Journal articles on the topic 'Schmidt, Harvey'

Records oolleoted from National Milk Reoords (NMR) are used by the Milk Marketing Board (MMB) to produoe genetio evaluations for bulls (Improved Contemporary Comparisons), cows (Cow Genetic Indices) and a management index for cows (Cow Production Index). It is Important to eliminate systematic environmental effects such as age at calving, month of calving and parity. The need for such adjustments and the factors involved have been documented by Schmidt and Van Vleck (1974). The purpose of this study was to calculate new adjustment factors for each dairy breed for inclusion In bull and cow evaluations.Sire identified milk reoords of at least 200 days from cows completing laotations in 1885/8S were seleoted from the NMR data base for Ayrshires (A), Jerseys U) and Guernseys (G). Shorthorn (S) records from 1984 were also selected in order to provide sufficient data for analysis. A 10% sample of records were selected for Friesian/Holsteins (F/H) from 1987. The first five lactations were Included. The analyses were performed upon 16,878 S, 37,668 A, 38,925 J, 26,008 G and 80,445 F/H reoords respectively The data were analysed using a least square analysis of varianoe (Harvey 1977).

This study empirically examines the behaviour of Indonesian stock market under the efficient market hypothesis framework by emphasizing on the random walk behaviour and nonlinearity over the period of April 1983 - December 2010. In the first step, the standard linear unit root test, namely the augmented Dickey-Fuller (ADF) test, Phillip-Perron (PP) test and Kwiatkowski-Philllips-Schmidt-Shin (KPSS) test identify the random walk behaviour in the indices. In order to take account the possible breaks in the index series Zivot and Adrews (1992) one break and Lumsdaine and Papell (1997) two breaks unit root test are employed to observe whether the presence of breaks in the data series will prevent the stocks from randomly pricing or vice versa. In the third step, we employ Harvey et al. (2008) test to examine the presence of nonlinear behaviour in Indonesian stock indices. The evidence of nonlinear behaviour in the indices, motivate us to use nonlinear unit root test procedure recently developed by Kapetanios et al. (2003) and Kruse (2010). In general, the results from standard linear unit root test, Zivot and Adrews (ZA) test and Lumsdaine and Papell (LP) test provide evidence that Jakarta Composite Index characterized by a unit root. In addition, structural breaks identified by ZA and LP test are corresponded to the events of financial market liberalization and financial crisis. The nonlinear unit root test procedure fail to rejects the null hypothesis of unit root for all indices, suggesting that Jakarta Composite Index characterized by random walk process supporting the theory of efficient market hypothesis.

Referat zur Arbeit von Wang C, Schmid CH, Fielding RA, Harvey WF, Kieran F Reid KF, Price LL, Driban JB, Kalish R, Rones R, McAlindon T. Effect of tai chi versus aerobic exercise for fibromyalgia: comparative effectiveness randomized controlled trial. BMJ 2018; 360: k851

Afro-Atlantic Dialogues: Anthropology in the Diaspora, edited by Kevin A. Yelvington (reviewed by Aisha Khan)Central Africans, Atlantic Creoles, and the Foundation of the Americas, 1585-1660, by Linda M. Heywood & John K. Thornton (reviewed by James H. Sweet)An Eye for the Tropics: Tourism, Photography, and Framing the Caribbean Picturesque, by Krista A. Thompson (reviewed by Carl Thompson)Taíno Indian Myth and Practice: The Arrival of the Stranger King, by William F. Keegan (reviewed by Frederick H. Smith) Historic Cities of the Americas: An Illustrated Encyclopedia, by David F. Marley (reviewed by Richard L. Kagan) Arming Slaves: From Classical Times to the Modern Age, edited by Christopher Leslie Brown & Philip D. Morgan (reviewed by James Sidbury)Sweet Negotiations: Sugar, Slavery, and Plantation Agriculture in Early Barbados, by Russell R. Menard (reviewed by Kenneth Morgan)Jamaica in 1850 or, The Effects of Sixteen Years of Freedom on a Slave Colony, by John Bigelow (reviewed by Jean Besson) Moral Capital: Foundations of British Abolitionism, by Christopher Leslie Brown (reviewed by Cassandra Pybus) Caribbean Journeys: An Ethnography of Migration and Home in Three Family Networks, by Karen Fog Olwig (reviewed by George Gmelch) Afro-Caribbean Immigrants and the Politics of Incorporation: Ethnicity, Exception, or Exit, by Reuel R. Rogers (reviewed by Kevin Birth) Puerto Rican Arrival in New York: Narratives of the Migration, 1920-1950, edited by Juan Flores (reviewed by Wilson A. Valentín-Escobar)The Conquest of History: Spanish Colonialism and National Histories in the Nineteenth Century, by Christopher Schmidt-Nowara (reviewed by Aline Helg)Gender and Slave Emancipation in the Atlantic World, edited by Pamela Scully & Diana Paton (reviewed by Bernard Moitt) Gender and Democracy in Cuba, by Ilja A. Luciak (reviewed by Florence E. Babb) The “New Man” in Cuba: Culture and Identity in the Revolution, by Ana Serra (reviewed by Jorge Duany) Lydia Cabrera and the Construction of an Afro-Cuban Cultural Identity, by Edna M. Rodríguez-Mangual (reviewed by Brian Brazeal) Worldview, the Orichas, and Santeria: Africa to Cuba and Beyond, by Mercedes Cros Sandoval (reviewed by Elizabeth Pérez)The 1812 Aponte Rebellion in Cuba and the Struggle against Atlantic Slavery, by Matt D. Childs (reviewed by Manuel Barcia) Caliban and the Yankees: Trinidad and the United States Occupation, by Harvey R. Neptune (reviewed by Selwyn Ryan) Claims to Memory: Beyond Slavery and Emancipation in the French Caribbean, by Catherine A. Reinhardt (reviewed by Dominique Taffin) The Grand Slave Emporium, Cape Coast Castle and the British Slave Trade, by William St. Clair (reviewed by Ray A. Kea) History of the Caribbean, by Frank Moya Pons (reviewed by Olwyn M. Blouet) Out of the Crowded Vagueness: A History of the Islands of St Kitts, Nevis & Anguilla, by Brian Dyde (reviewed by Karen Fog Olwig) Scoping the Amazon: Image, Icon, Ethnography, by Stephen Nugent (reviewed by Neil L. Whitehead)

The contemporary neoliberal city exists within the context of the immateriality of the contemporary economy, the dominance of financial speculation over commodity exchange and the transition of the city from the political subject to a mere resource used by global corporations and institutions (Hirst 2005; Harvey 2012; Marazzi 2010). There is an obvious conflict between the city as a material entity, and the immaterial forces of global capitalism. In this context, Carl Schmitt and Jacob Taubes provide useful tools with which to create a theoretical framework to re-establish discussion of the city as a political and economic subject. I will begin by referring to Schmitt’s considerations of territory and the conflict between the telluric logic, the sea logic and the air logic as presented in his work ‘The Nomos of the Earth in the International Law of the Jus Publicum Europaeum’ (Schmitt 2003). I will continue by discussing Jacob Taubes, who in his Occidental Eschatology (Taubes 2009) provided the tools with which to reject the Heideggerean, reactionary understanding of place, and invented a new type of place – the ‘Taubesian place’, a place where a revolution could be started. As a theoretical context for these considerations, I have referenced the Partisan figure presented by Schmitt (2004), through Taubes considerations of space and history.

No two names better recall the polarized character of political life in mid-century Europe than Carl Schmitt and Hannah Arendt. Like so many of his peers in the Weimar intelligentsia, Schmitt eagerly polemicized against the Weimar Republic and actively sought its destruction. In 1933, he sold his soul to the Nazis and soon became one of their most impressive intellectual apologists. In striking contrast, Arendt risked her life to help anti-fascists and fellow Jews struggling to escape Germany in the immediate aftermath of the Nazi takeover. Forced to join the ranks of the thousands of “stateless” persons stripped of their German citizenship by the new regime, she ultimately found her way to New York City and a stunning career as one of our century's most impressive critics of totalitarianism. While Schmitt would continue to seize every opportunity to belittle the achievements of liberal democracy, even after the establishment of the relatively robust German Federal Republic in 1949, Arendt refused to abandon her chosen Heimat, the United States, even in its darkest hours. For Arendt, Vietnam and Watergate offered indisputable proof that the republican legacy of the American founding demanded our critical loyalty, but hardly—as one can imagine Schmitt arguing—of the inevitability of senseless political violence and authoritarian government.

In this contribution we want to discuss M star atmospheres and their dependence on molecular opacities. A star belongs to the spectral class M if its optical and infrared spectrum shows strong bands of TiO and numerous strong metal lines so that for wavelengths < 4000 Å there is “hardly any flux left” (Jaschek & Jaschek 1987). M stars cover a very large range in luminosity: M dwarfs are the intrinsically faintest stars, whereas M giants and supergiants reach luminosities that are among the highest known. General properties of these objects are given in Table 1 (after Schmidt-Kaler 1982).

Les Acadiens du sud-est du Nouveau-Brunswick sont confrontés aux forces assimilatrices des anglophones et aux exigences d’un français standard. Les modèles de rejet-identification (Branscombe, Schmitt et Harvey, 1999) et du concept de soi (Taylor, 1997; 2002) sont mis à l’épreuve dans le but d’examiner les réponses au désavantage social des adolescents d’origine acadienne. En tout, 36 adolescents acadiens du sud-est du Nouveau-Brunswick ont participé à une entrevue semi-dirigée. Selon les résultats, les participants portent un fardeau d’infériorité par rapport aux francophones du Québec. Différents discours sont entretenus concernant les anglophones et engendrent six profils identitaires différents. Les résultats confirment la diversité de l’influence des exogroupes majoritaires sur le cheminement identitaire collectif des jeunes Acadiens. De plus, l’analyse révèle que les jeunes issus du profil nommé bilingue à orientation anglophone éprouvent des difficultés quant à leur bien-être psychologique.

Natural products play a crucial role in drug discovery. In the last decade, the advent of marine natural product research has produced a remarkable number of compounds, particularly those isolated from marine sponges, with a broad range of activities for the treatment of human and animal diseases. In this study, five known alkaloids namely aaptamine (1), 9-demethylaaptamine (2), 4- N-methylaaptamine (3), 9-methoxyaaptamine (4), 9-demethyloxyaaptamine (5), an uncommon amide in sponge, 4-hydroxybenzamide (6) and 3 β,5α-cholesterol (7) were isolated from the butanol extract of Aaptos aaptos (Schmidt, 1864) by bioactivity-guided isolation. Their structures were determined based on a detailed analysis of their 1D and 2D spectroscopic NMR and EIMS spectral data as well as comparison with literature data. Cytotoxic activity and anti-atherosclerotic property of the compounds were determined based on their ability to increase the transcriptional activity of SRB1 promoter and PPRE in human liver HepG2 cell line. The results showed that compounds 4 and 7 exhibited cytotoxic effects and compounds 1–4 and 7 increased the transcriptional activity of SRB1 promoter and PPRE. This suggests that compounds isolated from A. aaptos may have potential as anti-cancer agents and to reduce the progression of atherosclerosis. In addition, the compounds 1–4 displayed antibacterial activity against shrimp pathogenic bacteria, Vibrio harveyi and Vibrio sp. This suggests that the compounds have potential as vibriosis treatment.

