Journal articles on the topic 'Hout Bay river (South Africa)'

The genus Tsitsikamma Samaai & Kelly, 2002 is to date exclusively reported from South Africa. Three species are known from the southern coast: Tsitsikamma favus Samaai & Kelly, 2002, from the Garden Route National Park Tsitsikamma Marine Protected Area (MPA) and Algoa Bay; T. pedunculata Samaai, Gibbons, Kelly and Davies-Coleman, 2003, collected from Cape Recife in St. Francis Bay, and T. scurra Samaai, Gibbons, Kelly and Davies-Coleman, 2003, collected from a wreck site in a small bay west of Hout Bay on the west coast of South Africa. Here two new species are described: Tsitsikamma michaeli Parker-Nance, sp. nov., a small green purse-like species, collected from Algoa Bay, and Tsitsikamma nguni Parker-Nance, sp. nov., from The Garden Route National Park, Tsitsikamma MPA. Additional morphological characteristics, spicule morphology, and distribution records are provided for T. favus and T. pedunculata from Algoa Bay. The phylogenetic relationship of these five Tsitsikamma species is investigated.

Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to identify hazard risks and factors impeding the implementation of disaster risk management policies and strategies in Dontse Yakhe in Hout Bay, South Africa. Design/methodology/approach – A case study approach was selected for this research. Interviews were conducted with community leaders and other relevant government and civil society stakeholders. Insights and perceptions of Dontse Yakhe residents were obtained from a focus group interview. Secondary data sources were reviewed and field observations made. Findings – The findings reveal a number of key risks and a complex web of geographical, political, social and environmental factors, and stakeholder interactions, prioritisations and decision making that has created barriers to the implementation of the aims and objectives of disaster risk management policies and strategies in Dontse Yakhe. Originality/value – The contribution of the research is that it provides insight into the complex factors that are stalling development and infrastructure provision, and implementation of risk reduction strategies, in Dontse Yakhe as outlined in disaster risk management policies and strategies, demonstrating a gap between policy rhetoric and practice.

Abstract Manganese oxyhydroxide mineralization is widespread in the Constantiaberg Massif. It is largely hosted by west-northwest – east-southeast trending brittle structures in the competent Ordovician arenites of the Peninsula Formation of the Cape Supergroup. Manganese is also found impregnating more porous Peninsula Formation arenites and Quaternary scree. This study proposes that the more significant deposits at Hout Bay and Constantiaberg differ from most of the mineralization in that they are spatially associated with saprolithic dolerite dykes belonging to the 132 Ma False Bay dolerite dyke swarm. It is suggested that this deep weathering may be related to a Miocene palaeo-landsurface, yielding a maximum age for these more important Mn deposits. However, there is evidence for mineralization of different ages through the Quaternary Period. Apart from Mn-mineralization hosted by rare breccias containing hydrothermal quartz, most of the mineralization is supergene, having been leached and transported in reduced acidic groundwater and precipitated at or near a redox front in a near-surface environment.

Jasus lalandii (Milne-Edwards 1837), the west-coast rock lobster, occurs in the shallow, cool–temperate waters along the south and west coasts of southern Africa. This species has a long history of intensive exploitation, which has had a significant impact on population numbers in the past. To enhance our current understanding of lobster population structuring, genetic data from the mitochondrial (mt) DNA 16S rRNA gene was generated for 235 adult individuals collected at eight sampling sites. Most individuals (59.6%) share a common haplotype and 35 unique haplotypes were dispersed throughout the range. In total, 97.2% of the variation was found among individuals within sampling sites and 2.8% was among sites. Pairwise ΦST analyses revealed shallow, yet significant structure between Hout Bay individuals and some other sampling sites. The J. lalandii haplotype network indicates a starlike structure with no geographic signal; however, genetic diversity sharply decreases towards the edges of the species distribution. The general lack of phylogeographic structure among J. lalandii populations probably results from the absence of strong barriers to larval dispersal. Based on our mtDNA data there is no justification for the recognition of separate fishing stocks, but the high genetic diversities of populations at Hout Bay and Cape Hangklip, the latter currently outside of marine protected areas, makes these populations critical to conservation efforts.

The dating of the 6 to 8-m shoreline in southern Africa as early Pleistocene prompted a reassessment of evidence from archaeological cave sites on the south coast of the Cape Province which had suggested that this shoreline is of last interglacial age. The successions in the caves at Klasies River Mouth and Die Kelders have been misinterpreted. In fact, they confirm a pre-last interglacial age for this feature. These sites, together with Herolds Bay Cave, indicate that in southern Africa the only last interglacial shoreline above present sea level is at about 4 m, and that it dates from isotope substage 5e.

Abstract. Due to the high sensitivity of southern Africa to climate change, a reliable understanding of its hydrological system is crucial. Recent studies of the regional climatic system have revealed a highly complex interplay of forcing factors on precipitation regimes. This includes the influence of the tropical easterlies, the strength of the southern hemispheric westerlies as well as sea surface temperatures along the coast of the subcontinent. However, very few marine records have been available in order to study the coupling of marine and atmospheric circulation systems. Here we present results from a marine sediment core, recovered in shallow waters off the Gouritz River mouth on the south coast of South Africa. Core GeoB18308-1 allows a closer view of the last ∼ 4 kyr. Climate sensitive organic proxies, like the distribution and isotopic composition of plant-wax lipids as well as indicators for sea surface temperatures and soil input, give information on oceanographic and hydrologic changes during the recorded time period. Moreover, the micropaleontology, mineralogical and elemental composition of the sediments reflect the variability of the terrigenous input to the core site. The combination of down-core sediment signatures and a catchment-wide provenance study indicate that the Little Ice Age ( ∼ 300–650 cal yr BP) was characterized by climatic conditions favorable to torrential flood events. The Medieval Climate Anomaly ( ∼ 950–650 cal yr BP) is expressed by lower sea surface temperatures in the Mossel Bay area and humid conditions in the Gouritz River catchment. These new results suggest that the coincidence of humid conditions and cooler sea surface temperatures along the south coast of South Africa resulted from a strengthened and more southerly anticyclonic circulation. Most probably, the transport of moisture from the Indian Ocean by strong subtropical easterlies was coupled with Agulhas Bank upwelling pulses, which were initiated by an increase in Agulhas Current strength.

This paper reports on a contingent valuation made of the freshwater inflow into the Keurbooms Estuary near Plettenberg Bay, South Africa, in April 2001. The value of this water was estimated in terms of the services yielded to recreation users of the estuary, to be between R0,012/m3 and R0,046/m3. This value is currently lower than what farmers are willing to pay for the water in this area, as measured by the income capitalisation method, namely R0,125/m3, but may increase in the future as more and more South African estuaries are undermined through upstream river water abstraction, and recreational substitutes are diminished. A willingness-to-pay function was also estimated and show annual levies paid and investment in goods to access the estuary services to be important determinants of willingness-to-pay.

In this study, we purified and characterized bioflocculant from a mixed culture of three marine bacteria (Cobetia sp. OAUIFE, Bacillus sp. MAYA, and Bacillus sp. Gilbert with accession number JF799092, JF799093, and HQ537128, respectively) isolated from the sediment sample of Algoa Bay South Africa. The bioflocculant from the consortium showed high flocculation of river water, brewery wastewater, and dairy wastewater, with resultant flocculating activities of 96.4%, 93.7%, and 82.2%, respectively. The applicability of the bioflocculant for removing turbidity and reducing chemical oxygen demand (COD) from these real wastewaters was excellent. The bioflocculant turbidity removal efficiency for brewery wastewater was 92%, while its COD reduction efficiency for dairy wastewater was 99%. A scanning electron microscopy (SEM) image of the purified bioflocculant revealed an amorphous morphology, while Fourier transform infra-red (FTIR) analysis also revealed the presence of amino, hydroxyl, and carboxyl functional groups among others, which could be responsible for the high-flocculating activity of the bioflocculant. This environmental-friendly bioflocculant holds promise for application in the field of biotechnology.

