Journal articles on the topic 'Shaft kiln process'

Lime is the product of calcination. Its formation is always related to removal of carbon dioxide generated in the course of carbonate decomposition. Ferrous metallurgy, construction material, chemical and food industry companies account for about 90 % of lime produced in the country. Ferrous metallurgy is the major consumer of commercial lime using up to 40 % of all produced lime. Currently, despite occurrence of new binding and artificially produced chemical compounds, lime remains the major chemical compound produced by the industry in terms of output. Various units (shaft, rotary tubular kilns and fluidized bed kilns) are used for calcination. Shaft kilns are used the most widely. Considering continuously growing demand for lime, the need occurs for intensification of the burning process and optimization of the shaft kiln operating conditions. This requires knowledge of calcination physicochemical and heat transfer process mechanisms. Thus, the work deals with the issues related to determination of the optimal specific fuel consumption for burning of limestone from a particular deposit. It may be done only basing on thermal calculations for an operating shaft kiln, what, in its turn, causes the need for determination of the whole set of limestone and lime heat transfer properties. The obtained work results may be used to optimize the operating conditions of not only shaft but also rotary kilns intended for limestone heat treatment.

Infrastructure development, particularly the housing problem, is one of the serious issues in developing countries like Nepal. The development of housing complexes is related to various financial and environmental implications. One of the basic parameters involved in the infrastructure development pertinent to Kathmandu valley is the use of alternative materials to masonry unit, particularly bricks. Vertical Shaft Brick Kiln (VSBK) should be adopted and diffused in Nepal because it is high time for energy-efficient and environmentally friendly technologies. Various studies and monitoring has shown that (VSBK) Vertical Shaft Brick Kiln technology is an improved brick making process. The major advantage of VSBK technology is its energy efficiency and environmental friendliness. VSBK consumes 30 to 40% less energy and reduces environmental pollution by 80 to 90% in comparison to FCBTK technology. The Strength of this brick is also higher than FCBTK brick. Further VSBK provides an improved working environment (Reduced Occupational Health Hazards) to the workers.

The current status of technical development of annular shaft kiln for limestone calcination production is described in this paper. Based on the existing technological accumulation, a new type annular shaft kiln with capacity of 600t/d has been developed independently by Beijing Shougang International Engineering Technology Co. Ltd. A number of key technologies of the new type large annular shaft kiln are researched and integrated, include thermal process system determination, lining refractory structure optimization, heat-exchanger configuration etc. The major advanced characteristics of new type annular shaft kiln are energy saving, higher efficiency, lower environmental pollution, lower emission, lower engineering investment, and lower operation cost. The excellent performances and application results in production have been achieved at Shougang Qiangang steel plant.

The essential part of the refractory materials production on a basis of sintered dolomite as raw material is the process of dolomite calcination. The technology process usually takes place in shaft or rotary kilns, where the dolomite stone, CaMg(CO3)2, is subjected to a high temperature heat treatment. The calcination of the dolomite is highly endothermic reaction, requiring significant amount of thermal energy to produce sintered dolomite (CaO, MgO), generating a large flow of hot gases at the furnace outlet. The objective of this work was to assess the possibilities of utilization of waste heat of exhaust gases from a shaft kiln in order to improve the overall energy efficiency of the technology process. Several different options were analyzed: (a) preheating of a raw material, (b) preheating of heavy fuel oil, (c) preheating of combustion air, (d) preheating of combustion air and raw material with flue gas, and (e) preheating of air for combustion and for drying of a raw material. Option (e) was selected as the most attractive and therefore it was analyzed in more details, showing significant annual energy savings and relatively short simple payback period on the investment.

Understanding the flow pattern of the gas jets in packed beds can have considerable significance in improving reactor design and process optimization. This study researches the fuel diffusion in the radial direction and the flame length in a packed bed of a parallel flow regenerative shaft kiln. This kiln is characterized that the fuel is injected vertically in the packed bed using a lot of lances in the cross-section while the combustion air is distributed continuously. Such a large, packed bed has to be approximated as a porous media. This assumption is used to model the reactive flow in the kilns. Using a box with 700 spheres of 52 mm spheres in body-centered cube arrangement the local concentrations of injected nitrogen in air-flow were measured. The measured values match approximately with those calculated with the porous media model. The studied parameters are the number of burners and burner arrangements. The radial mixing of fuel and air in a packed bed is relatively bad. Therefore, a lot of burners are needed for better temperature homogenization in the cross-section

The main objective of this paper is to establish a mathematical framework to analyze the complex thermal economic performance of the calcination process. To find the factors affecting exergy efficiency loss, different exergy destruction is investigated in detail. Furthermore, the exergy flow cost model for exergy cost saving has also been developed. The results show that the vertical shaft furnace is a self-sufficiency equipment without additional fuel required, but the overall exergy destruction accounts for 54.11% of the total exergy input. In addition, the energy efficiency of the waste heat recovery boiler and thermal deaerator are 83.52% and 96.40%, whereas the exergy efficiency of the two equipment are 65.98% and 94.27%. Furthermore, the import exergy flow cost of vertical shaft furnace, waste heat recovery boiler and thermal deaerator are 366.5197 RMB/MJ, 0.1426 RMB/MJ and 0.0020RMB/MJ, respectively. Based on the result, several suggestions were proposed to improve the exergoeconomic performance. Assessing the performance of suggested improvements, the total exergy destruction of vertical shaft furnace is reduced to 134.34 GJ/h and the exergy efficiency of waste heat recovery boiler is raised up to 66.02%. Moreover, the import exergy flow cost of the three different equipment is reduced to 0.0329 RMB/MJ, 0.1304 RMB/MJ and 0.0002 RMB/MJ, respectively.

Material failures in engineering are characterized by unwanted downtime of equipment and require the application of sound engineering principles to rectify the problem so that it does not reoccur. The most widely method for repairing damaged steel structures such as rope drum shaft or cracked cement kiln is by Manual metal arc welding. The equipment mentioned have their main importance that, when they are broken down, they cost a lot of money in lost revenue and affects a lot of people in terms of business and livelihood. The nominal diameter (DN) 240 rope drum shaft was damaged when the roller bearing failed and abraded the shaftbearing journal in such a way that the diameter decreased. The solution was either to order the new shaft, or repair the existing shaft in workshops with lathe machines capable of accommodating it. Ordering the new one will have taken a long time to deliver. Installation process would have been costly taking into consideration the position of the hoist drum being at a height of over 40 meters above the ground, and no crane was available in the country with required capacity. The remaining and immediate solution was to repair the damaged bearing journal in-situ. The paper describes how the repair was carried out successfully, and has been in operation since 1995. Recently, another failure of the same nature occurred on another equipment in which the same assistance were sought. In 1994, the cement kiln was found to have a 270 mm length circumferential crack on a 65 mm thick plate which needed urgent repair so that the production of cement can proceed while waiting for replacement. The immediate repair was necessary to avoid the bending of the kiln which would have caused uneven rotation and poor sealing of refractory bricks. The crack was on the cantilever section of the kiln which, if the crack was allowed to grow, would have caused the section with cooler tubes to snap off. The paper explains how the repair was carried out allowing the plant to operate for two years before segmentreplacement.

As an excellent reducing agent, lime has an important role in the steel production process. Annular Shaft Kiln (ASK) has been widely used in the lime production industry for its low cost, low footprint, high chemical activity, easy construction, and easy maintenance. Due to the high temperature generated inside ASK during operation, it is hard to observe the limestone decomposition process and the field distribution in the lime kiln. The simulation analysis of temperature field, velocity field and decomposition field in the limestone calcination process by CFD provides practical guidance for future lime product quality control, ASK design and operation parameters’ control. This study is based on an ASK that was put into production. Based on the finite volume method, this paper combines the porous medium model and the shrinking core model to establish a set of mathematical models that can describe the temperature and flow field distribution inside the ASK, as well as the limestone decomposition process and the heat and mass transfer process inside the ASK. According to the feedback from the production site, the mathematical model is in good agreement with the production results.

In the production of phosphate fertilizer, large amounts of phosphorus gypsum can be produced, which can be used for the preparation of ammonium sulfate. In which process, a large number of secondary emissions-calcium carbonate residue can be produced as well, whose main mineral composition was CaCO3. Calcium carbonate residue can be conversion to high activity Lime by roasting at high temperature. This research used high solid/gas ratio suspended roasting technology to deal with calcium carbonate residue, and built a calcium carbonate residue test preparation of active lime production line with Wengfu Group at 2011,earned product with 97.7% CaCO3 apparent decomposition rate,59% CaO content and with high activity(160s to 180s).Relative to the traditional roasting device such as rotary kiln and shaft kiln, suspended roasting has a better thermal efficiency (4402kJ/kg), which can be used for large-scale industrial production. And this process will not generate new secondary emissions,thus we can get a complete "green" phosphate fertilizer industry chain.

The industry of coal-based green needle coke develops rapidly in recent years. The green coke produced by the delayed coking process usually has a moisture content of 10%–25%, which damages the calcining kiln and needle coke quality. A standing dehydration tank is currently used to reduce the moisture content of green coke. However, this process has several weaknesses such as unstable operation, large land area occupation, and low productivity. To solve this issue, a novel drying system with a shaft dryer proposed in this work is suitable for green coke drying. Moreover, the performances of the green coke are investigated to design the proposed shaft dryer. The experimental result shows that the average vertex angle of the pile of green cokes is 109.2°. The pressure drop of the dryer increases linearly with the green coke bed height, and the green coke with a larger size has a smaller pressure drop. The specific pressure drops are 5714, 5554, 5354, and 5114 Pa/m, with median green coke sizes of 26.85, 29.00, 30.45, and 31.80 mm, respectively. Tooth spacing is another important parameter which influences the mass of green coke leakage. The optimal tooth spacing and rotary speed of the rollers are determined by the required production yield.

Due to the undesirable characteristics of iron ore resources in China, it is necessary to utilize refractory iron ores resources with high efficiency. The mining and mineral processing costs are usually high. The supply of domestic iron ores in China has been in serious shortage for a long time. Therefore, the development and utilization of complex and refractory iron ore resources are extremely urgent. Magnetizing roasting followed by magnetic separation is an important method for the beneficiation of low grade iron ores. More attention has been paid to fluidized bed magnetizing roasting rather than shaft furnace and rotary kiln roasting in recent years. In this paper, the main characteristics of fluidized bed magnetizing roasting technology and the development process of its application in the beneficiation of refractory iron ores are introduced. The research status of several typical fluidized bed roasting processes and equipment in China are also summarized. Moreover, the application prospect of the technology for efficient utilization of low grade hematite, siderite, and limonite ores, as well as iron containing tailings, is analyzed.

The feasibility of using captured carbon dioxide as an enabling starting material for fresh concrete carbonation curing was studied. Carbonation curing of fresh concrete accelerates hydration, shortens production time, and recycles carbon dioxide recovered from cement kiln. The challenge is if an optimized process window can be established that can compete with steam curing. The carbonation reactivity of fresh concrete was reduced by high water content and internal relative humidity. It was found that water content was more dominant at a fresh state. When the water content was reduced to 40%, the internal relative humidity was still over 95%. A novel process including a high water to cement ratio mix, a precondition drying, and a static carbonation curing was developed to establish an optimized process window for enhanced carbon dioxide uptake and concrete early strength within an 8 h work shift.

The cement industry contributes about 5% to global anthropogenic CO2 emissions, and is thus an important sector in CO2-emission mitigation strategies. Carbon dioxide is emitted from the calcination process of limestone, from combustion of fuels in the kiln, and from the coal combustion during power generation. Strategies to reduce these CO2 emissions include energy efficiency improvement, new processes, shift to low carbon fuels or waste fuels in cement production, increased use of additives in cement production, alternative cements, and CO2 removal from flue gases in clinker kilns. Increased use of fly ash as an additive to cement and concrete has a number of advantages, the primary being reduction of costs of fly ash disposal, resource conservation, and cost reduction of the product. Since the production of cement requires a large amount of energy (about 2.9-3.2 GJt-1), the substitution of cement by fly ash saves not only energy but also reduces the associated greenhouse gas emissions. The paper evaluates the reduction of CO2 emissions that can be achieved by these mitigation strategies, as well as by partial substitution of cement by fly ash. The latter is important because the quality of the produced concrete depends on the physical-chemical properties of the fly ash and thus partial substitution as well as the type of fly ash (e.g., the content of CaO) has an effect not only on energy consumption and emissions, but also on the produced concrete quality.

AbstractThis article explores the ways in which families are reproduced in Botswana's time of AIDS. It argues that conjugal relationships are transformed into kin relationships through a gradual process of recognition in which they become visible, spoken about and known to ever wider spheres of kin. For women, this process is often catalysed by pregnancy; for men, by marriage negotiations – and for both, recognition is key to self-making. However, every shift in recognition is risky and tenuous, even reversible, and marked bydikgang– ‘issues’, conflicts or crises – the negotiation of which is crucial to its kin- and self-making capacity. Tswana kinship and personhood, in other words, are constituted in crisis, making them both highly fraught and highly resilient. In this context, HIV becomes one of many risks entailed in intimacy and kin-making – suggesting one explanation for persistently high rates of HIV infection in Botswana, and indicating an unexpected capacity in families to absorb crises such as the AIDS epidemic.

This article employs multi-sited ethnography as a tool to explore the relationships among farmer seed exchange practices, intellectual property rights legislation, and biodiversity. Specifically, it investigates these issues in the historically, ecologically and culturally diverse contexts of the Costa Rican and Latvian organic agriculture movements, as these small countries negotiate their places in the economic trading blocs of the Central American Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA) and the European Union (EU), respectively. The juxtaposition of two such different cases reveals the micro-processes whereby the imposition of intellectual property rights on seeds replaces the centrality of social kin networks through which seeds are exchanged with bureaucratic transactions. This shift from exchanging seeds among kin to tracing the genetic lineage of seeds is part of a global process of commodification and control of seeds. Increasing efforts to “harmonize” intellectual property rights on seeds and plant varieties throughout the world will have profound impacts on food production, small farmer livelihoods and social networks, and agricultural biodiversity.

The importance of kin relationships varies with socioecological demands. Among subsistence agriculturalists, people commonly manage fluctuations in food availability by relying on family members to share resources and pool labor. However, the process of market integration may disrupt these support networks, which may begin to carry costs or liabilities in novel market environments. The current study aims to address (1) how kin are distributed in household support networks (2) how kin support varies as households become more engaged in market activities, and (3) how variation in kin support is associated with income disparities within a Yucatec Maya community undergoing rapid market integration. Using long-term census data combined with social networks and detailed household economic data, we find that household support networks are primarily composed of related households. Second, households engaged predominantly in wage labor rely less on kin support than agricultural or mixed economy households. Finally, kin support is associated with lower household net income and income per capita. Understanding how kin support systems shift over the course of market integration and in the face of new opportunities for social and economic production provides a unique window into the social and economic drivers of human family formation.

SUMMARYThe capacity of polymorphonuclear neutrophils (PMN) and other leucocytes of the innate immune system to expel their DNA in a controlled process into the extracellular environment to trap and kill pathogenic microorganisms led to a paradigm shift in our comprehension of host leucocyte-pathogen interactions. Formation of neutrophil extracellular traps (NETs) has recently been recognized as a novel effector mechanism of the host innate immune response against microbial infections. Meanwhile evidence has arisen that NET formation is a widely spread mechanism in vertebrates and invertebrates and extends not only to the entrapment of microbes, fungi and viruses but also to the capture of protozoan and metazoan parasites. PMN produce NETs after stimulation with mitogens, cytokines or pathogens in a controlled process which depends on reactive oxygen species (ROS) and the induction of the Raf-MEK-ERK-mediated signalling pathway cascade. NETs consist of nuclear DNA as a backbone decorated with histones, antimicrobial peptides, and PMN-specific granular enzymes thereby providing an extracellular matrix capable of entrapping and killing invasive pathogens. This review is intended to summarize parasite-related data on NETs. Special attention will be given to NET-associated mechanisms by which parasites, in particular apicomplexa, might be hampered in their ability to reproduce within the host cell and complete the life cycle.

We recently demonstrated that immune checkpoint PD-1 was endogenously expressed in pancreatic ductal adenocarcinoma (PDAC) cells. Our data indicated that PD-1 proteins are not exclusive to immune cells and have unrecognized signal transduction cascades intrinsic to cancer cells. Building on this paradigm shift, we sought to further characterize PD-1 expression in PDAC. We utilized a phospho-explorer array to identify pathways upregulated by PD-1 signaling. We discovered PD-1-mediated activation of the proto-oncogene MET in PDAC cells, which was dependent on hepatocyte growth factor (MET ligand) and not secondary to direct protein interaction. We then discovered that the PD-1/MET axis in PDAC cells regulated growth, migration, and invasion. Importantly, the PD-1/MET axis induced epithelial-to-mesenchymal transition (EMT), a well-established early oncogenic process in PDAC. We observed that combined targeting of PDAC cell PD-1 and MET resulted in substantial direct tumor cell cytotoxicity and growth inhibition in PDAC cell lines, patient-derived organoids, and patient-derived xenografts independent of cytotoxic immune responses. This is the first report of PDAC-endogenous PD-1 expression regulating MET signaling, which builds upon our growing body of work showing the oncogenic phenotype of PD-1 expression in PDAC cells is distinct from its immunogenic role. These results highlight a paradigm shift that the tumor-specific PD-1 axis is a novel target to effectively kill PDAC cells by antagonizing previously unrecognized PD-1-dependent oncogenic pathways.

