Journal articles on the topic 'Cricket device'

Aversive learning has been studied in a variety of species, such as honey bees, mice, and non-human primates. Since aversive learning has been found in some invertebrates and mammals, it will be interesting to know if this ability is shared with crickets. This paper provides data on aversive learning in male and female house crickets (Acheta domesticus) using a shuttle box apparatus. Crickets are an ideal subject for these experiments due to their well-documented learning abilities in other contexts and their readily quantifiable behaviors. The shuttle box involves a two-compartment shock grid in which a ‘master’ cricket can learn to avoid the shock by moving to specific designated locations, while a paired yoked cricket is shocked regardless of its location and therefore cannot learn. Baseline control crickets were placed in the same device as the experimental crickets but did not receive a shock. Male and female master crickets demonstrated some aversive learning, as indicated by spending more time than expected by chance in the correct (no shock) location during some parts of the experiment, although there was high variability in performance. These results suggest that there is limited evidence that the house crickets in this experiment learned how to avoid the shock. Further research with additional stimuli and other cricket species should be conducted to determine if house crickets and other species of crickets exhibit aversive learning.

ABSTRACT Background Fast bowling in cricket is an important skill that imparts mechanical loads on limbs. The differential loading patterns involved in bowling affect the peripheral limb bone status. Objective To evaluate bone properties using quantitative ultrasound densitometry (QUS), among fast cricket bowlers in comparison with nonathletes. A secondary objective was designed to find correlation between QUS parameters and bonespecific physical activity questionnaire (BPAQ). Methodology A total of 80 subject, 40 fast cricket bowlers of both gender (20 male and 20 female) and 40 nonathletes (20 male and 20 female) were included in our study and all are aged between 20 and 25 years. Bone speed of sound (SOS) was measured bilaterally at the distal radius and the mid tibia using Sunlight OmnisenseTM device. Results There was a significant difference between dominant side and nondominant side radial SOS (p < 0.05) and tibial SOS (p < 0.05) in cricket bowlers favoring dominant radial bone SOS and nondominant tibial bone SOS which was not found in nonathletes. Significant difference in dominant radial bone SOS values (p < 0.05) and nondominant tibial bone SOS (p < 0.05) values existed between cricket bowlers and controls. Positive correlation was found between tibial SOS and past BPAQ in all subjects. Conclusion QUS parameters were significantly higher in young cricket bowlers with greater values observed in the dominant arm and leading foot, thus reflecting the osteogenic effect that occurs due to the nature of the game. Further BPAQ is significantly correlated with lower limb bone properties as measured by QUS at mid shaft tibia. How to cite this article Shenoy S, Parthasarathy S, Sandhu JS. Quantitative Ultrasound Densitometry in University Level Cricket Fast Bowlers and Nonathletes. J Postgrad Med Edu Res 2013;47(2):83-89.

Purpose:Bowling workload is linked to injury risk in cricket fast bowlers. This study investigated the validity of microtechnology in the automated detection of bowling counts and events, including run-up distance and velocity, in cricket fast bowlers.Method:Twelve highly skilled fast bowlers (mean ± SD age 23.5 ± 3.7 y) performed a series of bowling, throwing, and fielding activities in an outdoor environment during training and competition while wearing a microtechnology unit (MinimaxX). Sensitivity and specificity of a bowling-detection algorithm were determined by comparing the outputs from the device with manually recorded bowling counts. Run-up distance and run-up velocity were measured and compared with microtechnology outputs.Results:No significant differences were observed between direct measures of bowling and nonbowling events and true positive and true negative events recorded by the MinimaxX unit (P = .34, r = .99). The bowling-detection algorithm was shown to be sensitive in both training (99.0%) and competition (99.5%). Specificity was 98.1% during training and 74.0% during competition. Run-up distance was accurately recorded by the unit, with a percentage bias of 0.8% (r = .90). The final 10-m (–8.9%, r = .88) and 5-m (–7.3%, r = .90) run-up velocities were less accurate.Conclusions:The bowling-detection algorithm from the MinimaxX device is sensitive to detect bowling counts in both cricket training and competition. Although specificity is high during training, the number of false positive events increased during competition. Additional bowling workload measures require further development.