In the 12 years since Studies in Second Language Acquisition published its first thematic collection on L2 lexical issues, “The use and acquisition of the second language lexicon,” edited by S. Gass (1987), the centrality of lexical development in second language acquisition has received ever increasing recognition from researchers (see, for example, volumes by Arnaud & Béjoint, 1992; Coady & Huckin, 1997; Haastrup, 1991; Haastrup & Viberg, 1998; Harley, 1995, 1996; Hatch & Brown, 1995; Huckin, Haynes, & Coady, 1993; Meara, 1992; Nation, 1990; Schmitt & McCarthy, 1997; Schreuder & Weltens, 1993; Tréville, 1993; Tréville & Duquette, 1996). The 1987 collection was a leading foray into new territory, following a period of relative neglect of the lexicon in SLA. The issues taken up by its authors were quite diverse, ranging from the organization and components of the L2 lexicon, to aspects of acquisition such as cross-linguistic influence, restructuring, and rate, to L2 lexical-use issues such as retrieval and access. Since that time, a large body of L2 research and theory has developed around these and other topics, and it has become possible to deal comprehensively with single core issues in L2 lexical acquisition from multiple perspectives. The current collection is one such attempt, offering a set of related papers on the topic of incidental L2 vocabulary acquisition. Unlike the 1987 collection, which argued for recognition of the importance of the lexicon in a field dominantly concerned with the acquisition of syntax, the authors of the present collection assume the central importance of lexical acquisition.

An Ancillary Meeting on the topic of ‘Terrorist Victimization: Prevention, Control, and Recovery’ was held at the United Nations Center in Vienna, Austria on Wednesday, April 12, 2000 in conjunction with the Tenth United Nations Congress on the Prevention of Crime and the Treatment of Offenders. The Congress focused on ‘Crime and Justice: Meeting the Challenges of the 21 st Century.’ The Ancillary Meeting was sponsored by the State University of New York, Plattsburgh, USA and chaired by Dr. Dilip K. Das, Professor in the Department of Sociology and Criminal Justice at that University. The speakers included Alex P. Schmid, Officer-in-Charge, Terrorism Prevention Branch, United Nations; George H. Millard, Sao Paulo, Brazil, Dr. Ely Karmon, Senior Research Scholar, International Policy Institute for Counter-Terrorism, Kerzlyia, Israel; and Dr. Harvey W. Kushner, Professor and Chair, Department of Criminal Justice and Security Administration, Long Island University, Brookville, New York, USA. Other presentations were made by Dr. David Rapoport, University of California, Los Angeles, California, USA; Niles Lathem, The New York Post, Washington, D.C., USA, Arvind Verma, Department of Criminal Justice, Indiana University, Bloomington, Indiana, USA, Dr. S. Subramanian, Raghavendra Nagar Shvrampally, Hyderabad, India, George Ballard, Grand Valley State University, Allendale, Michigan, USA and Boaz Ganor, International Policy Institute for Counter-Terrorism, Herzlyia, Israel. In the presentations by speakers from Europe, North America, North Africa, the Middle East, Asia and South America and in the ensuing discussions, a wide variety of issues, concerns, and prevention strategies were covered in a global framework, and also applied to situations in specific countries and continents. The papers and the sessions focused on a number of themes, including an assessment of the main contemporary trends in terrorism, the politicalization of terrorism, the effects that terrorism has on primary and secondary victims, the linkage of terrorism with organized crime, and the measures that governments, international organizations, and justice agencies can take to curtail and eradicate terrorism, including international cooperative efforts.

The welfare state aspect is among the central characteristics of German statehood as established by the constitution. For the Basic Law's drafters, it was so indispensable that they included the mandate of a welfare state in the catalogue of constitutional principles which are to have eternal validity within the constitution and which could only be dispensed with at the cost of breaching the constitution, the cost of revolution (Article 79(3) of the Basic Law (Grundgesetzin German; hereinafter “GG”)). Article 79(3) GG codifies the distinction between constitution and constitutional provision made prominent by Carl Schmitt, whose constitutional doctrine of 1928 asserted that, while the constitutional legislature can amend an individual provision in the constitution, the constitution as a whole is not to be changed short of political action transcending the law, that is, a revolution. Article 79(3) GG takes up this idea, insulating certain features of the constitution from amendment. These features—outside all democratic reach and thus quasi depoliticized—include the inviolability of human dignity (Article 1(1) GG) and the nature of the state as a democracy, a republic, a federal state based on the rule of law, and a “social” state (Article 20(1) GG). On closer scrutiny, the principles underlying the state's structure reveal a significant difference between, on the one hand, the principles of democracy, federalism, the rule of law, and republicanism and, on the other, the principle of the welfare state. The four former features stem from long traditions in constitutional law; modern political philosophy has detailed them precisely and the Basic Law concretizes them in thorough regulations. In contrast, the political history of ideas has failed to produce a “flag-bearing” thinker for the welfare state. The establishment of the welfare state has played no significant role in constitutional history. And, on first glance, even the Basic Law seems to provide hardly any specifics as to what exactly makes up its “social” state or, in particular, what normative consequences follow from this constitutional principle. This raises the question: What actually justifies the principle of the welfare state's illustrious position among those constitutional entities endowed with highest relevance? The following discussion develops the answer: Regardless of its limited historical and theoretical traditions, the principle of theSozialstaatfinds its meaning beyond its doctrinal content in its own distinct, symbolic substance.

The costume which has recently become the focus of many scientific disciplines has hardly attracted literary critics: the methodology of its research in fiction is just beginning to take shape. The historical and cultural approach, which essentially boils down to a commentary has been replaced by a very productive structural and semiotic approach that deciphers the semantics and functions of the costume. The methodology of our research is of a complex nature, combining the structural-semiotic, mythopoetic, and motivic aspects of the analysis of literary texts. The narratological aspect in the study of costume poetics is emphasized, which, as a rule, remains outside the scope of research.The narratological aspect is aimed at identifying “flickering” meanings in the structure of the whole – “prose as poetry” (V. Schmid).The dynamics of costume descriptions, their functionality in the structure of the whole and the specifics in the organization of the narrative (taking into account the “point of view”, the motive given by costume details and based on semantic nodes that connect polar meanings, etc.) are at the center of our research.Thanks to costume inclusions, the text of the novel The Noble Nest becomes multidimensional. Thus, the characterological detail of Panshin – a screw-shaped Golden ring is situational and at the same time conceptual: it connects the “beginnings” and “ends” of his story, symbolically programming fate. Laconic sketches of Lavretsky’s clothing, scattered throughout the text, formalizing the opposition of one’s own/ another’s, prepare a motif of loneliness and homelessness. In layered narrative created by the play of the author’s and character’s points of view, Lavretsky’s point of view “migrates” to the author’s one replacing it (“poetic” sign of the optics of the hero) and then separates from it. The content of the method of crushing, which replaced the silhouette image, is an expression of the confusion of the soul, deforming the female image. The details in Lavretsky’s “split” point of view are ambiguous: on the one hand, there is alienation, on the other hand, there is a subconscious attraction to the beloved woman in the primary, unreflexed sense of a person losing happiness. The novel’s flickering meaning is created by semantic nodes that match polarities. “White” is the symbolic color of the national, rooted in the soil (the white caps of Marfa Timofeevna and Nastasya Karpovna), and at the same time the ghostly, impossible realization of happiness (the rhyming white dress of Lisa and the white dress on the portrait of Lavretsky’s mother). “Black” is also ambivalent: the elegant black silk dress of Varvara Pavlovna and the unnamed color of Lisa’s monastic clothes in the Epilogue. The scarf that Marfa Timofeevna knits is a mythologeme that encodes the story of love and failed happiness and at the same time the semantic core of the poetics of incompleteness. Keywords: costume, costume poetics, mythologeme, narrative, semantics, point of view

Research suggests that child independence is more popular in countries with greater wealth and a higher percentage of the educated population. Various research implications expect children's independence and compliance to increase over time in developing countries. This study aims to describe the independence of early childhood who comes from low-income families or at low socioeconomic environment. Using quantitative descriptive, data collection techniques are carried out through a questionnaire. The study population was 30 respondents from the ECE institution who were included in the list of low-income families in 2018, using an area sampling technique. Overall, the teacher stated that all indicators of dependence on children from low-income families had reached the high category, which was 75%. The implication of further research is that aspects of independence in physical abilities, self-confidence, responsibility, discipline, sociability, sharing, and independence in terms of emotional control in early childhood can develop better in a low socio-economic environment. Keywords: Early Childhood, Independence skills, low-socioeconomic environment References [BPS] Badan Pusat Statistik. (2019). Berita resmi statistik. Bps.Go.Id. Amini, M. (2018). Parental Involvement in Improving Independence in Early Childhood. Advances in Social Science, Education and Humanities Research (ASSEHR), 169(Icece 2017), 190–192. https://doi.org/10.2991/icece-17.2018.48 Blair, C., & Diamond, A. (2008). Biological processes in prevention and intervention: The promotion of self-regulation as a means of preventing school failure. Development and Psychopathology, 20(3), 899–911. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0954579408000436 Blair, C., & Raver, C. C. (2015). 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J., Boyce, W. T., Belsky, J., Bakermans-Kranenburg, M. J., & Van Ijzendoorn, M. H. (2011). Differential susceptibility to the environment: An evolutionary- neurodevelopmental theory. Development and Psychopathology, 23(1), 7–28. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0954579410000611 Evans, G. W., & Kim, P. (2013). Childhood Poverty, Chronic Stress, Self-Regulation, and Coping. Child Development Perspectives, 7(1), 43–48. https://doi.org/10.1111/cdep.12013 Fay-Stammbach, T., Hawes, D. J., & Meredith, P. (2014). Parenting Influences on Executive Function in Early Childhood: A Review. Child Development Perspectives, 8(4), 258–264. https://doi.org/10.1111/cdep.12095 Havighurst, S. S., Wilson, K. R., Harley, A. E., Prior, M. R., & Kehoe, C. (2010). Tuning in to Kids: Improving emotion socialization practices in parents of preschool children-findings from a community trial. 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The algal flora of the Island of Santa Maria (eastern group of the Azores archipelago) has attracted interest of researchers on past occasions (Drouët 1866, Agardh 1870, Trelease 1897, Schmidt 1931, Ardré et al. 1974, Fralick and Hehre 1990, Neto et al. 1991, Morton and Britton 2000, Amen et al. 2005, Wallenstein and Neto 2006, Tittley et al. 2009, Wallenstein et al. 2009a, Wallenstein et al. 2010, Botelho et al. 2010, Torres et al. 2010, León-Cisneros et al. 2011, Martins et al. 2014, Micael et al. 2014, Rebelo et al. 2014, Ávila et al. 2015, Ávila et al. 2016, Machín-Sánchez et al. 2016, Uchman et al. 2016, Johnson et al. 2017, Parente et al. 2018). Nevertheless, the Island macroalgal flora is not well-known as published information reflects limited collections obtained in short-term visits by scientists. To overcome this, a thorough investigation, encompassing collections and presence data recording, was undertaken at both the littoral and sublittoral levels down to a depth of approximately 40 m, covering an area of approximately 64 km2. The resultant taxonomic records are listed in the present paper which also provides information on species ecology and occurrence around the Island, improving, thereby, the knowledge of the Azorean macroalgal flora at both local and regional scales. A total of 2329 specimens (including some taxa identified only to genus level) belonging to 261 taxa of macroalgae are registered, comprising 152 Rhodophyta, 43 Chlorophyta and 66 Ochrophyta (Phaeophyceae). Of these, 174 were identified to species level (102 Rhodophyta, 29 Chlorophyta and 43 Ochrophyta), encompassing 52 new records for the Island (30 Rhodophyta, 9 Chlorophyta and 13 Ochrophyta), 2 Macaronesian endemics (Laurencia viridis Gil-Rodríguez & Haroun; and Millerella tinerfensis (Seoane-Camba) S.M.Boo & J.M.Rico), 10 introduced (the Rhodophyta Acrothamnion preissii (Sonder) E.M.Wollaston, Antithamnion hubbsii E.Y.Dawson, Asparagopsis armata Harvey, Bonnemaisonia hamifera Hariot, Melanothamnus harveyi (Bailey) Díaz-Tapia & Maggs, Scinaia acuta M.J.Wynne and Symphyocladia marchantioides (Harvey) Falkenberg; the Chlorophyta Codium fragile subsp. fragile (Suringar) Hariot; and the Ochrophyta Hydroclathrus tilesii (Endlicher) Santiañez & M.J.Wynne, and Papenfussiella kuromo (Yendo) Inagaki) and 18 species of uncertain status (11 Rhodophyta, 3 Chlorophyta and 4 Ochrophyta).

