myths”: ideals of full equality that politicians cite enthusiastically without worrying about their veracity in the everyday lives of the citizenry. Yet American archives and literary histories teem with protest writing that makes visible the internal divisions of American publics. In these literatures arises a figure that threatens the fragile story of a finished “we” based on uniform allegiance: the partial citizen speaking. The partial citizen speaking—from experience, on behalf of others—and addressing the real divisions within a national audience is situated at a strategic site at which to simultaneously claim and critique the inclusive pronouncements of the American Republic in order to make them real. The best example is Frederick Douglass who, having been invited to celebrate the nation in 1848, capitalized on his tenuous claim to citizenship status and delivered the speech “What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?” In the speech, Douglass excoriates his audience in Rochester, New York on behalf of the slaves absent from Corinthian Hall because they are toiling on Southern plantations. To his “fellow-citizens” Douglass cries, “This Fourth of July is yours not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn” (116). In contradistinction to leaders’ duplicitous uses of civic myths eschewed by Smith, protesters like Douglass use their partial citizenship to gain a toehold on the viable, but unfinished project of full democracy for all. By claiming the essential American-ness of their projects, protesters like Douglass position their present projects as the fulfillment of previous national promises. In her study of foreigners’ critiques of America, Bonnie Honig shows how “[Foreigners] make room for themselves by staging nonexistent rights, and by way of such stagings, sometimes, new rights, powers, and visions come into being” (101). In the wake of 9/11, we must be interested in the rhetorical means of similar stagings by those already inside presumed national borders who have been denied full access to, or enjoyment of civic, economic, and/or social rights. These partial citizens speaking and writing stage heretofore nonexistent rights by claiming preexisting civic myths by, for, and on behalf of voices that were never meant to speak such civic myths as truths. Sometime after 9/11, President George W. Bush took the virtually unprecedented step of labeling U.S. citizens like Yasir Hamdi and José Padilla “enemy combatants” in order to circumvent the guaranteed legal rights to counsel and trial afforded to all U.S. citizens. The arbitrary nullification of Hamdi’s and Padilla’s citizenship rights was not entirely new given that protest has often been seen as forfeiture of citizenship. In addition to the obvious example of the allegiance-renunciation pairing in the citizenship oath, we can turn to Emma Goldman’s deportation to Russia in 1919, or to the odd favor with which the exit plans of Garveyites and their predecessors have been received. Or, squarely within American borders, Henry David Thoreau’s blueprint of civil disobedience pairs protest with the withdrawal from collectivity (his refusal to pay poll taxes in protest of the Mexican War), a move which bolsters the notion that dissent necessitates a retraction from participation in the public sphere. However, there is another option: collectivity in the face of division. Protesters like Douglass occupy the outposts of real publics that can deliver the ineffable social equality of the modern democratic state. Here, those whose very citizenship is in question are the ones to sift through the promises of the nation-state and to hold them against the evidence of experience—their own and that of others for whom they speak. Participation in the state is more than adherence and renunciation. If Toni Morrison would just as soon have us enter a polling station to pray as to vote; so, too, protesters like Douglass demand hope amidst despairing situations of inequality—often state-sponsored. Their projects are never to simply unveil inconsistency between state promises and the experiences of subsets of its citizenry. Squarely within the circuitous myths that enshroud the state’s turf, these protesters stake claims to the very national myths that threaten their existence. Works Cited Bosniak, Linda. “Citizenship.” The Oxford Handbook of Legal Studies. Eds. Peter Can & MarkTushnet. New York: Oxford UP, 2003. 183-201. Cheah, Phengh, and Bruce Robbins, eds. Cosmopolitics: Thinking and Feeling Beyond the Nation. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1998. Douglass, Frederick. “What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?” 1848. Oxford Frederick Douglass Reader. Ed. William L. Andrews. New York: Oxford UP, 1996. 108-30. Edwards, Brent Hayes. The Practice of Diaspora: Literature, Translation, and the Rise of Black Internationalism. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 2003. Govindarajan, Shweta. “Criticism Puts Citizenship Oath Revision on Hold; Conservatives Pan Immigration Officials’ Modernization of the Long-Used Pledge.” Los Angeles Times 19 Sep. 2003, sect. 1:13. The Heritage Foundation. First They Attacked the Pledge, Now the Oath. 10 Sep. 2003. <http://www.heritage.org/Research/HomelandDefense/meeseletter.cfm>. Honig, Bonnie. Democracy and the Foreigner. Princeton: Princeton UP, 2001. Jordan, June. “The Invisible People: An Unsolicited Report on Black Rage.” Some of Us Did Not Die: New and Selected Essays of June Jordan. New York: Basic Books, 2001. 16-19. Ngai, Mae. Impossible Subjects: Illegal Aliens and the Making of Modern America. Princeton: Princeton UP, 2003. Ong, Aihwa. Flexible Citizenship: The Cultural Logics of Transnationality. Durham, NC: Duke UP, 1999. Shklar, Judith N. American Citizenship and the Quest for Inclusion. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1991. Smith, Rogers M. Civic Ideals: Conflicting Visions of Citizenship in U.S. History. New Haven: Yale UP, 1997. Websites Department of Homeland Security: www.dhs.gov/dhspublic/ Citation reference for this article MLA Style Norman, Brian J. "Allegiance and Renunciation at the Border" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0403/04-allegiance.php>. APA Style Norman, B. (2004, Mar17). Allegiance and Renunciation at the Border. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture, 7, <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0403/04-allegiance.php>
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
13

Beckwith, Karl. ""Black Metal is for white people"." M/C Journal 5, no. 3 (2002). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.1962.

Full text
Abstract:
The power of culturally-bound controlling images around notions of 'colour' in regard to ethnicity have historically been marked and far-reaching. Most obvious examples of such political power relations can be seen in regard to racism and social domination. Biologically-based assertions that one specific category of people are somehow inherently inferior or superior to another were central and indeed continue to be paramount in (neo) Nazi-style rhetoric. Such political beliefs, most notable of course within the first half of the Twentieth Century, often went hand-in-hand with a right-wing ecologism that eschewed the alienation of urban life for an idealised rural existence (Heywood 283). This paper focusses upon how such assumptions and controlling images have resonated in recent times within the Nordic Black Metal music scene - an encompassing term used to describe a sub-genre of music that exists within a wider Heavy Metal and in particular Extreme Metal scene. Black Metal did not gain a stranglehold on Extreme Metal subculture until the 1990s. It also took socio-politics in Metal a stage further and to an extreme never seen before. Being most prolific in Scandinavia, and in particular Norway, Black Metal tended to focus upon Viking mythology and Odinism as a source of subject matter. Here, Nordic Black Metal based its identity on the virtues associated with its geographical location. As Dyer (21) points out, Northern Europe, with its notions of remoteness and coldness, combined with ideas of the cleanliness of the air, the soul- elevating beauty of mountain vistas, and the pureness of the white snow, could be seen to have formed the distinctiveness of a white identity and its related notions of energy, discipline and spiritual elevation. Such notions have their roots in the National Socialist programme of propaganda films of the 1930s and 1940s. Such films included Ich fur Dich - Du fur Mich (Me for You - You for Me, 1934), (Welch 48), which reinforced Nazi ideals of 'racial purity' and was centred on two interrelated themes; that of Blut und Boden ('blood and soil'), and Volk und Heimat ('a people and a homeland'). Here the strength of the 'master race' was linked to the sacredness of the German soil, usually in the form of some idyllic pastoral setting. Nazi 'revolution' was based upon presumed Germanic traditions and the recapture of a mythical past. Thus urban and industrial life was eschewed in favour of a more Germanic utopian community vision. This led the Nazis to draw an inexorable link between the pureness of the German land and the pureness of the Aryan race. The idea of the German utopian community raised notions of fitness and survival. For example, Walther Darre, the then Minister for Agriculture, drew Darwinistic parallels between animals and humans when he stated that, “We shall gather together the best blood. Just as we are now breeding our Hanover horse from the few remaining pure-blooded male and female stock, so we shall see the same type of breeding over the next generation of the pure type of Nordic German” (Welch 67). Such Nazi ideas of purity and survival of the fittest have been echoed in the Black Metal scene of recent years. This has clearly been illustrated, for example, in the sentiments of musicians such as 'Hellhammer', drummer with Norwegian band Mayhem who, when asked if he had fascist views, revealed that “I'm pretty convinced that there are differences between races as well as anything else. I think that like animals, some races are more... you know, like a cat is much more intelligent than a bird or a cow, or even a dog, and I think that's also the case with different races” (Moynihan and Soderlind 