Background.There has been a continual increase in injury rates in cricket, with hamstring strain injuries (HSIs) being the most prominent. Eccentric knee flexor weakness and bilateral asymmetries are major modifiable risk factors for future HSIs. However, there is a lack of data relating to eccentric hamstring strength in cricket at any skill level. The objective of this study was to compare eccentric knee flexor strength and bilateral asymmetries in elite, sub-elite and school level cricket players; and to determine if playing position and limb role influenced these eccentric knee flexor strength indices.Methods.Seventy four male cricket players of three distinct skill levels performed three repetitions of the Nordic hamstring exercise on the experimental device. Strength was assessed as the absolute and relative mean peak force output for both limbs, with bilateral asymmetries. Differences in mean peak force outputs between skill level and playing positions were measured.Results.There were no significant differences between elite, sub-elite and school level athletes for mean peak force and bilateral asymmetries of the knee flexors. There were no significant differences observed between bowler’s and batter’s mean peak force and bilateral asymmetries. There were no significant differences between front and back limb mean peak force outputs.Discussion.Skill level, playing position and limb role appeared to have no significant effect on eccentric knee flexor strength and bilateral asymmetries. Future research should seek to determine whether eccentric knee flexor strength thresholds are predictive of HSIs in cricket and if specific eccentric knee flexor strengthening can reduce these injuries.

Many Vietnamese writers have recognised the utility of literary devices to beautify the artistic features in written texts. Like other rhetorical devices, simile plays an essential role in bringing meaningful values close to the readers. The research aims at identifying the usage of simile in the translation equivalents between Vietnamese and English in De men phieu luu ky and its translated version Diary of a cricket. From analysing 108 sentences by the descriptive qualitative research, the findings showed that (1) The high frequency of using the complete form of simile to express the figure of speech. (2) The imbalance in the translation rate between two languages and the most popular simile word of like usage in English translated text. (3) The variables of comparative words and themes used in the target text show the same meaning in the source text. Those conclusions shed light on the quality improvement on the target text, especially in both translator's training and further translation education.

The sagebrush cricket, Cyphoderris strepitans is one of only five extant species belonging to an ancient insect lineage, the Haglidae, believed to be ancestral to modern-day crickets and katydids (Orthoptera: Ensifera) (Morris and Gwynne 1978, Vickery 1989). C. strepitans occurs exclusively in mountainous areas of Wyoming and Colorado, where it is found primarily in high-altitude sagebrush meadow habitat. Adults become sexually active in May, shortly after snow melt, and remain active for the next 4-6 weeks. Pair formation is mediated through acoustic signaling by males, which functions to attract sexually receptive females (Snedden and Sakaluk 1992). Copulation is initiated when a receptive female climbs onto the dorsum of a male, at which time he attempts to transfer a spermatophore. During copulation, the female feeds on the male's fleshy hindwings and bodily fluids leaking from the wounds she inflicts, behavior which constitutes a form of courtship feeding (Dodson et al. 1983, Sakaluk et al. 1987, Morris et al. 1989, Sakaluk and Snedden 1990). At the same time, the female is secured by the male's abdominal pinching organ, a device known as a "gin trap" (Morris 1979). The gin trap of a male C. strepitans consists of two pairs of recurved spines, one pair directed anteriorally and the other posteriorally, located on the 10th and 8th tergites, respectively. The spines are brought together, pinching the female's abdomen, as the male's tergites are telescoped inward during his attempts to secure genitalic contact (Morris 1979). Although the gin trap clearly serves a reproductive role, its precise functional significance remains unknown; comparable reproductive structures are not known from any other family of the Orthoptera.