The reproductive biology of the tarwhine Rhabdosargus sarba has been studied in three very different environments in Western Australia, namely the lower reaches of the Swan River Estuary and marine waters at the same latitude, i.e. ≈32°S, and a large subtropical marine embayment (Shark Bay) approximately 800 km further north. A macroscopic and histological examination of the gonads demonstrated that R. sarba is typically a rudimentary hermaphrodite in Western Australian waters, i.e. the juveniles develop into either a male or female in which the ovarian and testicular zones of the gonads, respectively, are macroscopically undetectable. This contrasts with the situation in the waters off Hong Kong and South Africa where R. sarba is reported to be a protandrous hermaphrodite. Although R. sarba spawns between mid-late winter and late spring in each water body, the onset of spawning in the estuary is delayed until salinities have risen well above their winter minima. Although males and females attain sexual maturity at very similar lengths in the Swan River Estuary and Shark Bay, i.e. each L50 for first maturity lies between 170 and 177 mm total length (TL), they typically reach maturity at an earlier age in the former environment, i.e. 2 vs 3 years old. During the spawning period, only 25 and 12% of the males and females, respectively, that were caught between 180 and 260 mm TL in nearshore marine waters were mature, whereas 94 and 92% of the males and females, respectively, that were collected in this length-range over reefs, were mature. This indicates that R. sarba tends to move offshore when it has become ‘physiologically’ ready to mature. The L50s at first maturity indicate that the minimum legal length in Western Australia (230 mm TL) is appropriate for managing this species.

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

War creates a huge need for labour to support the war efforts of the belligerent parties. In South Africa tens of thousands of ‘non-white’ workers were mobilised during the Second World War to satisfy the Union Defence Force’s (UDF’s) labour needs at home and abroad. This article, firstly, outlines the role of ‘non-white people’, particularly black Africans, in the UDF with special reference to those employed within the Union of South Africa. Secondly, it briefly delineates typhoid fever as an historical thorn in the flesh of military forces up to the early 20th century. It then looks briefly into the incidence of and perceptions on typhoid fever as a killer disease in South Africa on the eve of the Second World War. Against that background, the article investigates the employment of black workers on the construction of the Berg River-Saldanha Bay military water pipeline and the UDF’s response to the threat and subsequent outbreak of typhoid fever amongst the workers at the Berg River intake site in 1943. The article concludes that the public health authorities and UDF were aware of the threat of typhoid fever with regard to the Berg River water scheme, but did not take sufficient precautionary measures, which could have had serious repercussions for the Allied war effort. This incident should serve as a warning to the South African National Defence Force when deploying on peace support operations on the African continent where typhoid fever remains a serious threat next to Hiv/Aids.

Until now there have been no reliable historical or skeletal fossil records for the giraffe (Giraffa camelopardalis) south of the Orange River or northern Namaqualand. The recent discovery of fossil giraffe tracks in coastal aeolianites east of Still Bay, South Africa, significantly increases the geographical range for this species, and has implications for Late Pleistocene climate and vegetation in the southern Cape. Giraffe populations have specialised needs, and require a savanna ecosystem. Marine geophysical and geological evidence suggests that the broad, currently submerged floodplains of the Gouritz and Breede Rivers likely supported a productive savanna of Vachellia karroo during Pleistocene glacial conditions, which would have provided a suitable habitat for this species. We show evidence for the hypothesis that the opening of the submerged shelf during glacial periods acted as a pathway for mammals to migrate along the southern coastal plain.

The thick-shelled clam Meretrix morphina, previously referred to as Meretrix meretrix, now occurs in the west Indian Ocean region, along the eastern seaboard of Africa, from the Red Sea to the Mlalazi Estuary, close to the Tugela River. Its presence in South Africa is only of recent recording. Meretrix morphina was detected for the first time in Lake St Lucia in 2000. The population declined and was not detected from 2005 until 2011, most likely as a result of a severe drought that resulted in widespread desiccation and hypersalinity in the lake. The system then experienced increased freshwater input resulting in lower salinities from 2011 until 2014, during which time M. morphina reappeared and their population gradually increased. In 2015, M. morphina became abundant in St Lucia, attaining unprecedented densities of 447 ind./m2. Biomass, expressed as a fresh weight, varied in the different basins of St Lucia, ranging from 195 g/m2 at Lister’s Point to 1909.8 g/m2 at Catalina Bay. However, in 2016, when drought conditions returned, M. morphina disappeared. This species appears to thrive under brackish salinities and high temperatures. It is able to establish large populations with high biomass and can become dominant. However, M. morphina is sensitive to desiccation and hypersaline conditions. This clam has substantial commercial value and is exploited along the African east coast, particularly in Mozambique. In future, it may feature more prominently in South African estuaries. However, the ecology of M. morphina is still largely unknown.

IntroductionTasmania hangs from the map of Australia like a drop in freefall from the substance of the mainland. Often the whole state is mislaid from Australian maps and logos (Reddit). Tasmania has, at least since federation, been considered peripheral—a region seen as isolated, a ‘problem’ economically, politically, and culturally. However, Tasmania not only cleaves to the ‘north island’ of Australia but is also subject to the gravitational pull of an even greater land mass—Antarctica. In this article, we upturn the political conventions of map-making that place both Antarctica and Tasmania in obscure positions at the base of the globe. We show how a changing global climate re-frames Antarctica and the Southern Ocean as key drivers of worldwide environmental shifts. The liquid and solid water between Tasmania and Antarctica is revealed not as a homogenous barrier, but as a dynamic and relational medium linking the Tasmanian archipelago with Antarctica. When Antarctica becomes the focus, the script is flipped: Tasmania is no longer on the edge, but core to a network of gateways into the southern land. The state’s capital of Hobart can from this perspective be understood as an “Antarctic city”, central to the geopolitics, economy, and culture of the frozen continent (Salazar et al.). Viewed from the south, we argue, Tasmania is not a problem, but an opportunity for a form of ecological, cultural, economic, and political sustainability that opens up the southern continent to science, discovery, and imagination.A Centre at the End of the Earth? Tasmania as ParadoxThe islands of Tasmania owe their existence to climate change: a period of warming at the end of the last ice age melted the vast sheets of ice covering the polar regions, causing sea levels to rise by more than one hundred metres (Tasmanian Climate Change Office 8). Eleven thousand years ago, Aboriginal people would have witnessed the rise of what is now called Bass Strait, turning what had been a peninsula into an archipelago, with the large island of Tasmania at its heart. The heterogeneous practices and narratives of Tasmanian regional identity have been shaped by the geography of these islands, and their connection to the Southern Ocean and Antarctica. Regions, understood as “centres of collective consciousness and sociospatial identities” (Paasi 241) are constantly reproduced and reimagined through place-based social practices and communications over time. As we will show, diverse and contradictory narratives of Tasmanian regionality often co-exist, interacting in complex and sometimes complementary ways. Ecocritical literary scholar C.A. Cranston considers duality to be embedded in the textual construction of Tasmania, writing “it was hell, it was heaven, it was penal, it was paradise” (29). Tasmania is multiply polarised: it is both isolated and connected; close and far away; rich in resources and poor in capital; the socially conservative birthplace of radical green politics (Hay 60). The weather, as if sensing the fine balance of these paradoxes, blows hot and cold at a moment’s notice.Tasmania has wielded extraordinary political influence at times in its history—notably during the settlement of Melbourne in 1835 (Boyce), and during protests against damming the Franklin River in the early 1980s (Mercer). However, twentieth-century historical and political narratives of Tasmania portray the Bass Strait as a barrier, isolating Tasmanians from the mainland (Harwood 61). Sir Bede Callaghan, who headed one of a long line of federal government inquiries into “the Tasmanian problem” (Harwood 106), was clear that Tasmania was a victim of its own geography:the major disability facing the people of Tasmania (although some residents may consider it an advantage) is that Tasmania is an island. Separation from the mainland adversely affects the economy of the State and the general welfare of the people in many ways. (Callaghan 3)This perspective may stem from the fact that Tasmania has maintained the lowest Gross Domestic Product per capita of all states since federation (Bureau of Infrastructure Transport and Regional Economics 9). Socially, economically, and culturally, Tasmania consistently ranks among the worst regions of Australia. Statistical comparisons with other parts of Australia reveal the population’s high unemployment, low wages, poor educational outcomes, and bad health (West 31). The state’s remoteness and isolation from the mainland states and its reliance on federal income have contributed to the whole of Tasmania, including Hobart, being classified as ‘regional’ by the Australian government, in an attempt to promote immigration and economic growth (Department of Infrastructure and Regional Development 1). Tasmania is indeed both regional and remote. However, in this article we argue that, while regionality may be cast as a disadvantage, the island’s remote location is also an asset, particularly when viewed from a far southern perspective (Image 1).Image 1: Antarctica (Orthographic Projection). Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons, Modified Shading of Tasmania and Addition of Captions by H. Nielsen.Connecting Oceans/Collapsing DistanceTasmania and Antarctica have been closely linked in the past—the future archipelago formed a land bridge between Antarctica and northern land masses until the opening of the Tasman Seaway some 32 million years ago (Barker et al.). The far south was tangible to the Indigenous people of the island in the weather blowing in from the Southern Ocean, while the southern lights, or “nuyina”, formed a visible connection (Australia’s new icebreaker vessel is named RSV Nuyina in recognition of these links). In the contemporary Australian imagination, Tasmania tends to be defined by its marine boundaries, the sea around the islands represented as flat, empty space against which to highlight the topography of its landscape and the isolation of its position (Davies et al.). A more relational geographic perspective illuminates the “power of cross-currents and connections” (Stratford et al. 273) across these seascapes. The sea country of Tasmania is multiple and heterogeneous: the rough, shallow waters of the island-scattered Bass Strait flow into the Tasman Sea, where the continental shelf descends toward an abyssal plain studded with volcanic seamounts. To the south, the Southern Ocean provides nutrient-rich upwellings that attract fish and cetacean populations. Tasmania’s coast is a dynamic, liminal space, moving and changing in response to the global currents that are driven by the shifting, calving and melting ice shelves and sheets in Antarctica.Oceans have long been a medium of connection between Tasmania and Antarctica. In the early colonial period, when the seas were the major thoroughfares of the world and inland travel was treacherous and slow, Tasmania’s connection with the Southern Ocean made it a valuable hub for exploration and exploitation of the south. Between 1642 and 1900, early European explorers were followed by British penal colonists, convicts, sealers, and whalers (Kriwoken and Williamson 93). Tasmania was well known to polar explorers, with expeditions led by Jules Dumont d’Urville, James Clark Ross, Roald Amundsen, and Douglas Mawson all transiting through the port of Hobart. Now that the city is no longer a whaling hub, growing populations of cetaceans continue to migrate past the islands on their annual journeys from the tropics, across the Sub-Antarctic Front and Antarctic circumpolar current, and into the south polar region, while southern species such as leopard seals are occasionally seen around Tasmania (Tasmania Parks and Wildlife). Although the water surrounding Tasmania and Antarctica is at times homogenised as a ‘barrier’, rendering these places isolated, the bodies of water that surround both are in fact permeable, and regularly crossed by both humans and marine species. The waters are diverse in their physical characteristics, underlying topography, sea life, and relationships, and serve to connect many different ocean regions, ecosystems, and weather patterns.Views from the Far SouthWhen considered in terms of its relative proximity to Antarctic, rather than its distance from Australia’s political and economic centres, Tasmania’s identity undergoes a significant shift. A sign at Cockle Creek, in the state’s far south, reminds visitors that they are closer to Antarctica than to Cairns, invoking a discourse of connectedness that collapses the standard ten-day ship voyage to Australia’s closest Antarctic station into a unit comparable with the routinely scheduled 5.5 hour flight to North Queensland. Hobart is the logistical hub for the Australian Antarctic Division and the French Institut Polaire Francais (IPEV), and has hosted Antarctic vessels belonging to the USA, South Korea, and Japan in recent years. From a far southern perspective, Hobart is not a regional Australian capital but a global polar hub. This alters the city’s geographic imaginary not only in a latitudinal sense—from “top down” to “bottom up”—but also a longitudinal one. Via its southward connection to Antarctica, Hobart is also connected east and west to four other recognized gateways: Cape Town in South Africa, Christchurch in New Zealand; Punta Arenas in Chile; and Ushuaia in Argentina (Image 2). The latter cities are considered small by international standards, but play an outsized role in relation to Antarctica.Image 2: H. Nielsen with a Sign Announcing Distances between Antarctic ‘Gateway’ Cities and Antarctica, Ushuaia, Argentina, 2018. Image Credit: Nicki D'Souza.These five cities form what might be called—to adapt geographer Klaus Dodds’ term—a ‘Southern Rim’ around the South Polar region (Dodds Geopolitics). They exist in ambiguous relationship to each other. Although the five cities signed a Statement of Intent in 2009 committing them to collaboration, they continue to compete vigorously for northern hemisphere traffic and the brand identity of the most prominent global gateway. A state government brochure spruiks Hobart, for example, as the “perfect Antarctic Gateway” emphasising its uniqueness and “natural advantages” in this regard (Tasmanian Government, 2016). In practice, the cities are automatically differentiated by their geographic position with respect to Antarctica. Although the ‘ice continent’ is often conceived as one entity, it too has regions, in both scientific and geographical senses (Terauds and Lee; Antonello). Hobart provides access to parts of East Antarctica, where the Australian, French, Japanese, and Chinese programs (among others) have bases; Cape Town is a useful access point for Europeans going to Dronning Maud Land; Christchurch is closest to the Ross Sea region, site of the largest US base; and Punta Arenas and Ushuaia neighbour the Antarctic Peninsula, home to numerous bases as well as a thriving tourist industry.The Antarctic sector is important to the Tasmanian economy, contributing $186 million (AUD) in 2017/18 (Wells; Gutwein; Tasmanian Polar Network). Unsurprisingly, Tasmania’s gateway brand has been actively promoted, with the 2016 Australian Antarctic Strategy and 20 Year Action Plan foregrounding the need to “Build Tasmania’s status as the premier East Antarctic Gateway for science and operations” and the state government releasing a “Tasmanian Antarctic Gateway Strategy” in 2017. The Chinese Antarctic program has been a particular focus: a Memorandum of Understanding focussed on Australia and China’s Antarctic relations includes a “commitment to utilise Australia, including Tasmania, as an Antarctic ‘gateway’.” (Australian Antarctic Division). These efforts towards a closer relationship with China have more recently come under attack as part of a questioning of China’s interests in the region (without, it should be noted, a concomitant questioning of Australia’s own considerable interests) (Baker 9). In these exchanges, a global power and a state of Australia generally classed as regional and peripheral are brought into direct contact via the even more remote Antarctic region. This connection was particularly visible when Chinese President Xi Jinping travelled to Hobart in 2014, in a visit described as both “strategic” and “incongruous” (Burden). There can be differences in how this relationship is narrated to domestic and international audiences, with issues of sovereignty and international cooperation variously foregrounded, laying the ground for what Dodds terms “awkward Antarctic nationalism” (1).Territory and ConnectionsThe awkwardness comes to a head in Tasmania, where domestic and international views of connections with the far south collide. Australia claims sovereignty over almost 6 million km2 of the Antarctic continent—a claim that in area is “roughly the size of mainland Australia minus Queensland” (Bergin). This geopolitical context elevates the importance of a regional part of Australia: the claims to Antarctic territory (which are recognised only by four other claimant nations) are performed not only in Antarctic localities, where they are made visible “with paraphernalia such as maps, flags, and plaques” (Salazar 55), but also in Tasmania, particularly in Hobart and surrounds. A replica of Mawson’s Huts in central Hobart makes Australia’s historic territorial interests in Antarctica visible an urban setting, foregrounding the figure of Douglas Mawson, the well-known Australian scientist and explorer who led the expeditions that proclaimed Australia’s sovereignty in the region of the continent roughly to its south (Leane et al.). Tasmania is caught in a balancing act, as it fosters international Antarctic connections (such hosting vessels from other national programs), while also playing a key role in administering what is domestically referred to as the Australian Antarctic Territory. The rhetoric of protection can offer common ground: island studies scholar Godfrey Baldacchino notes that as island narratives have moved “away from the perspective of the ‘explorer-discoverer-colonist’” they have been replaced by “the perspective of the ‘custodian-steward-environmentalist’” (49), but reminds readers that a colonising disposition still lurks beneath the surface. It must be remembered that terms such as “stewardship” and “leadership” can undertake sovereignty labour (Dodds “Awkward”), and that Tasmania’s Antarctic connections can be mobilised for a range of purposes. When Environment Minister Greg Hunt proclaimed at a press conference that: “Hobart is the gateway to the Antarctic for the future” (26 Apr. 2016), the remark had meaning within discourses of both sovereignty and economics. Tasmania’s capital was leveraged as a way to position Australia as a leader in the Antarctic arena.From ‘Gateway’ to ‘Antarctic City’While discussion of Antarctic ‘Gateway’ Cities often focuses on the economic