The algal flora of the western group of the Azores archipelago (Islands of Flores and Corvo) has attracted the interest of many researchers on numerous past occasions (such as Drouet 1866, Trelease 1897, Gain 1914, Schmidt 1929, Schmidt 1931, Azevedo et al. 1990, Fralick and Hehre 1990, Neto and Azevedo 1990, Neto and Baldwin 1990, Neto 1996, Neto 1997, Neto 1999, Tittley and Neto 1996, Tittley and Neto 2000, Tittley and Neto 2005, Tittley and Neto 2006, Azevedo 1998, Azevedo 1999, Tittley et al. 1998, Dionísio et al. 2008, Neto et al. 2008). Despite this interest, the macroalgal flora of the Islands cannot be described as well-known with the published information reflecting limited collections preformed in short-term visits by scientists. To overcome this, a thorough investigation, encompassing collections and presence data recording, has been undertaken for both the littoral and sublittoral regions, down to a depth of approximately 40 m, covering a relatively large area on both Islands (approximately 143 km2 for Flores and 17 km2 for Corvo). This paper lists the resultant taxonomic records and provides information on species ecology and occurrence around both these Islands, thereby improving the knowledge of the Azorean macroalgal flora at both local and regional scales. For the Island of Flores, a total of 1687 specimens (including some taxa identified only to genus level) belonging to 196 taxa of macroalgae are registered, comprising 120 Rhodophyta, 35 Chlorophyta and 41 Ochrophyta (Phaeophyceae). Of these taxa, 128 were identified to species level (80 Rhodophyta, 22 Chlorophyta and 26 Ochrophyta), encompassing 37 new records for the Island (20 Rhodophyta, 6 Chlorophyta and 11 Ochrophyta); two Macaronesian endemics (Laurencia viridis Gil-Rodríguez & Haroun and Millerella tinerfensis (Seoane-Camba) S.M.Boo & J.M.Rico); six introduced (the Rhodophyta Asparagopsis armata Harvey, Neoizziella divaricata (C.K.Tseng) S.-M.Lin, S.-Y.Yang & Huisman and Symphyocladia marchantioides (Harvey) Falkenberg; the Chlorophyta Codium fragile subsp. fragile (Suringar) Hariot; and the Ochrophyta Hydroclathrus tilesii (Endlicher) Santiañez & M.J.Wynne and Papenfussiella kuromo (Yendo) Inagaki); and 14 species of uncertain status (10 Rhodophyta, two Chlorophyta and two Ochrophyta). For the Island of Corvo, a total of 390 specimens distributed in 56 taxa of macroalgae are registered, comprising 30 Rhodophyta, nine Chlorophyta and 17 Ochrophyta (Phaeophyceae). Whilst a number of taxa were identified only to the genus level, 43 were identified to species level (22 Rhodophyta, eight Chlorophyta and 13 Ochrophyta), comprising 22 new records for the Island (nine Rhodophyta, four Chlorophyta and nine Ochrophyta), two introduced species (the Rhodophyta Asparagopsis armata and the Chlorophyta Codium fragile subsp. fragile and seven species of uncertain status (five Rhodophyta and two Ochrophyta).

AbstractClaus Schnabel discusses the reasoning and the consequences of the recent parliamentary draft bill, which intends to restore the traditional principle of one collective bargaining agreement per business in Germany that has been overturned by the Federal Labour Court. The author argues that the empirical evidence on the effects of allowing multiple bargaining agreements and of the recently emerged occupational unions on strikes, wages and transaction costs is weak and does not justify the encroachment on the freedom of association associated with this bill.Ronald Bachmann and Christoph M. Schmidt argue that since 2010, when the Federal Labour Court eased restrictions on multi-unionism, hardly any signs of adverse effects of this court ruling can be observed. Furthermore, the draft bill would have strong negative consequences for small, mainly occupation-based, unions in Germany. Therefore, the bill does not seem to be a good instrument for regulating labour relations in Germany.Martin Henssler welcomes the plans of the German Government to clarify the legal questions arising from a collision of collective labour agreements caused by a revised jurisdiction. Companies need clear guidelines on how to handle the demands of several trade unions. Reciprocally, the trade unions, too, need legal security shown, for example, by the high compensation claims against the Air Traffic Controllers’ Union (GDF) jeopardizing its existence. The legislator should no longer allow the collective labour system in the field of essential services to suffer from a growing discontent of the affected citizens being the main sufferers from the strikes.

AbstractLiterary scholars draw comparisons more often than they reflect on the practice of that drawing. Our study of comparisons in hermeneutic practice shows that comparative study is not merely a characteristic of general and comparative literary studies. It can also be found as a (generally qualitative) practice within the monolingual disciplines. The comparison of texts with similar themes is particularly widespread and popular, typically discovering through this comparison the differences and similarities of the literary treatment, in order to prove the aesthetic worth of a work and thus to make increased aesthetic pleasure possible. In addition, there are also studies which, through comparison of sample texts test the validity of statements about literary history or the typology of genres. The practice is particularly associated with comparative literary studies, which claims thus to overcome the limitations of monolingual literary studies. In principle, this form of test study can be extended to an unlimited number of cases, whereby philologists can, among other things, demonstrate how well-read they are. Nevertheless, this form of comparison, too, has to date mostly been used qualitatively, without exploring the potential of a quantitative expansion of the study.Making reference to Descartes’ thesis (1628) that every growth in knowledge is always grounded in a comparison, it is discussed under what circumstances individual case studies may be understood as technically comparative in nature. In this regard one should be careful not to rob the concept of the comparison of the element of differentiation. Therefore, in what follows, we only class studies as comparative when they consider at least two cases (e. g. at least two works), although the main interest of the study may be reserved for one case.Further, in literary studies, comparisons may be used both to discover the characteristics of the object investigated (›discovery function‹) and as a (sometimes comparatively conceived) control testing the scope of assertions or hypotheses (›control function‹). The emphasis of the use of comparison, as a rule, lies on the qualitative description of the complexity of individual selected cases, whose aesthetic value and place in literary history may thus be judged. By contrast, quantitative comparisons of a few variables within many cases are seldom used by literary scholars. Literary studies have to date hardly taken into account the contrast between quantitative and qualitative comparisons which has been so thoroughly discussed in social science, nor of the attempts to overcome this contrast (for instance through multi-value comparative quantitative analysis, which takes account not only of the need to revise hypotheses, but also the possible necessity of the revision of categories during or after the drawing of comparisons). Instead, an appeal to the ›incomparability‹ of literary art, made as early as 1902 by Benedetto Croce frequently recurs, or the argument, borrowed from Ethnology and Religious Studies, for the need for necessary ›respect for the unique and different nature‹ (Haupt 2013) of the object of study is often made. Earlier attempts at empiricisation, for instance the empirical study of literature movement of the 1970s (cf. Schmidt 2005), were unable to establish themselves, much less become part of the regular course of German Studies. This was partly because the fundamentally hermeneutically oriented field of literary studies could not accept the empiricists’ rejection of hermeneutic methods (cf. Ort 1994). There was an almost reflex professorial defence of interpretative reading.Consequently, we think it important that empiricism should no longer be conceived of as an argument against hermeneutic approaches to philological objects of study, but rather to make it available as a useful aid to the improvement of established methods of literary study (cf. Groeben 2013). Literary studies can thus work against the reproach that its generalisations are based at best on insufficient data, and at worst on mere intuition. Building on the often overlooked, but well established philological technique of comparing parallel passages, we wish to demonstrate how, where, and to what extent, the corpus technology offered by the digital humanities can help to empiricise literary studies. Corpora offer, in the first instance, the possibility of qualitative comparison of verbal parallels, but also to make parallels of content in the form of intersubjectively explicable, repeatable search procedures more transparent (cf. Fricke 1991, 2007). In this respect, the comparison of parallel passages, an old established hermeneutic method can be made empirical.In a further step, we will discuss the possibilities of quantitative comparisons in corpora (i. e. hypothesis-led variables oriented comparisons): on the one hand, the statistical description of corpora through stylometrics, which allows texts as a whole to be described, for instance in terms of word and sentence length, or the frequency of specific graphemes; on the other the analysis of collocations and the determination of »usuelle Wortverbindungen« (common multi-word expressions), which allow for the study of individual textual characteristics. In this connection, we discuss the necessity and usefulness of comparative corpora for the scope of statements determined via corpus analysis, as well as the dependence of the quality of the comparison of parallel passages on the quality of the chosen corpus.To what extent literary studies as a field will adopt these statistical comparative techniques as a philological method in the age of the digital humanities, remains to be seen. We are, given the aversion to statistical matters which this predominantly hermeneutically oriented discipline has shown to date, somewhat sceptical. We are also sceptical about whether corpus linguistic quality standards of corpora composition will be accepted. We would therefore consider not only statistically based procedures for composing corpora, but also other means of plausibilization, such as the explication of the texts studied, and an argument for their selection, to be not only legitimate but appropriate.Despite the field of literary studies’ continued reluctance to use quantitative methods, we still see a possibility that quantitative textual comparisons could provide a stimulus to standardisation. Corpus based comparisons make us aware that the comparison of many texts presupposes explicit assumptions about the comparability of what is compared. This requires a precise formulation of the questions to be explored, as well as a precise explication of the textual phenomena studied, so that exact statements about the relationships between the characteristics compared become possible.