<p>Abstrak :</p><p>Kondisi lingkungan sering berubah-ubah membuat kondisi hewan ternak menjadi kurang produktif, terutama pada hewan ternak jangkrik. Selain dipengaruhi kondisi lingkungan yang berubah-ubah dan tidak menentu, penurunan hasil ternak jangkrik dipengaruhi oleh suhu dan kelembaban. Suhu yang ideal untuk ternak jangkrik ini berada pada kisaran 20°C-32°C. Sedangkan untuk kelembaban kandang berada pada kisaran 65%-80%. Untuk itu perlu alat untuk mengukur suhu dan kelembaban kandang jangkrik yang dapat mengawasi keadaan serta mengetahui kondisi kandang jangkrik itu sendiri sehingga dapat meningkatkan kualitas produksi jangkrik.</p><p>Berdasarkan permasalahan tersebut dibuat sistem monitoring ternak jangkrik. Dimana sistem ini dapat melakukan penyiraman secara otomatis jika suhu kandang jangkrik terlalu panas dan kandang terlalu lembab.</p><p>Hasil dari penelitian ini adalah <em>dashboard</em> informasi kondisi kandang jangkrik dengan sensor suhu dan kelembaban. Sistem ini pada menggunakan sensor suhu, kelembaban dan perangkat water pump yang didirakit pada mikrokontroler <em>NodeMCU</em>. Sedangkan Informasi ditampilkan secara <em>dashboard</em> monitoring dengan menggunakan framework Codeigniter.</p><p>_____________________________</p><p>Abstract :</p><p><em>Environmental conditions often change, making conditions for livestock to be less productive, especially for crickets. Apart from being influenced by changing and erratic environmental conditions, the decline in cricket production is influenced by temperature and humidity. The ideal temperature for crickets is in the range of 20 ° C-32 ° C. Meanwhile, the humidity of the cage is in the range of 65% -80%. For that, we need a tool to measure the cricket cage's temperature and humidity that can monitor the situation and know the condition of the cricket cage itself so that it can improve the quality of cricket production.</em></p><p><em>Based on these problems, a monitoring system for crickets was created. This system can do watering automatically if the cricket cage's temperature is too hot and the cage is too humid.</em></p><p><em>This research made a dashboard of information on the crickets cage's condition with temperature and humidity sensors. This system uses temperature, humidity sensors, and water pump devices, which are assembled on the NodeMCU microcontroller. Meanwhile, information is displayed in a monitoring dashboard using a Codeigniter framework.</em></p>

BackgroundHamstring strain injuries (HSI) are one of the most prevalent and serious injuries affecting athletes, particularly those in team ball sports or track and field. Recent evidence demonstrates that eccentric knee flexor weakness and between limb asymmetries are possible risk factors for HSIs. While eccentric hamstring resistance training, e.g. the Nordic hamstring exercise (NHE) significantly increases eccentric hamstring strength and reduces HSI risk, little research has examined whether between limb asymmetries can be reduced with training. As augmented feedback (AF) can produce significant acute and chronic increases in muscular strength and reduce injury risk, one way to address the limitation in the eccentric hamstring training literature may be to provide athletes real-time visual AF of their NHE force outputs with the goal to minimise the between limb asymmetry.MethodsUsing a cross over study design, 44 injury free, male cricket players from two skill levels performed two NHE sessions on a testing device. The two NHE sessions were identical with the exception of AF, with the two groups randomised to perform the sessions with and without visual feedback of each limb’s force production in real-time. When performing the NHE with visual AF, the participants were provided with the following instructions to ‘reduce limb asymmetries as much as possible using the real-time visual force outputs displayed in front them’. Between limb asymmetries and mean peak force outputs were compared between the two feedback conditions (FB1 and FB2) using independentt-tests to ensure there was no carryover effect, and to determine any period and treatment effects. The magnitude of the differences in the force outputs were also examined using Cohendeffect size.ResultsThere was a significant increase in mean peak force production when feedback was provided (mean difference, 21.7 N; 95% CI [0.2–42.3 N];P= 0.048;d= 0.61) and no significant difference in between limb asymmetry for feedback or no feedback (mean difference, 5.7%; 95% CI [−2.8% to 14.3%];P= 0.184;d= 0.41). Increases in force production under feedback were a result of increased weak limb (mean difference, 15.0 N; 95% CI [1.6–28.5 N];P= 0.029;d= 0.22) force contribution compared to the strong limb.DiscussionThe results of this study further support the potential utility of AF in improving force production and reducing risk in athletic populations. While there are currently some financial limitations to the application of this training approach, even in high-performance sport, such an approach may improve outcomes for HSI prevention programs. Further research with more homogenous populations over greater periods of time that assess the chronic effect of such training practices on injury risk factors and injury rates are also recommended.