306). The comparison of certain people to animals acts to create controlling images that, in this instance, makes racism appear to be natural and inevitable (Collins 68). As Davis (25) points out, a key belief in racist ideology is the biologically and genetically-based assumption that ethnic minorities share similar patterns of behaviour because it is 'in their blood'. Indeed, it is no accident that some Black Metal musicians have made comparisons between ethnicity and animals. Such comparisons act to not only further this idea of superior 'blood stock' but also serve to dehumanise those who are seen to be inferior. Black Metal musicians saw themselves as being superior both musically as well as 'racially'. Just as Minister for Agriculture Walther Darre suggested that the pure blooded Nordic German was, although few in numbers, a superior racial minority within the human race in general, certain Black Metal musicians have shared a similar view that they are a racially and therefore musically superior group within the wider Extreme and Heavy Metal scene. Such assumptions have manifested themselves in a number of ways. Musicians such as Varg Vikernes, of Norwegian band Burzum, have made direct links between the development of Metal and assumed qualities of 'whiteness' when he argued that “The guitar is a European invention ... However, the music played on the guitar is mostly nigger (sic) music”, (NME n.pag). In such an example there is the assumption that 'white' Metal and Metal musicians are somehow inherently superior, and that this superiority of talent stems from a racial 'purity' lacking in 'non-white' metal scenes which, consequently, are seen as nothing more than a contamination, both racially and therefore musically. As Nazi actions were in part based upon the recapture of a mythical past, so too in Black Metal is there a notion that “We must take this scene to what it was in the past”, (Moynihan and Soderlind 60). Thus, as in National Socialism of the 1930s and 1940s, modern day Nazism within the Black Metal scene takes inspiration, ideology and hope from a romanticised notion of the past. This can be seen in the slogans that adorn much Black Metal band's merchandise, for example the band Darkthrone and their self-confessed “Norsk Arisk Black Metal” (Norwegian Aryan Black Metal) which appeared on the sleeve of their 1994 album Transylvanian Hunger, and in the more elaborate socio-political views of other Black Metal musicians such as Varg Vikernes who has expressed his Utopian visions in the belief that there should be a “return to the life-style of the Middle-Ages” in which “The masses need to live in harmony with nature”, (Vikernes n.pag). The notion that “Black Metal is for white people” (Moynihan and Doderlind 305) was also reflected in other stylistic components of Black Metal iconography. The practice of wearing “corpsepaint” was quickly adopted by nearly all Black Metal bands in the early years of its development, and is still widely used today. The concept of wearing corpsepaint - theatrical black and white makeup that created a gruesome appearance - can be traced as far back as the emergence of rock bands such as KISS and heavier acts such as King Diamond, who became known for their elaborate stage rock shows. However, whilst the adoption of corpsepaint by Black Metal bands may have been to create similar macabre images as more established rock and Heavy Metal bands had before them, the emphasis on 'whiteness' that corpsepaint gives cannot be overlooked. Such images, the pale white face emphasised even further when contrasted with traditional codes of dress - the black denim and leather clothes, can be seen to be emphasising the idea of white being an 'ideal'. That is, the symbolism that is carried by the colour white, its “moral and also aesthetic superiority”, (Dyer 70), has also manifested itself in certain aspects of Extreme Metal and in particular Black Metal. As highlighted earlier, just as 'whiteness' has been linked with notions of power, superiority and purity, so to have some Black Metal bands suggested that whiteness within Metal is inherently superior. The adoption of corpse paint is just one way notions of 'whiteness' have been underlined in the Extreme Metal scene. Such ideas of whiteness in some cases developed into more pronounced aspects of Nationalism and in particular National Socialism. The development of extreme right-wing beliefs, coupled with other more established controversial subject matters, such as Satanism, led to a notoriety that some Black Metal was, in many ways, proud to live up to. Whilst overtly racist or fascist sentiments are far from the norm within the Black Metal and wider Extreme Metal genre and the intolerance of such beliefs within the Metal industry in general has been clearly illustrated on many occasions, it cannot be said that those who are open and committed to extreme right-wing beliefs have not gained attention and some support through the controversial iconography and discourse they have used. A marked example of such attitudes can be found in the music, beliefs and actions of the Norwegian Black Metal band Burzum. Burzum, a solo project of musician Varg Vikernes, was one of the first Black Metal bands to appear in Norway. Although originally gaining inspiration from popular motifs in fantasy literature, Vikernes became increasingly known within the Black Metal scene for his increasingly radical views in regard to racial ideology and is now an outright self-confessed Neo-Nazi. In recent years Vikernes has courted controversy and reinforced a racist and fascist discourse within the Black Metal scene. In 1997, Vikernes was heavily criticised by many within Extreme Metal over the design of a new Burzum t-shirt. Created by Vikernes himself, the front featured the usual Burzum logo but was also adorned with a German World War II SS Death's Head logo. This, combined with a back print which bore the slogan “Support your local Einsatzkommando”, led to problems licensing and printing the shirt. Whilst Tiziana Stupia, Director of the now defunct Suffolk-based Misanthropy Records to which Burzum was signed, highlighted that the term Einsatzkommando was “still used quite uncontroversially to describe police SWAT teams” (Terrorizer 1997:6, no.41), the unambiguous fascist motifs also present on the shirt betray the true intention of the slogan. However, it would be erroneous to suggest that controlling images of 'colour' within the Nordic Black Metal scene are situated merely within a framework of neo-Nazi rhetoric. Indeed, such radical and consequently isolated ideologies and actions of certain Extreme Metal musicians that were very much apparent in the early 1990s have largely given way to more contemporary and in some ways egalitarian aesthetic, thematic and stylistic formations. The pastoral fixations of Black Metal that were very much analogous with right-wing dogmatic beliefs have been replaced by a distinctly 'urban' mindset that now focuses upon a 'commonality of adversity' and problems of modern existence for all peoples. Aesthetically the use of 'corpsepaint' has largely been dropped by many of the more pioneering acts, and this combined with stylistic movements that have seen the adoption of traditionally 'non-white' musical formations, has resulted in the drum 'n' bass/ ambient trip-hop concentrations of bands such as Arcturus and Ulver, and the general focus of 'urban decay' espoused by those such as Satyricon. Yet, even contemporary Black Metal has not completely severed its links with fascist controversy, and consequently constructs of colour, as even merely the names of acts such as Zyklon clearly illustrate. It is clear then that certain oppressive texts in relation to constructs of 'colour' can be highly problematic for many, both within and outside the Extreme metal scene. Powerful and historical discourses that espouse 'natural' assumptions around notions of ethnicity produce crude yet largely unquestioned presentations. Consequently, through its incorporation of such texts, certain aspects of Black Metal can be seen to perpetuate oppressive ideas of 'difference'. Via certain controlling images, some individuals can be subjected to objectification within Extreme Metal subculture which sees them marginalised and relegated. Consequently, dominant discourses within some areas of Black Metal can have the result of portraying ethnic minorities as merely 'non-white' and thus inexorably link such groups with a notion of 'inferiority'. References Collins, P.H. Black Feminist Thought. London: Routledge, 1991. Davis, F.J. Who is Black?. Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1991. Dyer, W. White. London: Routledge, 1997. Heywood, A. Political Ideologies. London: MacMillan Press LTD, 1998. Moynihan, M. & Soderlind, D. Lords of Chaos: The Bloody Rise of the Satanic Metal Underground. Venice: Feral House, 1998. NME Magazine. No Title. (September 5 1997) http.http://www.burzum.com. Accessed November 28 2000. Terrorizer Extreme Music Magazine (no.41, 1997:6) EQ Publications LTD. Vikernes, Varg. Civilisation. (no date) http.http://www.burzum.com/library/varg/civil... Accessed December 7 2000. Welch, D. The Third Reich: Politics and Propaganda. London: Routledge, 1993. Discography: Darkthrone, Transylvanian Hunger. Peaceville records, Vile 43, 1994. Links http://www.burzum.com. http://www.burzum.com/library/varg/civilisation.html. CIT Citation reference for this article MLA Style Beckwith., Karl. ""Black Metal is for white people"" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5.3 (2002). [your date of access] < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0207/blackmetal.php>. Chicago Style Beckwith., Karl, ""Black Metal is for white people"" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5, no. 3 (2002), < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0207/blackmetal.php> ([your date of access]). APA Style Beckwith., Karl. (2002) "Black Metal is for white people". M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5(3). < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0207/blackmetal.php> ([your date of access]).
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
14

Deer, Patrick, and Toby Miller. "A Day That Will Live In … ?" M/C Journal 5, no. 1 (2002). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.1938.