Control of flat-band voltage (Vfb) in 4H-SiC gate stacks is inevitable for high-voltage power MOSFET applications, since a sufficiently large threshold voltage (Vth) is required to suppress the false turn on. However, the increase in channel doping concentration to tune Vth results in a drastic reduction of carrier mobility in the inversion channel, due to Coulomb scattering caused by SiO2/4H-SiC interface [1]. Therefore a negative shift of Vfb is not preferred in terms of channel resistance reduction. The SiC surface nitridation process by a post-oxidation annealing (POA) in NO ambient at elevated temperature is an inevitable technique to suppress the interface defects [2]. However, a serious drawback is the fact that a negative shift of Vfb is often observed by employing NO-POA. Two possible mechanisms are to be considered which cause negative Vfb shifts in SiO2/4H-SiC MOS gate stacks: the generation of positive fixed charges, and the formation of interface dipole layers. We systematically investigated the flat-band voltage of SiO2/4H-SiC (0001) n-type MOS capacitors with various oxide thickness, fabricated by conventional dry oxidation followed by NO-POA at 1150℃ for several hours. When fixed charges are existing at the interface, it is natural to observe a linear relationship between the oxide thickness and Vfb, where we can estimate the fixed charge density from the slope. As a result, we found that the fixed charge densities were quite small after sufficient nitridation processes, however, an anomalous negative shift of Vfb in several hundreds of mV irrespective of oxide thickness was observed, which was enlarged by extending NO annealing duration [3]. This anomalous shift would be explainable by assuming a dipole layer formation at the interface by SiC surface nitridation, which may be caused by polar Si3-N tetrapod structure formation with high density aligned at the interface. Next we studied the impact of additional annealing after nitridation on Vfb, since the SiC device processes in general require such additional annealing including metallization processes. We conducted an additional 1 min rapid thermal annealing in N2 after NO-POA (post-nitridation anneal; PNA) at various temperatures from 800 to 1150℃. As a result, positive interface fixed charges were generated more by the PNA at higher temperatures [4], while fixed charge generation was insignificant by the PNA at low temperature such as 800℃ [4]. Note that interface state density did not change significantly by these PNA processes. Besides the influences on the Vfb shift, the interface dipole layer formation naturally affects the SiO2/4H-SiC band alignment. The conduction band offset, which is one of the critical factors to determine the gate leakage current level, must be dependent on the dipole layer strength. The valence-band spectra analysis using x-ray photoelectron spectroscopy and the energy barrier height characterization of Fowler-Nordheim current analysis tell us that the conduction-band offset at SiO2/SiC interface monotonically becomes larger by increasing the amount of nitrogen at the interface, which is consistent with the negative shift of Vfb observed in MOS capacitors [3]. To our surprise, this trend appeared in opposite direction when the gate stacks were fabricated on 4H-SiC (1-100) wafers [5]. Finally we examined another way to tune the Vfb of SiC gate stacks by the introduction of additional dipole layer, by depositing of just a few nm-thick Al2O3 layer on top of SiO2 after NO-POA, based on the concept of oxide interface dipole layers reported for various high-k/SiO2 interfaces. As a result we successfully demonstrated ~1V Vfb shift without any deterioration of interface state density only by Al2O3 deposition [6]. This technique is expected as an additional method to achieve larger Vfb. In conclusion, we found that Vfb of nitrogen passivated SiO2/4H-SiC gate stacks is significantly affected by two factors: the positive fixed charges at the interface mainly introduced by post-nitridation annealing, and the interface dipole layer formation due to the polar structures aligned at the interface, or the intentionally introduced dipole layer by depositing a few nm-thick Al2O3 on top of SiO2. [1] M. Noguchi et al., Jpn. J. Appl. Phys. 58, 031004 (2019). [2] J. Rozen et al., J. Appl. Phys. 105, 124506 (2009). [3] T. H. Kil and K. Kita, Appl. Phys. Lett. 116, 122103 (2020). [4] T. H. Kil and K. Kita, 2021 International Workshop on Dielectric Thin Films for Future Electron Devices: Science and Technology (IWDTF), Nov. 2021. [5] T. H. Kil, A. Tamura, S. Shimizu and K. Kita, Appl. Phys. Express 14, 081005 (2021). [6] T. H. Kil, M. Noguchi, H. Watanabe, and K. Kita, Solid-State Electronics 183, 108115 (2021).

In post-authoritarian Argentina, veterans who participated in the brutal counterinsurgency of the last dictatorship (1976–1983) inhabit an extremely inconsistent citizenship, alternatively violating and respecting legal rights and entitlements. This article looks at how alternating transitional justice practices and the ever-changing moral discourses about warfare and accountability create highly unstable access to rights, resources, and entitlements for these veterans in Argentina. Th e recent shift toward retribution for crimes against humanity in Argentina has legally consolidated their moral downfall. From being untouchable and exemplary officers until the early 1980s, the now convicted military officers have been demoted twice by the state and the military institution. Based on long-term fieldwork with the convicted officers and their kin, this article traces the contingent relation between the moral and legal practices that underlie this double downfall that constitutes a fluctuating process of un/becoming veteranship for these veterans. Their veteranship, for that matter, depends on highly conflictive and transformative sociopolitical processes that speak to broader moral dispositions surrounding legal rights, entitlements, and worthiness for veterans.

The process of securing data is related to anti-forensic science, one of the anti-forensic techniques that can be used to safeguard data security, namely by deleting data on storage media. This study examines the implementation of data deletion using the DoD 5220.22 M and British HMG IS5 E methods, then compares these methods. The comparison of the two methods includes performance tests, forensic tests, and data recovery tests. The results of the performance test show that the two methods are strongly influenced by the anti-forensic tools used and do not provide a significant difference when applied using one of the tools. The results of the implementation of data deletion using both methods on the hard disk drive are declared safe to delete data, as evidenced by the extraction results in the forensic test using the Autopsy tool found files on the partition :F with the number of 252 files and on the partition :I with the number of 1 file and the extraction results from the test Forensics using the Recover My File tool managed to find files with the number of 102 files on different partitions, but all the files found in the forensic test process cannot be accessed. The results of the recovery test show that the safest method in the process of deleting data is the British HMG IS5 E method using the Active @ Kill Disk tool, as evidenced by all the results of the recovery process using three tools that do not find any files. Meanwhile, the application of the deletion method that is generally carried out by users, namely the shift + delete method, is declared unsafe, as evidenced by the results of the recovery tests conducted showing that the deleted files can be recovered 100% and can be reaccessed using recovery tools.

Abstract This article uses Denise Giardina’s 1987 novel, Storming Heaven, as a case study to look at how labor is represented aesthetically in fiction for political ends. The narrative depicts the theft of an Appalachian pastoral scene, which quickly devolves into mine work, abuse, and death. Mine labor is described vividly, and it is performed under the steady eye of mine guards who use threats, intimidation, and weapons to quash strikes, kill strikers, and keep miners working and living in fear. Giardina’s novel is a political novel that challenges unfair working conditions and neoliberal exploitation. She uses her work to create a sense of exhaustion through aesthetic and narrative choices. Exhaustion, with its resonances of hard work and honest labor, helps Giardina shift the Southern Appalachian structures of feeling from past political and social loss toward an alignment of political activism and futurity. Excerpts from reviews of the novel show how readers process their sense of exhaustion and the novel’s political aims. Giardina’s style is effective for getting readers to sympathize with her labor politics by using a familiar, anti-cathartic staying-power, although this style seems to lack a sense of sustainability and risks making readers feel manipulated or politically fatigued.

The past two decades have witnessed a reassessment and broadening of conceptions of identity among both the ethnic Estonian and Russian populations in Estonia. In addition to a continuing focus on aspects of national distinctiveness, emphasizing their small numbers, language, culture, territorial homeland, and—as a new factor—the state, the Estonians have increasingly engaged with a wider range of identities (local, regional, and European). Among these, the regional level has been the most productive, enhancing Estonia’s already strong ties to Finland but also fostering closer connections to its other Nordic and Baltic neighbors. Although integration into NATO and integration into the European Union continue to receive strong approval, a European identity is still in the process of formation. For the Russian community, the fall of communism led to a full reevaluation of the bases of its identity. The major trend has seen a shift from a political consciousness (loyalty to the Soviet Union) to a greater emphasis on the Russian language and ethnicity. In spite of the general peacefulness of ethnic relations, any meaningful integration of the two major nationalities in Estonia remains incomplete, as graphically demonstrated in the Bronze Soldier affair in April 2007. Russians, especially younger ones, increasingly know the Estonian language, but views of history, especially regarding World War II, and attitudes toward Russia still differ markedly between the Estonian and Russian populations. The process of integration is further complicated by the neighboring and still powerful kin-state of the local Russian population.

Abstract BACKGROUND Glioblastoma (GBM) tumours recur following standard treatment in almost all cases. We use ‘omics technologies to simultaneously profile pairs of primary and matched recurrent GBM to specifically identify and characterise the cells that resisted treatment, with the aim of determining how to more effectively kill them. MATERIAL AND METHODS We have analysed high coverage RNAseq data from pairs of GBM tumours: primary de novo tumour and matched local recurrence from patients that underwent standard therapy. Our original cohort constituted 23 pairs and our validation cohort was an additional 22 pairs. We also cultured two plates of spheroids directly from a patient’s GBM, treating one with radiation and temozolomide. We monitored growth and captured and sequenced RNA from single cells at two time-points: one week post-treatment when the deviation between untreated and treated spheroid growth curves was most pronounced; and three weeks post-treatment when the growth rate of treated spheroids had recovered. We investigated differential gene expression between primary and recurrent pairs, and single cells pre- and post-treatment, and performed a bespoke per patient gene set enrichment analysis. RESULTS Differential gene expression analysis in 23 tumour pairs indicated a treatment-induced shift in cell states linked to normal neurogenesis and prompted us to develop a novel gene set enrichment analysis approach to identify gene regulatory factors that may orchestrate such a shift. This revealed the significant and universal dysregulation of genes, through therapy, that are targeted by a specific chromatin remodeling machinery. This finding was validated in an independent cohort of 22 further GBM pairs. To understand the therapeutic potential of this finding we must determine whether genes are dysregulated through therapy owing to a) their fixed expression in inherently treatment resistance cells in the primary tumour which get selected during therapy to increase the signal of that profile, or b) changes in expression during the process of cells acquiring treatment resistance. To inspect this, we analysed single cell gene expression data from GBM spheroids pre- and post-treatment. We found that there was significant dysregulation of the genes associated with the chromatin remodeling complex but only at the three-week post-treatment time-point. CONCLUSION Our results indicate that GBM cells are being transcriptionally reprogrammed in response to treatment; the mechanism of which may represent a therapeutic opportunity.

The NADPH–oxidase is a plasma membrane enzyme complex that enables phagocytes to generate superoxide in order to kill invading pathogens, a critical step in the host defense against infections. The oxidase transfers electrons from cytosolic NADPH to extracellular oxygen, a process that requires concomitant H+ extrusion through depolarization-activated H+ channels. Whether H+ fluxes are mediated by the oxidase itself is controversial, but there is a general agreement that the oxidase and H+ channel are intimately connected. Oxidase activation evokes profound changes in whole-cell H+ current (IH), causing an approximately −40-mV shift in the activation threshold that leads to the appearance of inward IH. To further explore the relationship between the oxidase and proton channel, we performed voltage-clamp experiments on inside-out patches from both resting and phorbol-12-myristate-13-acetate (PMA)-activated human eosinophils. Proton currents from resting cells displayed slow voltage-dependent activation, long-term stability, and were blocked by micromolar internal [Zn2+]. IH from PMA-treated cells activated faster and at lower voltages, enabling sustained H+ influx, but ran down within minutes, regaining the current properties of nonactivated cells. Bath application of NADPH to patches excised from PMA-treated cells evoked electron currents (Ie), which also ran down within minutes and were blocked by diphenylene iodonium (DPI). Run-down of both IH and Ie was delayed, and sometimes prevented, by cytosolic ATP and GTP-γ-S. A good correlation was observed between the amplitude of Ie and both inward and outward IH when a stable driving force for e− was imposed. Combined application of NADPH and DPI reduced the inward IH amplitude, even in the absence of concomitant oxidase activity. The strict correlation between Ie and IH amplitudes and the sensitivity of IH to oxidase-specific agents suggest that the proton channel is either part of the oxidase complex or linked by a membrane-limited mediator.

BackgroundNatural killer (NK) cell-based immunotherapies, from biologics to cell products, are being studied in the clinic across many cancer settings. These treatments have had therapeutic success for hematological malignancies but their impact on solid tumors remains limited. To succeed in the solid tumor setting, NK cells must enter the tumor microenvironment, with its low oxygen concentration (hypoxia), and retain functionality. Hypoxia is known to impair NK cell function, but a greater understanding of the mechanisms driving this impairment could lead to improvements in NK cell immunotherapy for solid tumors.MethodsWe used an advanced incubator system: AVATARTM (Xcell biosciences), to finely tune the oxygen conditions in vitro to mimic the physiologic (5–12% oxygen) and hypoxic (1% oxygen) conditions found in vivo. Human NK cells were isolated from healthy donor blood and cultured with a low dose of interleukin 15 for up to 7 days, at 20% oxygen (standard incubator) or at 12%, 5% or 1% oxygen, to replicate the physiological conditions found in blood, bone marrow or hypoxic tumor, respectively. Phenotypes were analyzed by mass cytometry. Confocal and live cell imaging examined the cytotoxic process. Metabolic processes were assessed by flow cytometry and Seahorse assay. RNAseq and ATACseq were performed.ResultsNK cells were capable of natural cytotoxicity and antibody-dependent cellular cytotoxicity at physiological oxygen concentrations (5–20% oxygen), but killing was impaired under hypoxia (1% oxygen). Examination of the cytotoxic process revealed conjugate formation, polarization of granules to the synapse and granule release were not impaired by hypoxia. However, granzyme B (a component of cytotoxic granules) and the death receptor TRAIL were decreased in NK cells exposed to hypoxia (figure 1A). RNAseq revealed upregulation of histone demethylases under hypoxia, with a shift in metabolism and decrease in the cell cycle. Glycolysis was upregulated under hypoxia and there was a concomitant increase in reactive oxygen species. ATACseq revealed profound epigenetic regulation of NK cells exposed to hypoxia, with limited changes occurring in NK cells cultured in 20% oxygen (figure 1B). Activation, adhesion, killing, proliferation and cytokine secretion were all pathways differentially regulated under hypoxia compared to 20% oxygen.ConclusionsNK cells exposed to hypoxia fail to kill tumor cells. Mechanistically, a lack of granzyme B and death receptors contribute to this deficit. ATACseq reveals epigenetic signatures associated with NK cell function that may allow interventions crucial to overcome barriers to solid tumor immunotherapy.AcknowledgementsWe would like to acknowledge the services of the Minnesota Supercomputing Institute, the University Imaging Centers and the University Flow Cytometry Resource, all University of Minnesota.Abstract 638 Figure 1NK cells are altered by exposure to hypoxia. Human NK cells from healthy donor blood were cultured in standard incubators (20% oxygen) or hypoxia (1% oxygen) for 7 days. (A) The relative abundance of granzyme B and TRAIL were compared on these NK cells at day 7 by time of flight mass cytometry. Analyzed by differential expression analysis through Astrolabe Diagnostics. Each line represents a donor. (B) Venn diagram of overlap between ATACseq differential expression analysis peaks. 2,413 regions were open at day 7 compared to day 0, when cultured under hypoxia (red circle); 365 regions were open at day 7 compared to day 0, when cultured in standard incubators (yellow circle).

Abstract Mitochondrial dynamics describes the ability of mitochondria to switch between fission and fusion-active states to change morphology. Although it has long been thought that mitochondrial dynamics is downstream of various growth/differentiation signals and metabolic cues, recent studies have shown that mitochondrial morphology can also actively regulate cellular metabolism and the cell fate of normal stem cells including hematopoietic stem cells. In the present studies, we examined the role of mitochondrial dynamics in the biology of human leukemia stem cells (LSCs). We observe that LSCs are highly sensitive to the perturbation of mitochondrial morphology and that defined signal transduction pathways are involved in this process. We therefore propose that maintenance of the LSC state is critically linked to mitochondrial dynamics. Our data show that LSC enriched populations derived from primary human acute myeloid leukemia (AML) specimens have hyper-active mitochondrial fission regulators as evidenced by higher levels of mitochondrial fission 1 (FIS1) and activating phosphorylation of dynamin-related protein 1 (DRP1). LSCs also contain an increased number of smaller and globular-shaped mitochondria, indicating that they reside in a fission-active state relative to non-LSCs. Inhibition of mitochondrial fission through genetic knock-down of FIS1 (FIS1-KD) induces mitochondrial fusion and dramatically diminishes both colony-forming ability and serial engraftment potential of primary AML cells, suggesting a fission-active state of mitochondrial morphology is critical for LSC function. To dissect the mechanism by which inhibition of mitochondrial fission impairs the stem and progenitor potential of LSCs, we performed detailed analyses of molecular events following FIS1-KD. We determined that FIS1-KD in AML cells simultaneously induces activating phosphorylation of AMPK and inhibitory phosphorylation of GSK3. Consistent with AMPK activation, FIS1-depleted AML cells had elevated oxidative phosphorylation (OXPHOS) activity, increased cellular ATP, and dramatic changes of various metabolomic intermediates, indicating a clear shift to active global energy metabolism. With regard to GSK3 inhibition, we found that the FIS1-KD-induced gene expression signature strongly phenocopied the gene signature obtained using a pan-GSK3 inhibitor or shRNA-mediated knock down of GSK3. Further, FIS1-KD in AML cells also strongly induced hematopoietic differentiation as evidenced by increased surface expression of hematopoietic lineage markers, global upregulation of hematopoietic differentiation genes, and collapse of the HOXA9 transcriptional program. Importantly, both shRNA-mediated AMPK inhibition and overexpression of a constitutively active GSK3 allele can rescue the FIS1-KD-induced hematopoietic differentiation phenotype, suggesting FIS1-KD-induced differentiation is dependent on both AMPK activation and GSK3 inhibition. To investigate if FIS1-KD-induced hematopoietic differentiation depends on an altered state of mitochondrial morphology, we also studied other regulators of mitochondrial dynamics including fission player DRP1 and fusion players mitofusin 2 (MFN2) and Optic Atrophy 1 (OPA1). We showed that shRNA-mediated KD of fusion players MFN2 and OPA1 can also rescue FIS1-KD induced hematopoietic differentiation, suggesting the balance between the activity of fission and fusion regulators is critical in determining the fate of LSCs. In addition, we showed that shRNA-mediated KD of the fission player DRP1 could also lead to AMPK activation and GSK3 inhibition, in strong agreement with FIS1-KD. Finally, we showed that combined treatment of AMPK activator and GSK3 inhibitors can severely kill AML cells, suggesting a potential therapeutic strategy. Taken together, we propose that mitochondrial dynamics plays a previously unrealized yet important role in sustaining LSCs of AML. Further, inhibition of mitochondrial fission players can activate AMPK signaling, force active energy metabolism, collapse GSK3-mediated transcription programs, and induce hematopoietic differentiation, all of which lead to loss of stem and progenitor potential of AML cells. Thus the current study reveals a novel dependence of LSCs on mitochondrial dynamics, and provides novel insights towards improved therapeutic regimens. Disclosures Pollyea: Celgene: Other: advisory board, Research Funding; Ariad: Other: advisory board; Glycomimetics: Other: DSMB member; Pfizer: Other: advisory board, Research Funding; Alexion: Other: advisory board.