This article looks at the implementation of a web-based support system for measuring the fielding performance in cricket using open source technologies. Front-end has been developed using HTML, CSS and JavaScript. The back-end uses MySQL as the database for storing fielding related data. PHP is used to interact with the MySQL database. The web-based support system which is named Field-o-meter can be used to record fielding data, display fielding data, compute fielding performance measure and generate reports. The system has facilities for different categories of users, viz., administrators, data entry operators and viewers. Users need to login to access the system. Data can be added, deleted, displayed and also edited with certain restrictions. Analysis reports may be viewed online. Fielding data can be downloaded in xls (MS Excel) format. Being an online system hosted on a web server, it can be accessed from anywhere with an Internet connection. The web-based support system is easy to use with a simply designed interface. The system’s interface gets adjusted to mobile devices and as such can be used with a mobile browser. The system has been tested successfully for all the leading web browsers—Google Chrome, Firefox, Microsoft Edge, Opera and Safari.

Scientists have long been interested in recording data from freely moving animals. For larger animals, several telemetric techniques are available not only for following the movement of unrestrained animals in the wild (White and Garrott, 1990) but also for transmitting measures of heartbeat, body temperature, wingbeat, respiration, etc. (e.g. Lord et al. 1962; Butler and Woakes, 1980; Funk et al. 1993; for an overview, see Amlaner and Macdonald, 1980). Because of the size of such transmission devices, however, data acquisition has been restricted to larger animals. The development of lightweight batteries and microchips has only recently facilitated efforts to transmit data from smaller animals such as insects. Such data should greatly enhance our understanding of the processes involved in the neuronal control of unrestricted behaviour. Eventually it should be possible to monitor the activity of individual units (neurones, muscles) under closed-loop conditions, which closely resemble free movement. It is to be expected that this new approach will surpass previous studies involving intact but surface-bound animals implanted with long flexible electrodes (for crickets, see Kutsch, 1969) or animals tethered in a windstream (for improvement of the flight balance device, compare Weis-Fogh, 1956, with Dombrowsky, 1991). Increased freedom has been achieved in experiments on ‘free flight’ of large insects (Mohl, 1988; Stolley, 1990), although even these animals were restricted to a short or stationary flight handicapped by several implanted flexible electrodes.

Global positioning system (GPS) technology was made possible after the invention of the atomic clock. The first suggestion that GPS could be used to assess the physical activity of humans followed some 40 y later. There was a rapid uptake of GPS technology, with the literature concentrating on validation studies and the measurement of steady-state movement. The first attempts were made to validate GPS for field sport applications in 2006. While GPS has been validated for applications for team sports, some doubts continue to exist on the appropriateness of GPS for measuring short high-velocity movements. Thus, GPS has been applied extensively in Australian football, cricket, hockey, rugby union and league, and soccer. There is extensive information on the activity profile of athletes from field sports in the literature stemming from GPS, and this includes total distance covered by players and distance in velocity bands. Global positioning systems have also been applied to detect fatigue in matches, identify periods of most intense play, different activity profiles by position, competition level, and sport. More recent research has integrated GPS data with the physical capacity or fitness test score of athletes, game-specific tasks, or tactical or strategic information. The future of GPS analysis will involve further miniaturization of devices, longer battery life, and integration of other inertial sensor data to more effectively quantify the effort of athletes.

Sports participation has been linked to various health outcomes; however, there is scant literature exploring this relationship in developing countries. We used a mixed method approach to examine the association between sports participation and mental health of Bangladeshi adolescents (n = 320; 13–17 years; 59% boys) and to explore sports preferences and barriers to sports participation across genders. A survey collected team and non-team sports participation, depression, and life satisfaction. Focus groups (16 boys, 16 girls) explored preferences for, and barriers to, sports participation. Regression analysis showed that higher team and non-team sports participation were associated with lower depressive symptoms in boys (β = −1.22, 95% CI:−2.55 to −0.10; β = −2.50, 95% CI:−3.83 to −1.16, respectively), while greater participation in team sports was associated with less depression in girls (β = −2.44, 95% CI:−4.63 to −0.24). Participation in team and non-team sports was positively associated with life satisfaction for boys and girls. Boys reported preferences for playing football and cricket, while girls favored skipping and running. Prolonged time on electronic devices was reported as barriers to sports participation in both genders. Furthermore, household chores, family restrictions, and unsafe environment were reported by girls. Participation in team sports may provide mental health benefits for both genders, while non-team sports may be more beneficial to boys than girls.