Abstract Purpose. To know the perceptions of mothers and health professionals in relation to the care provided and received during breastfeeding at primary health care level.Methods. A qualitative exploratory study was conducted with breastfeeding mothers (10) and primary health care professionals (24). Data was gathered through indepth interviews and focus groups. Data analysis was performed through thematic content analysis. The rigor of the study was ensured by the Guba and Lincoln criteria for qualitative research. Ethical aspects were addressed through the informed consent process, confidentiality, and methodological rigor.Results. The experience of providing/receiving breastfeeding support was revealed as a dynamic, multidimensional care and support process, through three central themes: 1. Influence of previous care and support experiences during the breastfeeding process; 2. Importance of the context within which care is framed; and 3. Addressing emotions to establish trust between professionals and mothers.Conclusion. The study findings contribute to further understanding a complex phenomenon, such as breastfeeding support and care for mothers/families, from the experience of the actors involved, deepening the experiences of both in integrated manner. In addition, the relational, organizational, and contextual dimensions that influence support, and that should guide care, are also highlighted.Descriptors: breastfeeding; mothers; primary care nursing; qualitative research.How to cite this article: Lucchini-Raies C, Márquez-Doren F, Garay Unjidos N, Contreras J, Jara D, Calabacero C, et al., Care during Breastfeeding: Perceptions of Mothers and Health Professionals. Invest. Educ. Enferm. 2019; 37(2):e09ReferencesWorld Health Organisation. Infant and young child feeding [Internet]. 2017; (cited 03 May 2019):23–5. Available from: http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs342/en/ Rosso F, Skarmeta N, Sade A. Informe técnico: Encuesta nacional de la lactancia materna en la atención primaria ENALMA. Chile 2013 [Internet]. Santiago: Ministerio de Salud; 2013. Available from: http://web.minsal.cl/sites/default/files/INFORME_FINAL_ENALMA_2013.pdf Rodríguez L. Situación actual de la lactancia materna y regulación para su protección y promoción. Santaigo; 2017. MINSAL. Prestaciones Chile crece Contigo [Internet]. Santiago: Ministerio de Salud; 2017 [cited 23 Jan. 2017]. p. 7. Available from: http://www.crececontigo.gob.cl/sobre-chile-crece-contigo/que-ofrece/ Balogun O, O’Sullivan E, McFadden A, Ota E, Gavine A, Garner C, et al. Interventions for promoting the initiation of breastfeeding (Review). Cochrane Database Syst. Rev. 2016; (11):100. Niño MR, Silva GAE. Factores asociados a la lactancia materna exclusiva. Rev. Chil. Pediatr. 2012; 83(2):161–9. Burns E, Schmied V. “The right help at the right time”: Positive constructions of peer and professional support for breastfeeding. Women Birth. 2017; 30(5):389–97. Yang X, Gao L, Ip W-Y, Sally Chan WC. Predictors of breastfeeding self-efficacy in the immediate postpartum period: A cross-sectional study. Midwifery. 2016; 41:1–8. Belintxon-Martín M, Zaragüeta MC, Adrián MC, López-Dicastillo O. El comienzo de la lactancia: Experiencias de madres primerizas. An. Sist. Sanit. Navarra. 2011; 34(3):409–18. Debevec AD, Evanson TA. Improving Breastfeeding Support by Understanding Women’s Perspectives and Emotional Experiences of Breastfeeding. Nurs Womens Health. 2016; 20(5):464–74. Braun V, Clarke V. Using thematic analysis in psychology. Qual. Res. Psychol. 2006; 3(2):77–101. Streubert HJ, Rinaldi Carpenter D. Action Research Method. In: Streubert HJ, Rinaldi Carpenter D, editors. Qualitative Research in Nursing Advancing the Humanistic Imperative. Fifth Edit. Philadelphia: Lippincott Williams & Wilkins; 2011. p. 300–20. Mastrapa YE, Lamadrid M del PG. Relación enfermera-paciente: una perspectiva desde las teorías de las relaciones interpersonales. Rev. Cubana Enferm. 2016; 32(4):126–36. Grassley JS, Clark M, Schleis J. An Institutional Ethnography of Nurses’ Support of Breastfeeding on the Night Shift. J. Obstet. Gynecol. Neonatal Nurs. 2015; 44(5):567–77. Ratnasari D, Paramashanti BA, Hadi H, Yugistyowati A, Astiti D, Nurhayati E. Family support and exclusive breastfeeding among Yogyakarta mothers in employment. Asia Pac. J. Clin. Nutr. 2017; 26(May):S31–5. Kronborg H, Harder I, Hall EOC. First time mothers’ experiences of breastfeeding their newborn. Sex. Reprod. Healthc. 2015; 6(2):82–7. Wright AI, Hurst NM. Personal Infant Feeding Experiences of Postpartum Nurses Affect How They Provide Breastfeeding Support. J. Obstet. Gynecol. Neonatal Nurs. 2018; 47(3):342–51. Mujika A, Arantzamendi M, Lopez-Dicastillo O, Forbes A. Health professionals’ personal behaviours hindering health promotion: A study of nurses who smoke. J. Adv. 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IntroductionThe common origin of the adjective “corporeal” and the noun “corpse” in the Latin root corpus points to the value of mortuary practices for investigating how the human body is objectified. In post-mortem rituals, the body—formerly the manipulator of objects—becomes itself the object that is manipulated. Thus, these funerary rituals provide a type of double reflexivity, where the object and subject of manipulation can be used to reciprocally illuminate one another. To this extent, any consideration of corporeality can only benefit from a discussion of how the body is objectified through mortuary practices. This paper offers just such a discussion with respect to a selection of two contrasting mortuary practices, in the context of the prehistoric past and the Classical Era respectively. At the most general level, we are motivated by the same intellectual impulse that has stimulated expositions on corporeality, materiality, and incarnation in areas like phenomenology (Merleau-Ponty 77–234), Marxism (Adorno 112–119), gender studies (Grosz vii–xvi), history (Laqueur 193–244), and theology (Henry 33–53). That is to say, our goal is to show that the body, far from being a transparent frame through which we encounter the world, is in fact a locus where historical, social, cultural, and psychological forces intersect. On this view, “the body vanishes as a biological entity and becomes an infinitely malleable and highly unstable culturally constructed product” (Shilling 78). However, for all that the cited paradigms offer culturally situated appreciations of corporeality; our particular intellectual framework will be provided by cognitive science. Two reasons impel us towards this methodological choice.In the first instance, the study of ritual has, after several decades of stagnation, been rewarded—even revolutionised—by the application of insights from the new sciences of the mind (Whitehouse 1–12; McCauley and Lawson 1–37). Thus, there are good reasons to think that ritual treatments of the body will refract historical and social forces through empirically attested tendencies in human cognition. In the present connection, this means that knowledge of these tendencies will reward any attempt to theorise the objectification of the body in mortuary rituals.In the second instance, because beliefs concerning the afterlife can never be definitively judged to be true or false, they give free expression to tendencies in cognition that are otherwise constrained by the need to reflect external realities accurately. To this extent, they grant direct access to the intuitive ideas and biases that shape how we think about the world. Already, this idea has been exploited to good effect in areas like the cognitive anthropology of religion, which explores how counterfactual beings like ghosts, spirits, and gods conform to (and deviate from) pre-reflective cognitive patterns (Atran 83–112; Barrett and Keil 219–224; Barrett and Reed 252–255; Boyer 876–886). Necessarily, this implies that targeting post-mortem treatments of the body will offer unmediated access to some of the conceptual schemes that inform thinking about human corporeality.At a more detailed level, the specific methodology we propose to use will be provided by conceptual blending theory—a framework developed by Gilles Fauconnier, Mark Turner, and others to describe how structures from different areas of experience are creatively blended to form a new conceptual frame. In this system, a generic space provides the ground for coordinating two or more input spaces into a blended space that synthesises them into a single output. Here this would entail using natural or technological processes to structure mortuary practices in a way that satisfies various psychological needs.Take, for instance, W.B. Yeats’s famous claim that “Too long a sacrifice / Can make a stone of the heart” (“Easter 1916” in Yeats 57-8). Here, the poet exploits a generic space—that of everyday objects and the effort involved in manipulating them—to coordinate an organic input from that taxonomy (the heart) with an inorganic input (a stone) to create the blended idea that too energetic a pursuit of an abstract ideal turns a person into an unfeeling object (the heart-as-stone). Although this particular example corresponds to a familiar rhetorical figure (the metaphor), the value of conceptual blending theory is that it cuts across distinctions of genre, media, language, and discourse level to provide a versatile framework for expressing how one area of human experience is related to another.As indicated, we will exploit this versatility to investigate two ways of objectifying the body through the examination of two contrasting mortuary practices—cremation and inhumation—against different cultural horizons. The first of these is the conceptualisation of the body as an object of a technical process, where the post-mortem cremation of the corpse is analogically correlated with the metallurgical refining of ore into base metal. Our area of focus here will be Bronze Age cremation practices. The second conceptual scheme we will investigate focuses on treatments of the body as a vegetable object; here, the relevant analogy likens the inhumation of the corpse to the planting of a seed in the soil from which future growth will come. This discussion will centre on the Classical Era. Burning: The Body as Manufactured ObjectThe Early and Middle Bronze Age in Western Europe (2500-1200 BCE) represented a period of change in funerary practices relative to the preceding Neolithic, exemplified by a move away from the use of Megalithic monuments, a proliferation of grave goods, and an increase in the use of cremation (Barrett 38-9; Cooney and Grogan 105-121; Brück, Material Metaphors 308; Waddell, Bronze Age 141-149). Moreover, the Western European Bronze Age is characterised by a shift away from communal burial towards single interment (Barrett 32; Bradley 158-168). Equally, the Bronze Age in Western Europe provides us with evidence of an increased use of cist and pit cremation burials concentrated in low-lying areas (Woodman 254; Waddell, Prehistoric 16; Cooney and Grogan 105-121; Bettencourt 103). This greater preference for lower-lying location appears to reflect a distinctive change in comparison to the distribution patterns of the Neolithic burials; these are often located on prominent, visible aspects of a landscape (Cooney and Grogan 53-61). These new Bronze Age burial practices appear to reflect a distancing in relation to the territories of the “old ancestors” typified by Megalithic monuments (Bettencourt 101-103). Crucially, the Bronze Age archaeological record provides us with evidence that indicates that cremation was becoming the dominant form of deposition of human remains throughout Central and Western Europe (Sørensen and Rebay 59-60).The activities associated with Bronze Age cremations such as the burning of the body and the fragmentation of the remains have often been considered as corporeal equivalents (or expressions) of the activities involved in metal (bronze) production (Brück, Death 84-86; Sørensen and Rebay 60–1; Rebay-Salisbury, Cremations 66-67). There are unequivocal similarities between the practices of cremation and contemporary bronze production technologies—particularly as both processes involve the transformation of material