Dr. Akira Mizuta Lippit, author of Electric Animal: Toward a Rhetoric of Wildlife, explores, in the context of the development of cinema, how the concept of “the animal” has become central to modern understandings of human subjectivity. Lippit considers the disappearance of real animals and their concurrent appearance in various conceptual and material uses, particularly noting the ways in which the conjoined notions of humanity and animality figure into and through cinema. The animal, he argues, haunts the foundation of western logical systems. Yet, despite the fact that humans and animals suffer under the discursive weight of the signifier, Lippit is careful to note the increasing instability of the human-animal boundary and what might be done to realize more just relationships among both humans and other animals. On February 12, 2008, Lauren Corman spoke with Lippit as part of the “Animal Voices” radio program, a weekly show dedicated to animal advocacy and cultural critique. They discussed how Lippit developed his thesis and the ramifications of his theoretical work. Electric Animal: Toward a Rhetoric of Wildlife was published in 2000 by the University of Minnesota Press. “Animal Voices” can be heard weekly on CIUT 89.5 FM in Toronto, or online at animalvoices.ca.Full TextLauren Corman: How have questions regarding animals and animality figured into your film scholarship? When did you bring these themes into your work, and why? Akira Mizuta Lippit: That is its own story in a way. The book that you refer to, Electric Animal, was written initially as my doctoral dissertation, and at the time, I was thinking in particular about the moment at which cinema appeared in the late 19th century. There are all kinds of phantasmatic and imaginary birthdays of cinema, but generally people agree that 1895, or thereabouts, was when cinema appeared as a set of technological, aesthetic, and cultural features, and as an economic mode of exchange. People sold and bought tickets and attended screenings. And I was thinking about what it must have felt like at that moment to experience this uncanny medium. There are various reports of early film performances and screenings, some of them apocryphal and inventive and embellished and so forth, but I think the fascination, the kind of wonder that cinema evoked among many early viewers had to do with this uncanny reproduction of life, of living movement, and the strange tension that it created between this new technology (and we are in the middle of the industrial revolution and seeing the advent of all sorts of technologies and devices and apparatuses), and its proximity to, in a simple way, life: the movements of bodies. And I began to think that the principle of animation, here was critical. To make something move, and in thinking about the term animation and all of its roots, to make something breathe, to make something live. What struck me, in this Frankensteinian moment was the sense that something had come to life, and the key seemed to be about how people understood, conceived of, and practiced this notion of animating life through a technology. I started to hear a resonance between animals and animation. I started to think about the way in which animals also played a role, not only in early cinema and in animation and the practice of the genre but leading up to it in the famous photographs of Edward Muybridge and Étienne-Jules Marey, the moving images of animals that were produced serially, as well as the “chronophotographs” that rendered animal motion. And it occurred to me that there was a reason to pause and think about what role animals were playing at that moment in history. As I began to read, and as I began to collect materials and to think through this question of the status and function of the animal, what animality meant, it took on its own set of values, and essentially Electric Animal ended up being a kind of preamble, or an introduction to a book that I haven’t yet written, because I only reach at the end of the book, and in a very perfunctory manner, the advent of cinema. So in a sense, this book, and this question, about what an animal meant for generations before, at that moment and in successive generations, became its own subject, one I still think is critically linked to the question of cinema, and the arrival of cinema, and the force of cinema throughout the 20th century. LC: Let’s return to that piece that you mentioned about life, and that cinema could show or play this Frankensteinian role; of course, a parallel stream is around death, and some of the work that I have read about early cinema shows that people were quite afraid, initially, of what it meant. Could you comment on that theme of death and the animal in cinema? AML: This emerged as a major issue during the course of my study. The discourse on death and the uncanny, the idea that something appears to be there, in the form of a ghost or a phantom, already existed in discussions of photography throughout the 19th century. The sense that photography forges a material connection to the object, that the photograph establishes a material connection to the photographed object, and as such when you look at a photograph you are not simply looking at a rendering, like an artist’s interpretation in a painting or sculpture, but you are actually looking at, experiencing a kind of carnal, physical contact with the persons themselves, or with an object, reappears frequently in the discourses on photography. This creates a real excitement, and also fear. I think that effect, the photographic effect of somehow being in the presence of the thing itself, is enhanced by the addition of movement, because with movement you have the feeling that this being is not just there, looking at you perhaps, but also moving in its element, in its time, whether (and this is very important to the discussions of photography) that person is still alive or not. I think that gap is produced at the moment of any photograph and perhaps in any film: the person who appears before you, who appears to be alive, who at that moment is alive, may or may not still be alive. So it produces, among those who have thought in this way, a sense of uncanniness, something is there and isn’t there at once. Where I think that this is particularly important in this discussion of “the animal,” and as I began to discover in doing the reading (I should add that I am not a philosopher, I don’t teach philosophy, but I am a reader of philosophy; I read it sporadically, I read here and there wherever my interests are) is that with very few but important exceptions, there is a line of western philosophy that says animals are incapable of dying. On the most intuitive level this seems nonsensical. Of course animals die. We know that animals die. We kill animals; we kill them andwe see them die. No question that animals die. But the philosophical axiom here—which begins with Epicurus, but is repeated over and over, by Descartes perhaps most forcefully, and in the 20th century by Martin Heidegger—is that death is not simply a perishing, the end of life, but it is a experience that one has within life, a relationship with one’s own end. The claim that is made over and over again, which has been disputed by many people – and it is certainly not my claim – but the claim that one finds repeatedly in philosophy is that animals don’t die – they don’t have death in the way human beings have, and carry with them, death. Animals know fear, they know things like instinctual preservation, they seek to survive, but they don’t have death as an experience. Heidegger will say in the most callous way, they simply perish. It struck me that this problem was not a problem of animals, but rather a problem for human beings. If human beings don’t concede the capacity of animals to die, then what does it mean that animals are disappearing at this very moment, in the various developments of industry, in human population, in urbanization, environmental destruction, that animals are increasingly disappearing from the material and everyday world? And where do they go, if we don’t, as human beings, concede or allow them death? (Of course this is only in a very specific, and one might argue, very small, discursive space in western philosophy. Many people have pointed out that this is not the case in religious discourses, in a variety of cultural practices, and in various ethnic and cultural communities. This is a certain kind of western ideology that has been produced through a long history of western philosophy.) So the question of death, the particular form of suspended death that photography and cinema introduced appeared in response to perhaps a crisis in western critical and philosophical discourse that denied to the animal, to animals, the same kind of death that human beings experience. You have this convergence of two death-related, life-anddeath related, problems at a time when I think that these issues were particularly important. LC: So from there, the question that comes to mind is what purpose does it serve and the word that is coming to mind is identity, and the idea of human identity and subjectivity. There must be some reason that western thought keeps going back to this denial of animal death. You tie it in, as others have, to language. AML: Two key features of human subjectivity, in the tradition of western philosophy, have been language and death, and the relationship between language and death. This goes back to Plato, to Socrates, and before. The point at which I was writing Electric Animal, at the end of the 20th century, gave me the ability to look back at developments in critical theory, philosophy, and the history of ideas throughout the 20th century, and it became clear with the significant interventions of the late 1960s that from at least one century earlier, the question of human subjectivity, its stability, its absoluteness, had already been in question. This question is slowly working its way toward a radical re-evaluation of the status of, the value of, and ultimately the confidence that human beings place in their own subjectivity, and there are many, many influences: around questions of gender and sexuality, questions of race and identity, and in crimes like genocide, for example, during World War II, but before and after as well. All of these developments contribute to this reevaluation, but one could argue that at this moment, in the late 19th century already, there was a certain sense that what had been insisted upon as absolutely unique, as an absolute form in itself – the human subject – required a whole series of constant exclusions and negations for it to survive. One such exclusion is to claim as properly human, language; what makes the human being human, is the capacity for language, and through this capacity, the capacity for death. As many philosophers argue, only human beings can name death as such, because language gives us the capacity to names those things, not just objects around us, but to name those things that do not appear before us, and these would be the traditional philosophical objects: love, death, fear, life, forgiveness, friendship, and so on. And it will be assumed that animals have communication, they communicate various things within their own groups and between groups, they signal of course, but that animals don’t have language as such, which means they can’t name those things that are not before them or around them. And it is very clear that there is an effort among human beings to maintain the survival of this precious concept of human subjectivity, as absolutely distinct and absolutely unique. So you find in those long discourses on human subjectivity, this return to questions of language and death. I would suggest that at this time, with the appearance of Charles Darwin and his theory of evolution, and with other disruptive thinkers like Sigmund Freud and the advent of psychoanalysis, there is a great sense of uncertainty regarding these edifices of human subjectivity, language and death. In Electric Animal this moment is particularly rich with such shifts and instabilities, and the sense that language is not exclusive to human beings, as many people thought, but also that language is not as self-assured in human beings as people thought. Here psychoanalysis plays an important role in indicating, at least speculatively, that we are not as in control of the language that we use to the extent that we would like to believe. LC: What are the consequences of this process in western thought, where the subject is conceived through an exclusion or a negation of the animal? What are the implications for humans, and also what are the implications for animals? I know that is a huge question. AML: It is a huge question; It is a very important question. One could argue that the consequences of a certain practice, let’s say, of the politics of the subject have been disastrous, certainly for animals, but also for human beings. If you take one of the places where the form of the human subject is created, it would be Descartes’ Discourse on Method, his attempt to figure out what, when everything that can be doubted and has been doubted, is left to form the core. And this is his famous quote: “Je pense donc je suis”, I think therefore I am, I am thinking therefore I am. If you read the Discourse on Method, this is a process of exclusion: I exclude everything that I am not to arrive at the central core of what I am. The process he follows leads him to believe that it is his consciousness, it is his presence, his selfpresence with his own consciousness that establishes for him, beyond any doubt, his existence. This is somewhat heretical, it is a break from theological discourses of the soul; it represents a form of self-creation through one’s consciousness. But consciousness is a very complicated thing, a very deceptive thing, because what I believe, what I feel, is not always exactly the way things are. Looking at a series of important shifts that have taken place during what we might call generally the modern period, which extends further back than the recent past, one finds a number of assaults on the primacy of consciousness. Freud names one as the Copernican revolution, which suggested that the earth was not the centre of the universe and that human beings were not at the centre of the universe; the Darwinian revolution, which suggested that humans beings were not created apart from other forms, all other forms of organic life, and that human beings shared with other animate beings, organic beings a common history, a pre-history. And Freud (he names himself as the third of these revolutionaries), is the one who suggested that consciousness itself is not a given at any moment, or available at any moment, to us as human beings. What constitutes our sense of self, our consciousness, is drawn from experiences that we no longer have access to—interactions with others, the desires of others, the kinds of influences and wishes that were passed into us through others, our parents, other influential figures early in our life— and that what we believe to be our conscious state, our wishes, desires, dreams and so forth, are not always known to us, and in fact can’t be known because they might be devastating and horrifying, in some cases. They will tell us things about ourselves that we couldn’t properly accept or continue to live with. I think that what is happening, certainly by the time that we enter the 20th century, around this discourse of the subject is that it is no longer holding, it is no longer serving its original purpose; it is generating more anxiety than comfort. Key historical events, World War I, for example, are producing enormous blows to the idea of western progress, humanism, and Enlightenment values, to the cultural achievements of the West— Hegel, for example, a 19th century philosopher, is very explicit about this—to those values that helped to shape the world, and ultimately were supposed to have created a better world for human beings: the Enlightenment, the pursuit of knowledge, science, medicine, religion and so forth. And yet, by the mid-twentieth century many of these beliefs were exposed as illusions, especially after the advent of death camps, camps created for the sole purpose of producing, as Heidegger himself says, producing corpses, a factory for corpses. It’s not a place where people happen to die. This is an entire apparatus designed in order to expeditiously, efficiently, and economically, create corpses out of living human beings. Similarly, with the first use of the atomic bomb, on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, on human beings. This was a machine, a science, a technology, a weapon devised for maximizing, efficiently and economically, the destruction of human beings. I think what this created for many thinkers, philosophers, writers, artists, activists, citizens around the world was a sense that in fact what had helped to create this situation and these catastrophic results was not a matter of totalitarian regimes and bad politics, but something more fundamental: a certain belief that I have the right to destroy or take life from others. And how is that achieved? By first denying that those others are like me. So the discourse on Jews practiced throughout Nazi Germany is in fact even more extreme than that of the discourse on animals; in fact, as many people have pointed out, that many Nazis were famous for their love of animal, some were practicing vegetarians; they outlawed animal experimentation. In a sense animals were more like Aryan Germans, than Jews were. You have a series here of rhetorics that allow you to cast the enemy, the Other, at a distance from your own subjectivity, and in order to achieve this you have to deny them any form of subjectivity. Not just that they are just culturally different, or that they engage in different practices: They are radically and absolutely unlike me. And I believe that as many people began to think about this condition (Adorno has a very famous passage in which he talks about this), it became clear that one of the sources of this, is in fact the very ideology of the subject, which insists on an absolute autonomy, singularity, and distinct mode of existence from that which is not the subject, not any subject, the Other. Adorno, in a passage he wrote in a book titled Minima Moralia, which is a collection of aphorisms and observations he wrote during and after World War II, offers an observation I quote in Electric Animal. He titles it “People are looking at you”, and he says there is a moment in a typical scene of hunting where a wounded animal looks into the eyes of the hunter, or the killer as it dies. It produces at that moment, an effect that is undeniable: This thing, that is alive, that I have wounded and which is now dying, is looking at me. How can I deny that it is alive, that it is there, that it exists in the world, with its own consciousness, its own life, its own dreams, and desires? Adorno says the way you shake this off is you say to yourself, “It’s only an animal.” He will then link that gesture to the history of racism, and what he calls the pogrom, or genocide, against other human beings. You transfer this logic. So the ability to say to an animal, toward an animal that you have killed, whose death you’ve brought about, “It’s only an animal”, becomes the same logic you apply to other human beings when you harm or kill them. It’s a very profound observation because it suggests that in fact there is no line that separates the killing of animals from the killing of human beings. And in fact already at the moment when we kill an animal, we recognize something immediately that we have to erase from our consciousness with this phrase, “It’s only an animal.” LC: It seems to me then, too, that it’s this kind of perpetual haunting, because in that erasure, in that statement, “It’s only an animal,” there’s the animal itself that you had to assert yourself against and its living beingness. Do you think in that moment that he’s talking about—because it seems like kind of a struggle, or a narrative that you have to tell yourself—do you think that is also a moment potentially of agency, or resistance, in terms of an assertion of an animal subjectivity, or umwelt, or however you want to describe it? AML: Absolutely, and I think that Adorno’s phrase and that passage in which he is writing about this scene, an arbitrary, perhaps imaginary but typical scene of the hunt written shortly after the end of World War II, as well as all of Adorno’s pessimistic observations about the state of human culture, are written in a state of deep anguish. As he says in this very brief aphorism, we never believe this, even of the animal. When we tell ourselves, “It’s only an animal”, we in fact never believe it. Why? Because we are there and we see in the presence of an Other, a life that is there. For him it is important that the gaze, as he says, of the wounded animal, falls on the person who has perpetrated the crime. You seek to exclude it, to erase it, to dismiss it by saying that it is only an animal, but it allows you to transfer that very logic into the destruction of other human beings. Your phrase “haunting” is really important because I think that it suggests that a phantom animal becomes the crucial site not only for an animal rights, but for human ethics as well. The ability to kill another, is something in fact we—we, human beings—never properly achieve; we never truly believe this, “It’s only an animal” at that moment, Adorno says. We tell ourselves this, we insist upon it, try to protect ourselves through this mantric repetition of a phrase, “It’s only an animal,” “It’s only an animal,” yet we never believe it. And as such, we are haunted by it. I think the crisis in human subjectivity, in discourses on the human subject that arrive in the late 1950s, has everything to do with this kind of haunted presence. Human subjectivity is now a haunted subjectivity, haunted by animals, by everyone that has been excluded, by women, by people of different races, different ethnicities, different sexual preferences. And in fact the convergence of civil rights, critical theory, animal rights, feminism, the gay and lesbian movements, all of these things really shape—to use Foucault’s term—the episteme in which the primary political focus for many philosophers and theorists erupts in a critique of the subject. LC: Without getting you to offer something prescriptive [both laugh] about where to go from here, I do, I guess, want to ask about where to go from here. Because our audience is sort of the average person, turning on their car radio, or the animal rights activist, what does this mean then for… It just seems like a huge juggernaut, this huge weight, of Western history for people who want to shift, or people talk about blurring the boundaries between humans and animals (and this, of course, is very anxiety-provoking considering the legacy of Western thought), where is the turn now? Or where do you think there are potentials for (I think your phrase is) “remembering animals”? Is that the best can we can do? AML: Again, it’s an important question in so many ways. There are so many things I would like to speak to in response to that question. I would say that I don’t know if I am, by nature, an optimist or a pessimist. I do think, however, that a lot of things have been turning away from this condition, let’s say, or a certain kind of assumption, about the longevity of the human subject. I think that human subjectivity practiced honestly and ethically will continue to re-evaluate the terms of its own existence in relationship to Others, defined in the modern sense. And I do think that a certain ability to exist with an Other—an Other that may not share the same language that I speak, but certainly exists in a world that is as valuable, authentic, legitimate, as my own—will be the goal. I’ll introduce a phrase by Jacques Derrida. Somebody asked him, what does justice mean? What would justice be? He says justice is speaking to the Other in the language of the Other. I find this to be a very beautiful and very optimistic expression. It is not my task to exclude from my world those that I don’t understand; but it is my responsibility, or it is the practice or task of justice, to learn the Other’s language, which is to give the Other that capacity for language, to assume that there is in the Other, language. Language is, according to that earlier part of our conversation, language is that which is traditionally denied to the Other. “I don’t know what you mean when you speak”;, “women speak emotionally”; “ animals don’t have any language”; “the language that less developed cultures speak is not as articulate or precise as the language that I speak”, and so on and so forth. I think this pursuit of justice, defined as Derrida does, is very important. The other thing I will add is that the development of a field that some have called, perhaps temporarily, provisionally “Animal Studies”, is absolutely critical. I think there was a time when Animal Studies would have meant zoology, or in a very focused and direct manner, the pursuit of animal rights. What has been really been exciting for me to observe in this field of animal studies— and it’s not merely a community of scholars and academics; they are artists and performers, who engage in expressive and creative actions, activists who are committed politically, activists who are engaged in their daily lives and daily practices, and also a wide range of scholars in a variety of fields (feminists, literary scholars, historians, historians of ideas, philosophers, and so forth)—there is a certain understanding that “the question of the animal”, as it’s been called, or “of animals” or “of animality”, is not something that is restricted in the end just to the well-being of animals: it affects everybody in fact in ways that are obvious and perhaps less obvious. I think this kind of realization and this kind of community, let’s say, ex-community of people, who are in the field but also outside of their fields but in contact with one another is another way in which, much of what has been established can being critiqued, rethought, unthought, reformulated, toward a viable existence for all forms of life on this earth, and elsewhere. LC: It seems to me that it’s a difficult but important place to be, working in Animal Studies, in these divergent fields. My own experience was coming from Women’s Studies. It’s interesting how you point to these different groups, marginalized groups, and I think that one of the saddest things for me has been also that there’s this incredible moment of optimism, and potential to be thinking about “the animal” in different ways, (and thus us in different ways) but also in those moments of marginalization there has been a scrambling, a push towards a reinforcement of that human subject to say, “Ah, we are just like that, though. We are not like animals.” I think that this is very classic, in terms of an older feminism: liberation is about inclusion into a human culture that is necessarily exclusionary of animals. I think that’s still happening, that while there’s a kind of opening up of what this question means, “the question of the animal”, there’s also a concern, my concern anyway, that a simultaneous reinforcement as marginalized groups fight, using language, using the discourse of rights, etc., to become a part of what they were always excluded from. AML: That’s right. That’s a very difficult situation that traditionally marginalized groups have had to address. When you have been denied very basic civil rights, for example, one of the immediate and legitimate goals of any movement is to make sure that one secures those rights for one’s constituencies, for one’s members, and at the same time to make sure that the pursuit or achievement of that right does not reproduce the exclusion of others that one was fighting against initially. That’s why I think the role of animal rights is so important, because the animal is perhaps the place where life as such has been most excluded in the history of human cultures. And as such it is the place, perhaps, where this rethinking has to begin. There will be all sorts of differences, and all sorts of different objectives and agendas, but when this discussion is practiced rigorously and in good faith, I think ultimately it will be productive. Remember that most of those whom we now think of as the great thinkers were often marginalized in their time; many endured this marginalization, ridicule, hostility. It’s part of the task, and I think one of the comforts we can draw in these situations is that the process is ongoing and one makes a contribution where one can, one engages where one can, and it continues forward hopefully toward some better formulation of life for all beings. LC: Thank you very much. I hope you can join us again on the program sometime. It was really a great honour, and a great pleasure, to speak with you today. AML: It was a great pleasure for me today. And I really appreciate the work you’re doing. The questions were just fantastic. I enjoyed every moment of it. LC: Thank you so much. Today we’ve been speaking with Dr. Akira Mizuta Lippit.