Narayan’s Swami and Friends (1935) luminously portrays its child protagonist Swaminathan’s adventures in soul making, his skirmishes with his little comrades and reconciliations in his soupy school, his contact with the experienced adult world vis-à-vis apparently apolitical, shallow and banal Swami and Friends (1935) also postulates encoded political and cultural resistance so strategically camouflaged by Narayan’s narrative devise. Narayan’s Anti-colonial propaganda, his aversion to fundamentalism and authoritarianism, his earnest desire to bring the subaltern narrative into our mainstream narrative give him a special place in literary world. Kudos to the Nietzschean Will to Power of the common inhabitants of Malgudi and the little urchins of Albert Mission School that they dared to join the protest march against the hegemony of their white colonial masters. Swami much like Ishaan of Aamir Khan’s Taare Zameen Par (2007) used to shudder at the very thought of his monotonous school where his wings of freedom used to be crushed under the fatal mill of the authoritarian and strict teachers except D.Pillai who was famous among the students. Swaminathan’s hybrid identity, Rajam’s Europeanized existence, overlapping associations of tradition and modernity, class struggle, Centre/Periphery, Self/Other, Master/Slave dichotomy in Swami and Friends (1935) actually celebrate Narayan’s deep concern for our pluralistic and multicultural Indian identity where Narayan has also given space to the subaltern existence like Rajam’s family cook who was insulted and undervalued by Rajam only because Rajam belonged to the centre of a power structure. In this paper I would like to investigate in which way Narayan has pointed out the various agathokakological entities of human life through the artistic representation of his characters, his celebration of India’s heterogeneous identity, class struggle, the marginalized and peripheralized existence of subaltern voices, politics of colonial masters’ Self and the muted Other in an unequal power structure where a very limited number of people actually get access to the resources , ambivalence, hybrid identity etc. with reference to Swami and Friends (1935).

Context Live traps are regularly used in field and enclosure studies with mammals. In some scenarios, such as, for example, when the focus is on temporal patterns or to minimise the time animals are contained inside the trap for animal-ethics reasons, it can be highly useful to be alerted immediately when an individual is trapped. Aims In the present study, an automated system was trialed that is designed to automatically send a signal to a receiving device (pager, computer, mobile phone) when the body heat or movement of a trapped small mammal is registered by an infrared sensor (ERMINEA permanent monitoring system for rodent detection). Methods Sensors were attached to Ugglan multiple-capture traps and used in laboratory conditions and in semi-natural outdoor enclosures with common voles (Microtus arvalis) and bank voles (Myodes glareolus), as well as in the field with bank voles, Apodemus species and common voles. Sensor readings were compared to visual observation and trapping results. Key results In enclosure and field conditions, 100% and 98.7% of traps recorded captured animals correctly. There were no sensor signals when rodents moved along the outside or in the entrance compartment of the traps. Rodents sitting on the trap door triggered the sensor in 50% of cases when there was no bedding in the trap; however, there were no sensor signals if bedding was present. In laboratory trials, 20–70% of traps were falsely triggered by large insects (crickets), depending on ambient temperature and whether bedding was in the trap. Conclusions Generally, the system was a reliable, flexible and easy-to-handle tool to monitor live captures. To minimise false negatives (animals trapped without signal), testing sensor function in the pre-baiting phase and software adjustments are recommended. Implications The sensors are compatible with various trapping and other monitoring devices, providing the potential to be used in a wide range of applications. Their use is likely to optimise study designs, especially when temporal patterns are recorded or animals or samples need to be obtained soon after capture, and to minimise stress of trapped animals because they can be removed shortly after capture.