and logistical benefit of their Antarctic connections, Hobart’s “gateway” identity, like those of its counterparts, stretches well beyond this, encompassing geological, climatic, historical, political, cultural and scientific links. Even the southerly wind, according to cartoonist Jon Kudelka, “has penguins in it” (Image 3). Hobart residents feel a high level of connection to Antarctica. In 2018, a survey of 300 randomly selected residents of Greater Hobart was conducted under the umbrella of the “Antarctic Cities” Australian Research Council Linkage Project led by Assoc. Prof. Juan Francisco Salazar (and involving all three present authors). Fourteen percent of respondents reported having been involved in an economic activity related to Antarctica, and 36% had attended a cultural event about Antarctica. Connections between the southern continent and Hobart were recognised as important: 71.9% agreed that “people in my city can influence the cultural meanings that shape our relationship to Antarctica”, while 90% agreed or strongly agreed that Hobart should play a significant role as a custodian of Antarctica’s future, and 88.4% agreed or strongly agreed that: “How we treat Antarctica is a test of our approach to ecological sustainability.” Image 3: “The Southerly” Demonstrates How Weather Connects Hobart and Antarctica. Image Credit: Jon Kudelka, Reproduced with Permission.Hobart, like the other gateways, activates these connections in its conscious place-branding. The city is particularly strong as a centre of Antarctic research: signs at the cruise-ship terminal on the waterfront claim that “There are more Antarctic scientists based in Hobart […] than at any other one place on earth, making Hobart a globally significant contributor to our understanding of Antarctica and the Southern Ocean.” Researchers are based at the Institute for Marine and Antarctic Studies (IMAS), the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation (CSIRO), and the Australian Antarctic Division (AAD), with several working between institutions. Many Antarctic researchers located elsewhere in the world also have a connection with the place through affiliations and collaborations, leading journalist Jo Chandler to assert that “the breadth and depth of Hobart’s knowledge of ice, water, and the life forms they nurture […] is arguably unrivalled anywhere in the world” (86).Hobart also plays a significant role in Antarctica’s governance, as the site of the secretariats for the Commission for the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources (CCAMLR) and the Agreement on the Conservation of Albatrosses and Petrels (ACAP), and as host of the Antarctic Consultative Treaty Meetings on more than one occasion (1986, 2012). The cultural domain is active, with Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery (TMAG) featuring a permanent exhibit, “Islands to Ice”, emphasising the ocean as connecting the two places; the Mawson’s Huts Replica Museum aiming (among other things) to “highlight Hobart as the gateway to the Antarctic continent for the Asia Pacific region”; and a biennial Australian Antarctic Festival drawing over twenty thousand visitors, about a sixth of them from interstate or overseas (Hingley). Antarctic links are evident in the city’s natural and built environment: the dolerite columns of Mt Wellington, the statue of the Tasmanian Antarctic explorer Louis Bernacchi on the waterfront, and the wharfs that regularly accommodate icebreakers such as the Aurora Australis and the Astrolabe. Antarctica is figured as a southern neighbour; as historian Tom Griffiths puts it, Tasmanians “grow up with Antarctica breathing down their necks” (5). As an Antarctic City, Hobart mediates access to Antarctica both physically and in the cultural imaginary.Perhaps in recognition of the diverse ways in which a region or a city might be connected to Antarctica, researchers have recently been suggesting critical approaches to the ‘gateway’ label. C. Michael Hall points to a fuzziness in the way the term is applied, noting that it has drifted from its initial definition (drawn from economic geography) as denoting an access and supply point to a hinterland that produces a certain level of economic benefits. While Hall looks to keep the term robustly defined to avoid empty “local boosterism” (272–73), Gabriela Roldan aims to move the concept “beyond its function as an entry and exit door”, arguing that, among other things, the local community should be actively engaged in the Antarctic region (57). Leane, examining the representation of Hobart as a gateway in historical travel texts, concurs that “ingress and egress” are insufficient descriptors of Tasmania’s relationship with Antarctica, suggesting that at least discursively the island is positioned as “part of an Antarctic rim, itself sharing qualities of the polar region” (45). The ARC Linkage Project described above, supported by the Hobart City Council, the State Government and the University of Tasmania, as well as other national and international partners, aims to foster the idea of the Hobart and its counterparts as ‘Antarctic cities’ whose citizens act as custodians for the South Polar region, with a genuine concern for and investment in its future.Near and Far: Local Perspectives A changing climate may once again herald a shift in the identity of the Tasmanian islands. Recognition of the central role of Antarctica in regulating the global climate has generated scientific and political re-evaluation of the region. Antarctica is not only the planet’s largest heat sink but is the engine of global water currents and wind patterns that drive weather patterns and biodiversity across the world (Convey et al. 543). For example, Tas van Ommen’s research into Antarctic glaciology shows the tangible connection between increased snowfall in coastal East Antarctica and patterns of drought southwest Western Australia (van Ommen and Morgan). Hobart has become a global centre of marine and Antarctic science, bringing investment and development to the city. As the global climate heats up, Tasmania—thanks to its low latitude and southerly weather patterns—is one of the few regions in Australia likely to remain temperate. This is already leading to migration from the mainland that is impacting house prices and rental availability (Johnston; Landers 1). The region’s future is therefore closely entangled with its proximity to the far south. Salazar writes that “we cannot continue to think of Antarctica as the end of the Earth” (67). Shifting Antarctica into focus also brings Tasmania in from the margins. As an Antarctic city, Hobart assumes a privileged positioned on the global stage. This allows the city to present itself as central to international research efforts—in contrast to domestic views of the place as a small regional capital. The city inhabits dual identities; it is both on the periphery of Australian concerns and at the centre of Antarctic activity. Tasmania, then, is not in freefall, but rather at the forefront of a push to recognise Antarctica as entangled with its neighbours to the north.AcknowledgementsThis work was supported by the Australian Research Council under LP160100210.ReferencesAntonello, Alessandro. “Finding Place in Antarctica.” Antarctica and the Humanities. Eds. Peder Roberts, Lize-Marie van der Watt, and Adrian Howkins. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2016. 181–204.Australian Government. 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Introduction Tiffany and Co. is an American luxury jewellery and specialty retailer with its headquarters in New York City. Each piece of jewellery, symbolically packaged in a blue box and tied with a white bow, encapsulates the brand’s unique diamond pieces, symbolic origin story, branded historical contributions and representations in culture. Cultural brands are those that live and thrive in the minds of consumers (Holt). Their brand promise inspires loyalty and trust. These brands offer experiences, products, and personalities and spark emotional connotations within consumers (Arvidsson). This case study uses Tiffany & Co. as a successful example to reveal the importance of understanding consumers, the influential nature of media culture, and the efficacy of strategic branding, advertising, and marketing over time (Holt). It also reveals how Tiffany & Co. earned and maintained its place as an iconic cultural brand within consumer culture, through its strong association with New York and products from abroad. Through its trademarked logo and authentic luxury jewellery, encompassed in the globally recognised “Tiffany Blue” boxes, Tiffany & Co.’s cultural significance stems from its embodiment of the expected makings of a brand (Chernatony et al.). However, what propels this brand into what Douglas Holt terms “iconic territory” is that in its one hundred and seventy-nine years of existence, Tiffany’s has lived exclusively in the minds of its consumers.Tiffany & Co.’s intuitive prowess in reaching its target audience is what allows it to dominate the luxury jewellery market (Halasz et al.). This is not only a result of product value, but the alluring nature of the “Tiffany's from New York” brand imagery and experience (Holt et al.), circulated and celebrated in consumer culture through influential depictions in music, film and literature over time (Knight). Tiffany’s faithfully participates in the magnetic identity myth embodied by the brand and city, and has become globally sought after by consumers near and far, and recognised for its romantic connotations of love, luxury, and New York (Holt). An American Dream: New York Affiliation & Diamond OriginsIt was Truman Capote’s characterisation of Holly Golightly in his book (1958) and film adaption, Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961) that introduced the world to New York as the infatuating “setting,” upon which the Tiffany’s diamond rested. It was a place, that enabled the iconic Holly Golightly to personify the feeling of being abroad in New York and to demonstrate the seductive nature of a Tiffany’s store experience, further shaping the identity myth encompassed by the brand and the city for their global audience (Holt). Essentially, New York was the influential cultural instigator that propelled Tiffany & Co. from a consumer product, to a cultural icon. It did