The aim of this study were to find out category shift types used in the translation of novel To Kill A Bird and to describe of how category shift is translated in the novel from English into Indonesian. This study were conducted by using descriptive qualitative method. The data of the study were words, phrases, and clauses in the novel To Kill A Mockingbird which is translated into Indonesian by Femmy Syahrianni. It was found that there were 280 data in the novel from English into Indonesian. The data analysis were taken by listing and bolding. Documentary sheets used as the instrument to collect the data. The data were analyzed based on Miles and Huberman (2014) by condensation which consists of selecting, focusing, simplifying, abstracting and transforming and then data display by using table in order to get easy analyzing the data. The result of this study were (1) there were four types of category shifts found in the novel To Kill a Mockingbird namely; structure shifts (36.78%), class shift (27.14%), unit shift (32.5%) and intra-system shift (3.27%). (2) The process of category shifts in the translation novel by having modifier-head in source language changed into head-modifier in target language, adverb in source language changed into verb in target language, one unit in source language changed into some units in target language. and plural in source language changed into singular in target language. Keyword: Translation shift, structure, class, unit, intra-system shift,novel.

The aim of this study were to find out category shift types used in the translation of novel To Kill A Bird and to describe of how category shift is translated in the novel from English into Indonesian. This study were conducted by using descriptive qualitative method. The data of the study were words, phrases, and clauses in the novel To Kill A Mockingbird which is translated into Indonesian by Femmy Syahrianni. It was found that there were 280 data in the novel from English into Indonesian. The data analysis were taken by listing and bolding. Documentary sheets used as the instrument to collect the data. The data were analyzed based on Miles and Huberman (2014) by condensation which consists of selecting, focusing, simplifying, abstracting and transforming and then data display by using table in order to get easy analyzing the data. The result of this study were (1) there were four types of category shifts found in the novel To Kill a Mockingbird namely; structure shifts (36.78%), class shift (27.14%), unit shift (32.5%) and intra-system shift (3.27%). (2) The process of category shifts in the translation novel by having modifier-head in source language changed into head-modifier in target language, adverb in source language changed into verb in target language, one unit in source language changed into some units in target language. and plural in source language changed into singular in target language. Keyword: Translation shift, structure, class, unit, intra-system shift,novel.

The aim of this study were to find out category shift types used in thetranslation of novel To Kill A Bird and to describe of how category shift is translatedin the novel from English into Indonesian. This study were conducted by usingdescriptive qualitative method. The data of the study were words, phrases, andclauses in the novel To Kill A Mockingbird which is translated into Indonesian byFemmy Syahrianni. It was found that there were 280 data in the novel from Englishinto Indonesian. The data analysis were taken by listing and bolding. Documentarysheets used as the instrument to collect the data. The data were analyzed based onMiles and Huberman (2014) by condensation which consists of selecting, focusing,simplifying, abstracting and transforming and then data display by using table inorder to get easy analyzing the data. The result of this study were (1) there were fourtypes of category shifts found in the novel To Kill a Mockingbird namely; structureshifts (36.78%), class shift (27.14%), unit shift (32.5%) and intra-system shift(3.27%). (2) The process of category shifts in the translation novel by havingmodifier-head in source language changed into head-modifier in target language,adverb in source language changed into verb in target language, one unit in sourcelanguage changed into some units in target language. and plural in source languagechanged into singular in target language.

The aim of this study were to find out category shift types used in the translation of novel To Kill A Bird and to describe of how category shift is translated in the novel from English into Indonesian. This study were conducted by using descriptive qualitative method. The data of the study were words, phrases, and clauses in the novel To Kill A Mockingbird which is translated into Indonesian by Femmy Syahrianni. It was found that there were 280 data in the novel from English into Indonesian. The data analysis were taken by listing and bolding. Documentary sheets used as the instrument to collect the data. The data were analyzed based on Miles and Huberman (2014) by condensation which consists of selecting, focusing, simplifying, abstracting and transforming and then data display by using table in order to get easy analyzing the data. The result of this study were (1) there were four types of category shifts found in the novel To Kill a Mockingbird namely; structure shifts (36.78%), class shift (27.14%), unit shift (32.5%) and intra-system shift (3.27%). (2) The process of category shifts in the translation novel by having modifier-head in source language changed into head-modifier in target language, adverb in source language changed into verb in target language, one unit in source language changed into some units in target language. and plural in source language changed into singular in target language.

Cement has a pivotal role in the construction industry. However, cement is one of the key contributors to global CO2 emission levels. This is due to the energy-intensive nature of cement production processes. This comparative-descriptive study focuses on the potential factors to reduce the CO2 emission level in cement production and the decision-making process of adopting new environmental-friendly technology in production. Particularly, this study compares alternative technologies in cement manufacturing to reduce CO2 emission. It collects both the industry data and the data from Texas, which is the biggest contributor to CO2 emission in the US, to analyze how a shift in production technology could affect CO2 emission and eventually improve the outcomes of environment protection and energy efficiency. This paper projects a possible improvement of implementing the method of preheater-precalciner in cement production in lieu of wet and long-dry process to upgrade kilns and reduce problematic CO2 emission. This study suggests shifting from wet and dry kilns to preheater-precalciner systems to obtain the potential benefits of CO2 emission reduction in the cement industry.

Abstract The Algae Society BioArt Design Lab is a global collective of interdisciplinary researchers working together with algae as non-human international research partners. As a collaborative group of artists, scientists and scholars, they experiment and co-produce with algae, seeking to highlight complex human interdependence and kinship with algal beings. Here they introduce the Algae Society and share a collective collage of their evolving artistic works while reflecting on each researcher's process, materiality, and aesthetic considerations. With these works, they endeavor to shift our perspectives from human-centric exceptionalism to greater appreciation and cultural reframing of our responsibility as participants in multispecies worlding.

In order to mount an appropriate immune response to infection, the macrophage must alter its metabolism by increasing aerobic glycolysis and concomitantly decreasing oxidative phosphorylation; a process known as the Warburg effect. Consequently, lactate, the end-product of glycolysis, accumulates in the extracellular environment. The subsequent effect of lactate on surrounding macrophages is poorly understood. Mycobacterium tuberculosis (Mtb), the causative organism of Tuberculosis (TB), is phagocytosed by macrophages in the airways. Mtb infected macrophages upregulate aerobic glycolysis and effector functions to try to kill the bacteria. Our lab has previously shown that human macrophages produce lactate in response to infection with Mtb. Although lactate has largely been considered a waste product of aerobic glycolysis, we hypothesised that the presence of extracellular lactate would impact subsequent immunometabolic responses and modulate macrophage function. We demonstrate that the presence of exogenous lactate has an immediate effect on the cellular metabolism of resting human macrophages; causing a decrease in extracellular acidification rate (ECAR; analogous to the rate of glycolysis) and an increase in the oxygen consumption rate (OCR; analogous to oxidative phosphorylation). When lactate-treated macrophages were stimulated with Mtb or LPS, glycolysis proceeds to increase immediately upon stimulation but oxidative phosphorylation remains stable compared with untreated cells that display a decrease in OCR. This resulted in a significantly reduced ECAR/OCR ratio early in response to stimulation. Since altered metabolism is intrinsically linked to macrophage function, we examined the effect of lactate on macrophage cytokine production and ability to kill Mtb. Lactate significantly reduced the concentrations of TNF and IL-1β produced by human macrophages in response to Mtb but did not alter IL-10 and IL-6 production. In addition, lactate significantly improved bacillary clearance in human macrophages infected with Mtb, through a mechanism that is, at least in part, mediated by promoting autophagy. These data indicate that lactate, the product of glycolysis, has a negative feedback effect on macrophages resulting in an attenuated glycolytic shift upon subsequent stimulation and reduced pro-inflammatory cytokine production. Interestingly, this pro-resolution effect of lactate is associated with increased capacity to kill Mtb.

ABSTRACT Subsurface environments hold the largest reservoir of microbes in the biosphere. They play essential roles in transforming nutrients, degrading contaminants and recycling organic matter. Here, we propose a previously unrecognised fundamental microbial process that influences aquifer bioremediation dynamics and that applies to all microbial communities. In contrast to previous models, our proposed Piggyback-the-Persistent (PtP) mechanism occurs when viruses become more dominated by those exhibiting temperate rather than lytic lifestyles driven by persistent chemicals (in our case chlorinated-hydrocarbon pollutants) that provide long-term carbon sources and that refocus the aquifer carbon cycle, thus altering the microbial community. In this ultra-oligotrophic system, the virus:microbial ratio (VMR) ranges from below the detection limit of 0.0001 to 0.6, well below the common aquatic range of 3–10. Shortest-average-path network analysis revealed VMR and trichlorethene (TCE) as nodes through which ecosystem information and biomass most efficiently pass. Novel network rearrangement revealed a hierarchy of Kill-the-Winner (KtW), Piggyback-the-Winner (PtW) and PtP nodes. We propose that KtW, PtW and PtP occur simultaneously as competing strategies, with their relative importance depending on conditions at a particular time and location with unusual nutrient sources, such as TCE, appearing to contribute to a shift in this balance between viral mechanisms.

Abstract In non-mammalian synapsids and early mammals, evolutionary transformations in the feeding and hearing apparatuses are posited to have been prerequisites for the radiation of extant mammals. Unlike most vertebrates, including many early synapsids, mammals have precise dental occlusion, a lower jaw composed of one bone, and middle ear ossicles derived from ancestral jaw bones. We illuminate a related functional transition: therian mammals (eutherians and metatherians) evolved anteriorly directed chewing strokes, which are absent in other synapsid lineages. Anteriorly directed jaw movement during occlusion necessitates anteriorly directed muscle force vectors, and we posit that a shift in muscle orientation is reflected in the fossil record by the evolutionary appearance of a posteriorly positioned angular process in cladotherians (therians and their close kin). Anteriorly directed occlusion might have been absent in earlier synapsids because of the presence of attached middle ear elements in the posterior region of the jaw that prohibited the posterior insertion of jaw musculature. These changes to the masticatory apparatus in cladotherians are likely to have permitted the evolution of novel masticatory movements, including grinding in both the anterior and medial directions (e.g. rodents and ungulates, respectively). Thus, this evolutionary transition might have been a crucial prerequisite for the dietary diversification of therians.

Abstract Aggressive bark beetles colonize and kill healthy conifers through pheromone-mediated mass aggregation. In several species, the focal point of aggregation moves progressively from mass-attacked ‘focus trees’ to adjacent, unattacked ‘recipient trees’, resulting in infestation growth. This process, termed ‘switching’, is hypothesized to be mediated in whole or in part by antiaggregation pheromones released by beetles as colonization intensifies on a focus tree. We tested this hypothesis with the southern pine beetle, Dendroctonus frontalis Zimmermann (Coleoptera: Curculionidae: Scolytinae), by using a windvane apparatus that maintained an unbaited, black, cylindrical trap (surrogate for a recipient tree) continuously 4 m downwind from an identical trap baited with synthetic aggregation attractant (surrogate for a focus tree). In two of three replicated trials, addition of pheromone components with antiaggregation activity, endo-brevicomin or verbenone, to the upwind trap caused a significant but small (<15%) increase in the proportion of beetles caught in the downwind trap. In one of two trials with endo-brevicomin, this shift was associated with a significant reduction in catches in the downwind trap and an overall reduction in catches of beetles by the trap pair. This suggests that an inhibitor-induced increase in landings on the recipient relative to the focus tree may be countered by the radial effects of the inhibitor, which at sufficiently high release may reduce responses to both the focus and recipient tree. We discuss spatial factors that might govern the role of antiaggregation pheromones in stimulating infestation growth as well as additional factors that likely govern switching behavior.

Abstract Background In caries, low pH drives selection and enrichment of acidogenic and aciduric bacteria in oral biofilms, and development of acid tolerance in early colonizers is thought to play a key role in this shift. Since previous studies have focussed on planktonic cells, the effect of biofilm growth as well as the role of a salivary pellicle on this process is largely unknown. We explored acid tolerance and acid tolerance response (ATR) induction in biofilm cells of both clinical and laboratory strains of three oral streptococcal species (Streptococcus gordonii, Streptococcus oralis and Streptococcus mutans) as well as two oral species of Actinomyces (A. naeslundii and A. odontolyticus) and examined the role of salivary proteins in acid tolerance development. Methods Biofilms were formed on surfaces in Ibidi® mini flow cells with or without a coating of salivary proteins and acid tolerance assessed by exposing them to a challenge known to kill non-acid tolerant cells (pH 3.5 for 30 min) followed by staining with LIVE/DEAD BacLight and confocal scanning laser microscopy. The ability to induce an ATR was assessed by exposing the biofilms to an adaptation pH (pH 5.5) for 2 hours prior to the low pH challenge. Results Biofilm formation significantly increased acid tolerance in all the clinical streptococcal strains (P < 0.05) whereas the laboratory strains varied in their response. In biofilms, S. oralis was much more acid tolerant than S. gordonii or S. mutans. A. naeslundii showed a significant increase in acid tolerance in biofilms compared to planktonic cells (P < 0.001) which was not seen for A. odontolyticus. All strains except S. oralis induced an ATR after pre-exposure to pH 5.5 (P < 0.05). The presence of a salivary pellicle enhanced both acid tolerance development and ATR induction in S. gordonii biofilms (P < 0.05) but did not affect the other bacteria to the same extent. Conclusions These findings suggest that factors such as surface contact, the presence of a salivary pellicle and sensing of environmental pH can contribute to the development of high levels of acid tolerance amongst early colonizers in oral biofilms which may be important in the initiation of caries.

Abstract Background Based on the case of palliative care and euthanasia in the Netherlands, this paper presents an analysis of frames and counter-frames used in the ongoing public debate about these two intertwined topics. Each (counter)frame presents a cultural theme that can act as a prism to give meaning to palliative care and/or euthanasia. Each frame comprehends a different problem definition, consequences and policy options. Typical word choices and metaphors are identified that can evoke these frames and the underlying reasoning. The frames do not belong to a specific stakeholder but a pattern can be seen in their use that is related to interests and ideology. Methods An inductive framing analysis was conducted of 2,700 text fragments taken from various Dutch newspapers, websites of stakeholders and policy documents in the period 2016–2018. After an extensive process of thematic coding, axial coding, selective coding and peer review seven frames and seven counter-frames about palliative care and euthanasia were constructed. Fifteen experts in the field of palliative and/or end-of-life care commented on the overview during a member check. Results Two frames about palliative care were constructed: the Fear of death frame, which stresses the hopeless ‘terminality’ of palliative care and the Heavy burden frame, in which palliative care is too big a responsibility for the relatives of the patient. In addition, two counter-frames were constructed: palliative care as a contributor to Quality of life and Completion. With regard to euthanasia, five frames were identified that lead to a problematising definition: Thou shalt not kill, Slippery slope, Lack of willpower, I am not God, and Medical progress. Five counter-frames offer a non-problematising definition of euthanasia in the debate: Mercy, Prevention, Triumph of reason, Absolute autonomy, and Economic utility thinking. Conclusions The debate in the Netherlands on euthanasia and palliative care is characterized by a plurality of angles that goes beyond the bipolar distinction between the pros and cons of euthanasia and palliative care. Only with an overview of all potential frames in mind can an audience truly make informed decisions. The frame matrix is not only useful for policy makers to know all perspectives when joining public debate, but also to health care workers to get into meaningful conversations with their patients and families.