Evolving over millions of years, hair-like natural flow sensors called cilia, which are found in fish, crickets, spiders, and inner ear cochlea, have achieved high resolution and sensitivity in flow sensing. In the pursuit of achieving such exceptional flow sensing performance in artificial sensors, researchers in the past have attempted to mimic the material, morphological, and functional properties of biological cilia sensors, to develop MEMS-based artificial cilia flow sensors. However, the fabrication of bio-inspired artificial cilia sensors involves complex and cumbersome micromachining techniques that lay constraints on the choice of materials, and prolongs the time taken to research, design, and fabricate new and novel designs, subsequently increasing the time-to-market. In this work, we establish a novel process flow for fabricating inexpensive, yet highly sensitive, cilia-inspired flow sensors. The artificial cilia flow sensor presented here, features a cilia-inspired high-aspect-ratio titanium pillar on an electrospun carbon nanofiber (CNF) sensing membrane. Tip displacement response calibration experiments conducted on the artificial cilia flow sensor demonstrated a lower detection threshold of 50 µm. Furthermore, flow calibration experiments conducted on the sensor revealed a steady-state airflow sensitivity of 6.16 mV/(m s−1) and an oscillatory flow sensitivity of 26 mV/(m s−1), with a lower detection threshold limit of 12.1 mm/s in the case of oscillatory flows. The flow sensing calibration experiments establish the feasibility of the proposed method for developing inexpensive, yet sensitive, flow sensors; which will be useful for applications involving precise flow monitoring in microfluidic devices, precise air/oxygen intake monitoring for hypoxic patients, and other biomedical devices tailored for intravenous drip/urine flow monitoring. In addition, this work also establishes the applicability of CNFs as novel sensing elements in MEMS devices and flexible sensors.

Roy Williams is one of the outstanding new voices in contemporary British theatre. Born in Fulham, south-west London, in 1968, he has already, by his mid-thirties, won a shelf-full of awards, with plays staged at the National Theatre and Royal Court. His debut, The No Boys Cricket Club, won the Writers' Guild New Writer of the Year award in 1996. Two years later, his follow-up, Starstruck, won three major awards: the John Whiting Award for Best New Play, an EMMA (Ethnic Multicultural Media Awards) for Best Play, and the first Alfred Fagon Award, for theatre in English by writers with Caribbean connections. In 2000, Lift Off was joint winner of the George Devine Award, and in 2001 Clubland received the Evening Standard Award for Most Promising Playwright. In 2002, Williams received a best school drama BAFTA (British Academy of Film and Television Arts) for Offside (BBC), and in 2004 he won the first Arts Council Decibel Award, given to black or Asian artists in recognition of their contribution to the arts. His most recent play, Little Sweet Thing, was a 2005 co-production between Ipswich’s New Wolsey Theatre, Nottingham Playhouse, and Birmingham Rep. What follows is an edited transcript of Aleks Sierz’s ‘In Conversation with Roy Williams’, part of the ‘Other Voices’ symposium at Rose Bruford College, Sidcup, Kent, in May 2004, organized by Nesta Jones. Williams is a graduate and now a Fellow of the college.

Underwater acoustic transducers, particularly at low frequencies, are beset by problems of scale and inefficiency due to the large wavelengths of sound in water. In insect mating calls, a high call volume is usually desirable, increasing the range of signal transmission and providing a form of advertisement of the signaller's quality to a potential mate; however, the strength of the call is constrained by body size and by the need to avoid predators who may be listening in. Male crickets and water boatmen avoid some of the limitations of body size by exploiting resonant structures, which produce sharply tuned species-specific songs, but call frequency and volume remain linked to body size. Recently, the water boatman Micronecta scholtzi was found to circumvent this rule, producing a louder mating call than that of similar, but much larger, Corixa . The resonant structure in Corixidae and Micronectinae is believed to be the trapped air reserves around the insect as it dives, driven by a stridulatory apparatus. However, the method by which energy is transferred from the striated area to the bubble is unknown. Here, we present modelling of a system of near-field coupling of acoustic sources to bubbles showing an exponential increase in sound power gain with decreasing distance that provides a simple solution to the stimulus of the air bubbles in Corixidae and Micronectinae and explains the discrepancy of M. scholtzi 's extreme call volume. The findings suggest a possible route to engineered systems using near-field coupling to overcome size constraints in low-frequency (less than 500 Hz) underwater transducers, where the input efficiency of a piezoelectric device can be coupled through the hydrodynamic field to the high radiative efficiency of a near-ideal monopole emitter.