Full text
Abstract:
By the time you read this, it will be wrong. Things seemed to be moving so fast in these first days after airplanes crashed into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the Pennsylvania earth. Each certainty is as carelessly dropped as it was once carelessly assumed. The sounds of lower Manhattan that used to serve as white noise for residents—sirens, screeches, screams—are no longer signs without a referent. Instead, they make folks stare and stop, hurry and hustle, wondering whether the noises we know so well are in fact, this time, coefficients of a new reality. At the time of writing, the events themselves are also signs without referents—there has been no direct claim of responsibility, and little proof offered by accusers since the 11th. But it has been assumed that there is a link to US foreign policy, its military and economic presence in the Arab world, and opposition to it that seeks revenge. In the intervening weeks the US media and the war planners have supplied their own narrow frameworks, making New York’s “ground zero” into the starting point for a new escalation of global violence. We want to write here about the combination of sources and sensations that came that day, and the jumble of knowledges and emotions that filled our minds. Working late the night before, Toby was awoken in the morning by one of the planes right overhead. That happens sometimes. I have long expected a crash when I’ve heard the roar of jet engines so close—but I didn’t this time. Often when that sound hits me, I get up and go for a run down by the water, just near Wall Street. Something kept me back that day. Instead, I headed for my laptop. Because I cannot rely on local media to tell me very much about the role of the US in world affairs, I was reading the British newspaper The Guardian on-line when it flashed a two-line report about the planes. I looked up at the calendar above my desk to see whether it was April 1st. Truly. Then I got off-line and turned on the TV to watch CNN. That second, the phone rang. My quasi-ex-girlfriend I’m still in love with called from the mid-West. She was due to leave that day for the Bay Area. Was I alright? We spoke for a bit. She said my cell phone was out, and indeed it was for the remainder of the day. As I hung up from her, my friend Ana rang, tearful and concerned. Her husband, Patrick, had left an hour before for work in New Jersey, and it seemed like a dangerous separation. All separations were potentially fatal that day. You wanted to know where everyone was, every minute. She told me she had been trying to contact Palestinian friends who worked and attended school near the event—their ethnic, religious, and national backgrounds made for real poignancy, as we both thought of the prejudice they would (probably) face, regardless of the eventual who/what/when/where/how of these events. We agreed to meet at Bruno’s, a bakery on La Guardia Place. For some reason I really took my time, though, before getting to Ana. I shampooed and shaved under the shower. This was a horror, and I needed to look my best, even as men and women were losing and risking their lives. I can only interpret what I did as an attempt to impose normalcy and control on the situation, on my environment. When I finally made it down there, she’d located our friends. They were safe. We stood in the street and watched the Towers. Horrified by the sight of human beings tumbling to their deaths, we turned to buy a tea/coffee—again some ludicrous normalization—but were drawn back by chilling screams from the street. Racing outside, we saw the second Tower collapse, and clutched at each other. People were streaming towards us from further downtown. We decided to be with our Palestinian friends in their apartment. When we arrived, we learnt that Mark had been four minutes away from the WTC when the first plane hit. I tried to call my daughter in London and my father in Canberra, but to no avail. I rang the mid-West, and asked my maybe-former novia to call England and Australia to report in on me. Our friend Jenine got through to relatives on the West Bank. Israeli tanks had commenced a bombardment there, right after the planes had struck New York. Family members spoke to her from under the kitchen table, where they were taking refuge from the shelling of their house. Then we gave ourselves over to television, like so many others around the world, even though these events were happening only a mile away. We wanted to hear official word, but there was just a huge absence—Bush was busy learning to read in Florida, then leading from the front in Louisiana and Nebraska. As the day wore on, we split up and regrouped, meeting folks. One guy was in the subway when smoke filled the car. Noone could breathe properly, people were screaming, and his only thought was for his dog DeNiro back in Brooklyn. From the panic of the train, he managed to call his mom on a cell to ask her to feed “DeNiro” that night, because it looked like he wouldn’t get home. A pregnant woman feared for her unborn as she fled the blasts, pushing the stroller with her baby in it as she did so. Away from these heart-rending tales from strangers, there was the fear: good grief, what horrible price would the US Government extract for this, and who would be the overt and covert agents and targets of that suffering? What blood-lust would this generate? What would be the pattern of retaliation and counter-retaliation? What would become of civil rights and cultural inclusiveness? So a jumble of emotions came forward, I assume in all of us. Anger was not there for me, just intense sorrow, shock, and fear, and the desire for intimacy. Network television appeared to offer me that, but in an ultimately unsatisfactory way. For I think I saw the end-result of reality TV that day. I have since decided to call this ‘emotionalization’—network TV’s tendency to substitute analysis of US politics and economics with a stress on feelings. Of course, powerful emotions have been engaged by this horror, and there is value in addressing that fact and letting out the pain. I certainly needed to do so. But on that day and subsequent ones, I looked to the networks, traditional sources of current-affairs knowledge, for just that—informed, multi-perspectival journalism that would allow me to make sense of my feelings, and come to a just and reasoned decision about how the US should respond. I waited in vain. No such commentary came forward. Just a lot of asinine inquiries from reporters that were identical to those they pose to basketballers after a game: Question—‘How do you feel now?’ Answer—‘God was with me today.’ For the networks were insistent on asking everyone in sight how they felt about the end of las torres gemelas. In this case, we heard the feelings of survivors, firefighters, viewers, media mavens, Republican and Democrat hacks, and vacuous Beltway state-of-the-nation pundits. But learning of the military-political economy, global inequality, and ideologies and organizations that made for our grief and loss—for that, there was no space. TV had forgotten how to do it. My principal feeling soon became one of frustration. So I headed back to where I began the day—The Guardian web site, where I was given insightful analysis of the messy factors of history, religion, economics, and politics that had created this situation. As I dealt with the tragedy of folks whose lives had been so cruelly lost, I pondered what it would take for this to stop. Or whether this was just the beginning. I knew one thing—the answers wouldn’t come from mainstream US television, no matter how full of feelings it was. And that made Toby anxious. And afraid. He still is. And so the dreams come. In one, I am suddenly furloughed from my job with an orchestra, as audience numbers tumble. I make my evening-wear way to my locker along with the other players, emptying it of bubble gum and instrument. The next night, I see a gigantic, fifty-feet high wave heading for the city beach where I’ve come to swim. Somehow I am sheltered behind a huge wall, as all the people around me die. Dripping, I turn to find myself in a media-stereotype “crack house” of the early ’90s—desperate-looking black men, endless doorways, sudden police arrival, and my earnest search for a passport that will explain away my presence. I awake in horror, to the realization that the passport was already open and stamped—racialization at work for Toby, every day and in every way, as a white man in New York City. Ana’s husband, Patrick, was at work ten miles from Manhattan when “it” happened. In the hallway, I overheard some talk about two planes crashing, but went to teach anyway in my usual morning stupor. This was just the usual chatter of disaster junkies. I didn’t hear the words, “World Trade Center” until ten thirty, at the end of the class at the college I teach at in New Jersey, across the Hudson river. A friend and colleague walked in and told me the news of the attack, to which I replied “You must be fucking joking.” He was a little offended. Students were milling haphazardly on the campus in the late summer weather, some looking panicked like me. My first thought was of some general failure of the air-traffic control system. There must be planes falling out of the sky all over the country. Then the height of the towers: how far towards our apartment in Greenwich Village would the towers fall? Neither of us worked in the financial district a mile downtown, but was Ana safe? Where on the college campus could I see what was happening? I recognized the same physical sensation I had felt the morning after Hurricane Andrew in Miami seeing at a distance the wreckage of our shattered apartment across a suburban golf course strewn with debris and flattened power lines. Now I was trapped in the suburbs again at an unbridgeable distance from my wife and friends who were witnessing the attacks first hand. Were they safe? What on earth was going on? This feeling of being cut off, my path to the familiar places of home blocked, remained for weeks my dominant experience of the disaster. In my office, phone calls to the city didn’t work. There were six voice-mail messages from my teenaged brother Alex in small-town England giving a running commentary on the attack and its aftermath that he was witnessing live on television while I dutifully taught my writing class. “Hello, Patrick, where are you? Oh my god, another plane just hit the towers. Where are you?” The web was choked: no access to newspapers online. Email worked, but no one was wasting time writing. My office window looked out over a soccer field to the still woodlands of western New Jersey: behind me to the east the disaster must be unfolding. Finally I found a website with a live stream from ABC television, which I watched flickering and stilted on the tiny screen. It had all already happened: both towers already collapsed, the Pentagon attacked, another plane shot down over Pennsylvania, unconfirmed reports said, there were other hijacked aircraft still out there unaccounted for. Manhattan was sealed off. George Washington Bridge, Lincoln and Holland tunnels, all the bridges and tunnels from New Jersey I used to mock shut down. Police actions sealed off the highways into “the city.” The city I liked to think