through the application of fire at temperatures between 700 ºC to 1000 ºC (Musgrove 272-276; Walker et al. 132; de Becdelievre et al. 222-223).We assert that the technologies that define the European Bronze Age—those involved in alloying copper and tin to produce bronze—offered a new conceptual frame that enabled the body to be objectified in new ways. The fundamental idea explored here is that the displacement of inhumation by cremation in the European Bronze Age was motivated by a cognitive shift, where new smelting technologies provided novel conceptual metaphors for thinking about age-old problems concerning human mortality and post-mortem survival. The increased use of cremation in the European Bronze Age contrasts with the archaeological record of the Near Eastern—where, despite the earlier emergence of metallurgy (3300–3000 BCE), we do not see a notable proliferation in the use of cremation in this region. Thus, mortuary practices (i.e. cremation) provide us with an insight into how Western European Bronze Age cultures mediated the body through changes in technological objects and processes.In the terminology of conceptual blending, the generic space in question centres on the technical manipulation of the material world. The first input space is associated with the anxiety attending mortality—specifically, the cessation of personal identity and the extinction of interpersonal relationships. The second input space represents the technical knowledge associated with bronze production; in particular, the extraction of ore from source material and its mixing with other metals to form an alloy. The blended space coordinates these inputs to objectify the human body as an object that is ritually transformed into a new but more durable substance via the cremation process. In this contention we use the archaeological record to draw a conceptual parallel between the emergence of bronze production technology—centring on transition of naturally occurring material to a new subsistence (bronze)—and the transitional nature of the cremation process.In this theoretical framework, treating the body as a mixture of substances that can be reduced to its constituents and transformed through technologies of cremation enabled Western European Bronze Age society to intervene in the natural process of putrefaction and transform the organic matter into something more permanent. This transformative aspect of the cremation is seen in the evidence we have for secondary burial practices involving the curation and circulation of cremated bones of deceased members of a group (Brück, Death 87-93). This evidence allows us to assert that cremated human remains and objects were considered products of the same transformation into a more permanent state via burning, fragmentation, dispersal, and curation. Sofaer (62-69) states that the living body is regarded as a person, but as soon as the transition to death is made, the body becomes an object; this is an “ontological shift in the perception of the body that assumes a sudden change in its qualities” (62).Moreover, some authors have proposed that the exchange of fragmented human remains was central to mortuary practices and was central in establishing and maintaining social relations (Brück, Death 76-88). It is suggested that in the Early Bronze Age the perceptions of the human body mirrored the perceptions of objects associated with the arrival of the new bronze technology (Brück, Death 88-92). This idea is more pronounced if we consider the emergence of bronze technology as the beginning of a period of capital intensification of natural resources. Through this connection, the Bronze Age can be regarded as the point at which a particular natural resource—in this case, copper—went through myriad intensive manufacturing stages, which are still present today (intensive extraction, production/manufacturing, and distribution). Unlike stone tool production, bronze production had the addition of fire as the explicit method of transformation (Brück, Death 88-92). Thus, such views maintain that the transition achieved by cremation—i.e. reducing the human remains to objects or tokens that could be exchanged and curated relatively soon after the death of the individual—is equivalent to the framework of commodification connected with bronze production.A sample of cremated remains from Castlehyde in County Cork, Ireland, provides us with an example of a Bronze Age cremation burial in a Western European context (McCarthy). This is chosen because it is a typical example of a Bronze Age cremation burial in the context of Western Europe; also, one of the authors (MG) has first-hand experience in the analysis of its associated remains. The Castlehyde cremation burial consisted of a rectangular, stone-lined cist (McCarthy). The cist contained cremated, calcined human remains, with the fragments generally ranging from a greyish white to white in colour; this indicates that the bones were subject to a temperature range of 700-900ºC. The organic content of bone was destroyed during the cremation process, leaving only the inorganic matrix (brittle bone which is, often, described as metallic in consistency—e.g. Gejvall 470-475). There is evidence that remains may have been circulated in a manner akin to valuable metal objects. First of all, the absence of long bones indicates that there may have been a practice of removing salient remains as curatable records of ancestral ties. Secondly, remains show traces of metal staining from objects that are no longer extant, which suggests that graves were subject to secondary burial practices involving the removal of metal objects and/or human bone. To this extent, we can discern that human remains were being processed, curated, and circulated in a similar manner to metal objects.Thus, there are remarkable similarities between the treatment of the human body in cremation and bronze metal production technologies in the European Bronze Age. On the one hand, the parallel between smelting and cremation allowed death to be understood as a process of transformation in which the individual was removed from processes of organic decay. On the other hand, the circulation of the transformed remains conferred a type of post-mortem survival on the deceased. In this way, cremation practices may have enabled Bronze Age society to symbolically overcome the existential anxiety concerning the loss of personhood and the breaking of human relationships through death. In relation to the former point, the resurgence of cremation in nineteenth century Europe provides us with an example of how the disposal of a human body can be contextualised in relation to socio-technological advancements. The (re)emergence of cremation in this period reflects the post-Enlightenment shift from an understanding of the world through religious beliefs to the use of rational, scientific approaches to examine the natural world, including the human body (and death). The controlled use of fire in the cremation process, as well as the architecture of crematories, reflected the industrial context of the period (Rebay-Salisbury, Inhumation 16).With respect to the circulation of cremated remains, Smith suggests that Early Medieval Christian relics of individual bones or bone fragments reflect a reconceptualised continuation of pre-Christian practices (beginning in Christian areas of the Roman Empire). In this context, it is claimed, firstly, that the curation of bone relics and the use of mobile bone relics of important, saintly individuals provided an embodied connection between the sacred sphere and the earthly world; and secondly, that the use of individual bones or fragments of bone made the Christian message something portable, which could be used to reinforce individual or collective adherence to Christianity (Smith 143-167). Using the example of the Christian bone relics, we can thus propose that the curation and circulation of Bronze Age cremated material may have served a role similar to tools for focusing religiously oriented cognition. Burying: The Body as a Vegetable ObjectGiven that the designation “the Classical Era” nominates the entirety of the Graeco-Roman world (including the Near East and North Africa) from about 800 BCE to 600 CE, there were obviously no mortuary practices common to all cultures. Nevertheless, in both classical Greece and Rome, we have examples of periods when either cremation or inhumation was the principal funerary custom (Rebay-Salisbury, Inhumation 19-21).For instance, the ancient Homeric texts inform us that the ancient Greeks believed that “the spirit of the departed was sentient and still in the world of the living as long as the flesh was in existence […] and would rather have the body devoured by purifying fire than by dogs or worms” (Mylonas 484). However, the primary sources and archaeological record indicate that cremation practices declined in Athens circa 400 BCE (Rebay-Salisbury, Inhumation 20). With respect to the Roman Empire, scholarly opinion argues that inhumation was the dominant funerary rite in the eastern part of the Empire (Rebay-Salisbury, Inhumation 17-21; Morris 52). Complementing this, the archaeological and historical record indicates that inhumation became the primary rite throughout the Roman Empire in the first century CE. Inhumation was considered to be an essential rite in the context of an emerging belief that a peaceful afterlife was reflected by a peaceful burial in which bodily integrity was maintained (Rebay-Salisbury, Inhumation 19-21; Morris 52; Toynbee 41). The question that this poses is how these beliefs were framed in the broader discourses of Classical culture.In this regard, our claim is that the growth in inhumation was driven (at least in part) by the spread of a conceptual scheme, implicit in Greek fertility myths that objectify the body as a seed. The conceptual logic here is that the post-mortem continuation of personal identity is (symbolically) achieved by objectifying the body as a vegetable object that will re-grow from its own physical remains. Although the dominant metaphor here is vegetable, there is no doubt that the motivating concern of this mythological fabulation is human mortality. As Jon Davies notes, “the myths of Hades, Persephone and Demeter, of Orpheus and Eurydice, of Adonis and Aphrodite, of Selene and Endymion, of Herakles and Dionysus, are myths of death and rebirth, of journeys into and out of the underworld, of transactions and transformations between gods and humans” (128). Thus, such myths reveal important patterns in how the post-mortem fate of the body was conceptualised.In the terminology of mental mapping, the generic space relevant to inhumation contains knowledge pertaining to folk biology—specifically, pre-theoretical ideas concerning regeneration, survival, and mortality. The first input space attaches to human mortality; it departs from the anxiety associated with the seeming cessation of personal identity and dissolution of kin relationships subsequent to death. The second input space is the subset of knowledge concerning vegetable life, and how the immersion of seeds in the soil produces a new generation of plants with the passage of time. The blended space combines the two input spaces by way of the funerary script, which involves depositing the body in the soil with a view to securing its eventual rebirth by analogy with the sprouting of a planted seed.As indicated, the most important illustration of this conceptual pattern can be found in the fertility myths of ancient Greece. The Homeric Hymns, in particular, provide a number of narratives that trace out correspondences between vegetation cycles, human mortality, and inhumation, which inform ritual practice (Frazer 223–404; Carney 355–65; Sowa 121–44). The Homeric Hymn to Demeter, for instance, charts how Persephone is abducted by Hades, god of the dead, and taken to his underground kingdom. While searching for her missing daughter, Demeter, goddess of fertility, neglects the earth, causing widespread devastation. Matters are resolved when Zeus intervenes to restore Persephone to Demeter. However, having ingested part of Hades’s kingdom (a pomegranate seed), Persephone is obliged to spend half the year below ground with her