The call for papers for this volume of M/C Journal provoked an impressive number of responses. The bulk of those responses took issue with the implication within the call for papers that print culture is in some way under threat, or is in danger of being superseded by digital forms. It is axiomatic that the advent of any new technology is accompanied by obituary notices for an older, pre-existing technology. The radio was seen as a threat to books and literacy in the 1920s, and, similarly, in the 1950s the popularity of television in the home was expected to mean the end of cinemas and the movie business. These same debates were rehearsed in the 1980s, when it was the VCR’s turn to try to kill off the cinema, but twenty years later, the cinema still survives and makes more money than ever. The VCR did not kill the cinema, but it is apparent that the DVD will kill the VCR. Is print destined to be supplanted by digital technology? The essays in this volume suggest not, although for different reasons. The dominant theme to come through this collection is that print and print culture are undergoing a process of change. Part of this process of change is attributable to the rise of digitisation, but this is not the whole reason. Some of the contributors here took issue with the meaning of the word print itself. Robert Watson, for instance, discusses the history of the word print and the different contexts in which it is used, such as the means by which knowledges are ‘imprinted’ in animal brains. Watson’s discussion then turns to the artifact of the cinema print of Muriel’s Wedding in the ways in which the various forms of print manifest themselves in the experience of watching that film. The feature article for this issue, Bethany Turner’s analysis of the communication strategies of the Zapatistas, demonstrates the marriage of the romanticised vision of the Zapatistas as Internet guerrillas, holed up in inaccessible regions with no more than a laptop and a mobile phone, spreading their message of revolution in a ‘netwar’ against the Mexican regime. Turner argues, however, that underpinning this romantic notion is an old, narrative-based tradition, of story, allegory, and magic realism. Certainly, the Zapatistas’ communiqués do appear in digital form, but not before they have been transmitted through traditional oral and printed networks. The digital realm here is a supplement to the printed form, not its usurper. Steven Maras investigates Waler Ong’s work on Ramus, specifically Ong’s thesis that the Ramus dialectic reconfigured the world (and thought itself) in terms of that which can be apprehended by sight in a set of spatial and geometric figures. Maras shows that Ramus remains with us in the format of the printed page, but at the same time never before has the technology to manipulate that page been so complex, yet paradoxically, so accessible. Pedagogy still inhabits Ramusian space, viewing the realm beyond the borders of the printed text as a “no-go” area, a forbidden zone into which only the boldest would venture. Vicky Liu’s paper on Seal Culture tackles the question of authenticity in electronic commerce. Written signatures are, as Derrida demonstrates, at once unique and infinitely reproducible. Traditional seals derive their authenticity from the imprint of the sealer; the challenge for electronic commerce is to devise a similar system to validate digital information. Using the Chinese seal culture as an example, Liu describes the visualised digital signature scheme that simulates the physical form of the seal in electronic environments. This again is an instance of how the non-print world borrows from and adapts physical objects of print culture. The nation of the unique producer of printed work is also a feature of Dougal Phillips and Oliver Watts’s paper on copyright. “Copyright” has its origins in interdictions against a work being re-printed without the approval of (and payment to) the author. Phillips and Watts contend that the current system of copyright operates within an inherently capitalist discourse, in which notions of ownership are tied to remuneration for intellection property. They argue that current efforts to protect copyright are motivated by the interests of large corporations that have vested interests in preventing file-sharing and hacking of the encryption codes on DVDs. What, they ask, would it mean to return to gift economy for cultural products that pre-dates copyright, one in which the author’s remuneration comes only in the form of celebrity or reputation for innovation? Those last-ditch defenders of print culture are the subject of Juri Joensuu’s “Intimate Technology”. Joensuu examines the tropes that are used when defending print culture, particularly how reading is figured rhetorically. Joensuu rightly points out that cultural shifts are not discrete, but tend to overlap: oral culture is still with after 500 years of moveable type; print and digital forms currently exist side-by-side. Joensuu highlights the way in which the physicality of reading is an underlying feature of arguments that defend print culture: the book is a sensual object in a way that the digital object can never be; digital print draws attention to its means of its production in a manner that only the most elaborate, poorly produced, or eccentric books do. The final two articles look forward to what Scott Lukas calls the ‘newprint’ era. Phillip Roe’s “Dimensions of Print” points out that the human subject is constructed as being “in front of” the object of study, whether that object is a physical book or a computer screen. Both are technologies for the reproduction of print. Roe speculates on the arrival of the post-print, a shift in the construction of human subjectivity that will pose difficulties for the print subject it will replace. Finally, Scott Lukas reads contemporary print culture through his formulation of “newprint”. This formulation hearkens back to Phillips and Watts’s article, in that Lukas sees newprint as extending the state’s propaganda industry by changing the written word into what he calls “artifice”. Lukas argues that newprint can lead to the diluting of the voice of the writer as well as, on a wider level, the fracturing of community. He illustrates how communicative acts are changing with a personal example of his own, an example that is increasingly common, yet still surprising. We hope that you will enjoy this issue of M/C Journal, and find much to consider within its articles. Like Scott Lukas, we are delighted to welcome you to (new) print! Glen Thomas & Jaz Choi ‘print’ issue editors Citation reference for this article MLA Style Thomas, Glen, and Jaz Choi. "Print." M/C Journal 8.2 (2005). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0506/00-editorial.php>. APA Style Thomas, G., and J. Choi. (Jun. 2005) "Print," M/C Journal, 8(2). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0506/00-editorial.php>.

The Resident Evil video game series is especially notable for engaging with uncanny nature and monstrous reproduction, often facilitated through viral contamination. These third-person games usually feature an outbreak of some kind, instigated by a shadowy organisation, and star a member of law enforcement or the military as the protagonist. However, the seventh and eighth games of the franchise were different. While they explored many of the same themes and conventions as their predecessors, the technologies by which they evoked fear and suspense had become further immersed in the survival horror genre and ecoGothic affect. Survival horror video games, which often exploit anxieties surrounding uncanny motherhood to produce feelings of dread, use the processes and spectacle of reproduction, gestation, and childbirth as the locus of player fear. The ecoGothic, that is the non-human ecology rendered uncanny, monstrous, and sublime, permeates survival horror spaces and has the potential to empower these malevolent matriarchs. In Resident Evil 7: Biohazard (Nakanishi) and Resident Evil VIII: Village (Sato), player-protagonist Ethan Winters is under constant attack from female antagonists. From unexpected onslaughts from his rapidly transforming wife Mia at the beginning of Resident Evil 7: Biohazard, to his heart being wrenched from his body by the overarching villain Mother Miranda in Resident Evil VIII: Village, Ethan’s life is under constant threat from women and girls infected by a parasitic fungus. These monstrous females, through their corporeal forms and means of control, blur the boundaries between the human and the non-human. Furthermore, they represent the perceived degradation of the human form and delegitimisation of man's dominion over nature. These women—who have merged with the non-human ecosystem—have become creatures that challenge our conception of what it is to be human. It is this intersection of ecophobia and the perceived transgression of gender roles that make up the anatomy of the female and non-cis-masculine presenting videoludic monster. Using Resident Evil 7: Biohazard and Resident Evil VIII: Village as my primary examples, in this article I unpack the implications of these fungus-infested women, and explore how family and trauma play a role in their narratives. EcoGothic Origins In defining the ecoGothic it is important to acknowledge its origins as a response to the idealised ecologies of the nature writing of the Romantic period (Smith and Hughes 2). Rather than sweeping through the green pastoral valleys of the Romantic novel, the ecoGothic lurks in the shadows of labyrinthine forests and stands awestruck before sublime wonders. The ecoGothic shatters the illusion of human control, confronting the audience with their fears and anxieties. The ecoGothic monsters of Resident Evil 7: Biohazard (referred to here as Resident Evil 7) and Resident Evil VIII: Village (referred to here as Village) represent deep-seated anxieties about the boundaries between the human and the non-human. Whilst Gothic narratives have traditionally expressed fears about the loss of control to nature, Estok notes that this loss of control is a real and present threat in the environmental crisis of the Anthropocene (Estok 29), lending these modern ecoGothic monsters additional relevance and potency. The ecoGothic challenges human corporeality through transformation, hybridity, and invasion, destabilising our ideas of the human as separate from, and superior to, the greater ecology. It is vital to interrogate assumptions associated with the false dichotomy between humans and nature to demonstrate the anxieties at play within these manifestations of female eco-monstrosity. As Tidwell notes, ecohorror narratives are “fundamentally predicated upon a relationship between humanity and nature that does not allow for their interconnectedness” (539). These games, through the compromised, infected form of the protagonist, problematise the dichotomy between the good of humanity and the evil of the non-human. However, they still weaponise anxieties about human specificity and depict hybridity as monstrous and unstable. The patriarchal fear of transgressive female power is similarly weaponised through the female antagonists. These monstrous female antagonists are used to police boundaries of acceptable womanhood and their fates demonstrate the dangers of transgressing those boundaries. Through an ecofeminist lens we can examine the interplay between anxieties surrounding gender and anxieties surrounding the wildness and unpredictability of the ecology. As the intersection between ecocriticism, which is interested in the interconnectedness of ecologies, and feminism, which is interested in the “social analysis” of power structures and systems of domination (Carr 160), ecofeminism allows us to analyse the subjugation, exploitation, and demonisation of the feminine and the broader ecology. Part of what makes a female monster so threatening is that she transgresses two societal modes of categorisation. She is a predator rather than prey, no longer fitting the submissive female archetype, and she has become a hybrid form closely associated with the animal. Krzywinska highlights the role of this altered power relationship as being a potent manifestation of the Gothic in video games (33). This common expression of transgressive and monstrous female power draws on the traditional role of the Gothic in facilitating the male experience of fear and vulnerability with impunity (Krzywinska 33). Resident Evil as a video game series has an inconsistent history of depicting women and female-presenting entities, both antagonists and protagonists alike. MacCallum-Stewart asserts that the series’ shift towards more problematic and monstrous female representation coincides with a move from action-adventure to survival horror (170). The series has long been preoccupied with monstrous inheritance and legacy, but Resident Evil 7 and Village represent a new move towards female villains, abandoning patriarchal dynasties like the Weskers. The female ecoGothic monsters of Resident Evil 7 and Village transgress gender and species norms, signifying a move further into the ecoGothic realm of the uncanny. The Technology of Ecohorror The Resident Evil series uses science fiction conventions to explain the mystery that lies at the centre of its horrific spectacles. Despite the distinctly ecoGothic affect of Resident Evil 7 and Village, the ’scientific’ explanation provided in-game for these supernatural occurrences is a mutated fungus with psychotropic and self-replicating properties. The Cadou (Romanian for “gift”) is a fictional fungus developed from a fungal root under the village, and altered to create bioweapons by a shadowy organisation, The Connections. Known as the megamycete in the English script (not used in the Japanese script), the fungus has various effects including controlling its host, retaining and replicating genetic information, and rapid growths capable of focussed movement. A second fungal root was established in Louisiana, under the Baker House of Resident Evil 7. As a locus of human anxiety, fungal bodies are inherently unstable and defy characterisation, thus queering ideas of the corporeal body (Bishop et al. 220). Bishop posits that in the human consciousness fungus is closely linked to the animal as they live on “dead or decomposing matter”. Some fungal species reproduce asexually “through the release of spores that produces new organisms that are genetically identical to the parent organism” (Bishop et al. 204). This asexual reproduction means that fictional fungal bodies are representative of a reproductive process that runs contrary to the human-sanctioned sexual reproduction and established gendered power dynamics. Reproduction through tiny spores allows the site of reproduction to go undetected, opening the possibility within the human imagination for the invasion and violation of the human form. Bishop also notes that fungal bodies “are hardly contained organisms; they form complex systems of mycorrhizae, symbiotic underground relationships with other fungal and vegetal life” (Bishop et al. 204). It is this resistance to categorisation is an emergent theme as we define the parameters of these female eco-monsters. Whilst the fungal properties of the Cadou are behind the malevolent forces at work within Resident Evil 7 and Village, the mould and associated slime are a looming presence in the bulk of the gameplay. It clings to the walls in the Baker house and lurks in the shadows of the Village. It exists within the interior and exterior of the human body, threatening to control, corrupt, and engulf. The invasive presence of the mould in the Old House places the phenomenon firmly in the domestic sphere, in the space to which the matriarch of the family, Marguerite, is bound (McGreevy et al. 254). Hurley notes that slime “constitutes a threat to the integrity of the human subject” (35), due to its lack of fixed identity and form. Slime represents a challenge to the human understanding of the body as a closed system that is impenetrable and self-contained. Estok posits that slime’s resistance to categorisation and refusal to fit within male delineated boundaries creates an association with the feminine (33). Slime is unstable and resists control, making it a culturally pervasive expression of fears about the loss of established systems of power that reinforce sexism and misogyny (Estok 31). This theory of the gendered significance of slime brings new meaning to use of the mould and slime forms of the Cadou for the purposes of unnatural reproduction and the exercising of psychological control. The abhuman, or not-quite-human (Hurley 3), spectacles of Resident Evil’s Cadou infected antagonists are able to be at once tragic and disposable. While the player is required to kill vast hordes of amorphous “molded”, emaciated “thralls” and degenerated “lycans”, the humanoid bosses or key antagonists complicate human claims to exceptionalism and specificity. Tidwell notes that “this breakdown of the animacy hierarchy and of separations between human and nonhuman emphasizes materiality itself and de-emphasizes consciousness or sentience” (546). It is implied that we are to think of the zombie-like hordes of non-player combatants as non-sentient, as under the complete control of the non-human, therefore entirely expendable. This othering of non-player combatant is a staple of the survival horror genre as it offers monstrosity as both motive and mitigation. As Perron notes, the monsters of videoludic horror are constructed from “mundane” player anxieties, allowing the player to kill that which they fear (11). The Scientist and the ‘Broodmother’ The dangerous potential of the grieving mother is demonstrated in the actions of Mother Miranda, whose loss of her daughter Eva serves as the catalyst for the Cadou narrative arc of Resident Evil 7 and Village. Miranda, through her experimentation with the mould and her pathological determination to resurrect her child, becomes a monstrous maternal spectacle. Miranda forces both children and adults to become infantilised, deferential hosts to the Cadou, attempting to create a “vessel” to carry her daughter’s DNA and consciousness. As Paxton notes, such monstrous and destructive maternal behaviour is “pathologized as unnatural and identified as the seamy underside of woman’s nature” (170). This depiction of unnatural maternal behaviour is compounded by her means of reproduction and the multitudes of “children” she has produced. Stang notes that “the monster polices the borders of what is permissible” and Miranda’s status as the “Broodmother”, through her complex combination of asexual reproduction and infection, represents transgressions of those borders that circumvent patriarchal processes (235). Killing Miranda is the culmination of a two-game arc that requires the player-character to kill her “false children”. The similarities between the unnatural birth of Frankenstein’s creature and the unnatural birth of Miranda’s children are significant. Facilitated by science and societal transgression, they are constructed from death and ultimately result in parental rejection. Miranda cements her status as the monstrous mother by revealing that the player has been doing her bidding in killing her children: "you've fulfilled your purpose, Mr. Winters. You disposed of my false children and awakened the glorious Megamycete” (Sato). In creating these “children” and then casting them aside, Mother Miranda fashions a hierarchy of hybrid entities, desperate for her approval and under her thrall due to the controlling properties of the Cadou. The player-character’s mission to kill Miranda as the monstrous maternal figure expresses a “revulsion and fear towards female fecundity” and a “potent fear” of “female reproduction without male input” (Stang 238). The damage perpetuated by Miranda’s unnatural motherhood is far reaching, with one of her “failed vessels”, Eveline, becoming the source of the Louisiana Cadou infestation from Resident Evil 7. Eveline was originally created as a bioweapon (or B.O.W.) using the DNA of Miranda’s dead daughter and a sample of the Cadou mould. Manifesting as a ten-year old girl, Eveline has an insatiable drive to create a family which motivates her manipulation and infection of the Bakers, Mia, and the play-character Ethan. "I don't want to live at the lab anymore. I want a house. And I want you to be my mommy" says Eveline to Mia (Nakanishi). Eveline’s ability to reproduce and infect is even more monstrous and abject than that of her “Broodmother” as she is ostensibly a young girl. Her status as an uncanny, abhuman “mother” is not a means of empowerment and comes at a tremendous cost. As Stang writes the ecoGothic mother’s reproductive power “is often the result of infection, contamination, or mutation and causes abject transformations, madness, and, eventually, death at the hands of the protagonist” (238). Therefore, with each one of these abject mothers Ethan kills he is completing the patriarchal narrative of the dangers of unnatural reproduction and matriarchal power structures. The Abhuman Mother Resident Evil 7 antagonist Marguerite Baker is already a mother when the Cadou, brought into her home by Eveline, establishes fungal growths on her brain. She and Jack take in Eveline and Mia out of a genuine human concern and compassion which has completely disappeared by the time Ethan arrives in the home. Soon Eveline’s drive for a family kicks in and she begins to insidiously control the Bakers, worming her way into their psyche and infecting them with the mould. From this point on Marguerite begins to mutate into a maternal monster, referring to spiders and insects as her babies. Not only does her nurturing begin to transgress species, but she begins to feed her human family human flesh, creating grotesque parodies of the nurturing and nourishing mother: "I'll feed you to my babies and fertilize the garden with what was left" Marguerite to Ethan (Nakanishi). As Marguerite begins her homicidal pursuit of Ethan, the ecohorror of her monstrous body is revealed. She transforms becoming progressively less human. Her “monster” form, with its elongated limbs and mutated vulva, becomes more closely aligned with a female arthropod or arachnid. McGreevy et al notes that “Marguerite’s transformation mirrors the impact of mycoestrogens, such as zearalenone, which the body treats as a high dose of estrogen … . The infection thus amplifies feminine traits to a dangerous level, as the female body is abject: horrific and alluring” (261). The insects that are birthed from her genitals have an intrinsic association with death and decomposition, playing a key role in the process of disarticulating the human form (Shelomi 31). From this association we might infer that the fear and disgust the player feels at Marguerite’s association with insects and her mutated arachnid form goes beyond anxieties of ambiguity between the human and the non-human. The Eastern European castle and snow-capped peaks of Village offer a different type of female monstrosity to that found on the bayou in Louisiana. Whilst not a vampire through the traditional transmission mode of Dracula and his ilk, Alcina Dimitrescu’s vampirism is necessitated by an inherited blood condition and invites discussion of matriarchal lines of reproduction. The inhabitants of the Castle Dimitrescu play into the same ecoGothic conventions as that have been employed in female vampire narratives. These narratives play into anxieties about unnatural reproduction, in this case reproduction without the men or masculine forces. Paxton in their exploration of Le Fanu’s Carmilla draws connections between female vampirism and parasitic ichneumon wasps, resonating with the depiction of Cadou infestation in Resident Evil (170). Like fungus vampirism is depicted as parasitic and a disruption to the patriarchal lineage through its potential for asexual reproduction. Not unlike the structure of infection, psychic control, and reproduction that we see in vampire fiction, Mother Miranda operates as matriarchal head of an expansive hivemind that mimics a family like structure. Alcina Dimitrescu is a sexualised spectacle whose rejection and suspicion of men reinforces her role as a transgressive woman. Alcina and her daughters determine the fates of their victims by gender, with men being consumed and women being enslaved and drained of blood for the production of wine. She further transgresses normative expectations of the mother through the animalism associated with vampirism (Paxton 178) and her stature. She is an imposing nine feet tall with rapidly growing claws due to the effects of the Cadou, making her difficult to dominate through brute strength. Further compounding her threat to patriarchal power structures, she explicitly expresses hatred for men during her attacks. Her voice lines demonstrate a powerful drive to protect her daughters from patriarchal power and masculine violence: “You ungrateful, selfish wretch! You come into MY house—You lay your filthy man-hands on MY daughters”—Alcina Dimetrescu to Ethan (Sato). Depicted as a beautiful, elegant lady, the vampiric body of Alcina Dimitrescu, transforms into a grotesque dragon-like creature, providing visual confirmation of her underlying status as non-human. The abhuman as the covert and deceptive non-human monstrosity plays into her late-stage transformation reinforces her disconnect from the human, legitimising her death. Mother Miranda’s daughter Donna Beneviento poses a deeper psychological threat to the player, stepping further away from the action-adventure genre with which Resident Evil has previously been associated. Like Marguerite, her house manifests her psychological state, reflecting her trauma and implied mental illness. This trauma manifests externally, turning the Beneviento mansion into an extension of her psychic agency. She achieves this through the use of secreted fungal hallucinogens activated by pollen allowing her to manifest and prey on the anxieties of her victims. Donna Beneviento’s relationship to her Cadou infested and their uncanny animation echoes the unnatural reproduction of Mother Miranda. Throughout the Beneviento mansion motifs of parenthood and childbirth play out in increasingly grotesque forms, culminating in a giant foetus monster emerging from the shadows, wailing and giggling. Donna Beneviento is playing with Ethan expressing her status as child, despite the reality of her adulthood. Donna is infantilised, crafting dolls in an expression her loneliness and desire for family in a manner similar to Eveline’s misguided attempts to construct a family. The Sanctioned Mother and the Good Daughter The counterpoint to these spectacles of female monstrosity are female characters who manage to maintain the appearance of human specificity and adherence to societal norms. Marguerite’s daughter Zoe remains relatively unaffected by the Cadou and retains her humanity, aligning herself with the player-character. She is the good daughter, the sanctioned and acceptable human daughter. Ethan’s wife Mia is intermittently affected by the same fungal infestation as Marguerite, yet her initial monstrous manifestation and frenzied chainsaw attack on Ethan at the beginning of the game is all but forgotten through her subsequent ability to maintain the appearance of human specificity. By the beginning of Village Mia is depicted as an ideal picture of rehabilitated motherhood and femininity. Positioning herself as the “good” in the good/bad mother dichotomy, she is cooking, wearing soft fabrics and colours, and is nurturing her baby (Digioia 15-16). But this figure of the socially sanctioned mother has been replaced by the “bad” Mother Miranda. This raises further questions about the illusory and performative qualities of maternal affection in the Resident Evil series. After being kidnapped, Ethan’s baby Rose is dissected into four parts and given to four main antagonists of Village. It is only through her integration with the Cadou and the resurrection procedure of Mother Miranda that she is revived. Rose’s resurrection is an obscured and noncorporeal affair, unlike the resurrection of Alcina Dimatrescu’s daughters Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra, which is documented in scientific detail. As a discarded “Insect observation journal” notes, their corpses became covered in carnivorous insects that “vigorously consume meat”, morphing and mutating to recreate their resurrected human forms (Sato). The visceral descriptions of this process and their subsequent ability to control hordes of insects are reminiscent Marguerite’s monster form. Like Mia and Zoe, Rose’s acceptability and status as the good daughter is predicated on her ability to adhere to societal norms and patriarchal categorisations. Conclusion In depicting female antagonists as ecoGothic monstrosities, Resident Evil 7: Biohazard and Resident Evil VIII: Village position the player character in vain defence of human specificity and supremacy. It is telling that, as a figure who has been unknowingly infected with the Cadou, Ethan Winters has already lost the battle against the parasitic invasion of his own corporeal form. By tapping into ecophobic anxieties about fungus and slime that defy categorisation, Resident Evil is able to challenge the player’s human specificity and agency. This lack of specificity and agency is only accentuated by the monstrous and transgressive presence of the unnatural mother and the dangerous female. It is this loss of control and vulnerability that is common to both the ecoGothic and the survival horror genre. By contrasting examples of the monstrous feminine with sanctioned feminine figures like Mia, Rose, and Zoe, Resident Evil 7: BioHazard and Resident Evil VIII: Village establish policeable boundaries for female behaviour and a means of justifying the killing of abhuman bodies. While the powerful monstrous female antagonists of the games are able to exert a phenomenal amount of agency when compared to their monstrous peers, their construction still plays into destructive misogynist and ecophobic ideas of the female and the non-human world. References Bishop, Katherine E., David Higgins, and Jerry Määttä. Plants in Science Fiction: Speculative Vegetation. Cardiff: U of Wales P, 2020. Carr, Emily. “The Riddle Was the Angel in the House: Towards an American Ecofeminist Gothic.” Ecogothic. Eds. Andrew Smith and William Hughes. United Kingdom: Manchester UP, 2016. 160-176. DiGioia, Amanda. Childbirth and Parenting in Horror Texts : The Marginalized and the Monstrous. Bingley: Emerald, 2017. Estok, Simon C. “Corporeality, Hyper-Consciousness, and the Anthropocene ecoGothic: Slime and Ecophobia”. Neohelicon 1 (2020). 27 Aug. 2021 <https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s11059-020-00519-0>. Hurley, Kelly. The Gothic Body: Sexuality, Materialism, and Degeneration at the Fin de Siècle. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2004. Krzywinska, Tanya. “The Gamification of Gothic Coordinates”. Revenant: Critical and Creative Studies of the Supernatural 1 (2015). 26 Aug. 2021 <http://www.revenantjournal.com/contents/the-gamification-of-gothic-coordinates-in-videogames/>. McGreevy, Alan, Christina Fawcett, and Marc A. Ouellette. “The House and the Infected Body: The Metonomy of Resident Evil 7.” 2020. 28 Aug. 2021 <https://digitalcommons.odu.edu/english_fac_pubs/155/>. Paxton, Amanda. “Mothering by Other Means: Parasitism and J. Sheridan Le Fanu’s Carmilla”. ISLE: Interdisciplinary Studies in Literature and Environment 1 (2021). 2 Aug. 2021 <https://doi-org.ezproxy-f.deakin.edu.au/10.1093/isle/isz119>. Perron, Bernard. The World of Scary Video Games: A Study in Videoludic Horror. Bloomsbury Publishing, 2018. Resident Evil 7: Biohazard. Dev. Koshi Nakanishi. Capcom 2017. Resident Evil Village. Dev. Morimasa Sato. Capcom, 2021. Shelomi, Matan. “Entomoludology: Arthropods in Video Games”. American Entomologist 2 (2019). 28 Aug. 2021 <https://doi.org/10.1093/ae/tmz028>. Smith, Andrew, and William Hughes. Introduction. In EcoGothic. Manchester University Press, 2015. Stang, Sarah. “The Broodmother as Monstrous – Feminine – Abject Maternity in Video Games.” 42 (2019). 28 Aug. 2021 <https://doi.org/10.7557/13.5014>. Tidwell, Christy. “Monstrous Natures Within: Posthuman and New Materialist Ecohorror in Mira Grant’s ‘Parasite’.” ISLE: Interdisciplinary Studies in Literature and Environment 3 (2014). 27 Aug. 2021 <https://www.jstor.org/stable/26430361>.