of as the capital of the world was cut off completely from the outside, suddenly vulnerable and under siege. There was no way to get home. The phone rang abruptly and Alex, three thousand miles away, told me he had spoken to Ana earlier and she was safe. After a dozen tries, I managed to get through and spoke to her, learning that she and Toby had seen people jumping and then the second tower fall. Other friends had been even closer. Everyone was safe, we thought. I sat for another couple of hours in my office uselessly. The news was incoherent, stories contradictory, loops of the planes hitting the towers only just ready for recycling. The attacks were already being transformed into “the World Trade Center Disaster,” not yet the ahistorical singularity of the emergency “nine one one.” Stranded, I had to spend the night in New Jersey at my boss’s house, reminded again of the boundless generosity of Americans to relative strangers. In an effort to protect his young son from the as yet unfiltered images saturating cable and Internet, my friend’s TV set was turned off and we did our best to reassure. We listened surreptitiously to news bulletins on AM radio, hoping that the roads would open. Walking the dog with my friend’s wife and son we crossed a park on the ridge on which Upper Montclair sits. Ten miles away a huge column of smoke was rising from lower Manhattan, where the stunning absence of the towers was clearly visible. The summer evening was unnervingly still. We kicked a soccer ball around on the front lawn and a woman walked distracted by, shocked and pale up the tree-lined suburban street, suffering her own wordless trauma. I remembered that though most of my students were ordinary working people, Montclair is a well-off dormitory for the financial sector and high rises of Wall Street and Midtown. For the time being, this was a white-collar disaster. I slept a short night in my friend’s house, waking to hope I had dreamed it all, and took the commuter train in with shell-shocked bankers and corporate types. All men, all looking nervously across the river toward glimpses of the Manhattan skyline as the train neared Hoboken. “I can’t believe they’re making us go in,” one guy had repeated on the station platform. He had watched the attacks from his office in Midtown, “The whole thing.” Inside the train we all sat in silence. Up from the PATH train station on 9th street I came onto a carless 6th Avenue. At 14th street barricades now sealed off downtown from the rest of the world. I walked down the middle of the avenue to a newspaper stand; the Indian proprietor shrugged “No deliveries below 14th.” I had not realized that the closer to the disaster you came, the less information would be available. Except, I assumed, for the evidence of my senses. But at 8 am the Village was eerily still, few people about, nothing in the sky, including the twin towers. I walked to Houston Street, which was full of trucks and police vehicles. Tractor trailers sat carrying concrete barriers. Below Houston, each street into Soho was barricaded and manned by huddles of cops. I had walked effortlessly up into the “lockdown,” but this was the “frozen zone.” There was no going further south towards the towers. I walked the few blocks home, found my wife sleeping, and climbed into bed, still in my clothes from the day before. “Your heart is racing,” she said. I realized that I hadn’t known if I would get back, and now I never wanted to leave again; it was still only eight thirty am. Lying there, I felt the terrible wonder of a distant bystander for the first-hand witness. Ana’s face couldn’t tell me what she had seen. I felt I needed to know more, to see and understand. Even though I knew the effort was useless: I could never bridge that gap that had trapped me ten miles away, my back turned to the unfolding disaster. The television was useless: we don’t have cable, and the mast on top of the North Tower, which Ana had watched fall, had relayed all the network channels. I knew I had to go down and see the wreckage. Later I would realize how lucky I had been not to suffer from “disaster envy.” Unbelievably, in retrospect, I commuted into work the second day after the attack, dogged by the same unnerving sensation that I would not get back—to the wounded, humbled former center of the world. My students were uneasy, all talked out. I was a novelty, a New Yorker living in the Village a mile from the towers, but I was forty-eight hours late. Out of place in both places. I felt torn up, but not angry. Back in the city at night, people were eating and drinking with a vengeance, the air filled with acrid sicklysweet smoke from the burning wreckage. Eyes stang and nose ran with a bitter acrid taste. Who knows what we’re breathing in, we joked nervously. A friend’s wife had fallen out with him for refusing to wear a protective mask in the house. He shrugged a wordlessly reassuring smile. What could any of us do? I walked with Ana down to the top of West Broadway from where the towers had commanded the skyline over SoHo; downtown dense smoke blocked the view to the disaster. A crowd of onlookers pushed up against the barricades all day, some weeping, others gawping. A tall guy was filming the grieving faces with a video camera, which was somehow the worst thing of all, the first sign of the disaster tourism that was already mushrooming downtown. Across the street an Asian artist sat painting the street scene in streaky black and white; he had scrubbed out two white columns where the towers would have been. “That’s the first thing I’ve seen that’s made me feel any better,” Ana said. We thanked him, but he shrugged blankly, still in shock I supposed. On the Friday, the clampdown. I watched the Mayor and Police Chief hold a press conference in which they angrily told the stream of volunteers to “ground zero” that they weren’t needed. “We can handle this ourselves. We thank you. But we don’t need your help,” Commissioner Kerik said. After the free-for-all of the first couple of days, with its amazing spontaneities and common gestures of goodwill, the clampdown was going into effect. I decided to go down to Canal Street and see if it was true that no one was welcome anymore. So many paths through the city were blocked now. “Lock down, frozen zone, war zone, the site, combat zone, ground zero, state troopers, secured perimeter, national guard, humvees, family center”: a disturbing new vocabulary that seemed to stamp the logic of Giuliani’s sanitized and over-policed Manhattan onto the wounded hulk of the city. The Mayor had been magnificent in the heat of the crisis; Churchillian, many were saying—and indeed, Giuliani quickly appeared on the cover of Cigar Afficionado, complete with wing collar and the misquotation from Kipling, “Captain Courageous.” Churchill had not believed in peacetime politics either, and he never got over losing his empire. Now the regime of command and control over New York’s citizens and its economy was being stabilized and reimposed. The sealed-off, disfigured, and newly militarized spaces of the New York through which I have always loved to wander at all hours seemed to have been put beyond reach for the duration. And, in the new post-“9/11” post-history, the duration could last forever. The violence of the attacks seemed to have elicited a heavy-handed official reaction that sought to contain and constrict the best qualities of New York. I felt more anger at the clampdown than I did at the demolition of the towers. I knew this was unreasonable, but I feared the reaction, the spread of the racial harassment and racial profiling that I had already heard of from my students in New Jersey. This militarizing of the urban landscape seemed to negate the sprawling, freewheeling, boundless largesse and tolerance on which New York had complacently claimed a monopoly. For many the towers stood for that as well, not just as the monumental outposts of global finance that had been attacked. Could the American flag mean something different? For a few days, perhaps—on the helmets of firemen and construction workers. But not for long. On the Saturday, I found an unmanned barricade way east along Canal Street and rode my bike past throngs of Chinatown residents, by the Federal jail block where prisoners from the first World Trade Center bombing were still being held. I headed south and west towards Tribeca; below the barricades in the frozen zone, you could roam freely, the cops and soldiers assuming you belonged there. I felt uneasy, doubting my own motives for being there, feeling the blood drain from my head in the same numbing shock I’d felt every time I headed downtown towards the site. I looped towards Greenwich Avenue, passing an abandoned bank full of emergency supplies and boxes of protective masks. Crushed cars still smeared with pulverized concrete and encrusted with paperwork strewn by the blast sat on the street near the disabled telephone exchange. On one side of the avenue stood a horde of onlookers, on the other television crews, all looking two blocks south towards a colossal pile of twisted and smoking steel, seven stories high. We were told to stay off the street by long-suffering national guardsmen and women with southern accents, kids. Nothing happening, just the aftermath. The TV crews were interviewing worn-out, dust-covered volunteers and firemen who sat quietly leaning against the railings of a park filled with scraps of paper. Out on the West Side highway, a high-tech truck was offering free cellular phone calls. The six lanes by the river were full of construction machinery and military vehicles. Ambulances rolled slowly uptown, bodies inside? I locked my bike redundantly to a lamppost and crossed under the hostile gaze of plainclothes police to another media encampment. On the path by the river, two camera crews were complaining bitterly in the heat. “After five days of this I’ve had enough.” They weren’t talking about the trauma, bodies, or the wreckage, but censorship. “Any blue light special gets to roll right down there, but they see your press pass and it’s get outta here. I’ve had enough.” I fronted out the surly cops and ducked under the tape onto the path, walking onto a Pier on which we’d spent many lazy afternoons watching the river at sunset. Dust everywhere, police boats docked and waiting, a crane ominously dredging mud into a barge. I walked back past the camera operators onto the highway and walked up to an interview in process. Perfectly composed, a fire chief and his crew from some small town in upstate New York were politely declining to give details about what they’d seen at “ground zero.” The men’s faces were dust streaked, their eyes slightly dazed with the shock of a horror previously unimaginable to most Americans. They were here to help the best they could, now they’d done as much as anyone could. “It’s time for us to go home.” The chief was eloquent, almost rehearsed in his precision. It was like a Magnum press photo. But he was refusing to cooperate with the media’s obsessive emotionalism. I walked down the highway, joining construction workers, volunteers, police, and firemen in their hundreds at Chambers Street. No one paid me any attention; it was absurd. I joined several other watchers on the stairs by Stuyvesant High School, which