this by circulating its iconography via celebrity affiliations and representations in music, film, and literature (Knight), and by guiding strong brand associations in the minds of consumers (Arvidsson). However, before Tiffany’s became culturally iconic, it established its place in American heritage through historical contributions (Tiffany & Co.) and pledged an association to New York by personifying the American Dream (Mae). To help achieve his dream in a rapidly evolving economy (Elliott), Charles Lewis Tiffany purportedly brought the first substantial gemstones into America from overseas, and established the first American jewellery store to sell them to the public (Halasz et al.). The Tiffany & Co. origin story personifies the alluring nature of products from abroad, and their influence on individuals seeking an image of affluence for themselves. The ties between New York, Tiffany’s, and its consumers were further strengthened through the established, invaluable and emblematic nature of the diamond, historically launched and controlled by South African Diamond Cartel of De Beers (Twitchell). De Beers manipulated the demand for diamonds and instigated it as a status symbol. It then became a commoditised measurement of an individual’s worth and potential to love (Twitchell), a philosophy, also infused in the Tiffany & Co. brand ideology (Holt). Building on this, Tiffany’s further ritualised the justification of the material symbolisation of love through the idealistic connotations surrounding its assorted diamond ring experiences (Lee). This was projected through a strategic product placement and targeted advertising scheme, evident in dominant culture throughout the brand’s existence (Twitchell). Idealistically discussed by Purinton, this is also what exemplified, for consumers, the enticing cultural symbolism of the crystal rock from New York (Halasz et al.). Brand Essence: Experience & Iconography Prior to pop culture portraying the charming Tiffany’s brand imagery in mainstream media (Balmer et al.), Charles Tiffany directed the company’s ascent into luxury jewellery (Phillips et al.), fashioned the enticing Tiffany’s “store experience”, and initiated the experiential process of purchasing a diamond product. This immediately intertwined the imagery of Tiffany’s with New York, instigating the exclusivity of the experience for consumers (Holt). Tiffany’s provided customers with the opportunity to participate in an intricately branded journey, resulting in the diamond embodiment which declared their love most accurately; a token, packaged and presented within an iconic “Tiffany Blue” box (Klara). Aligning with Keller’s branding blueprint (7), this interactive process enabled Tiffany & Co. to build brand loyalty by consistently connecting with each of its consumers, regardless of their location in the world. The iconography of the coveted “blue box” was crafted when Charles Tiffany trademarked the shade Pantone No. 1837 (Osborne), which he coined for the year of Tiffany’s founding (Klara). Along with the brand promise of containing quality luxury jewellery, the box and that particular shade of blue instantly became a symbol of exclusivity, sophistication, and elegance, as it could only be acquired by purchasing jewellery from a Tiffany’s store (Rawlings). The exclusive packaging began to shape Tiffany’s global brand image, becoming a signifier of style and superiority (Phillips et al.), and eventually just as iconic as the jewellery itself. The blue box is still the strongest signifier of the brand today (Osborne). Ultimately, individuals want to participate in the myth of love, perfection and wealth (Arvidsson), encompassed exclusively by every Tiffany’s “blue box”. Furthermore, Tiffany’s has remained artistically significant within the luxury jewellery landscape since introducing its one-of-a-kind Tiffany Setting in 1886. It was the first jewellery store to fully maximise the potential of the natural beauty possessed of diamonds, while connotatively reflecting the natural beauty of every wearer (Phillips et al.). According to Jeffrey Bennett, the current Vice President of Tiffany & Co. New York, by precisely perching the “Tiffany Diamond” upon six intricately crafted silver prongs, the ring shines to its maximum capacity in a lit environment, while being closely secured to the wearer’s finger (Lee). Hence, the “Tiffany Setting” has become a universally sought after icon of extravagance and intricacy (Knight), and, as Bennett further describes, even today, the setting represents uncompromising quality and is a standard image of true love (Lee). Alluring Brand Imagery & Influential Representations in CultureEmpirical consumer research, involving two focus groups of married and unmarried, ethnically diverse Australian women and conducted in 2015, revealed that even today, individuals accredit their desire for Tiffany’s to the inspirational imagery portrayed in music, movies and television. Through participating in the Tiffany's from New York store experience, consumers are able to indulge in their fantasies of what it would feel like to be abroad and the endless potential a city such as New York could hold for them. Tiffany’s successfully disseminated its brand ideology into consumer culture (Purinton) and extended the brand’s significance for consumers beyond the 1960s through constant representation of the expensive business of love, lust and marriage within media culture. This is demonstrated in such films as Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953), Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961), Sleepless in Seattle (1993), Legally Blonde (2001), Sweet Home Alabama (2002), The Great Gatsby (2013), and in the influential television shows, Gossip Girl (2007—2012), and Glee (2009—2015).The most important of these was the film Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961), and the iconic embodiment of Capote’s (1958) Holly Golightly by actress Audrey Hepburn (Wasson). Hepburn’s (1961) portrayal of the emotionally evocative connotations of experiencing Tiffany’s in New York, as personified by her romantic dialogue throughout the film (Mae), produced the image that nothing bad could ever happen at a Tiffany’s store. Thus began the Tiffany’s from New York cultural phenomenon, which has been consistently reiterated in popular media culture ever since.Breakfast at Tiffany’s also represented a greater struggle faced by women in the 1960s (Dutt); that of gender roles, women’s place in society, and their desire for stability and freedom simultaneously (Sheehan). Due to Hepburn’s accurate characterisation of this struggle, the film enabled Tiffany & Co. to become more than just jewellery and a symbol of support (Torelli). Tiffany’s also allowed filming to take place inside its New York flagship store to which Capote’s narrative so idealistically alludes, further demonstrating its support for the 1960s women’s movement at an opportune moment in history (Torelli). Hence, Tiffany’s from New York became a symbol for the independent materialistic modern woman (Wasson), an ideal, which has become a repeated motif, re-imagined and embodied by popular icons (Knight) such as, Madonna in Material Girl (1985), and the characterisations of Carrie Bradshaw by Sarah Jessica Parker, Charlotte York by Kristin Davis (Sex and the City), and Donna Paulsen by Sarah Rafferty (Suits). The iconic television series Sex and the City, set in New York, boldly represented Tiffany’s as a symbol of friendship when a fellow female protagonist parted with her lavish Tiffany’s engagement ring to help her friend financially (Sex and the City). This was similarly reimagined in the popular television series Suits, also set in New York, where a protagonist is gifted two Tiffany Boxes from her female friend, as a token of congratulations on her engagement. This allowed Tiffany & Co. to add friendship to its symbolic repertoire (Manning), whilst still personifying a symbol of love in the minds of its consumers who were tactically also the target audiences of these television shows (Wharton).The alluring Tiffany’s image was presented specifically to a male audience through the first iconic Bond Girl named Tiffany Case in the novel Diamonds Are Forever (Fleming). The film adaption made its cultural imprint in 1971 with Sean Connery portraying James Bond, and paired the exaggerated brand of “007” with the evocative imagery of Tiffany’s (Spilski et al.). This served as a reminder to existing audiences about the powerful and seductive connotations of the blue box with the white ribbon (Osborne), as depicted by the enticing Tiffany Case in 1956.Furthermore, the Tiffany’s image was similarly established as a lyrical status symbol of wealth and indulgence (Knight). Portrayed most memorably by Marilyn Monroe’s iconic performance of Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend (Gentlemen Prefer Blondes). Even though the song only mentions Tiffany’s lyrically twice (Vito et al.), through the celebrity affiliation, Monroe was introduced as a credible embodiment of Tiffany’s brand essence (Davis). Consequently, she permanently attached her image to that of the alluring Tiffany Diamonds for the target audience, male and female, past and present (Vito et al.). Exactly thirty-two years later, Monroe’s 1953 depiction was reinforced in consumer culture (Wharton) through an uncanny aesthetic and lyrical reimagining of the original performance by Madonna in her music video Material Girl (1985). This further preserved and familiarised the Tiffany’s image of glamour, luxury and beauty by implanting it in the minds of a new generation (Knight). Despite the shift in celebrity affiliation to a current cultural communicator (Arvidsson), the influential image of the Tiffany Diamond remains constant and Tiffany’s has maintained its place as a popular signifier of affluence and elegance in mainstream consumer culture (Jansson). The main difference, however, between Monroe’s and Madonna’s depictions is that Madonna aspired to be associated with the Tiffany’s brand image because of her appreciation for Marilyn Monroe and her brand image, which also intrinsically exuded beauty, money and glamour (Vito et al.). This suggests that even a musical icon like Madonna was influenced by Tiffany & Co.’s hold on consumer culture (Spilski et al.), and was able to inject