captor and the other half above ground with her mother.The objectification of Persephone as both a seed and a corpse in this narrative is clearly signalled by her seasonal inhumation in Hades’ chthonic realm, which is at once both the soil and the grave. And, just as the planting of seeds in autumn ensures rebirth in spring, Persephone’s seasonal passage from the Kingdom of the Dead nominates the individual human life as just one season in an endless cycle of death and rebirth. A further signifying element is added by the ingestion of the pomegranate seed. This is evocative of her being inseminated by Hades; thus, the coordination of vegetation cycles with life and death is correlated with secondary transition—that from childhood to adulthood (Kerényi 119–183).In the examples given, we can see how the Homeric Hymn objectifies both the mortal and sexual destiny of the body in terms of thresholds derived from the vegetable world. Moreover, this mapping is not merely an intellectual exercise. Its emotional and social appeal is visible in the fact that the Eleusinian mysteries—which offered the ritual homologue to the Homeric Hymn to Demeter—persisted from the Mycenaean period to 396 CE, one of the longest recorded durations for any ritual (Ferguson 254–9; Cosmopoulos 1–24). In sum, then, classical myth provided a precedent for treating the body as a vegetable object—most often, a seed—that would, in turn, have driven the move towards inhumation as an important mortuary practice. The result is to create a ritual form that makes key aspects of human experience intelligible by connecting them with cyclical processes like the seasons of the year, the harvesting of crops, and the intergenerational oscillation between the roles of parent and child. Indeed, this pattern remains visible in the germination metaphors and burial practices of contemporary religions such as Christianity, which draw heavily on the symbolism associated with mystery cults like that at Eleusis (Nock 177–213).ConclusionWe acknowledge that our examples offer a limited reflection of the ethnographic and archaeological data, and that they need to be expanded to a much greater degree if they are to be more than merely suggestive. Nevertheless, suggestiveness has its value, too, and we submit that the speculations explored here may well offer a useful starting point for a larger survey. In particular, they showcase how a recurring existential anxiety concerning death—involving the fear of loss of personal identity and kinship relations—is addressed by different ways of objectifying the body. Given that the body is not reducible to the objects with which it is identified, these objectifications can never be entirely successful in negotiating the boundary between life and death. In the words of Jon Davies, “there is simply no let-up in the efforts by human beings to transcend this boundary, no matter how poignantly each failure seemed to reinforce it” (128). For this reason, we can expect that the record will be replete with conceptual and cognitive schemes that mediate the experience of death.At a more general level, it should also be clear that our understanding of human corporeality is rewarded by the study of mortuary practices. 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The habitual passenger cannot grasp the folly of traffic based overwhelmingly on transport. His inherited perceptions of space and time and of personal pace have been industrially deformed. He has lost the power to conceive of himself outside the passenger role (Illich 25).The most basic definition of Stillness refers to a state of being in the absence of both motion and disturbance. Some might say it is anti-American. Stillness denies the democratic freedom of mobility in a social system where, as Ivan Illich writes in Energy and Equity, people “believe that political power grows out of the capacity of a transportation system, and in its absence is the result of access to the television screen” (26). In America, it isn’t too far of a stretch to say that most are quite used to being interpolated as some sort of subject of the screen, be it the windshield or the flat screen. Whether in transport or tele-vision, life is full of traffic and flickering images. In the best of times there is a choice between being citizen-audience member or citizen-passenger. A full day might include both.But during the summer of 2008 things seemed to change. The citizen-passenger was left beached, not in some sandy paradise but in their backyard. In this state of SIMBY (stuck in my backyard), the citizen-passenger experienced the energy crisis first hand. Middle class suburbanites were forced to come to terms with a new disturbance due to rising fuel prices: unattainable motion. Domestic travel had been exchanged for domestication. The citizen-passenger was rendered what Paul Virilio might call, “a voyager without a voyage, this passenger without a passage, the ultimate stranger, and renegade to himself” (Crepuscular 131). The threat to capitalism posed by this unattainable motion was quickly thwarted by America’s 'big box' stores, hotel chains, and news networks. What might have become a culturally transformative politics of attainable stillness was hijacked instead by The Great American Staycation. The Staycation is a neologism that refers to the activity of making a vacation out of staying at home. But the Staycation is more than a passing phrase; it is a complex cultural phenomenon that targeted middle class homes during the summer of 2008. A major constraint to a happy Staycation was the uncomfortable fact that the middle class home was not really a desirable destination as it stood. The family home would have to undergo a series of changes, one being the initiation of a set of time management strategies; and the second, the adoption of new objects for consumption. Good Morning America first featured the Staycation as a helpful parenting strategy for what was expected to be a long and arduous summer. GMA defined the parameters of the Staycation with four golden rules in May of 2008:Schedule start and end dates. Otherwise, it runs the risk of feeling just like another string of nights in front of the tube. Take Staycation photos or videos, just as you would if you went away from home on your vacation. Declare a 'choratorium.' That means no chores! Don't make the bed, vacuum, clean out the closets, pull weeds, or nothing, Pack that time with activities. (Leamy)Not only did GMA continue with the theme throughout the summer but the other networks also weighed in. Expert knowledge was doled out and therapeutic interventions were made to make people feel better about staying at home. Online travel companies such as expedia.com and tripadvisor.com, estimated that 60% of regular vacation takers would be staying home. With the rise and fall of gas prices, came the rise of fall of the Staycation.The emergence of the Staycation occurred precisely at a time when American citizens were confronted with the reality that their mobility and localities, including their relationship to domestic space, were structurally bound to larger geopolitical forces. The Staycation was an invention deployed by various interlocutors most threatened by the political possibilities inherent in stillness. The family home was catapulted into the circuits of production, consumption, and exchange. Big TV and Big Box stores furthered individual’s unease towards having to stay at home by discursively constructing the gas prices as an impediment to a happy domestic life and an affront to the American born right to be mobile. What was reinforced was that Americans ideally should be moving, but could not. Yet, at the same time it was rather un-American not to travel. The Staycation was couched in a powerful rhetoric of one’s moral duty to the nation while playing off of middle class anxieties and senses of privilege regarding the right to be mobile and the freedom to consume. The Staycation satiates all of these tensions by insisting that the home can become a somewhere else. Between spring and autumn of 2008, lifestyle experts, representatives from major retailers, and avid Staycationers filled morning slots on ABC, NBC, FOX, CBS, and CNN with Staycation tips. CNN highlighted the Staycation as a “1st Issue” in their Weekend Report on 12 June 2008 (Alban). This lead story centred on a father in South Windsor, Connecticut “who took the money he would normally spend on vacations and created a permanent Staycation residence.” The palatial home was fitted with a basketball court, swimming pool, hot tub, gardening area, and volleyball court. In the same week (and for those without several acres) CBS’s Early Show featured the editor of behindthebuy.com, a company that specialises in informing the “time starved consumer” about new commodities. The lifestyle consultant previewed the newest and most necessary items “so you could get away without leaving home.” Key essentials included a “family-sized” tent replete with an air conditioning unit, a projector TV screen amenable to the outdoors, a high-end snow-cone maker, a small beer keg, a mini-golf kit, and a fast-setting swimming pool that attaches to any garden hose. The segment also extolled the virtues of the Staycation even when gas prices might not be so high, “you have this stuff forever, if you go on vacation all you have are the pictures.” Here, the value of the consumer products outweighs the value of erstwhile experiences that would have to be left to mere recollection.Throughout the summer ABC News’ homepage included links to specific products and profiled hotels, such as Hiltons and Holiday Inns, where families could at least get a few miles away from home (Leamy). USA Today, in an article about retailers and the Staycation, reported that Wal-Mart would be “rolling back prices on everything from mosquito repellent to portable DVD players to baked beans and barbecue sauce”. Target and Kohl’s were celebrated for offering discounts on patio furniture, grills, scented candles, air fresheners and other products to make middle class homes ‘staycationable’. A Lexis Nexis count revealed over 200 news stories in various North American sources, including the New York Times, Financial Times, Investors Guide, the Christian Science Monitor, and various local Consumer Credit Counselling Guides. Staying home was not necessarily an inexpensive option. USA Today reported brand new grills, grilling meats, patio furniture and other accoutrements were still going to cost six percent more than the previous year (24 May 2008). While it was suggested that the Staycation was a cost-saving option, it is clear Staycations were for the well-enough off and would likely cost more or as much as an actual vacation. To put this in context with US vacation policies and practices, a recent report by the Center for Economic and Policy Research called No-Vacation Nation found that the US is the only advanced economy in the world that does not guarantee its workers paid vacation (Ray and Schmidt 3). Subsequently, without government standards 25% of Americans have neither paid vacation nor paid holidays. The Staycation was not for the working poor who were having difficulty even getting to work in the first place, nor were they for the unemployed, recently job-less, or the foreclosed. No, the Staycationers were middle class suburbanites who had backyards and enough acreage for swimming pools and tents. These were people who were going to be ‘stuck’ at home for the first time and a new grill could make that palatable. The Staycation would be exciting enough to include in their vacation history repertoire.All of the families profiled on the major networks were white Americans and in most cases nuclear families. For them, unattainable motion is an affront to the privilege of their white middle class mobility which is usually easy and unencumbered, in comparison to raced mobilities. Doreen Massey’s theory of “power geometry” which argues that different people have differential and inequitable relationships to mobility is relevant here. The lack of racial representation in Staycation stories reinforces the reality that has already been well documented in the works of bell hooks in Black Looks: Race