was now the headquarters for the recovery crews. Just two or three blocks away, the huge jagged teeth of the towers’ beautiful tracery lurched out onto the highway above huge mounds of debris. The TV images of the shattered scene made sense as I placed them into what was left of a familiar Sunday afternoon geography of bike rides and walks by the river, picnics in the park lying on the grass and gazing up at the infinite solidity of the towers. Demolished. It was breathtaking. If “they” could do that, they could do anything. Across the street at tables military policeman were checking credentials of the milling volunteers and issuing the pink and orange tags that gave access to ground zero. Without warning, there was a sudden stampede running full pelt up from the disaster site, men and women in fatigues, burly construction workers, firemen in bunker gear. I ran a few yards then stopped. Other people milled around idly, ignoring the panic, smoking and talking in low voices. It was a mainly white, blue-collar scene. All these men wearing flags and carrying crowbars and flashlights. In their company, the intolerance and rage I associated with flags and construction sites was nowhere to be seen. They were dealing with a torn and twisted otherness that dwarfed machismo or bigotry. I talked to a moustachioed, pony-tailed construction worker who’d hitched a ride from the mid-west to “come and help out.” He was staying at the Y, he said, it was kind of rough. “Have you been down there?” he asked, pointing towards the wreckage. “You’re British, you weren’t in World War Two were you?” I replied in the negative. “It’s worse ’n that. I went down last night and you can’t imagine it. You don’t want to see it if you don’t have to.” Did I know any welcoming ladies? he asked. The Y was kind of tough. When I saw TV images of President Bush speaking to the recovery crews and steelworkers at “ground zero” a couple of days later, shouting through a bullhorn to chants of “USA, USA” I knew nothing had changed. New York’s suffering was subject to a second hijacking by the brokers of national unity. New York had never been America, and now its terrible human loss and its great humanity were redesignated in the name of the nation, of the coming war. The signs without a referent were being forcibly appropriated, locked into an impoverished patriotic framework, interpreted for “us” by a compliant media and an opportunistic regime eager to reign in civil liberties, to unloose its war machine and tighten its grip on the Muslim world. That day, drawn to the river again, I had watched F18 fighter jets flying patterns over Manhattan as Bush’s helicopters came in across the river. Otherwise empty of air traffic, “our” skies were being torn up by the military jets: it was somehow the worst sight yet, worse than the wreckage or the bands of disaster tourists on Canal Street, a sign of further violence yet to come. There was a carrier out there beyond New York harbor, there to protect us: the bruising, blustering city once open to all comers. That felt worst of all. In the intervening weeks, we have seen other, more unstable ways of interpreting the signs of September 11 and its aftermath. Many have circulated on the Internet, past the blockages and blockades placed on urban spaces and intellectual life. Karl-Heinz Stockhausen’s work was banished (at least temporarily) from the canon of avant-garde electronic music when he described the attack on las torres gemelas as akin to a work of art. If Jacques Derrida had described it as an act of deconstruction (turning technological modernity literally in on itself), or Jean Baudrillard had announced that the event was so thick with mediation it had not truly taken place, something similar would have happened to them (and still may). This is because, as Don DeLillo so eloquently put it in implicit reaction to the plaintive cry “Why do they hate us?”: “it is the power of American culture to penetrate every wall, home, life and mind”—whether via military action or cultural iconography. All these positions are correct, however grisly and annoying they may be. What GK Chesterton called the “flints and tiles” of nineteenth-century European urban existence were rent asunder like so many victims of high-altitude US bombing raids. As a First-World disaster, it became knowable as the first-ever US “ground zero” such precisely through the high premium immediately set on the lives of Manhattan residents and the rarefied discussion of how to commemorate the high-altitude towers. When, a few weeks later, an American Airlines plane crashed on take-off from Queens, that borough was left open to all comers. Manhattan was locked down, flown over by “friendly” bombers. In stark contrast to the open if desperate faces on the street of 11 September, people went about their business with heads bowed even lower than is customary. Contradictory deconstructions and valuations of Manhattan lives mean that September 11 will live in infamy and hyper-knowability. The vengeful United States government and population continue on their way. Local residents must ponder insurance claims, real-estate values, children’s terrors, and their own roles in something beyond their ken. New York had been forced beyond being the center of the financial world. It had become a military target, a place that was receiving as well as dispatching the slings and arrows of global fortune. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Deer, Patrick and Miller, Toby. "A Day That Will Live In … ?" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5.1 (2002). [your date of access] < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0203/adaythat.php>. Chicago Style Deer, Patrick and Miller, Toby, "A Day That Will Live In … ?" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5, no. 1 (2002), < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0203/adaythat.php> ([your date of access]). APA Style Deer, Patrick and Miller, Toby. (2002) A Day That Will Live In … ?. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5(1). < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0203/adaythat.php> ([your date of access]).
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
15

Taveira, Rodney. "Don DeLillo, 9/11 and the Remains of Fresh Kills." M/C Journal 13, no. 4 (2010). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.281.

Full text
Abstract:
It’s a portrait of grief, to be sure, but it puts grief in the air, as a cultural atmospheric, without giving us anything to mourn.—— Tom Junod, “The Man Who Invented 9/11”The nearly decade-long attempt by families of 9/11 victims to reclaim the remains of their relatives involves rhetorics of bodilessness, waste, and virtuality that offer startling illustrations of what might be termed “the poetics of grief.” After combining as the WTC Families for Proper Burial Inc. in 2002, the families sued the city of New York in 2005. They lost and the case has been under appeal since 2008. WTC Families is asking for nearly one million tons of material to be moved from the Fresh Kills landfill on Staten Island in order to sift it for human remains. These remains will then be reclaimed and interred: Proper Burial. But the matter is far less definitive. When a judge hearing the appeal asked how one would prove someone’s identity, the city’s lawyer replied, “You have to be able to particularise and say it’s your body. All that’s left here is a bunch of undifferentiated dust.” The reply “elicited gasps and muttered ‘no’s’ from a crowd whose members wore laminated photos of deceased victims” (Hughes). These laminated displays are an attempt by WTC Families to counteract the notion of the victims as “undifferentiated dust”; the protected, hermetic images are testimony to painful uncertainty, an (always) outmoded relic of the evidentiary self.In the face of such uncertainty, it was not only court audiences who waited for a particular response to the terrorist attacks. Adam Hirsch, reviewer for the New York Sun, claimed that “the writer whose September 11 novel seemed most necessary was Don DeLillo. Mr. DeLillo, more than any other novelist, has always worked at the intersection of public terror and private fear.” DeLillo’s prescience regarding the centrality of terrorism in American culture was noted by many critics in the aftermath of the attack on the World Trade Centre. The novelist even penned an essay for Harper’s in which he reflected on the role of the novelist in the new cultural landscape of the post-9/11 world. In an online book club exchange for Slate, Meghan O’Rourke says, “DeLillo seemed eerily primed to write a novel about the events of September 11. … Rereading some of his earlier books, including the terrorism-riddled Mao II, I wondered, half-seriously, if Mohamed Atta and crew had been studying DeLillo.” If there was any writer who might have been said to have seen it coming it was DeLillo. The World Trade Center had figured in his novels before the 9/11 attacks. The twin towers are a primary landmark in Underworld, gracing the cover of the novel in ghostly black and white. In Players (1977), a Wall Street worker becomes involved in a terrorist plot to bomb the New York Stock exchange and his wife works in the WTC for the “Grief Management Council”—“Where else would you stack all this grief?” (18).ClassificationsAs the WTC Families for Proper Burial Inc. trial demonstrates, the reality of the terrorist attacks of September 11 offered an altogether more macabre and less poetic reality than DeLillo’s fiction had depicted. The Fresh Kills landfill serves in Underworld as a metaphor for the accumulated history of Cold War America in the last half-century. Taking in the “man-made mountain,” waste management executive Brian Glassic thinks, “It was science fiction and prehistory”; seeing the World Trade Center in the distance, “he sensed a poetic balance between that idea and this one” (Underworld 184). But the poetic balance DeLillo explores in the 1997 novel has been sundered by the obliteration of the twin towers. Fresh Kills and the WTC are now united by a disquieting grief. The landfill, which closed in 2001, was forced to reopen when the towers collapsed to receive their waste. Fresh Kills bears molecular witness to this too-big collective trauma. “‘They commingled it, and then they dumped it,’ Mr. Siegel [lawyer for WTC Families] said of the remains being mixed with household trash, adding that a Fresh Kills worker had witnessed city employees use that mixture to fill potholes” (Hughes). The revelation is obscene: Are we walking and driving over our dead? The commingling of rubble and human remains becomes a collective (of) contamination too toxic, too overwhelming for conventional comprehension. “You can’t even consider the issue of closure until this issue has been resolved,” says the lawyer representing WTC Families (Hartocollis).Nick Shay, Underworld’s main character, is another waste executive who travels the world to observe ways of dealing with garbage. Of shopping with his wife, Nick says, “Marion and I saw products as garbage even when they sat gleaming on store shelves, yet unbought. We didn’t say, What kind of casserole will that make? We said, What kind of garbage will that make?” (121). This attests to the virtuality of waste, a potentiality