the same ideals into her own loyal fan base (Fill). It is evident that Tiffany & Co. is thoroughly in tune with its target market and understands the relevant routes into the minds of its consumers. Kotler (113) identifies that the brand has demonstrated the ability to reach its separate audiences simultaneously, with an image that resonates with them on different levels (Manning). For example, Tiffany & Co. created the jewellery that featured in Baz Luhrmann’s 2013 cinematic adaption of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel, The Great Gatsby (1925). Through representing a signifier of love and lust induced by monetary possessions (Fitzgerald), Tiffany’s truthfully portrayed its own brand image and persuaded audiences to associate the brand with these ideals (Holt). By illustrating the romantic, alluring and powerful symbolism of giving or obtaining love, armed with a Tiffany’s Diamond (Mae), Tiffany’s validated its timeless, historical and cultural contemporary relevance (Greene).This was also most recently depicted through Tiffany & Co.’s Will You (2015) advertising campaign. The brand demonstrated its support for marriage equality, by featuring a real life same-sex couple to symbolise that love is not conditional and that Tiffany’s has something that signifies every relationship (Dicker). Thus, because of the brand’s rooted place in central media culture and the ability to appeal to the belief system of its target market while evolving with, and understanding its consumers on a level of metonymy (Manning), Tiffany & Co. has transitioned from a consumer product to a culturally relevant and globally sought-after iconic brand (Holt). ConclusionTiffany & Co.’s place-based association and representational reflection in music, film, and literature, assisted in the formation of loyal global communities that thrive on the identity building side effects associated with luxury brand affiliation (Banet-Weiser et al.). Tiffany’s enables its global target market to revel in the shared meanings surrounding the brand, by signifying a symbolic construct that resonates with consumers (Hall). Tiffany’s inspires consumers to eagerly exercise their brand trust and loyalty by independently ritualising the Tiffany’s from New York brand experience for themselves and the ones they love (Fill). Essentially, Tiffany & Co. successfully established its place in society and strengthened its ties to New York, through targeted promotions and iconographic brand dissemination (Nita).Furthermore, by ritualistically positioning the brand (Holt), surrounding and saturating it in existing cultural practices, supporting significant cultural actions and becoming a symbol of wealth, luxury, commitment, love and exclusivity (Phillips et al.), Tiffany’s has steadily built a positive brand association and desire in the minds of consumers near and far (Keller). As a direct result, Tiffany’s earned and kept its place as a culturally progressive brand in New York and around the world, sustaining its influence and ensuring its survival in today’s contemporary consumer society (Holt).Most importantly, however, although New York has become the anchor in every geographically exemplified Tiffany’s store experience in literature, New York has also become the allegorical anchor in the minds of consumers in actuality (Arvidsson). Hence, Tiffany & Co. has catered to the needs of its global target audience by providing it with convenient local stores abroad, where their love can be personified by purchasing a Tiffany Diamond, the ultimate symbol of authentic commitment, and where they can always experience an allusive piece of New York. ReferencesArvidsson, Adam. Brands: Meaning and Value in Media Culture. New York: Routledge, 2006.Balmer, John M.T., Stephen A. 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We take as our subject what many would deem a waste of good celluloid: the degraded cultural form of the stoner film. Stoner films plot the experiences of the wasted (those intoxicated on marijuana) as they exhibit wastefulness—excessiveness, improvidence, decay—on a number of fronts. Stoners waste time in constantly hunting for pot and in failing to pursue more productive activity whilst wasted. Stoners waste their minds, both literally, if we believe contested studies that indicate marijuana smoking kills brains cells, and figuratively, in rendering themselves cognitively impaired. Stoners waste their bodies through the dangerous practice of smoking and through the tendency toward physical inertia. Stoners waste money on marijuana firstly, but also on such sophomoric accoutrements as the stoner film itself. Stoners lay waste to convention in excessively seeking pleasure and in dressing and acting outrageously. And stoners, if the scatological humour of so many stoner films is any index, are preoccupied with bodily waste. Stoners, we argue here, waste whiteness as well. As the likes of Jesse and Chester (Dude, Where’s My Car?), Wayne and Garth (Wayne’s World), Bill and Ted (Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure) and Jay and Silent Bob (Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back) make clear, whiteness looms large in stoner films. Yet the genre, we argue, disavows its own whiteness, in favour of a post-white hybridity that lavishly squanders white privilege. For all its focus on whiteness, filmic wastedness has always been an ethnically diverse and ambiguous category. The genre’s origins in the work of Cheech Marin, a Chicano, and Tommy Chong, a Chinese-European Canadian, have been buttressed in this regard by many African American contributions to the stoner oeuvre, including How High, Half Baked and Friday, as well as by Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle, and its Korean-American and Indian-American protagonists. Cheech and Chong initiated the genre with the release of Up in Smoke in 1978. A host of films have followed featuring protagonists who spend much of their time smoking and seeking marijuana (or—in the case of stoner films such as Dude, Where’s My Car? released during the height of the War on Drugs—acting stoned without ever being seen to get stoned). Inspired in part by the 1938 anti-marijuana film Reefer Madness, and the unintended humour such propaganda films begat amongst marijuana smokers, stoner films are comedies that satirise both marijuana culture and its prohibition. Self-consciously slapstick, the stoner genre excludes more serious films about drugs, from Easy Rider to Shaft, as well as films such as The Wizard of Oz, Yellow Submarine, the Muppet movies, and others popular amongst marijuana smokers because of surreal content. Likewise, a host of films that include secondary stoner characters, such as Jeff Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High and Wooderson in Dazed and Confused, are commonly excluded from the genre on the grounds that the stoner film, first and foremost, celebrates stonerism, that is “serious commitment to smoking and acquiring marijuana as a lifestyle choice.” (Meltzer). Often taking the form of the “buddy film,” stoner flicks generally feature male leads and frequently exhibit a decidedly masculinist orientation, with women, for the most part reduced to little more than the object of the white male gaze.The plot, such as it is, of the typical stoner film concerns the search for marijuana (or an accessory, such as junk food) and the improbable misadventures that ensue. While frequently represented as resourceful and energetic in their quest for marijuana, filmic stoners otherwise exhibit ambivalent attitudes toward enterprise that involves significant effort. Typically represented as happy and peaceable, filmic stoners rarely engage in conflict beyond regular clashes with authority figures determined to enforce anti-drug laws, and other measures that stoners take to be infringements upon happiness. While Hollywood’s stoners thus share a sense of entitlement to pleasure, they do not otherwise exhibit a coherent ideological orthodoxy beyond a certain libertarian and relativistic open-mindedness. More likely to take inspiration from comic book heroes than Aldous Huxley or Timothy Leary, stoners are most often portrayed as ‘dazed and confused,’ and could be said to waste the intellectual tradition of mind expansion that Leary represents. That stoner films are, at times, misunderstood to be quintessentially white is hardly suprising. As a social construct that creates, maintains and legitimates white domination, whiteness manifests, as one of its most defining features, an ability to swallow up difference and to insist upon, at critical junctures, a universal subjectivity that disallows for difference (hooks 167). Such universalising not only sanctions co-optation of ethnic cultural expression, it also functions to mask whiteness’s existence, thus reinforcing its very power. Whiteness, as Richard Dyer argues, is simultaneously everywhere and nowhere. It obfuscates itself and its relationship to the particular traits it is said to embody—disinterest, prudence, temperance, rationality, bodily restraint, industriousness (3). Whiteness is thus constructed as neither an ethnic nor racial particularity, but rather the transcendence of such positionality (Wiegman 139). While non-whites are raced, to be white is to be “just human” and thus to possess the power to “claim to speak for the commonality of humanity” whilst denying the accrual of any particular racial privilege (Dyer 2). In refuting its own advantages—which are so wide ranging (from preferential treatment in housing loans, to the freedom to fail without fear of reflecting badly on other whites) that they are, like whiteness itself, both assumed and unproblematic—whiteness instantiates individualism, allowing whites to believe that their successes are in no way the outcome of systematic racial advantage, but rather the product of individual toil (McIntosh; Lipsitz). An examination of the 1978 stoner film Up in Smoke suggests that whatever the ethnic ambiguity of the figure of the stoner, the genre of the stoner film is all about the wasting of whiteness. Up in Smoke opens with two alternating domestic scenes. We first encounter Pedro De Pacas (Cheech Marin) in a cluttered and shadowy room as his siblings romp affectionately upon his back, waking him from his slumber on the couch. Pedro rises, stepping into a bowl of cereal on the floor. He stumbles to the bathroom, where, sleepy and disoriented, he urinates into the laundry hamper. The chaos of Pedro’s disrupted sleep is followed in the film by a more metaphoric awakening as Anthony Stoner (Tommy Chong) determines to leave home. The scene takes place in a far more orderly, light and lavish room. The space’s overpowering whiteness is breached only by the figure of Anthony and his unruly black hair, bushy black beard, and loud Hawaiian shirt, which vibrates with colour against the white walls, white furnishings and white curtains. We watch as Anthony, behind an elaborate bar, prepares a banana protein shake, impassively ignoring his parents, both clothed in all-white, as they clutch martini glasses and berate their son for his lack of ambition. Arnold Stoner [father]: Son, your mother and me would like for you to cozy up to the Finkelstein boy. He's a bright kid, and, uh... he's going to military school, and remember, he was an Eagle Scout. Tempest Stoner [mother]: Arnold…Arnold Stoner: [shouts over/to his wife] Will you shut up? We’re not going to have a family brawl!Tempest Stoner: [continues talking as her husband shouts]…. Retard.Arnold Stoner: [to Anthony] We've put up with a hell of a lot.