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. No less than having a body is coextensive with being human, so too is dying, with the consequence that investigating the intersection of both areas is likely to reveal insights into issues of universal cultural concern. For this reason, we advocate the study of mortuary practices as an evolving record of how various cultures understand human corporeality by way of external objects.ReferencesAdorno, Theodor W. Metaphysics: Concept and Problems. Trans. Rolf Tiedemann. Stanford: Stanford UP, 2002.Atran, Scott. In Gods We Trust: The Evolutionary Landscape of Religion. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2002.Barrett, John C. “The Living, the Dead and the Ancestors: Neolithic and Bronze Age Mortuary Practices.” The Archaeology of Context in the Neolithic and Bronze Age: Recent Trends. Eds. John. C. Barrett and Ian. A. Kinnes. University of Sheffield: Department of Archaeology and Prehistory, 1988. 30-41.Barrett, Justin, and Frank Keil. “Conceptualizing a Nonnatural Entity: Anthropomorphism in God Concepts.” Cognitive Psychology 31.3 (1996): 219–47.Barrett, Justin, and Emily Reed. “The Cognitive Science of Religion.” The Psychologist 24.4 (2011): 252–255.Bettencourt, Ana. “Life and Death in the Bronze Age of the NW of the Iberian Peninsula.” The Materiality of Death: Bodies, Burials, Beliefs. Eds. Fredrik Fahlanderand and Terje Osstedaard. Oxford: Archaeopress, 2008. 99-105.Boyer, Pascal. “Cognitive Tracks of Cultural Inheritance: How Evolved Intuitive Ontology Governs Cultural Transmission.” American Anthropologist 100.4 (1999): 876–889.Bradley, Richard. The Prehistory of Britain and Ireland. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2007.Brück, Joanna. “Material Metaphors: The Relational Construction of Identity in Bronze Age Burials in Ireland and Britain” Journal of Social Archaeology 4(3) (2004): 307-333.———. “Death, Exchange and Reproduction in the British Bronze Age.” European Journal of Archaeology 9.1 (2006): 73–101.Carney, James. “Narrative and Ontology in Hesiod’s Homeric Hymn to Demeter: A Catastrophist Approach.” Semiotica 167.1 (2007): 337–368.Cooney, Gabriel, and Eoin Grogan. Irish Prehistory: A Social Perspective. Dublin: Wordwell, 1999.Cosmopoulos, Michael B. “Mycenean Religion at Eleusis: The Architecture and Stratigraphy of Megaron B.” Greek Mysteries: The Archaeology and Ritual of Ancient Greek Secret Cults. Ed. Michael B. Cosmopoulos. London: Routledge, 2003. 1–24.Davies, Jon. Death, Burial, and Rebirth in the Religions of Antiquity. London: Psychology Press, 1999.De Becdelievre, Camille, Sandrine Thiol, and Frédéric Santos. “From Fire-Induced Alterations on Human Bones to the Original Circumstances of the Fire: An Integrated Approach of Human Remains Drawn from a Neolithic Collective Burial”. Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports 4 (2015) 210–225.Fauconnier, Gilles, and Mark Turner. The Way We Think: Conceptual Blending and the Mind’s Hidden Complexities. New York: Basic Books, 2002.Ferguson, Everett. Backgrounds of Early Christianity. Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing, 2003.Frazer, James. The Golden Bough: A Study in Magic and Religion. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1998.Gejvall, Nils. "Cremations." Science and Archaeology: A Survey of Progress and Research. Eds. Don Brothwell and Eric Higgs. London: Thames and Hudson, 1969. 468-479.Grosz, Elizabeth. Volatile Bodies: Toward a Corporeal Feminism. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1994.Henry, Michel. I Am the Truth: Toward a Philosophy of Christianity. Trans. Susan Emanuel. Stanford: Stanford UP, 2003.Kerényi, Karl. “Kore.” The Science of Mythology. Trans. Richard F.C. Hull. London: Routledge, 1985. 119–183.Laqueur, Thomas. Making Sex: Body and Gender from the Greeks to Freud. Cambridge MA: Harvard UP, 1990.McCarthy, Margaret. “2003:0195 - Castlehyde, Co. Cork.” Excavations.ie. The Department of Arts, Heritage and the Gaeltacht, 4 July 2003. 12 Jan. 2016 <http://www.excavations.ie/report/2003/Cork/0009503/>.McCauley, Robert N., and E. Thomas Lawson. Bringing Ritual to Mind: Psychological Foundations of Cultural Forms. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2002.Merleau-Ponty, Maurice. Phenomenology of Perception. Trans: Colin Smith. London: Routledge, 2002.Morris, Ian. Death Ritual and Social Structure in Classical Antiquity. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1992.Musgrove, Jonathan. “Dust and Damn'd Oblivion: A Study of Cremation in Ancient Greece.” The Annual of the British School at Athens 85 (1990), 271-299.Mylonas, George. “Burial Customs.” A Companion to Homer. Eds. Alan Wace and Frank. H. Stubbings. London: Macmillan, 1962. 478-488.Nock, Arthur. D. “Hellenistic Mysteries and Christian Sacraments.” Mnemosyne 1 (1952): 177–213.Rebay-Salisbury, Katherina. "Cremations: Fragmented Bodies in the Bronze and Iron Ages." Body Parts and Bodies Whole: Changing Relations and Meanings. Eds. Katherina Rebay-Salisbury, Marie. L. S. Sørensen, and Jessica Hughes. Oxford: Oxbow, 2010. 64-71.———. “Inhumation and Cremation: How Burial Practices Are Linked to Beliefs.” Embodied Knowledge: Historical Perspectives on Technology and Belief. Eds Marie. L.S. Sørensen and Katherina Rebay-Salisbury. Oxford: Oxbow, 2012. 15-26.Shilling, Chris. The Body and Social Theory. Nottingham: SAGE, 2012.Smith, Julia M.H. “Portable Christianity: Relics in the Medieval West (c.700–1200).” Proceedings of the British Academy 181 (2012): 143–167.Sofaer, Joanna R. The Body as Material Culture: A Theoretical Osteoarchaeology. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2006.Sørensen, Marie L.S., and Katharina Rebay-Salisbury. “From Substantial Bodies to the Substance of Bodies: Analysis of the Transition from Inhumation to Cremation during the Middle Bronze Age in Europe.” Past Bodies: Body-Centered Research in Archaeology. Eds. Dušan Broić and John Robb. Oxford: Oxbow Books, 2008. 59–68.Sowa, Cora Angier. Traditional Themes and the Homeric Hymns. Wauconda, IL: Bolchazy-Carducci Publishers, 1984.Toynbee, Jocelyn M.C. Death and Burial in the Roman World. London: Thames and Hudson, 1971.Waddell, John. The Bronze Age Burials of Ireland. Galway: Galway UP, 1990.———. The Prehistoric Archaeology of Ireland. Galway: Galway UP, 2005.Walker, Philip L., Kevin W.P. Miller, and Rebecca Richman. “Time, Temperature, and Oxygen Availability: An Experimental Study of the Effects of Environmental Conditions on the Colour and Organic Content of Cremated Bone.” The Analysis of Burned Human Remains. Eds. Christopher W. Schmidt and Steven A. Symes. London: Academic Press, 2008. 129–135.Whitehouse, Harvey. Arguments and Icons: Divergent Modes of Religiosity. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2000.Woodman Peter. “Prehistoric Settlements and Environment.” The Quaternary History of Ireland. Eds. Kevin J. Edwards and William P. Warren. London: Academic Press, 1985. 251-278.Yeats, William Butler. “Easter 1916.” W.B. Yeats: The Major Works. Ed. Edward Larrissey. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1997. 85–87.