of the products – commercial, temporal, biological – that comprise the stuff of contemporary American culture. Synecdoche and metonymy both, waste becomes the ground of hysteron proteron, the rhetorical figure that disorders time and makes the future always present. Like (its) Fresh Kills, waste is science fiction and prehistory.Repeating the apparent causal and temporal inversion of hysteron proteron, Nick’s son Jeff uses his home computer to access a simultaneous future and past that is the internal horizon of Underworld’s historical fiction. Jeff has previously been using his computer to search for something in the video footage of the “Texas Highway Killer,” a serial murderer who randomly shoots people on Texan highways. Jeff tries to resolve the image so that the pixels will yield more, exposing their past and future. “He was looking for lost information. He enhanced and super-slowed, trying to find some pixel in the data swarm that might provide a clue to the identity of the shooter” (118). Searching for something more, something buried, Jeff, like WTC Families, is attempting to redeem the artifactual and the overlooked by reconfiguring them as identity. DeLillo recognises this molecular episteme through the “dot theory of reality”: “Once you get inside a dot, you gain access to hidden information, you slide inside the smallest event. This is what technology does. It peels back the shadows and redeems the dazed and rambling past. It makes reality come true” (177). Like the gleaming supermarket products Nick and Marion see as garbage, the unredeemed opens onto complex temporal and rhetorical orders. Getting inside garbage is like getting “inside a dot.” This approach is not possible for the unplanned waste of 9/11. Having already lost its case, WTC Families will almost certainly lose its appeal because its categories and its means are unworkable and inapplicable: they cannot particularise.PremonitionsIn his 9/11 essay “In the Ruins of the Future,” published in Harper’s a few months after the attacks, DeLillo says “We are all breathing the fumes of lower Manhattan where traces of the dead are everywhere, in the soft breeze off the river, on rooftops and windows, in our hair and on our clothes” (39). DeLillo‘s portrait of molecular waste adumbrates the need to create “counternarratives.” Until the events of 11 September 2001 the American narrative was that of the Cold War, and thus also the narrative of Underworld; one for which DeLillo claims the Bush administration was feeling nostalgic. “This is over now,” he says. “The narrative ends in the rubble and it is left to us to create the counternarrative” (34).DeLillo was already at work on a narrative of his own at the time of the terrorist attacks. As Joseph Conte notes, when the World Trade Center was attacked, “DeLillo, had nearly finished drafting his thirteenth novel, Cosmopolis [… and] shared in the collective seizure of the American mind” (179). And while it was released in 2003, DeLillo sets the novel in 2000 on “a day in April.” If the millennium, the year 2000, has been as Boxall claims the horizon of DeLillo’s writing, the tagging of this “day in April” at the beginning of the novel signals Cosmopolis as a limit-work (4). 9/11 functions as a felt absence in the novel, a binding thing floating in the air, like the shirt that DeLillo will use to begin and end Falling Man; a story that will ‘go beyond’ the millennial limit, a story that is, effectively, the counternarrative of which DeLillo speaks in his 9/11 essay. Given the timing of the terrorist attacks in New York, and DeLillo’s development of his novel, it is extraordinary to consider just how Cosmopolis reflects on its author’s position as a man who should have “seen it coming.” The billionaire protagonist Eric Packer traverses Manhattan by car, his journey a bifurcation between sophistication and banality. Along the way he has an onanistic sexual encounter whilst having his prostate examined, hacks into and deletes his wife’s old money European fortune, loses his own self-made wealth by irrationally betting against the rise of the yen, kills a man, and shoots himself in the hand in front of his assassin. Eric actively moves toward his own death. Throughout Eric’s journey the socially binding integrity of the present and the future is teased apart. He continually sees images of future events before they occur – putting his hand on his chin, a bomb explosion, and finally, his own murder – via video screens in his car and wristwatch. These are, as Conte rightly notes, repeated instances of hysteron proteron (186). His corpse does not herald obsolescence but begins the true life of waste: virtual information. Or, as Eric’s “Chief of Theory” asks, “Why die when you can live on a disk?” (106). There are shades here of Jeff’s pixelated excursion into the video footage of the Texas Highway Killer: “Once you get inside a dot, you gain access to hidden information.” Life at this level is not only virtual, it is particularised, a point (or a collection of points) Eric comes to grasp during the protracted scene in which he watches himself die: “The stuff he sneezes when he sneezes, this is him” (207). In Falling Man, the work in which DeLillo engages directly with the 9/11 attack, the particularised body recurs in various forms. First there is the (now iconic) falling man: the otherwise unknown victim of the terrorist attack who leapt from the WTC and whose descent was captured in a photograph by Richard Drew. This figure was named (particularised) by Tom Junod (who provides the epigram for this essay) as “The Falling Man.” In DeLillo’s novel another Falling Man, a performance artist, re-enacts the moment by jumping off buildings, reiterating the photograph (back) into a bodily performance. In these various incarnations the falling man is serially particularised: photographed, named, then emulated. The falling man is a single individual, and multiple copies. He lives on long after death and so does his trauma. He represents the poetic expression of collective grief. Particularised bodies also infect the terror narrative of Falling Man at a molecular level. Falling Man’s terrorist, Hammad, achieves a similar life-after-death by becoming “organic shrapnel.” The surviving victims of the suicide bomb attack, months later, begin to display signs of the suicide bombers in lumps and sores emerging from their bodies, too-small bits of the attacker forever incorporated. Hammad is thus paired with the victims of the crash in a kind of disseminative and absorptive (rhetorical) structure. “The world changes first in the mind of the man who wants to change it. The time is coming, our truth, our shame, and each man becomes the other, and the other still another, and then there is no separation” (80). RevisionsThe traces of American culture that were already contained in the landfill in Underworld have now become the resting place of the dust and the bodies of the trauma of 9/11. Rereading DeLillo’s magnum opus one cannot help but be struck by the new resonance of Fresh Kills.The landfill showed him smack-on how the waste stream ended, where all the appetites and hankerings, the sodden second thoughts came runneling out, the things you wanted ardently and then did not…. He knew the stench must ride the wind into every dining room for miles around. When people heard a noise at night, did they think the heap was coming down around them, sliding toward their homes, an omnivorous movie terror filling their doorways and windows?The wind carried the stink across the kill…. The biggest secrets are the ones spread before us. (184-5)The landfill looms large on the landscape, a huge pile of evidence for the mass trauma of what remains, those that remain, and what may come—waste in all its virtuality. The “omnivorous movie terror filling their doorways and windows” is a picture of dust-blanketed Downtown NYC that everybody, everywhere, continually saw. The mediatory second sight of sifting the landfill, of combing the second site of the victims for its “sodden second thoughts,” is at once something “you wanted ardently and then did not.” The particles are wanted as a distillate, produced by the frameline of an intentional, processual practice that ‘edits’ 9/11 and its aftermath into a less unacceptable sequence that might allow the familiar mourning ritual of burying a corpse. WTC Families Inc. is seeking to throw the frame of human identity around the unincorporated particles of waste in the Fresh Kills landfill, an unbearably man-made, million-ton mountain. This operation is an attempt to immure the victims and their families from the attacks and its afterlife as waste or recycled material, refusing the ever-present virtual life of waste that always accompanied them. Of course, even if WTC Families is granted its wish to sift Fresh Kills, how can it differentiate its remains from those of the 9/11 attackers? The latter have a molecular, virtual afterlife in the present and the living, lumpy reminders that surface as foreign bodies.Resisting the city’s drive to rebuild and move on, WTC Families for Proper Burial Inc. is absorbed with the classification of waste rather than its deployment. In spite of the group’s failed court action, the Fresh Kills site will still be dug over: a civil works project by the NYC Department of Parks & Recreation will reclaim the landfill and rename it “Freshkills Park,” a re-creational area to be twice the size of Central Park—As DeLillo foresaw, “The biggest secrets are the ones spread before us.”ReferencesBoxall, Peter. Don DeLillo: The Possibility of Fiction. London: Routledge, 2006.Conte, Joseph M. “Writing amid the Ruins: 9/11 and Cosmopolis”. The Cambridge Companion to Don DeLillo. Ed. John N. Duvall. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008. 179-192.Cowart, David. Don DeLillo: The Physics of Language. Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2003.DeLillo, Don. Players. London: Vintage, 1991.———. Mao II. London: Vintage, 1992.———. Underworld. London: Picador, 1997.———. “In the Ruins of the Future”. Harper’s. Dec. 2001: 33-40.———. Cosmopolis. London: Picador, 2003.———. Falling Man. New York: Scribner, 2007.Hartocollis, Anemona. “Landfill Has 9/11 Remains, Medical Examiner Wrote”. 24 Mar. 2007. The New York Times. 7 Mar. 2009 ‹http://www.nytimes.com/2007/03/24%20/nyregion/24remains.html›. Hirsch, Adam. “DeLillo Confronts September 11”. 2 May 2007. The New York Sun. 10 May 2007 ‹http://www.nysun.com/arts/delillo-confronts-september-11/53594/›.Hughes, C. J. “9/11 Families Press Judges on Sifting at Landfill”. 16 Dec. 2009. The New York Times. 17 Dec. 2009 ‹http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/17/nyregion/17sift.html›.Junod, Tom. “The Man Who Invented 9/11”. 7 May 2007. Rev. of Falling Man by Don DeLillo. Esquire. 28 May 2007 ‹http://www.esquire.com/fiction/book-review/delillo›.O’Rourke, Meghan. “DeLillo Seemed Almost Eerily Primed to Write a Novel about 9/11”. 23 May 2007. Slate.com. 28 May 2007 ‹http://www.slate.com/id/2166831/%20entry/2166848/›.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
16

Farrell, Nathan. "From Activist to Entrepreneur: Peace One Day and the Changing Persona of the Social Campaigner." M/C Journal 17, no. 3 (2014). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.801.