[Anthony starts blender] Can this wait? ... Build your goddamn muscles, huh? You know, you could build your muscles picking strawberries.You know, bend and scoop... like the Mexicans. Shit, maybe I could get you a job with United Fruit. I got a buddy with United Fruit. ... Get you started. Start with strawberries, you might work your way up to these goddamn bananas! When, boy? When...are you going to get your act together?Anthony: [Burps]Tempest Stoner: Gross.Arnold Stoner: Oh, good God Almighty me. I think he's the Antichrist. Anthony, I want to talk to you. [Anthony gathers his smoothie supplements and begins to walk out of the room.] Now, listen! Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you! You get a goddamn job before sundown, or we're shipping you off to military school with that goddamn Finkelstein shit kid! Son of a bitch!The whiteness of Anthony’s parents is signified so pervasively and so strikingly in this scene—in their improbable white outfits and in the room’s insufferably white décor—that we come to understand it as causative. The rage and racism of Mr. Stoner’s tirade, the scene suggests, is a product of whiteness itself. Given that whiteness achieves and maintains its domination via both ubiquity and invisibility, what Up in Smoke accomplishes in this scene is notable. Arnold Stoner’s tortured syntax (“that goddamn Finkelstein shit kid”) works to “mak[e] whiteness strange” (Dyer 4), while the scene’s exaggerated staging delineates whiteness as “a particular – even peculiar – identity, rather than a presumed norm” (Roediger, Colored White 21). The belligerence of the senior Stoners toward not only their son and each other, but the world at large, in turn, functions to render whiteness intrinsically ruthless and destructive. Anthony’s parents, in all their whiteness, enact David Roediger’s assertion that “it is not merely that ‘Whiteness’s is oppressive and false; it is that ‘Whiteness’s is nothing but oppressive and false” (Toward the Abolition 13).Anthony speaks not a word during the scene. He communicates only by belching and giving his parents the finger as he leaves the room and the home. This departure is significant in that it marks the moment when Anthony, hereafter known only as “Man,” flees the world of whiteness. He winds up taking refuge in the multi-hued world of stonerism, as embodied in the scene that follows, which features Pedro emerging from his home to interact with his Chicano neighbours and to lovingly inspect his car. As a lowrider, a customised vehicle that “begin[s] with the abandoned materials of one tradition (that of mainstream America), … [and is] … then transformed and recycled . . . into new and fresh objects of art which are distinctly Chicano,” Pedro’s car serves as a symbol of the cultural hybridisation that Man is about to undergo (quoted in Ondine 141).As Man’s muteness in the presence of his parents suggests, his racial status seems tentative from the start. Within the world of whiteness, Man is the subaltern, silenced and denigrated, finding voice only after he befriends Pedro. Even as the film identifies Man as white through his parental lineage, it renders indeterminate its own assertion, destabilising any such fixed or naturalised schema of identity. When Man is first introduced to Pedro’s band as their newest member, James, the band’s African American bass player, looks at Man, dressed in the uniform of the band, and asks: “Hey Pedro, where’s the white dude you said was playing the drums?” Clearly, from James’s point of view, the room contains no white dudes, just stoners. Man’s presumed whiteness becomes one of the film’s countless gags, the provocative ambiguity of the casting of a Chinese-European to play a white part underscored in the film by the equally implausible matter of age. Man, according to the film’s narrative, is a high school student; Chong was forty when the film was released. Like his age, Man’s whiteness is never a good fit. That Man ultimately winds up sleeping on the very couch upon which we first encounter Pedro suggests how radical and final the break with his dubious white past is. The “Mexicans” whom his father would mock as fit only for abject labour are amongst those whom Man comes to consider his closest companions. In departing his parents’ white world, and embracing Pedro’s dilapidated, barrio-based world of wastedness, Man traces the geographies narrated by George Lipsitz in The Possessive Investment in Whiteness. Historically, Lipsitz argues, the development of affluent white space (the suburbs) was made possible by the disintegration of African American, Chicano and other minority neighbourhoods disadvantaged by federal, state, and corporate housing, employment, health care, urban renewal, and education policies that favoured whites over non-whites. In this sense, Man’s flight from his parents’ home is a retreat from whiteness itself, and from the advantages that whiteness conveys. In choosing the ramshackle, non-white world of stonerism, Man performs an act of racial treachery. Whiteness, Lipsitz contends, has “cash value,” and “is invested in, like property, but it is also a means of accumulating property and keeping it from others,” which allows for “intergenerational transfers of inherited wealth that pass on the spoils of discrimination to succeeding generations” (vii-viii). Man’s disavowal of the privileges of whiteness is a reckless refusal to accept this racial birthright. Whiteness is thus wasted upon Man because Man wastes his whiteness. Given the centrality of prudence and restraint to hegemonic constructions of whiteness, Man’s willingness to squander the “valuable asset” that is his white inheritance is especially treasonous (Harris 1713). Man is the prodigal son of whiteness, a profligate who pours down the drain “the wages of whiteness” that his forbearers have spent generations accruing and protecting (Roediger, The Wages of Whiteness). His waste not only offends the core values which whiteness is said to comprise, it also denigrates whiteness itself by illuminating the excess of white privilege, as well as the unarticulated excess of meanings that hover around whiteness to create the illusion of transcendence and infinite variety. Man’s performance, like all bad performances of whiteness, “disrupt[s] implicit understandings of what it means to be white” (Hartigan 46). The spectre of seeing white domination go ‘up in smoke’—via wasting, as opposed to hoarding, white privilege—amounts to racial treason, and helps not only to explicate why whites in the film find stonerism so menacing, but also to explain the paradox of “pot [making] the people who don’t smoke it even more paranoid than the people who do” (Patterson). While Tommy Chong’s droll assertion that "what makes us so dangerous is that we're harmless" ridicules such paranoia, it ultimately fails to account for the politics of subversive squandering of white privilege that characterise the stoner film (“Biographies”). Stoners in Up in Smoke, as in most other stoner films, are marked as non-white, through association with ethnic Others, through their rejection of mainstream ideas about work and achievement, and/or through their lack of bodily restraint in relentlessly seeking pleasure, in dressing outrageously, and in refusing to abide conventional grooming habits. Significantly, the non-white status of the stoner is both voluntary and deliberate. While stonerism embraces its own non-whiteness, its Otherness is not signified, primarily, through racial cross-dressing of the sort Eric Lott detects in Elvis, but rather through race-mixing. Stoner collectivity practices an inclusivity that defies America’s historic practice of racial and ethnic segregation (Lott 248). Stonerism further reveals its unwillingness to abide constrictive American whiteness in a scene in which Pedro and Man, both US-born Americans, are deported. The pair are rounded up along with Pedro’s extended family in a raid initiated when Pedro’s cousin “narcs” on himself to la migra (the Immigration and Naturalization Service) in order to get free transport for his extended family to his wedding in Tijuana. Pedro and Man return to the US as unwitting tricksters, bringing back to the US more marijuana than has ever crossed the Mexican-US border at one time, fusing the relationship between transnationalism and wastedness. The disrespect that stoners exhibit for pregnable US borders contests presumed Chicano powerlessness in the face of white force and further affronts whiteness, which historically has mobilised itself most virulently at the threat of alien incursion. Transgression here is wilful and playful; stoners intend to offend normative values and taste through their actions, their dress, and non-white associations as part of the project of forging a new hybridised, transnational subjectivity that threatens to lay waste to whiteness’s purity and privilege. Stoners invite the scrutiny of white authority with their outrageous attire and ethnically diverse composition, turning the “inevitability of surveillance” (Borrie 87) into an opportunity to enact their own