Previous studies contend that Philippines is still a ‘collectivist’ society (Cf. Hofstede Center; Cukur et al. 2004:613-634). In this collectivist or community-oriented society, individualism is not something that is highly valued. Being ‘individualistic’ is often associated to being narcissistic, loner, asocial, selfish, etc. However, one may ask whether the youth in the Philippines are not spared from this insidious culture of individualism, notwithstanding the seemingly dominant collective and communitarian character of the society. Although the overwhelming poverty is still the main problem in the Philippines, where according to Wostyn (2010:26) “only the wonderland of movies gives some respite to their consciousness of suffering and oppression”, the Filipino youth of today are also exposed to the consumeristic values of the ‘city’ and are not spared from the contradictions and insecurities posed by the pluralistic society. They are citizens of an increasing social and cultural pluralism characteristic of many liberal societies. Is it possible that individualism may also exist within this culture, especially among the younger generation? Is individualism slowly creeping in as caused by their exposure and easy access to modern technology, to higher education, mobility, interactions with other cultures, etc. Would this individualistic tendency have any influence on their religious beliefs, especially their belief on salvation? What would be the implications and challenges of these findings to the families in the Philippines? These are the questions we wish to answer in this study. This paper is structured in four parts: first, we will discuss the theoretical framework of individualism and salvation; second, we will examine the empirical attitudes on individualism and salvation; third, we will explore the relationship between individualism and salvation; and finally, we will draw some pastoral implication especially in relation to the document “Lineamenta - The Vocation and Mission of the Family in the church and Contemporary Word” (henceforth, Lineamenta). References Atkins, P. (2004). Memory and Liturgy. The Place of Memory in the Composition and Practice of Liturgy. Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing. Bauman, Z. (1993). Postmodern Ethics. Oxford/Cambridge, MA: Blackwell. Beck, U. (1992). Risk society. London: Sage Publications. Bellah, R. N. , Madsen, R., Sullivan, W., Swidler, A., Tipton, S. (1985). Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life. Berkeley/Los Angeles/London: University of California Press. Berger, P. (1970). A Rumour of Angels: Modern Society and Rediscovery of the Supernatural. New York: Doubleday.Berger, Peter L. (1967). The Sacred Canopy. New York: Anchor Books. Bosch, D. (1995). Believing in the Future. Harrisburg, Pennsylvania: Trinity Press International. Billiet, J.B. (1995). Church Involvement, individualism, and ethnic prejudice among Flemish Roman Catholics: New evidence of a moderating effect. Journal for the Scientifica Study of Religion, 34, 224-233. Brazal, A. (2004). Reinventing Pakikipagkapwa: An Exploration of Its potential for Promoting Respect for Plurality and Difference. In D. Gonzalez (Ed.), Fundamentalism and Pluralism. Manila: DAKATEO, 50-70. Burnett, G. (2001). Paul and the Salvation of the Individual. Leiden: Brill. Capucao, D. (2010). Religion and Ethnocentrism. Leiden/New York: Brill. Carter, A. (1990). On Individualism, Collectivism and Interrelationism. Heythrop Journal, 23-38. Chaves, Mark. (1994). Secularization as Declining Religious Authority. Social Forces 72, 749-774. Cukur, C. S., De Guzman, Maria Rosario T., and Carlo, Gustavo. (2004). Religiosity, Values, and Horizontal and Vertical Individualism – Collectivism: A Study of Turkey, the United States, and the Philippines. The Journal of Social Psychology, 144(6). Washington, DC: Heldref Publications, Helen Dwight Reid Educational Foundation, 613-634. Curran, Mary Bernard. (2013). Expressive Individualism: A Change in the Idea of the Good and of Happiness. Heythrop Journal. LIV, 978-991. Davie, Grace. (2002). Europe: The Exceptional Case: Parameters of Faith in the Modern World. London: Dartman, Longman, and Todd. De Mesa, J. (1987). In Solidarity with the Culture. : Studies in Theological Re-rooting. Quezon City: Maryhill School of Theology. De Vellis, R.F. (1991). Scale Development: Theory and applications. Newbury, Ca: Sage. Dobbelaere, K. (2001). Individualisation: A Multi-Dimensional Process?. In A. Harskamp & A. Musschenga (Eds.), The Many Faces of Individualism. Leuven: Peeters, 47-61. Doorman, M. (2004): The Romantic Imperative. Amsterdam: Prometheus/Bert Bakker. Dupuis, J. (1999). The Truth Will set you Free. Louvain Studies, 24, 211-263. Duriez, B., Luyten, P. Snauwaert, B., and Hutsebaut, D. (2002). The relative importance of religiosity and value orientations in predicting political attitudes: Empirical evidence for the continuing importance of religiosity in Flanders (Belgium). Mental Health, Religion & Culture, 5, 35-54. Durkheim, Emile. (2009). Sociology and Philosophy. Taylor and Francis. ISBN ISBN 978-0-415-55770-2. Accessed May 8, 2015. Edwards, D.L. (1997). Christianity: The First Two Thousand Years. New York: Orbis books. Ester, P., Halman, L. & De Moor, R. (Eds.). (1994). The Individualizing Society. Tilburg: Tilburg University Press. Federation of Asian Bishop’s Conferences (FABC). Office of the Laity and Family-Youth Desk.(2009). Asian Youth and the Eucharist. A Regional survey 2008. Taytay, Rizal: FABC-OLF-Youth Desk. Fiske, A. (2002). Using Individualism and Collectivism to Compare Cultures – A Critique of the Validity of Measurement of the Constructs: Comment on Oyserman et al. (2002). Psychological Bulletin, Vol. 128, No. 1, 78-88. Froese, Paul D. (2009). The Plot to Kill God: Findings from the Soviet Experiment in Secularization. Berkeley: University of California Press. Furnham, A. (1990). A content, correlational and factor analysis study of seven questionnaire measures of the Protestant work ethic. Human Relations, 43, 383-399. Giddens, A. (1991). Modernity and Self-Identity. Cambridge: Polity Press Giddens, A., Beck, U., and Lash, S. (1994). Reflexive Modernization: Politics, Tradition and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order. Cambridge: Polity Press. Goffman, E. (1971). Relations in Public. London: Allen Lane. Gonzalez, D. (Eds.). (2004). Fundamentalism and Pluralism in the Church. Manila: DAKATEO. Gorospe, V. (1988). Filipino Values Revisited. Manila: National bookstore. Gorski, Philip & Altinordu, A. (2008). After Secularization. Annual Review of Sociology 34:55-85. Gorski, Philip. (2005). The Return of the Repressed: Religion and the Political Unconscious of Historical Sociology. In J. Adams, E. Clemens, and A.Orloff. (Eds.). Remaking Modernity. Durham: Duke University Press. Goizueta, Roberto S. (1991). Democratic Capitalism and the Spirit of Individualism: An Analysis of Thought of Michael Novak. Voices from the Third World: Journal of the Ecumenical Association of Third World Theologians, Volume 14, 147-69. Halman, Loek. (2001). Individualism in Contemporary Europe. In A. Harskamp & A. W. Musschenga. (Eds.). The Many Faces of Individualism. Leuven: Peeters, . 25-45. Harskamp, A.V. & Musschenga, A. (2001). The Many Faces of Individualism. Leuven: Peeters. Heitmeyer, W. (2001). Lack of Recognition: The Socially Destructive Consequences of New Capitalis. In A. V. Harskamp, A.V. & Musschenga, A. (Eds.), The Many Faces of Individualism. Leuven: Peeters. Hellemans, S. (2001). From ‘Cathokicism Against Modernity’ to the Problematic ‘Modernity of Catholicism. Ethical Perspectives 8, 2, 117-127. Hellemans, S. & Wissink, J. (Eds). (2012). Towards a New Catholic Church in Advanced Modernity. Transformations, Visions, Tensions. Zúrich/Múnster: LIT Verlag. Hofstede Center. Philippines. http://geert-hofstede.com/philippines.html. Accessed May 2, 2015. Huismans, S. (1994). The impact of differences in religion on the relation between religiosity and values. In A. Bouvy, F.J.R. van de Vijver, P. Boski, and P. Schmitz (Eds.), Journeys into cross-cultural psychology. Amsterdam: Swets & Zeitlinger, 255-268. Ikalwese. (2013). Family, For real? Ppeople and friends,Philippine society,thoughts, Thoughts - Philippines. Blog Entry posted October 24, 2013. Accessed from: https://whenthenailsticksout.wordpress.com/2013/10/24/philippines-japan-collectivism-and-i/. Inglehart, R. & W. Baker (2000). Modernization, Cultural Change, and the Persistence of Traditional Values. American Sociological Review, Vol. 65, no. 1, 2000, 81–82. Inglehart, R. (1990). Culture Shift in Advanced Industrial Society. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Inglehart, R. (1997). Modernization and Postmodernization. Cultural, Economic, and Political Change in 43 Countries. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Iyengar, Sheena. (2010). The Art of Choosing. New York: Hachette Book Group, 34-35. Jeurissen, R. (1993). Peace & Religion. Kamken Kok Pharos Publishing House. Jocano, F. L. (1992). Issues and Challenges in Filipino Value Formation. Punlad Research Paper No. 1. Series on Filipino Values. Quezon City: Punlad Research House. Jocano, F. L. (1992a). Notion of Value in Filipino Culture. The concept of Pamantayan. Punlad Research Paper No. 2 . Series on Filipino Values. Quezon City: Punlad Research House. Kagitcibasi, C. (1997). Individualism and Collectivism. In J. W. Berry, M.H. Segall, and C. Kagitcibasi (Eds.), Handbook of cross-cultural psychology Vol. 3. Needham Heights, MA: Allyn & Bacon, 1-5. Kerkhofs, J. (1998). Some European Reflections about Individualism. Ethical Perspectives 5, 2, 102-108. Lambert, Y. (2004). A Turning Point in Religious Evolution in Europe. Journal of Contemporary Religion, Vol. 19, no. 1, 29–45. Lane, D. (2011). Stepping stones to other religions: a Christian Theology of Inter-religious Dialogue. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books Luckmann, Th. (1979). Persönliche Identität, Soziale Rolle und Rollendistanz. In O. Marquardt (Ed.), Identität. München: Fink, 293-313. Luhmann, N. (1989). Individuum, Individualität, Individualismus. Gesellschaftsstruktur und Semantik. Studien zur Wissensoziologie, Bd. 3, Frankfurt a.M.:Suhrkamp, 149-259. Mangahas, M & Labucay, I. (2013). “9% of Catholics Sometimes Think of Leaving the Church”, SWS Special Report, 7 April 2013. http://www.sws.org.ph/pr20130407.htm, Accessed: 30 April 2013. Martin, David. (1991). The Secularization Issue: Prospect and Retrospect. British Journal of Sociology 42 (3), 465-74. Menamparampil, T. (2012). Between secularization and Fundamentalism. Omnis Terra. n. 425, XLVI, 143- 155. Miranda, D. (1989). Loob: The Filipino Within. Manila: Divine word Publications. Musschenga, A. (2001). “Introduction. The Many Faces of Individualism,” In Harskamp, A.V. & Musschenga, A. The Many Faces of Individualism. Leuven: Peeters, pp. 3-23. Norris, P. & Inglehart, R. (2004). Sacred and Secular: Religion and Politics Worldwide. New York, NY: Cambridge University Press.Oyserman, D., Coon H.M., & Kemmelmeier, M. (2002). Rethinking individualism and collectivism: Evaluationof theoretical assumptions and meta-analyses. Psychological Bulletin, 128, 3-73. Ponce, R. (2005). Spirituality and quality of Life. An Empirical-Theological Exploration among Filipino Migrants in the Netherlands. Quezon City: Institute of Spirituality in Asia. Pope, Stephen. Expressive Individualism and True Self-Love: A Thomistic Perspective. Journal of Religion, 383-399. Research Hub. “Secularization”. http://wiki.thearda.com/tcm/theories/secularization/. Accessed: 28 May 2015. Rokeach, M. (1973). The Nature of Human Values. New York: Free Press. Sampson, E.E. (2000). Reinterpreting individualism and collectivism. Their religious roots and monologic versus dialogic person-other relationship. American Psychologist 55, 1425-1432. Schreiter, R. (1997). The New Catholicity. Maryknoll, New York: Orbis. Schroeder, R. (1992). Max Weber and the sociology of culture. Newbury park, London: Sage. Sevilla, C.G., Ochave, J.A., Punsalan, T.G., Regala, B.P., Uriarte, G.G. (1992). Research Methods. Rev. ed. Manila: Rex Bookstore. Singelis, T.M., Triandis, H.C., Bhawuk, D.S., & Gelfand, M. (1995). Horizontal and Vertical dimensions of individualism and Collectivism: A Theoretical and measurement refinement. Cross Cultural Research, 29. Smith, Christian. (2003). The Secular Revolution. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 240-275. Sinha, D. & Tripathi, R.C. (1994). Individualism in a collective culture: A case of coexistence of opposites. Theoretical and methodological approaches to study of collectivism and individualism. In U. Kim, H.C. Triandis, C. Kagitcibasi, S. Choi, and G. Yoon (Eds.), Individualism and collectivism: Theory, method, and application. London: Sage, 123-137. Stark, Rodney. (1999). Secularization, R.I.P. Sociology of Religion, vol. 60, no. 3, 249–73. Schwartz, S.H. (1992). Universals in the content and structure of values: Theoretical advances and empirical tests in 20 countries. Advances in Experimental Social Psychology, 25, 1-65. Schwartz, S.H. (1994). Beyond individualism/collectivism: New Cultural Dimensions of Values: Theoretical and Methodological approaches to study of collectivism and invidualism. In U. Kim, H.c. Triandis, C. Kagitcibasi, S. Choi, and G. Yoon (Eds.), Individualism and collectivism. Theory, method, and application . London: Sage, 85-123. Stark, R. and Bainbridge, W.S. (1985). The future of Religion. Secularization, Revival, and Cult formation. Berkeley. Stark, R. and Bainbridge, W.S. (1987). A Theory of Religion. New York Taylor, Charles. (2007). A Secular Age. Cambridge/London: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Taylor, Charles. (1975). Hegel. London/New York: Cambridge University Press. Tschannen, Oliver. (1991). The Secularization Paradigm: A Systematization. Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 30, 395-415. Triandis, H.C. (1994). Theoretical and methodological approaches to study of collectivism and individualism. In U. Kin, H.C. Triandis, C. Kagitcibasi, S. Choi, and G. Yoon (Eds.), Individualism and Collectivism: Theory, method, and application. London: Sage, 19-41. Triandis, H.C. (1995). Individualism and collectivism. Boulder, CO: Westview. Triandis, H.C. (1996). The Psychological measurement of cultural syndromes. American Psychologist, 51, 407-415. Triandis, H.C., & Gelfand, M.J. (1998). Converging measurements of horizontal and vertical individualism and collectivism. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 74, 275-289. Van der Loo, H. & W. Van Reijen. (1993). Paradoxen van modernisering. Muiderberg: Coutinho. Van der Ven, J. (1993). Practical Theology. Kampen: Kok Pharos. Van der Ven, J. (1998). Education for Reflective Ministry. Louvain: Peeters. Veenhoeven, R. (1996). Leefbaarheid van landen. Utrecht: Research Papers Onderzoekschool Arbeid, Welzijn en Sociaal Beleid, nr. 7. Volf, M. (2006). The End of Memory. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans. Walzer, M. (1984). Liberalism and the Art of Separation. Political Theory 12, 315-333. Wostyn, L. (2010). In Search of A Human Jesus. n.p. Ziebertz, H-G. & Kay, W. K. (eds.). (2005). Youth in Europe 1. An International empirical study about Life Perspectives. Münster: LIT.