Full text
Abstract:
This article analyses the public persona of Jeremy Gilley, a documentary filmmaker, peace campaigner, and the founder of the organisation Peace One Day (POD). It begins by outlining how Gilley’s persona is presented in a manner which resonates with established archetypes of social campaigners, and how this creates POD’s legitimacy among grassroots organisations. I then describe a distinct, but not inconsistent, facet of Gilley’s persona which speaks specifically to entrepreneurs. The article outlines how Gilley’s individuality works to simultaneously address these overlapping audiences and argues that his persona can be read as an articulation of social entrepreneurship. Gilley represents an example of a public personality working to “crystallise issues and to normativise debates” (Marshall “Personifying” 370) concerning corporate involvement with non-profit organisations and the marketisation of the non-profit sector. Peace One Day (POD) is a UK-based non-profit organisation established in 1999 by actor-turned-documentary-filmmaker Jeremy Gilley. In the 1990s, while filming a documentary about global conflict, Gilley realised there was no internationally recognised day of ceasefire and non-violence. He created POD to found such a day and began lobbying the United Nations. In 2001, the 111th plenary meeting of the General Assembly passed a resolution which marked 21 September as the annual International Day of Peace (United Nations). Since 2001, POD has worked to create global awareness of Peace Day. By 2006, other NGOs began using the day to negotiate 24-hour ceasefires in various conflict zones, allowing them to carry out work in areas normally too dangerous to enter. For example, in 2007, the inoculation of 1.3 million Afghan children against polio was possible due to an agreement from the Taliban to allow safe passage to agencies working in the country during the day. This was repeated in subsequent years and, by 2009, 4.5 million children had been immunised (POD Part Three). While neither POD nor Gilley played a direct part in the polio vaccination programmes or specific ceasefires, his organisation acted as a catalyst for such endeavours and these initiatives would not have occurred without POD’s efforts.Gilley is not only the founder of POD, he is also the majority shareholder, key decision-maker, and predominant public spokesperson in this private, non-charitable, non-profit organisation (Frances 73). While POD’s celebrity supporters participate in press conferences, it is Gilley who does most to raise awareness. His public persona is inextricably linked with POD and is created through a range of presentational media with which he is engaged. These include social media content, regular blogposts on POD’s website, as well as appearances at a series of speaking events. Most significantly, Gilley establishes his public persona through a number of documentary films (Peace One Day; Day After; POD Part Three), which are shot largely from his perspective and narrated by his voiceover, and which depict POD’s key struggles and successes.The Peace Campaigner as an Activist and Entrepreneur In common with other non-profit organisations, POD relies on celebrities from the entertainment industries. It works with them in two key ways: raising the public profile of the organisation, and shaping the public persona of its founder by inviting comparisons of their perceived exceptionalness with his ostensible ordinariness. For example, Gilley’s documentaries depict various press conferences held by POD over a number of years. Those organised prior to POD recruiting celebrity spokespeople were “completely ignored by the media” whereas those held after celebrity backing from Jude Law and Angelina Jolie had been secured attracted considerable interest (Day After). Gilley explains his early difficulties in publicising his message by suggesting that he “was a nobody” (POD Part Three). This representation as a “nobody” or, more diplomatically, as “ordinary,” is a central component of Gilley’s persona. “Ordinariness” here means situating Gilley outside the political and entertainment elites and aligning him with more everyday suburban settings. This is done through a combination of the aesthetic qualities of his public presentation and his publically narrated back-story.Aesthetically speaking, Gilley presents his ordinariness through his casual attire and long hair. His appearance is similar to the campaigners, youth groups and school children he addresses, suggesting he is a representative of that demographic but also distancing him from political elites. The diplomats Gilley meets, such as those at the UN, wear the appropriate attire for their elite political setting: suits. In one key scene in the documentary Peace One Day, Gilley makes his first trip to the UN to meet Kofi Annan, UN General Secretary at the time, and appears at their doors clean cut and suitably dressed. He declares that his new appearance was designed to aid his credibility with the UN. Yet, at the same time, he makes explicit that he borrowed the suit from a friend and the tie from his grandfather and, prior to the meeting, it was decided, “the pony tail had to go.” Thus Gilley seeks the approval of both political elites and the ordinary public, and constructs a persona that speaks to both, though he aligns himself with the latter.Gilley’s back-story permeates his films and works to present his ordinariness. For example, POD has humble beginnings as an almost grassroots, family-run organisation, and Gilley depicts a campaign run on a shoestring from his mother’s spare bedroom in an ordinary suburban home. Although British Airways provided free flights from the organisation’s outset, Gilley shows his friends volunteering their time by organising fundraising events. POD’s modest beginnings are reflected in its founder, who confides about both his lack of formal education and lack of success as an actor (Day After). This “ordinariness” is constructed in opposition to the exceptional qualities of POD’s A-list celebrity backers—such as Angelina Jolie, who does enjoy success as an actor. This contrast is emphasised by inviting Jolie into Gilley’s everyday domestic setting and highlighting the icons of success she brings with her. For example, at his first meeting with Jolie, Gilley waits patiently for her and remarks about the expensive car which eventually arrives outside his house, denoting Jolie’s arrival. He notes in the voiceover to his The Day after Peace documentary, “this was unbelievable, Angelina Jolie sat on my sofa asking me what she could do, I couldn’t stop talking. I was so nervous.”Gilley promotes his ordinariness by using aesthetics and personal narrative. Evidence of how he struggled to realise his goals and the financial burdens he carried (Peace One Day) suggest that there is something authentic about Gilley’s vision for Peace Day. This also helps Gilley to align his public persona with common understandings of the political activist as a prophetic social visionary. POD is able to tap into the idea of the power of the individual as a force for change with references to Martin Luther King and Gandhi. Although Gilley makes no direct comparison between himself and these figures, blog entries such as “ten years ago, I had an idea; I dared to dream that I could galvanise the countries of the world to recognise an official day of ceasefire and nonviolence. Mad? Ambitious? Idealistic? All of the above” (Gilley “Dream”), invite comparisons with King’s “I Have a Dream” speech. This is further augmented by references to Gilley as an outsider to political establishments, such as the UN, which he is sure have “become cynical about the opportunity” they have to unite the world (BBC Interview).Interestingly, Gilley’s presentation as a pragmatic “change-maker” whose “passion is contagious” (Ahmad Fawzi, in POD Concert) also aligns him with a second figure: the entrepreneur. Where Gilley’s performances at school and community groups present his persona as an activist, his entrepreneur persona is presented through his performances at a series of business seminars. These seminars, entitled “Unleash Your Power of Influence,” are targeted towards young entrepreneurs and business-people very much consistent with the “creative class” demographic (Florida). The speakers, including Gilley, have all been successful in business (POD is a private company) and they offer to their audiences motivational presentations, and business advice. Although a semi-regular occurrence, it is the first two events held in July 2010 (Unleash 1) and November 2010 (Unleash 2) that are discussed here. Held in a luxury five-star London hotel, the events demonstrate a starkly different aspect of POD than that presented to community groups and schools, and the amateur grassroots ethic presented in Gilley’s documentary films—for example, tickets for Unleash 2 started at £69 and offered ‘goody bags’ for £95 (author’s observation of the event)—yet consistencies remain.Aesthetically speaking, Gilley’s appearance signifies a connection with these innovative, stereotypically young, founders of start-up companies and where Gilley is an outsider to political organisations; they are outsiders to business establishments. Further, many of these companies typically started, like POD, in a spare bedroom. The speakers at the Unleash events provide insights into their background which frequently demonstrate a rise from humble beginnings to business success, in the face of adversity, and as a result of innovation and perseverance. Gilley is not out of place in this environment and the modest beginnings of POD are relayed to his audience in a manner which bears a striking similarity to his for-profit counterparts.An analysis of Gilley’s presentations at these events demonstrates clear links between the dual aspects of Gilley’s public persona, the political economy of POD, and the underlying philosophy of the organisation—social entrepreneurship. The next section sets out some of the principals of social entrepreneurship and how the aspects of Gilley’s persona, outlined above, reinforce these.Personifying Social EnterpriseGenerally speaking, the business literature greatly emphasises entrepreneurs as “resourceful, value-creating change agents” who are “never satisfied with the status quo [... and are] a forceful engine of growth in our economy” (Dees and Economy 3-4). More recently, the focus of discussion has included social entrepreneurs. These individuals work within “an organisation that attacks [social and environmental] problems through a business format, even if it is not legally structured as a profit-seeking entity” (Bornstein and Davis xv) and advocate commercially oriented non-profit organisations that establish “win-win” relationships between non-profits and business.This coming together of the for- and non-profit sectors has range of precedents, most notably in “philanthrocapitalism” (Bishop and Green) and the types of partnerships established between corporations and environmentalists, such as Greenpeace Australia (Beder). However, philanthrocapitalism often encompasses the application of business methods to social problems by those who have amassed fortunes in purely commercial ventures (such as Bill Gates), and Beder’s work describes established for- and non-profit institutions working together. While social entrepreneurship overlaps with these, social entrepreneurs seek to do well by doing