and Representation, Lynn Spigel in Welcome to the Dreamhouse: Popular Media and Postwar Suburbs, and Jeremy Packer in Mobility without Mayhem: Safety, Cars and Citizenship. All of these critical works suggest that taking easily to the great open road is not the experience of all Americans. Freedom of mobility is in fact a great American fiction.The proprietors for the Great American Staycation were finding all sorts of dark corners in the American psyche to extol the virtues of staying at home. The Staycation capitalised on latent xenophobic tendencies of the insular family. Encountering cultural difference along the way could become taxing and an impediment to the fully deserved relaxation that is the stuff of dream vacations. CNN.com ran an article soon after their Weekend Report mentioned above quoting a life coach who argued Staycations were more fitting for many Americans because the “strangeness of different cultures or languages, figuring out foreign currencies or worrying about lost luggage can take a toll” (12 June 2008). The Staycation sustains a culture of insularity, consumption, distraction, and fear, but in doing so serves the national economic interests quite well. Stay at home, shop, grill, watch TV and movies, these were the economic directives programmed by mass media and retail giants. As such it was a cultural phenomenon commensurable to the mundane everyday life of the suburbs.The popular version of the Staycation is a highly managed and purified event that reflects the resort style/compound tourism of ‘Club Meds’ and cruise ships. The Staycation as a new form of domestication bears a significant resemblance to the contemporary spatial formations that Marc Augé refers to as non-places – contemporary forms of homogeneous architecture that are scattered across disparate locales. The nuclear family home becomes another point of transfer in the global circulation of capital, information, and goods. The chain hotels and big box stores that are invested in the Staycation are touted as part of the local economy but instead devalue the local by making it harder for independent restaurants, grocers, farmers’ markets and bed and breakfasts to thrive. In this regard the Staycation excludes the local economy and the community. It includes backyards not balconies, hot-dogs not ‘other’ types of food, and Wal-Mart rather than then a local café or deli. Playing on the American democratic ideals of freedom of mobility and activating one’s identity as a consumer left little room to re-think how life in constant motion (moving capital, moving people, moving information, and moving goods) was partially responsible for the energy crisis in the first place. Instead, staying at home became a way for the American citizen to support the floundering economy while waiting for gas prices to go back down. And, one wouldn’t have to look that much further to see that the Staycation slips discursively into a renewed mission for a just cause – the environment. For example, ABC launched at the end of the summer a ruse of a national holiday, “National Stay at Home Week” with the tag line: “With gas prices so high, the economy taking a nosedive and global warming, it's just better to stay in and enjoy great ABC TV.” It comes as no shock that none of the major networks covered this as an environmental issue or an important moment for transformation. In fact, the air conditioning units in backyard tents attest to quite the opposite. Instead, the overwhelming sense was of a nation waiting at home for it all to be over. Soon real life would resume and everyone could get moving again. The economic slowdown and the energy crisis are examples of the breakdown and failure of capitalism. In a sense, a potential opened up in this breakdown for Stillness to become an alternative to life in constant and unrequited motion. That is, for the practice of non-movement and non-circulation to take on new political and cultural forms especially in the sprawling suburbs where the car moves individuals between the trifecta of home, box store, and work. The economic crisis is also a temporary stoppage of the flows. If the individual couldn’t move, global corporate capital would find a way to set the house in motion, to reinsert it back into the machinery that is now almost fully equated with freedom.The reinvention of the home into a campground or drive-in theatre makes the house a moving entity, an inverted mobile home that is both sedentary and in motion. Paul Virilio’s concept of “polar inertia” is important here. He argues, since the advent of transportation individuals live in a state of “resident polar inertia” wherein “people don’t move, even when they’re in a high speed train. They don’t move when they travel in their jet. They are residents in absolute motion” (Crepuscular 71). Lynn Spigel has written extensively about these dynamics, including the home as mobile home, in Make Room for TV and Welcome to the Dreamhouse. She examines how the introduction of the television into domestic space is worked through the tension between the private space of the home and the public world outside. Spigel refers to the dual emergence of portable television and mobile homes. Her work shows how domestic space is constantly imagined and longed for “as a vehicle of transport through which they (families) could imaginatively travel to an illicit place of passion while remaining in the safe space of the family home” (Welcome 60-61). But similarly to what Virilio has inferred Spigel points out that these mobile homes stayed parked and the portable TVs were often stationary as well. The Staycation exists as an addendum to what Spigel captures about the relationship between domestic space and the television set. It provides another example of advertisers’ attempts to play off the suburban tension between domestic space and the world “out there.” The Staycation exacerbates the role of the domestic space as a site of production, distribution, and consumption. The gendered dynamics of the Staycation include redecorating possibilities targeted at women and the backyard beer and grill culture aimed at men. In fact, ‘Mom’ might suffer the most during a Staycation, but that is another topic. The point is the whole family can get involved in a way that sustains the configurations of power but with an element of novelty.The Staycation is both a cultural phenomenon that feeds off the cultural anxieties of the middle class and an economic directive. It has been constructed to maintain movement at a time when the crisis of capital contains seeds for an alternative, for Stillness to become politically and culturally transformative. But life feels dull when the passenger is stuck and the virtues of Stillness are quite difficult to locate in this cultural context. As Illich argues, “the passenger who agrees to live in a world monopolised by transport becomes a harassed, overburdened consumer of distances whose shape and length he can no longer control” (45). When the passenger is the mode of identification, immobility becomes unbearable. In this context a form of “still mobility” such as the Staycation might be satisfying enough. ConclusionThe still citizen is a threatening figure for capital. In Politics of the Very Worst Virilio argues at the heart of capitalism is a state of permanent mobility, a condition to which polar inertia attests. The Staycation fits completely within this context of this form of mobile immobility. The flow needs to keep flowing. When people are stationary, still, and calm the market suffers. It has often been argued that the advertising industries construct dissatisfaction while also marginally eliminating it through the promises of various products, yet ultimately leaving the individual in a constant state of almost satisfied but never really. The fact that the Staycation is a mode of waiting attests to this complacent dissatisfaction.The subjective and experiential dimensions of living in a capitalist society are experienced through one’s relationship to time and staying on the right path. The economic slowdown and the energy crisis are also crises in pace, energy, and time. The mobility and tempo, the pace and path that capital relies on, has become unhinged and vulnerable to a resistant re-shaping. The Staycation re-sets the tempo of suburbia to meet the new needs of an economic slowdown and financial crisis. Following the directive to staycate is not necessarily a new form of false consciousness, but an intensified technological and economic mode of subjection that depends on already established cultural anxieties. But what makes the Staycation unique and worthy of consideration is that capitalists and other disciplinary institutions of power, in this case big media, construct new and innovative ways to control people’s time and regulate their movement in space. The Staycation is a particular re-territorialisation of the temporal and spatial dimensions of home, work, and leisure. In sum, Staycation and the staging of National Stay at Home Week reveals a systemic mobilising and control of a population’s pace and path. As Bernard Stiegler writes in Technics and Time: “Deceleration remains a figure of speed, just as immobility is a figure of movement” (133). These processes are inexorably tied to one another. Thinking back to the opening quote from Illich, we could ask how we might stop imagining ourselves as passengers – ushered along, falling in line, or complacently floating past. To be still in the flows could be a form of ultimate resistance. In fact, Stillness has the possibility of becoming an autonomous practice of refusal. It is after all this threatening potentiality that created the frenzied invention of the Staycation in the first place. To end where I began, Illich states that “the habitual passenger must adopt a new set of beliefs and expectations if he is to feel secure in the strange world” (25-26). The horizon of political possibility is uniformly limited for the passenger. Whether people actually did follow these directives during the summer of 2008 is hard to determine. The point is that the energy crisis and economic slowdown offered a potential to vacate capital’s premises, both its pace and path. But corporate capital is doing its best to make sure that people wait, staycate, and see it through. The Staycation is not just about staying at home for vacation. It is about staying within reach, being accounted for, at a time when departing global corporate capital seems to be the best option. ReferencesAlban, Debra. “Staycations: Alternative to Pricey, Stressful Travel.” CNN News 12 June 2008. 6 Mar. 2009 ‹http://edition.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/worklife/06/12/balance.staycation/index.html›.Augé, Marc. Non-Places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity. Verso, London, 1995.hooks, bell. Black Looks: Race and Representation. Boston: South End Press, 1992.Illich, Ivan. Energy and Equity. New York: Perennial Library, 1974.Leamy, Elisabeth. “Tips for Planning a Great 'Staycation'.” ABC News 23 May 2008. 6 Mar. 2009 ‹http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Parenting/story?id=4919211›.Massey, Doreen. Space, Place, and Gender. Minneapolis: Minnesota U P, 1994.Packer, Jeremy. Mobility without Mayhem: Safety, Cars, and Citizenship. Durham, NC: Duke U P, 2008.Ray, Rebecca and John Schmitt. No-Vacation Nation. Washington, D.C.: Center for Economic and Policy Research, May 2007.Spigel, Lynn. Make Room for TV: Television and the Family Ideal in Postwar America. Chicago: Chicago U P, 1992.———. Welcome to the Dreamhouse: Popular Media and Postwar Suburbs. Durham, NC: Duke U P, 2001.Stiegler, Bernard. Technics and Time 2: Disorientation. Trans. Stephen Barker. California: Stanford University Press, 2009.USA Today. “Retailers Promote 'Staycation' Sales.” 24 May 2008. 6 Mar. 2009 ‹http://www.usatoday.com/money/industries/retail/2008-05-24-staycations_N.htm›.Virilio, Paul. Speed and Politics. Trans. Mark Polizzotti. New York: Semiotext(e), 1986.———. In James der Derian, ed. The Virilio Reader. Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 1998.———. Politics of the Very Worst. New York: Semiotext(e), 1999.———. Crepuscular Dawn. New York: Semiotext(e), 2002.