What is a machine? As part of his answer to this, historian and philosopher of technology Lewis Mumford cites a classic definition: "a machine is a combination of resistant bodies so arranged that by their means the mechanical forces of nature can be compelled to do work accompanied by certain determinant motions" (Reuleaux [1876], qtd. in Mumford, Technics and Civilisation 9). Mumford's own definition is focussed on machines as part of a technological continuum between human body and automaton: Machines have developed out of a complex of non-organic agents for converting energy, for performing work, for enlarging the mechanical or sensory capacities of the human body, or for reducing to a mensurable order and regularity the processes of life. The automaton is the last step in a process that began with the use of one part or another of the human body as a tool. (9-10) The tool and the machine can be distinguished along this technological continuum, with the tool more dependent on "the skill and motive power of the operator", subject to "manipulation", and potentially more flexible in its uses, whereas the machine lends itself more to "automatic action" of a specialised kind. However, it is difficult to ultimately separate them, since the embodied skill of the tool-user becomes more mechanical and reflexive with practice (Technics and Civilisation 10), while the machine also evolves along increasingly organic lines (367), and there are common examples of hybrid machine-tools like the lathe or drill, which combine "the accuracy of the finest machine ... with the skilled attendance of the workman" (10). A powerfully attractive feature of the computer is that it is an effective hybrid of machine and tool: like a machine it performs many specialised functions at super-human speed and accuracy on command, but like a tool it is flexible and adaptable (through add-on software and plug-in peripherals) to a seemingly endless variety of users and uses. Fascinating Assemblages The automatic machine ... involves the notion of an external source of power, a more or less complicated inter-relation of parts, and a limited kind of activity. From the beginning the machine was a sort of minor organism, designed to perform a single set of functions. (Mumford, Technics and Civilisation 11) The autonomy of the machine is perhaps its most fascinating aspect. That the machine is an assemblage of parts and restricted functions -- a "minor organism" as Mumford puts it -- suggests to us a body. There is something ineluctably erotic about scenes of lubricated pistons moving in and out of cylinders, or greased gear wheels moving around each other, and a masturbatory energy seems to be involved in the machine that repetitively and by itself performs the same limited actions over and over and over. While there are parallels between masculine masturbation and machinic repetition, there are also associations with femininity. As Andreas Huyssen pointed out, the modern machine became associated with a dangerous female sexuality and took the place of the early moderns' untamed Mother Nature as the principal representative of non-human forces with autonomy and agency that could evade human control. But arguably, expressed fears of machinic autonomy are the flip side of a wish for it, arising from masculine reproductive fantasies that have been played out in technoscience by generations of fictional and real-life Frankensteins fanatically seeking to create artificial life in the form of technoscientific brainchildren (who are nevertheless often neglected and left to run wild at birth). At a conscious level, machines express what may be interpreted as anal-sadistic desires for order, regularity and control, but unconsciously there is an element of masochistic pleasure in being passive, in yielding up control to the machine, in letting it set the scene and determine the actions and roles for the humans as well as non-humans (Sofia, "Contested Zones", and "Mythic Machine" 44-8). Machinic Zeal What is the use of conquering nature if we fall a prey to nature in the form of unbridled men? What is the use of equipping mankind with mighty powers to move and build and communicate, if the final result of this secure food supply and this excellent organisation is to enthrone the morbid impulses of a thwarted humanity? (Mumford, Technics and Civilisation 366) With his emphasis on the social context and drives towards technology, Mumford (Technics and Civilisation 364-5) suggests that while some kinds of machines have existed for thousands of years, what we have come to think of as the mechanical age only arose with the widespread adoption of the machine as a way of securing order, regularity and calculability of physical and human resources, coupled with the ideological shift which made the machine into "a goal of desire" and an object of almost obsessive veneration from the mid-18th century to the early 20th century. Now, he said (writing first in the early 1930s) faith in the machine has been somewhat shaken, and it is no longer seen as "the paragon of progress" but as "merely a series of instruments" to be used when useful; yet despite this loss of faith the machine in capitalist contexts continues to be "over-worked, over-enlarged, over-exploited because of the possibility of making money out of it" (Technics and Civilisation 367). Almost seventy years after Mumford was writing, the obsessive zeal for the machine still has not completely disappeared, but has been displaced from giant smoke-puffing steel assemblages, whirling cogs and gearwheels, or the motors driving trains, cars and planes, and onto the silicon, plastic and light of computers (whose machineries of production and assembly are largely hidden off-shore to the bulk of users, thereby producing the illusion of "post-industrial" societies). The computer is now the paragon of progress and has become the "defining technology" of our age (Bolter), its place reinforced by an actively boosterist popular press (e.g. popular computing magazines; regular computer supplements in newspapers). Sociotechnical Not Posthuman Mumford continually makes the point that questions posed by/in technology are never answerable only technologically. It always comes down to human choices, and even when the results of these "are uncontrollable they are not external" to human culture: Choice manifests itself in society in small increments and moment-to-moment decisions as well as in loud dramatic struggles; and he who does not see choice in the development of the machine merely betrays his incapacity to observe cumulative effects until they are bunched together so closely that they seem completely external and impersonal. (Mumford, Technics and Civilisation 6) In a certain way Mumford's perspective anticipates actor-network theory, which looks at artefacts -- including machines -- as parts of sociotechnical networks that involve human decisions, including about the distribution of agency to non-humans. Even in the most automated machine, Mumford argues "there must intervene somewhere, at the beginning and end of the process ... the conscious participation of a human agent" (10). Actor-network studies of the development of scientific and technological artefacts aim in part to critique the sense of the external, impersonal or inevitable in scientific and technical 'progress' by insisting that "things might have been otherwise" (Bijker & Law 3), not just at the beginning and end, but all the way through the process of an artefact's development and use. The artefact is studied as a particular outcome of a set of decisions and performances made in the midst of contingencies affecting human and non-human actors with conflicting goals and contested powers within a dynamic sociotechnical network. Although actor-network theory is very interested in non-human agents, it does not, as do some recent participants in and theorists of cyberculture, celebrate the so-called post-human. There can be no agentic machines without there having been human competencies downloaded into them; there can be no technical order that is not also social and cultural. As Latour argues, the modernist work of purification has tried vainly to impose a separation between the social and technical, denying their mutual inextricability. From this Latourian perspective, the notion of the "post-human" is not, as it appears to be, post modern, but thoroughly modern. It carries through the quintessentially modernist project of denying after the fact the human agency and capacities that have been invested in producing hybrid artefacts which are then proclaimed as extra-human; it denies the cumulative effects of sociotechnical choices and instead represents the machinic imperative as somehow impersonal and external to human affairs. The notion of the posthuman can readily reinforce the pervasive popular cultural myths of technological inevitability and dominance, conveniently for those humans and corporations who actually do profit from decisions they make about developing and marketing machines of increasing autonomy, intelligence and subtlety. Machines and Provision The role of the machine has been overemphasised in histories of technology, according to Mumford. For aside from tools and machines which perform dynamic actions, there are technologies of containment and supply, which he categorizes as utensils (like baskets or pots), apparatus (such as dye vats, brick kilns), utilities (reservoirs, aqueducts, roads, buildings) and the modern power utility (railroad tracks, electric transmission lines). Some of the most effective adaptations of the environment came, not from the invention of machines, but from the equally admirable invention of utensils, apparatus, and utilities. ... But since people's attention is directed most easily to the noisier and more active parts of the environment, the role of the utility and the apparatus has been neglected ... both [tool and utensil] have played an enormous part in the development of the modern environment and at no stage in history can the two means of adaptation be split apart. Every technological complex includes both: not least our modern one. (Technics and Civilisation, 11-2). The development of various utensils and apparatus for storage (urns, granaries) and flow (irrigation, aqueducts) was essential for the emergence of settled agricultural communities in the neolithic period (Mumford, Technics and Human Development 140-1). As I explore in a related article (Sofia, "Container"), Mumford finds a prudish sexism in the relative neglect of technologies evocative of the female organs of storage, nutrition and transformation, compared with the overemphasis on technologies that are extensions of the muscular masculine body (Technics and Human Development, 140). However, the contrast between dynamic, noisy, active and autonomous machines, and passive, quiet, backgrounded containers cannot be sustained. For one the utensil even in its most basic form, has something machinic about it: a container can perform its function autonomously, without needing manipulation like a tool. Further, it is arguable that holding or containing is not simply a property of a shaped space, but a form of action in itself. Moreover in practice there are many hybrids of machine and utensil or utility, for example in domestic technologies like the food processor, a container with a machine-driven blade, or the washing machine, featuring a tub with mechanical agitation and rotary motion. Although Mumford is primarily interested in the machine, he observes that as modern "neotechnics" proceeds to develop ever more sophisticated machinery, so does it evolve more complex technologies of containment, as described in this passage which depicts both machines and utilities as active agents: Behind the façade [of the crisp lines of steel and glass that define the modern built environment] are rows and rows of machines, weaving cotton, transporting coal ... [etc.], machines with steel fingers and lean muscular arms, with perfect reflexes, sometimes even with electric eyes. Alongside them are the new utilities -- the coke oven, the transformer, the dye vats -- chemically cooperating with these mechanical processes, assembling new qualities in chemical compounds and materials. Every effective part in this whole environment represents an effort of the collective mind to widen the province of order and control and provision. (Technics and Civilisation, 356) Another way of getting the over-emphasised machine back into proportion is to look more closely at what it is used for, what purposes it serves. Mumford writes of the machine as part of the effort to produce "order and regularity" into the processes of life (10); to "widen the province of order and control and provision" (356) or to produce a "secure food supply and ... excellent organisation" (366). In other words, the machine is serving the goals typically associated with utensils, utilities and apparatus: smoothing out fluctuations in supply and distributing resources more evenly. Likewise Mumford suggests that in the back of developments of machine and tool is the effort to adapt by extending the body's powers and/or by altering the environment, so that, for example, instead of a physiological adaptation to cold through hair growth or hibernation, "there is an environmental adaptation, such as that made possible by the use of clothes and the erection of shelters" (10). These technologies are not machines, but container technologies, in the province of what philosopher of technology Don Ihde would call "background technics". We can think of the shift in emphasis here in relation to the example of road works. The large machines for bulldozing a path and laying down layers of road surface are very impressive in their size, power and technical capacity. But the road surface could not be laid down without there being technologies (including hybrids of machine and container, like the pick-up truck) for transporting, storing and mixing the materials used. And when it is done, the big machines lumber off elsewhere, and what we have before us is a road, a utility which facilitates orderly communication, transport and the supply of people and materials. In other words, these machines have served the goal of provisioning. The machine can enthral us with its autonomy, its alterity, its thingness, but as Heidegger has claimed, even such a powerful and seemingly stand-alone machine as a plane on a runway ready for take-off is ultimately just a "completely unautonomous" element when considered as part of a global system ordered "to ensure the possibility of transportation" (17). Like other modern machines, its own objectness and machinic resistance is dissolved as it becomes part of the "standing reserve", which can be understood as a macro-technology of provisioning through a matrix of mobilisable human and non-human resources. In the broader project of which this piece is a fragment, I want to investigate more closely the role and relative importance of machines compared to other kinds of equipment, especially for containment, supply or provisioning in contemporary technoculture, on the suspicion that it is apparatus and utilities rather than machines that define our contemporary lifeworld. References Bijker, Wiebe E., and John Law. General Introduction. Shaping Technology/Building Society: Studies in Sociotechnical Change. Eds. Bijker and Law. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT P, 1992. Bolter, Jay David. "The Computer as a Defining Technology." Computers in the Human Context: Information Technology, Production, and People. Ed. Tom Forester. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1989. Heidegger, Martin. "The Question Concerning Technology." The Question Concerning Technology and Other Essays. Trans. William Lovitt. New York: Harper & Row, 1977. Andreas Huyssen. "The Vamp and the Machine: Technology and Sexuality in Fritz Lang's Metropolis." New German Critique 24-25 (1982), 221-37. Also in Huyssen. After the Great Divide. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1986. Ihde, Don. Technology and the Lifeworld: From Garden to Earth. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1990. Latour, Bruno. We Have Never Been Modern. Trans. Catherine Porter. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard UP, 1993. Mumford, Lewis. Technics and Civilisation. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1962 [1934]. ---. Technics and Human Development. New York: Harcourt Brace & World, 1966. Sofia, Zoë. "Container Technologies." Hypatia, Spring 2000 (forthcoming). ---. "Contested Zones: Futurity and Technological Art." Leonardo: Journal of the International Society for the Arts, Sciences, and Technology 29.1 (1996): 59-66. ---. "The Mythic Machine: Gendered Irrationalities and Computer Culture." Education/Technology/Power: Educational Computing as a Social Practice. Eds. Hank Bromley and Michael W. Apple. Albany NY: SUNY, 1998. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Zoë Sofoulis. "Machinic Musings with Mumford." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.6 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9909/mumford.php>. Chicago style: Zoë Sofoulis, "Machinic Musings with Mumford," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 6 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9909/mumford.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Zoë Sofoulis. (1999) Machinic musings with Mumford. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(6). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9909/mumford.php> ([your date of access]).

Obsolescence is most frequently talked about in relation to the history of technology. A still-common way of understanding modernity is as a linear succession of emerging technologies which supersede existing ones, and which are themselves, in time, made redundant. The cycle of novelty and obsolescence underpins a narrative including episodes of human invention, mastery and eventual technological failure. Nevertheless, it makes technologies themselves the subjects of history, rather than the human beings whose choices frame their contingent births, shapings, adoptions and uses. Many have pointed out the extent to which this simplifies history, but this has made precious little impact, if the way in which many writers treat digital communications technologies is any guide. Professional new media evangelists, including media and cultural theorists who subscribe to what Turner describes as an entrenched “digital orthodoxy”, are nowadays wont to describing mass media – including all broadcast and print media – as “heritage” media. This neat rhetorical trick confirms all remaining manifestations and uses of such media as remnants of the past in the present, as curiosities, even perhaps as impediments to the “imaginary futures” (Barbrook) regularly projected onto new technologies. On the other hand, similar assumptions underlie narratives of decline and decay which attach themselves to new media technologies. Thus we can understand laments for the lost qualities (and quality) of old media from writers such as Andrew Keen, which themselves shape self-interested pronouncements about the decadence of the new communications environment from the highest echelons of established media (Hartigan). A history of scholarship from media historians has worked to try to nuance the contours of this oldest of modern stories, and to complicate the relationship between modernity, technological obsolescence, and social reality. Brian Winston’s work has shown how messy the business of invention and adoption is. Caroline Marvyn’s book When Old Technologies Were New showed how durable are the terms in which we are invited to link new technologies with progress. Lisa Gitelman’s Always Already New shows how complexly interweaved our understanding of media history is with our own media use. Collections like New Media, 1740-1915 and Residual Media have offered a number of theoretical critiques and case-studies which show the contemporary persistence of old media, and the recurrence of simplifying, totalising rhetorics of media history. More specifically, work like Sterne’s shows how contemplating obsolescence can give us a way of thinking about the downside of media change in terms of the problem of ecological damage in the form of e-waste. Most importantly for us, though, are those who use the category of obsolescence as a way of understanding that in the forward march of modernity, there are losers as well as winners. Watkins links technological obsolescence with the production of certain people, certain segments of the population as obsolescent. For him, obsolescent people can be understood as engaged in a “useless survival”, and are linked with obsolete technologies. David Simon, the creator of the television series The Wire, which richly depicted the “useless survival” of the city of Baltimore and its civic institutions, recently put this same position bluntly, linking obsolescence with class and race in contemporary America: these really are the excess people in America, we – our economy doesn't need them. We don't need ten or 15 percent of our population. And certainly the ones that are undereducated, that have been ill served by the inner city school system, that have been unprepared for the technocracy of the modern economy... The people most affected by this are black and brown and poor. It's the abandoned inner cores of our urban areas. And we don't, as we said before, economically, we don't need those people. The American economy doesn't need them. So, as long as they stay in their ghettos, and they only kill each other, we're willing to pay a police presence to keep them out of our America. (Moyers) Five series of The Wire showed the incapacity of police, labour unions, the school system, civic government and newspapers in serving those people who Zygmunt Bauman calls “human waste”, those who are “redundant” in the new economy. The decline of manufacturing industries, rapid advances in the capacity of communication technologies, and the troubled business models of “old media” have advantaged those with the skills and capacity to become “network capitalists” (Bradwell & Reeves) in the information era, but they have turned whole cities into what Bauman calls “waste yards”, wherein industries, social infrastructures and entire neighbourhoods are antiquated, surplus to requirements. In The Wire, those who are shown to benefit most readily from the collapse of these economic and social forces, from the improvements in networked communications, and the globalisation of trade are those who sell the drugs which have turned Baltimore’s inner city into a free-fire zone. Obsolescence, then, is a category which allows us to think about the destruction, or “useless persistence”, of the people, patterns of life and territories which are imbricated with those technologies which are seen as being past their prime. It allows us to think about the power that accrues to “early adopters” as against those who are forced to “make do” with older technologies, and how that power is often implicated in already-existing patterns of social disadvantage – how it maps onto existing class structures, or the horizontal inequalities of geography. But we can also think of the ways in which obsolete technologies are recuperated and celebrated, whether by resistant consumers or “fans” of a particular technology, or by the process whereby yesterday's trash is historicised and aestheticisied by collectors, curators and scholars. We also might reflect on our own practice as academics. To what extent are our traditional patterns of work lubricated and enhanced by digital processes, or are they themselves artefacts of the past. This issue of M/C Journal offers some specific meditations on the theme of obsolescence. The first three pieces think reflexively about the processes by which academics are credentialised and published. In our first feature, John Hartley wonders whether the passing of the traditional, paper scholarly journal as the main means for academic publication and community-building might not irrevocably change and even damage collegiality, and the way in which we understand our fields. Kate Bowles replies to Hartley in a piece which originated as a peer review of his paper, and which is published here at the request of both authors. For Bowles, Hartley’s focus on e-publishing and the obsolescence of paper journals is potentially a distraction – the real concern is the way in which bureaucratic rationality threatens to push organic forms of collegial behaviour into the dustbin of history. Donna Lee Brien argues that the traditional PhD may be obsolete, and it must change to reflect the needs of students, new models of learning, and the employment marketplace. The second group of articles asks questions about the inevitability of obsolescence, and case-studies of users pushing back against the obsolescence of favoured machines. In our second feature, Greg Shapley offers an expansive critique of the most fundamental recent narrative of obsolescence, which relies on the dichotomy of the analogue and the digital, and the supplanting of one by the other. Shapley complicates our history by relating the odd story of the fax machine. Peter Thomas shows how Super 8 cannot be approached simply, lazily as a fetishised object of nostalgia. He shows how Super 8 continues in use as a specialised filmmaking stock, but that its most crucial textural characteristics have been lost in the transition from widespread amateur use to professional applications. Huh and Ackerman discuss the determined resistance by users of the HP200LX PDA device to the discontinuation of the device. Our third set of articles rethink approaches to a technological field in which cycles of novelty and obsolescent are notoriously swift and prominent – computer games. James Newman unleashes an impassioned polemic regarding the need to preserve and archive “obsolete” games as an element of Britain’s and the world’s cultural heritage. Thompson, McAllister and Ruggill use their own efforts at curation and preservation as the starting point for a theoretical meditation on the relationships between nostalgia, collection and obsolescence. Chris Moore asks whether new methods of digital distribution might ameliorate one of the more pernicious side-effects of the games industry’s relentless focus on novelty – e-waste. He looks at the online distribution platform Steam as a venue where both hardware and software obsolescence may be countered and complicated by weightless distribution and the “long tail” effect. While acknowledging continuing concerns with Steam – for example concerns about user privacy – Moore wonders whether online distribution might make the more wasteful aspects of structured obsolescence, well, obsolete. Together, these articles make a contribution to a reorientation that’s already underway in media and cultural studies. It’s arguable that cultural and media studies perennial fetishisation of “youth”, subcultural and the new have been intensified by the shift to a focus on new media technologies. Perhaps this has been at the expense of a focus on the old, the ordinary, and what happened the day before yesterday. (Driscoll and Gregg) A focus on obsolescence allows us to count the complex costs of our perennial impulse to novelty. It allows us to think through the series of revaluations that technologies typically undergo as they pass from being the newest thing, to junk, to collectable. It helps us to think about the relationships between technology use and the social position of users. We present this as the first step in our own effort to bring a greater focus to the issues thrown up when we think about the obsolete. We hope you will enjoy this issue when it’s new, and not discard it lightly when the next one comes along. References Acland, Charles, ed. Residual Media. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2007. Barbrook, Richard. Imaginary Futures: From Thinking Machines to the Global Village. London: Pluto, 2007. Bauman, Zygmunt. Wasted Lives: Modernity and its Outcasts. London: John Wiley and Sons, 2003. Bradwell, Peter, and Richard Reeves. Network Citizens: Power and Responsibility at Work. London: Demos, 2009. Driscoll, Catherine, and Melissa Gregg. “The YouTube Generation: Moral Panic, Youth Culture and Internet Studies” in Usha Rodrigues (ed) Youth and Media in the Asia-Pacific Region. Cambridge: Cambridge Scholars Press. 2008. Gitelman, Lisa. Always Already New: Media, History and the Data of Culture. Boston: MIT Press. Hartigan, John. “John Hartigan address to the National Press Club.” news.com.au. 9 July 2009 ‹http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,25718006-661,00.html›. Keen, Andrew. The Cult of the Amateur: How Today's Internet is Killing Our Culture. New York: Doubleday, 2007. Marvin, Carolyn. When Old Technologies Were New: Rethinking Electric Communication in the Nineteenth Century. Oxford: OUP, 1990. Moyers, Bill. “David Simon: Transcript.” Bill Moyers Journal. 9 July 2009 ‹http://www.pbs.org/cove-media/http/PBS_CP_Bill_Moyers/58/1000/transcript1.html›. Sterne, Jonathan. “Out With the Trash: On the Future of New Media.” Residual Media. Ed Charles Acland. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2007. Turner, Graeme. “Television and the Nation: Does This Matter Anymore?” Television Studies After TV. Ed Graeme Turner and Jinna Tay. London and New York: Routledge, 2009. Watkins, Evan. Throwaways: Work, Culture and Consumer Education. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1993. Winston, Brian. Media, Technology and Society: A History: From the Telegraph to the Internet. New York and London: Routledge, 1998.