good by making a profit while simultaneously realising social goals (Bornstein and Davis 25).Read as an articulation of the coming together of the activist and the entrepreneur, Gilley’s individuality encapsulates the social enterprise movement. His persona draws from the commonalities between the archetypes of the traditional grassroots activist and start-up entrepreneur, as pioneering visionary and outsider to the establishment. While his films establish his authenticity among politically attuned members of the public, his appearances at the Unleash events work to signify the legitimacy of his organisation to those who identify with social entrepreneurialism and take the position that business should play a positive role in social causes. As an activist, Gilley’s creates his persona through his aesthetic qualities and a performance that draws on historical precedents of social prophets. As an entrepreneur, Gilley draws on the same aesthetic qualities and, through his performance, mitigates the types of disjuncture evident in the 1980s between environmental activists, politicians and business leaders, when environmentalist’s narratives “were perceived as flaky and failed to transform” (Robèrt 7). To do this, Gilley reconstitutes social and environmental problems (such as conflict) within a market metric, and presents the market as a viable and efficient solution. Consequently, Gilley asserts that “we live in a culture of war because war makes money, we need to live in a culture of peace,” and this depends on “if we can make it economical, if we can make the numbers add up” (Unleash).Social enterprises often eschew formal charity and Gilley is consistent with this when he states that “for me, I think it has to be about business. [...] I think if it’s about charity it’s not going to work for me.” Gilley asserts that partnerships with corporations are essential as “our world is going to change, when the corporate sector becomes engaged.” He, therefore, “want[s] to work with large corporations” in order to “empower individuals to be involved in the process of [creating] a more peaceful and sustainable world” (Unleash). One example of POD’s success in this regard is a co-venture with Coca-Cola.To coincide with Peace Day in 2007, POD and Coca-Cola entered into a co-branding exercise which culminated in a sponsorship deal with the POD logo printed on Coca-Cola packaging. Prior to this, Gilley faced a desperate financial situation and conceded that the only alternative to a co-venture with Coca-Cola was shutting down POD (Day After). While Coca-Cola offered financial support and the potential to spread Gilley’s message through the medium of the Coke can, POD presumably offered good publicity to a corporation persistently the target of allegations of unethical practice (for example, Levenson-Estrada; Gill; Thomas). Gilley was aware of the potential image problems caused by a venture with Coke but accepted the partnership on pragmatic grounds, and with the proviso that Coke’s sponsorship not accompany any attempt to influence POD. Gilley, in effect, was using Coca-Cola, displaying the political independence of the social visionary and the pragmatism of the entrepreneur. By the same token, Coca-Cola was using POD to garner positive publicity, demonstrating the nature of this “win-win” relationship.In his film, Gilley consults Ray C. Anderson, social enterprise proponent, about his ethical concerns. Anderson explains the merits of working with Coke. In his Unleash addresses, such ethical considerations do not feature. Instead, it is relayed that Coca-Cola executives were looking to become involved with a social campaign, consistent with the famous 1970s hilltop advertisement of “teaching the world to sing in harmony.” From a meeting at Coca-Cola’s headquarters in Atlanta, Gilley reveals, a correlation emerged between Gilley’s emphasis on Peace Day as a moment of global unity—encapsulated by his belief that “the thing about corporations [...] the wonderful thing about everybody […] is that everybody’s just like us” (Unleash)—and the image of worldwide harmony that Coca-Cola wanted to portray. It is my contention that Gilley’s public persona underpinned the manner in which this co-branding campaign emerged. This is because his persona neatly tied the profit motive of the corporation to the socially spirited nature of the campaign, and spoke to Coca-Cola in a manner relatable to the market. At the same time, it promoted a social campaign premised on an inclusiveness that recast the corporation as a concerned global citizen, and the social campaigner as a free-market agent.Persona in the Competitive Non-Profit SectorThrough a series of works P. David Marshall charts the increasing centrality of individuality as “one of the ideological mainstays of consumer capitalism [...and] equally one of the ideological mainstays of how democracy is conceived” (Marshall “New Media-New Self” 635). Celebrity, accordingly, can be thought of as a powerful discourse that works “to make the cultural centrality of individuality concretely real” (Marshall “New Media-New Self” 635). Beyond celebrity, Marshall offers a wider framework that maps how “personalisation, individuality, and the move from the private to the public are now part of the wider populace rather than just at play in the representational field of celebrity” (Marshall, “Persona” 158). This framework includes fundamental changes to the global, specifically Western, labour market that, while not a fait accompli, point to a more competitive environment in which “greater portions of the culture are engaged in regular—probably frequent—selling of themselves” and where self-promotion becomes a key tool (Marshall, “Persona” 158). Therefore, while consumerism comprises a backdrop to the proliferation of celebrity culture, competition within market capitalism contributes to the wider expansion of personalisation and individualism.The non-profit sector is also a competitive environment. UK studies have found an increase in the number of International NGOs of 46.6% from 1995/6-2005/6 (Anheier, Kaldor, and Glasius. 310). At the same time, the number of large charities (with an income greater than £10 million) rose, between 1999-2013, from 307 to 1,005 and their annual income rose from approximately £10bn to £36bn (Charity Commission). These quantitative changes in the sector have occurred alongside qualitative changes in terms of the orientation of individual organisations. For example, Epstein and Gang describe a non-profit sector in which NGOs compete against each other for funds from aid donors (state and private). It is unclear whether “aid will be allocated properly, say to the poorest or to maximize the social welfare” or to the “efficient aid-seekers” (294)—that is, NGOs with the greatest competitive capabilities. A market for public awareness has also emerged and, in an increasingly crowded non-profit sector, it is clearly important for organisations to establish a public profile that can gain attention.It is in this competitive environment that the public personae of activists become assets for NGOs, and Gilley constitutes a successful example of this. His persona demonstrates an organisation’s response to the competitive nature of the non-profit sector, by appealing to both traditional activist circles and the business sector, and articulating the social enterprise movement. Gilley effectively embodies social entrepreneurship—in his appearance, his performance and his back-story—bridging a gap between the for- and non-profit sectors. His persona helps legitimate efforts to recast the activist as an entrepreneur (and conversely, entrepreneurs as activists) by incorporating activist ideals (in this instance, peace) within a market framework. This, to return to Marshall’s argument, crystallises the issue of peace within market metrics such and normativises debates about the role of corporate actors as global citizens, presenting it as pragmatism and therefore “common sense.” This is not to undermine Gilley’s achievements but, instead, to point out how reading his public persona enables an understanding of efforts to marketise the non-profit sector and align peace activism with corporate power.References Anheier, Helmut K., Mary Kaldor, and Marlies Glasius. Global Civil Society 2006/7. London: Sage, 2007.BBC Storyville. Director Interview: Jeremy Gilley. BBC. 2004. 7 Feb. 2010.Beder, Sharon. Global Spin: The Corporate Assault on Environmentalism. Totnes, UK: Green Books, 2002.Bishop, Matthew, and Michael Green. Philanthrocapitalism. London: A&C Black, 2008.Bornstein, David, and Susan Davis. Social Entrepreneurship: What Everyone Needs to Know. New York: Oxford University Press, 2010.Charity Commission for England and Wales. “Sector Facts and Figures.” N.d. 5 Apr 2014.Day after Peace, The. Dir. Jeremy Gilley. Peace One Day, 2008.Dees, J. Gregory, and Peter Economy. "Social Entrepreneurship." Enterprising Nonprofits: A Toolkit for Social Entrepreneurs. Eds. J. Gregory Dees, Jed Emerson, and Peter Economy. New York: Wiley, 2001. 1-18.Epstein, Gil S., and Ira N. Gang. “Contests, NGOs, and Decentralizing Aid.” Review of Development Economics 10. 2 (2006): 285-296.Florida, Richard. The Flight of the Creative Class: The New Global Competition for Talent. New York: Harper Business, 2006.Frances, Nic. The End of Charity: Time for Social Enterprise. New South Wales: Allen & Unwin, 2008.Fraser, Nick. “Can One Man Persuade the World, via the UN, to Sanction a Global Ceasefire Day?” BBC. 2005. 7 Feb. 2010.Gill, Leslie. “Labor and Human Rights: The ‘Real Thing’ in Colombia.” Transforming Anthropology 13.2 (2005): 110-115.Gilley, Jeremy. “Dream One Day.” Peace One Day. 2009. 23 Jun 2010.Levenson-Estrada, Deborah. Trade Unionists against Terror: Guatemala City, 1954-1985. Chapel Hill: U of North Carolina P, 1994.Marshall, P. David. Celebrity and Power. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2001.Marshall, P. David. “Intimately Intertwined in the Most Public Way: Celebrity and Journalism.” The Celebrity Culture Reader. Ed. P. David Marshall. Oxon: Routledge, 2006. 316-323.Marshall, P. David. “New Media – New Self: The Changing Power of Celebrity.” The Celebrity Culture Reader. Ed. P. David. Marshall. Oxon: Routledge, 2006. 634-644.Marshall, P. David. “Personifying Agency: The Public–Persona–Place–Issue Continuum.” Celebrity Studies 4.3 (2013): 369-371.Marshall, P. David. “Persona Studies: Mapping the Proliferation of the Public Self.” Journalism 15.2 (2014): 153-170.Newsnight. BBC 2. 20 Sep. 2010. 22.30-23.00.Peace One Day. Dir. Jeremy Gilley. Peace One Day, 2004.Peace One Day Concert: Live at the Royal Albert Hall Gilley. Dir. Jeremy Gilley. Peace One Day, 2008.Peace One Day Part Three. Dir. Jeremy Gilley. Peace One Day, 2010.Robèrt, Karl-Henrik. The Natural Step: Seeding a Quiet Revolution. Gabriola Island, British Columbia: New Society Publishers, 2002.Thomas, Mark. Belching Out the Devil: Global Adventure with Coca-Cola. London: Ebury Press, 2008.United Nations General Assembly. “International Day of Peace. A/RES/55/282" 111th Plenary Meeting. 2001. 10 June 2014 ‹http://www.un.org/en/ga/search/view_doc.asp?symbol=A/RES/55/282&Lang=E›.Unleash Your Power of Influence. Triumphant Events and Peace One Day. 2010.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
We offer discounts on all premium plans for authors whose works are included in thematic literature selections. Contact us to get a unique promo code!