In January of this year, artist Christian Marclay’s 24-hour video installation The Clock came to Melbourne. As Ben Lerner explains in 10:04, the autofictional novel Lerner published in 2014, The Clock by Christian Marclay “is a clock: it is a twenty-four hour montage of thousands of scenes from movies and a few from TV edited together so as to be shown in real time; each scene indicates the time with a shot of a timepiece or its mention in dialogue, time in and outside of the film is synchronized” (52). I went to see The Clock at ACMI several times, with friends and alone, in the early morning and late at night. Each time I sank back into the comfortable chairs and settled into the communal experience of watching time pass on a screen in a dark room. I found myself sucked into the enforced narrative of time, the way in which the viewer – in this case myself, and those sharing the experience with me – sought to impose a sort of meaning on the arguably meaningless passing of the hours. In this essay, I will explore how we can expand our thinking of the idea of autofiction, as a genre, to include contemporary forms of digital media such as social media or activity trackers, as the authors of these new forms of digital media act as author-characters by playing with the divide between fact and fiction, and requiring their readers to ascertain meaning by interpreting the clues layered within. I will analyse the ways in which the meaning of autofictional texts—such as Lerner’s 10:04, but also including social media feeds, blogs and activity trackers—shifts depending on their audience. I consider that as technology develops, we increasingly use data to contextualise ourselves within a broader narrative – health data, media, journalistic data. As the sociologist John B. Thompson writes, “The development of the media not only enriches and transforms the process of self-formation, it also produces a new kind of intimacy which did not exist before … individuals can create and establish a form of intimacy which is essentially non-reciprocal” (208). New media and technologies have emerged to assist in this process of self-formation through the collection and publication of data. This essay is interested in analysing this process of self-formation, and its relationship to the genre of autofiction.Contemporary Digital Media as AutofictionWhile humans have always recorded themselves throughout history, with the rise of new technologies the instinct to record the self is increasingly becoming an automatic one; an instinct we can tie to what media theorist Nick Couldry terms as “presencing”: an “emerging requirement in everyday life to have a public presence beyond one’s bodily presence, to construct an objectification of oneself” (50). We are required to participate in ‘presencing’ by opting-in to new media; it is now uncommon – even unfavourable – for someone not to engage in any forms of social media or self-monitoring. We are now encouraged to participate in ‘presencing’ through the recording and online publication of data that would have once been considered private, such as employment histories and activity histories. Every Instagram photo, Snapchat or TikTok video contributes to an accumulating digital presence, an emerging narrative of the self. Couldry notes that presencing “is not the same as calling up a few friends to tell them some news; nor, although the audience is unspecific, is it like putting up something on a noticeboard. That is because presencing is oriented to a permanent site in public space that is distinctively marked by the producer for displaying that producer’s self” (50).In this way, we can see that in effect we are all becoming increasingly positioned to become autofiction authors. As an experimental form of literature, autofiction has been around for a long time, the term having first been introduced in the 1970s, and with Serge Doubrovsky widely credited with having introduced the genre with the publication of his 1977 novel Fils (Browning 49). In the most basic terms, autofiction is simply a work of fiction featuring a protagonist who can be interpreted as a stand-in for its author. And while autofiction is also confused with or used interchangeably with other genres such as metafiction or memoir, the difference between autofiction and other genres, writes Arnaud Schmitt, is that autoficton “relies on fiction—runs on fiction, to be exact” (141). Usually the reader can pick up on the fact that a novel is an autofictional one by noting that the protagonist and the author share a name, or key autobiographical details, but it is debatable as to whether the reader in fact needs to know that the work is autofictional in the first place in order to properly engage with it as a literary text.The same ideas can be applied to the application of digital media today. Kylie Cardell notes that “personal autobiographical but specifically diaristic (confessional, serial, quotidian) disclosure is increasingly positioned as a symptomatic feature of online life” (507). This ties in with Couldry’s idea of ‘presencing’; confession is increasingly a requirement when it comes to participation in digital media. As technology advances, the ways in which we can present and record the self evolve, and the narrative we can produce of the self expands alongside our understanding of the relationship between fact and fiction. Though of course we have always fabricated different narratives of the self, whether it be through diary entries or letter-writing, ‘presencing’ occurs when we literally present these edited versions of ourselves to an online audience. Lines become blurred between fiction and non-fiction, and the ability to distinguish between ‘fake’ and ‘real’ becomes almost impossible.Increasingly, such a distinction fails to seem important, and in some cases, this blurred line becomes the point, or a punchline; we can see this most clearly in TikTok videos, wherein people (specifically, or at least most typically, young people—Generation Z) play with ideas of truth and unreality ironically. When a teenager posts a video of themselves on TikTok dancing in their school cafeteria with the caption, “I got suspended for this, don’t let this flop”, the savvy viewer understands without it needing to be said that the student was not actually suspended – and also understands that even less outlandish or unbelievable digital content is unreliable by nature, and simply the narrative the author or producer wishes to convey; just like the savvy reader of an autofiction novel understands, without it actually being said, that the novel is in part autobiographical, even when the author and protagonist do not share a name or other easily identifiable markers.This is the nature of autofiction; it signals to the reader its status as a work of autofiction by littering intertextual clues throughout. Readers familiar with the author’s biography or body of work will pick up on these clues, creating a sense of uneasiness in the reader as they work to discern what is fact and what is not.Indeed, in 10:04, Lerner flags the text as a work of autofiction by sketching a fictional-not-fictional image of himself as an author of a story, ‘The Golden Vanity’ published in The New Yorker, that earned him a book deal—a story the ‘real’ Ben Lerner did in fact publish, two years before the publication of 10:04: “a few months before, the agent had e-mailed me that she believed I could get a “strong six-figure” advance based on a story of mine that had appeared in The New Yorker” (Lerner 4).In a review of 10:04 for the Sydney Review of Books, Stephanie Bishop writes:we learn that he did indeed write a proposal, that there was a competitive auction … What had just happened? Where are we in time? Was the celebratory meal fictional or real? Can we (and should we) seek to distinguish these categories?Here Lerner is ‘presencing’, crafting a multilayered version of himself across media by assuming that the reader of his work is also a reader of The New Yorker (an easy assumption to make given that his work often appears in, and is reviewed in, The New Yorker). Of course, this leads to the question: what becomes of autofiction when it is consumed by someone who is unable to pick up on the many metareferences layered within its narrative? In this case, the work itself becomes a joke that doesn’t land – much like a social media feed being consumed by someone who is not its intended audience.The savvy media consumer also understands that even the most meaningless or obtuse of media is all part of the overarching narrative. Lerner highlights the way we try and impose meaning onto (arguably) meaningless media when he describes his experience of watching time pass in Marclay’s The Clock:Big Ben, which I would come to learn appears frequently in the video, exploded, and people in the audience applauded… But then, a minute later, a young girl awakes from a nightmare and, as she’s comforted by her father (Clark Gable as Rhett Butler), you see Big Ben ticking away again outside their window, no sign of damage. The entire preceding twenty-four hours might have been the child’s dream, a storm that never happened, just one of many ways The Clock can be integrated into an overarching narrative. Indeed it was a greater challenge for me to resist the will to integration. (Lerner 52-53)This desire to impose an overarching narrative that Lerner speaks of – and which I also experienced when watching The Clock, as detailed in the introduction to this essay – is what the recording of the self both aims to achieve and achieves by default; it is the point and also the by-product. The Self as DataThe week my grandmother died, in 2017, my father bought me an Apple Watch. I had recently started running and—perhaps as an outlet for my grief—was looking to take my running further. I wanted a smart watch to help me record my runs; to turn the act of running into data that I could quantify and thus understand. This, in turn, would help me understand something about myself. Deborah Lupton explains my impulse here when she writes, “the body/self is portrayed as a conglomerate of quantifiable data that can be revealed using digital devices” (65). I wanted to reveal my ‘self’ by recording it, similar to the way the data accumulated in a diary, when reflected upon, helps a diarist understand their life more broadly. "Is a Fitbit a diary?”, asks Kylie Cardell. “The diary in the twenty-first century is already vastly different from many of its formal historical counterparts, yet there are discursive resonances. The Fitbit is a diary if we think of diary as a chronological record of data, which it can be” (348). The diary, as with the Apple Watch or Fitbit, is simply just a record of the self moving through time.Thus I submitted myself to the task of turning as much of myself into digital data as was possible to do so. Every walk, swim, meditation, burst of productivity, lapse in productivity, and beat of my heart became quantified, as Cardell might say, diarised. There is a very simple sort of pleasure in watching the red, green and blue rings spin round as you stand more, move more, run more. There is something soothing in knowing that at any given moment in time, you can press a button and see exactly what your heart is doing; even more soothing is knowing that at any given time, you can open up an app and see what your heart has been doing today, yesterday, this month, this year. It made sense to me that this data was being collected via my timepiece; it was simply the accumulation of my ‘self,’ as viewed through the lens of time.The Apple Watch was just the latest in a series of ways I have tasked technology with the act of quantifying myself; with my iPhone I track my periods with the Clue app. I measure my mental health with apps such as Shine, and my daily habits with Habitica. I have tried journaling apps such as Reflectly and Day One. While I have never actively tracked my food intake, or weight, or sex life, I know if I wanted to I could do this, too. And long before the Apple Watch, and long before my iPhone, too, I measured myself. In the late 2000s, I kept an online blog. Rebecca Blood notes that the development of blogging technology allowed blogging to become about “whatever came to mind. Walking to work. Last night’s party. Lunch” (54). Browning expands on this, noting that bloggingemerged as a mode of publication in the late ’90s, expressly smudging the boundaries of public and private. A diaristic mode, the blog nonetheless addresses (a) potential reader(s), often with great intimacy — and in its transition to print, as a boundary-shifting form with ill-defined goals regarding its readership. (49)(It is worth noting here that while of course many different forms of blogging exist and have always existed, this essay is only concerned with the diaristic blog that Blood and Browning speak of – arguably the most popular, and at least the most well known, form of blog.)My blog was also ostensibly about my own life, but really it was a work of autofiction, in the same way that my Apple Watch data, when shared, became a work of autofiction – which is to say that I became the central character, the author-character, whose narrative I was shaping with each post, using time as the setting. Jenny Davis writes:if self-quantifiers are seeking self-knowledge through numbers, then narratives and subjective interpretations are the mechanisms by which data morphs into selves. Self-quantifiers don’t just use data to learn about themselves, but rather, use data to construct the stories that they tell themselves about themselves.Over time, I became addicted to the blogging platform’s inbuilt metrics. I would watch with interest as certain posts performed better than others, and eventually the inevitable happened: I began – mostly unconsciously – to try and mould the content of my blogs to achieve certain outcomes – similar to the way that now, in 2019, it is hard to say whether I use an app to assist myself to meditate/journal/learn/etc, or whether I meditate/journal/learn/etc in order to record myself having done so.David Sedaris notes how the collection of data subconsciously, automatically leads to its manipulation in his essay collection, Calypso:for reasons I cannot determine my Fitbit died. I was devastated when I tapped the broadest part of it and the little dots failed to appear. Then I felt a great sense of freedom. It seemed that my life was now my own again. But was it? Walking twenty-five miles, or even running up the stairs and back, suddenly seemed pointless, since, without the steps being counted and registered, what use were they? (Sedaris, 49)In this way, the data we collect on and produce about ourselves, be it fitness metrics, blog posts, Instagram stories or works of literature or art, allows us to control and shape our own narrative, and so we do, creating what Kylie Cardell describes as “an autobiographical representation of self that is coherent and linear, “excavated” from a mass of personal data” (502).Of course, as foregrounded earlier, it is important to highlight the way ideas of privacy and audience shift in accordance with the type of media being consumed or created. Within different media, different author-characters emerge, and the author is required to participate in ‘presencing’ in different ways. For instance, data that exists only for the user does not require the user, or author, to participate in the act of ‘presencing’ at all – an example of this might be the Clue app, which records menstruation history. This information is only of interest to myself, and is not published or shared anywhere, with anyone. However even data intended for a limited audience still requires participation in ‘presencing’. While I only ‘share’ my Apple Watch’s activity with a few people, even just the act of sharing this activity influences the activity itself, creating an affect in which the fact of the content’s consumption shapes the creation of the content itself. Through consumption of Apple Watch data alone, a narrative can be built in which I am lazy, or dedicated, an early riser or a late sleeper, the kind of person who prefers setting their own goals, or the kind of person who enjoys group activities – and knowing that this narrative is being built requires me to act, consciously, in the experience of building it, which leads to the creation of something unreal or fictional interspersed with factual data. (All of which is to admit that sometimes I go on a run not because I want to go on a run, but because I want to be the sort of person who has gone on a run, and be seen as such: in this way I am ‘presencing’.)Similarly, the ephemeral versus permanent nature of data shared through media like Snapchat or Instagram dictates its status as a work of autofiction. When a piece of data – for instance, a photograph on Instagram – is published permanently, it contributes to an evolving autofictional narrative. The ‘Instagrammed’ self is both real and unreal, both fictional and non-fictional. The consumer of this data can explore an author’s social media feed dating back years and consume this data in exactly the way the author intends. However, the ‘stories’ function on Instagram, for instance, allows the consumption of this data to change again. Content is published for a limited amount of time—usually 24 hours—then disappears, and is able to be shared with either the author’s entire group of followers, or a select audience, allowing an author more creative freedom to choose how their data is consumed.Anxiety and AutofictionWhy do I feel the need to record all this data about myself? Obviously, this information is, to an extent, useful. If you are a person who menstruates, knowing exactly when your last period was, how long it lasted and how heavy it was is useful information to have, medically and logistically. If you run regularly, tracking your runs can be helpful in improving your time or routine. Similarly, recording the self in this way can be useful in keeping track of your moods, your habits, and your relationships.Of course, as previously noted, humans have always recorded ourselves. Cardell notes that “although the forms, conditions, and technology for diary keeping have changed, a motivation for recording, documenting, and accounting for the experience of the self over time has endured” (349). Still, it is hard to ignore the fact that ultimately, we seem to be entering some sort of age of digital information hoarding, and harder still to ignore the sneaking suspicion that this all seems to speak to a growing anxiety – and specifically, an anxiety of the self.Gayle Greene writes that “all writers are concerned with memory, since all writing is a remembrance of things past; all writers draw on the past, mine it as a quarry. Memory is especially important to anyone who cares about change, for forgetting dooms us to repetition” (291). If all writers are concerned with memory, as Greene posits, then perhaps we can draw the conclusion that autofiction writers are concerned with an anxiety of forgetting, or of being forgotten. We are self-conscious as authors of autofictional media; concerned with how our work is and will continue to be perceived – and whether it is perceived at all. Marjorie Worthington believes that that the rise in self-conscious fiction has resulted in an anxiety of obsolescence; that this anxiety in autofiction occurs “when a cultural trope (such as 'the author' is deemed to be in danger of becoming obsolete (or 'dying')” (27). However, it is worth considering the opposite – that an anxiety of obsolescence has resulted in a rise of self-conscious fiction, or autofiction.This fear of obsolescence is pervasive in new digital media – Instagram stories and Snapchats, which once disappeared forever into a digital void, are now able to be saved and stored. The fifteen minutes of fame has morphed into fifteen seconds: in this way, time works both for and against the anxious author of digital autofiction. Technologies evolve quicker than we can keep up, with popular platforms becoming obsolete at a rapid pace. This results in what Kylie Cardell sees as an “anxiety around the traces of lives accumulating online and the consequences of 'accidental autobiography,' as well as the desire to have a 'tidy,' representable, and 'storied' life” (503).This same desire can be seen at the root of autofiction. The media theorist José van Dijck notes thatwith the advent of photography, and later film and television, writing tacitly transformed into an interior means of consciousness and remembrance, whereupon electronic forms of media received the artificiality label…writing gained status as a more authentic container of past recollection. (15)Autofiction, however, disrupts this tacit transformation. It is a co-mingling of a desire to record the self, as well as a desire to control one’s own narrative. The drive to represent oneself in a specific way, with consideration to one’s audience and self-brand, has become the root of social media, but is so pervasive now that it is often an unexamined, subconscious one. In autofiction, this drive is not subconscious, it is self-conscious.ConclusionAs technology has developed, new ways to record, present and evaluate the self have emerged. While an impulse to self-monitor has always existed within society, with the rise of ‘presencing’ through social media this impulse has been made public. In this way, we can see presencing, or the public practice of self-performing through media, as an inherently autofictional practice. We can understand that the act of presencing stems from a place of anxiety and self-consciousness, and understand that is in fact impossible to create autofiction without self-consciousness. As we begin to understand that all digital media is becoming inherently autofictional in nature, we’re increasingly required to force to draw our own conclusions about the media we consume—just like the author-character of 10:04 is forced to draw his own conclusions about the passing of time, as represented by Big Ben, when interacting with Marclay’s The Clock. 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