wastedness—their wasted privilege, their wasted youth, their wasted potential—before a gaze that is ultimately confounded and threatened by the chaotic hybridity with which it is faced (Hebdige 26). By perpetually displaying his/her wasted Otherness, the stoner makes of him/herself a “freak,” a label cops use derisively throughout Up in Smoke to denote the wasted without realising that stoners define themselves in precisely such terms, and, by doing so, obstruct whiteness’s assertion of universal subjectivity. Pedro’s cousin Strawberry (Tom Skerritt), a pot dealer, enacts freakishness by exhibiting a large facial birthmark and by suffering from Vietnam-induced Post Traumatic Stress disorder. A freak in every sense of the word, Strawberry is denied white status by virtue of physical and mental defect. But Strawberry, as a stoner, ultimately wants whiteness even less than it wants him. The defects that deny him membership in the exclusive “club” that is whiteness prove less significant than the choice he makes to defect from the ranks of whiteness and join with Man in the decision to waste his whiteness wantonly (“Editorial”). Stoner masculinity is represented as similarly freakish and defective. While white authority forcefully frustrates the attempts of Pedro and Man to “score” marijuana, the duo’s efforts to “score” sexually are thwarted by their own in/action. More often than not, wastedness produces impotence in Up in Smoke, either literally or figuratively, wherein the confusion and misadventures that attend pot-smoking interrupt foreplay. The film’s only ostensible sex scene is unconsummated, a wasted opportunity for whiteness to reproduce itself when Man sleeps through his girlfriend’s frenzied discussion of sex. During the course of Up in Smoke, Man dresses as a woman while hitchhiking, Pedro mistakes Man for a woman, Man sits on Pedro’s lap when they scramble to change seats whilst being pulled over by the police, Man suggests that Pedro has a “small dick,” Pedro reports liking “manly breasts,” and Pedro—unable to urinate in the presence of Sgt. Stedenko—tells his penis that if it does not perform, he will “put [it] back in the closet.” Such attenuations of the lead characters’ masculinity climax in the penultimate scene, in which Pedro, backed by his band, performs “Earache My Eye,” a song he has just composed backstage, whilst adorned in pink tutu, garter belt, tassle pasties, sequined opera mask and Mickey Mouse ears: My momma talkin’ to me tryin’ to tell me how to liveBut I don't listen to her cause my head is like a sieveMy daddy he disowned me cause I wear my sister's clothesHe caught me in the bathroom with a pair of pantyhoseMy basketball coach he done kicked me off the teamFor wearing high heeled sneakers and acting like a queen“Earache My Eye” corroborates the Othered natured of stonerism by marking stoners, already designated as non-white, as non-straight. In a classic iteration of a bad gender performance, the scene rejects both whiteness and its hegemonic partners-in-crime, heterosexuality and normative masculinity (Butler 26). Here stoners waste not only their whiteness, but also their white masculinity. Whiteness, and its dependence upon “intersection … [with] interlocking axes [of power such as] gender … [and] sexuality,” is “outed” in this scene (Shome 368). So, too, is it enfeebled. In rendering masculinity freakish and defective, the film threatens whiteness at its core. For if whiteness can not depend upon normative masculinity for its reproduction, then, like Man’s racial birthright, it is wasted. The stoner’s embodiment of freakishness further works to emphasise wasted whiteness by exposing just how hysterical whiteness’s defense of its own normativity can be. Up in Smoke frequently inflates not only the effects of marijuana, but also the eccentricities of those who smoke it, a strategy which means that much of the film’s humour turns on satirising hegemonic stereotypes of marijuana smokers. Equally, Cheech Marin’s exaggerated “slapstick, one-dimensional [portrayal] of [a] Chicano character” works to render ridiculous the very stereotypes his character incarnates (List 183). While the film deconstructs processes of social construction, it also makes extensive use of counter-stereotyping in its depictions of characters marked as white. The result is that whiteness’s “illusion of [its] own infinite variety” is contested and the lie of whiteness as non-raced is exposed, helping to explain the stoner’s decision to waste his/her whiteness (Dyer 12; 2). In Up in Smoke whiteness is the colour of straightness. Straights, who are willing neither to smoke pot nor to tolerate the smoking of pot by others/Others, are so comprehensively marked as white in the film that whiteness and straightness become isomorphic. As a result, the same stereotypes are mobilised in representing whiteness and straightness: incompetence, belligerence, hypocrisy, meanspiritedness, and paranoia, qualities that are all the more oppressive because virtually all whites/straights in the film occupy positions of authority. Anthony’s spectacularly white parents, as we have seen, are bigoted and dominating. Their whiteness is further impugned by alcohol, which fuels Mr. Stoner’s fury and Mrs. Stoner’s unintelligibility. That the senior Stoners are drunk before noon works, of course, to expose the hypocrisy of those who would indict marijuana use while ignoring the social damage alcohol can produce. Their inebriation (revealed as chronic in the DVD’s outtake scenes) takes on further significance when it is configured as a decidedly white attribute. Throughout the film, only characters marked as white consume alcohol—most notably, the judge who is discovered to be drinking vodka whist adjudicating drug charges against Pedro and Man—therefore dislodging whiteness’s self-construction as temperate, and suggesting just how wasted whiteness is. While stonerism is represented as pacific, drunkenness is of a piece with white/straight bellicosity. In Up in Smoke, whites/straights crave confrontation and discord, especially the angry, uptight, and vainglorious narcotics cop Sgt. Stedenko (Stacey Keech) who inhabits so many of the film’s counter-stereotypes. While a trio of white cops roughly apprehend and search a carload of innocent nuns in a manner that Man describes as “cold blooded,” Stedenko, unawares in the foreground, gives an interview about his plans for what he hopes will be the biggest border drug bust in US history: “[Reporter:] Do you expect to see any violence here today? [Sgt. Stedenko:] I certainly hope so.” Stedenko’s desire to act violently against stoners echoes mythologies of white regeneration in the Old West, wherein whiteness refurbished itself through violent attacks on Native Americans, whose wasteful cultures failed to make “civilised” use of western lands (Slotkin 565).White aggression is relentlessly depicted in the film, with one important exception: the instance of the stoned straight. Perhaps no other trope is as defining of the genre, as is the scene wherein a straight person accidentally becomes stoned. Up in Smoke offers several examples, most notably the scene in which a motorcycle cop pulls over Pedro and Man as they drive a van belonging to Pedro’s Uncle Chuey. In a plot twist requiring a degree of willing suspension of disbelief that even wasted audiences might find a stretch, the exterior shell of the van, unbeknownst to Pedro and Man, is made entirely of marijuana which has started to smoulder around the exhaust pipe. The cop, who becomes intoxicated whilst walking through the fumes, does not hassle Pedro and Man, as expected, but instead asks for a bite of their hot dog and then departs happily, instructing the duo to “have a nice day.” In declining, or perhaps simply forgetting, to exercise his authority, the cop demonstrates the regenerative potential not of violent whiteness but rather of hybrid wastedness. Marijuana here is transformative, morphing straight consciousness into stoner consciousness and, in the process, discharging all the uptight, mean-spirited, unnecessary, and hence wasteful baggage of whiteness along the way. While such a utopian potential for pot is both upheld and satirised in the film, the scene amounts to far more than an inconsequential generic gag, in that it argues for the disavowal of whiteness via the assumption of the voluntary Otherness that is stonerism. Whiteness, the scene suggests, can be cast off, discarded, wasted and thus surmounted. Whites, for want of a better phrase, simply need to ‘just say no’ to whiteness in order to excrete the brutality that is its necessary affliction and inevitable result. While Up in Smoke laudably offers a powerful refusal to horde the assets of whiteness, the film fails to acknowledge that ‘just saying no’ is, indeed, one of whiteness’s exclusive privileges, since whites and only whites possess the liberty to refuse the advantages whiteness bestows. Non-whites possess no analogical ability to jettison the social constructions to which they are subjected, to refuse the power of dominant classes to define their subjectivity. Neither does the film confront the fact that Man nor any other of Up in Smoke’s white freaks are disallowed from re-embracing their whiteness, and its attendant value, at any time. However inchoate the film’s challenge to racial privilege, Up in Smoke’s celebration of the subversive pleasures of wasting whiteness offers a tentative, if bleary, first step toward ‘the abolition of whiteness.’ Its utopian vision of a post-white hybridised subjectivity, however dazed and confused, is worthy of far more serious contemplation than the film, taken at face value, might seem to suggest. Perhaps Up in Smoke is a stoner film that should also be viewed while sober. ReferencesBill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Dir. Stephen Herek. Orion Pictures Corporation, 1989.“Biographies”. 10 June 2010 ‹http://www.cheechandchongfans.com/biography.html›. Borrie, Lee. "Wild Ones: Containment Culture and 1950s Youth Rebellion”. Diss. University of Canterbury, 2007.Butler, Judith. "Critically Queer”. GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies 1.1 (1993): 17-32.Chavoya, C. Ondine. “Customized Hybrids: The Art of Ruben Ortiz Torres and Lowriding in Southern California”. 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