Abstract Mobile group II introns are site-specific retrotransposable elements abundant in bacterial and organellar genomes. They are composed of a large and highly structured ribozyme and an intron-encoded reverse transcriptase that binds tightly to its intron to yield a ribonucleoprotein (RNP) particle. During the first stage of the mobility pathway, the intron RNA catalyses its own insertion directly into the DNA target site. Recognition of the proper target rests primarily on multiple base-pairing interactions between the intron RNA and the target DNA, while the protein makes contacts with only a few target positions by yet-unidentified mechanisms. Using a combination of comparative sequence analyses and in vivo mobility assays we demonstrate the existence of a new base-pairing interaction named EBS2a–IBS2a between the intron RNA and its DNA target site. This pairing adopts a Watson–Crick geometry and is essential for intron mobility, most probably by driving unwinding of the DNA duplex. Importantly, formation of EBS2a–IBS2a also requires the reverse transcriptase enzyme which stabilizes the pairing in a non-sequence-specific manner. In addition to bringing to light a new structural device that allows subgroup IIB1 and IIB2 introns to invade their targets with high efficiency and specificity our work has important implications for the biotechnological applications of group II introns in bacterial gene targeting.

Novel DNA triangular pyrimidine derivatives are designed by metal decoration through replacement of H by Cu in the Watson–Crick hydrogen bond region. The DFT method is used to examine the coordination of triangle-arranged Cu with three pyrimidines in nonplanar three-bladed turbine geometries. The Cu···Cu cuprophilic bonds are ascribed to the partially occupied d orbitals without direct molecular orbital (MO) interactions. Four-center bonds depend on Cu–N/O bonds, which are contributed by p orbitals of N/O atoms along or perpendicular to the bond axis. The activity of frontier MOs is modulated, leading to the decrease of gaps, ionization potentials (IPs), and electron affinities (EAs) desired for the improvement of conductivity. The hole trapping ability is assured by virtue of the spin density distributed on Cu. On average, the single electron density is located on π orbitals of three aromatic base rings. There is paramagnetic electron delocalization on the inner d orbitals of triangle region. The analysis of electron localization function ELF-π and electrostatic potential maps reveals that the outer strong π–π stacking interaction together with the inner d orbital channel enable effective transduction of electrical signals along the Cu–DNA nanowires. The 3Cu-induced triangular pyrimidines have important potential applications as structural motifs of molecular electronic devices.

Information storage in chemical and biological systems involves recognition processes occurring at the molecular and macromolecular level. The implementation of a "code" can consist of multiple noncovalent interactions, which include hydrogen bonds, π-stacking, hydrophobic interactions, and appropriate molecular and supramolecular architectures. With the double-helical DNA structure stabilized by Watson-Crick hydrogen bond base-pairing and aryl π-π stacking interactions, nature provides to scientists an example of one of the most sophisticated supramolecular systems. Molecular organization using these types of processes has become a very powerful strategy for the construction of well-defined nanostructures. Self-assemblies using noncovalent interactions have been designed to build fibers, membranes, two-dimensional monolayers, hydro, organo gels, etc. This paper highlights the research presented at the workshop entitled DNA Supramolecular Assemblies, which was held in Avignon, France on 5-6 May 2004. In this article, we first focus on the recent progress achieved in the design of supramolecular self-assemblies that mimic the molecular recognition functionalities found with nucleic acids. Second, we present several synthetic-DNA supramolecular assemblies currently developed to transport nucleic acids into cells. The marriage of supramolecular chemistry with nucleic acids as illustrated through examples in this article will open new avenues for designing artificial molecular devices and expand the current repertoire of supramolecular assemblies available.

Wearable devices have now become virtual assistants, and the sports industry also aims in technological integration. The objective of this research article is to introduce a wearable device to detect and record the movement of a cricket player during his training session. The designed system collects the displacement and rotational information through a combination of accelerometer and gyroscope placed on the cricket bat. We propose a data-driven machine learning model which takes raw analog data as input for classifying the strokes. The algorithm used is the polynomial support vector machine, a supervised classification algorithm with 300 independent variables to enable accurate and real-time stroke classification. The system has a dedicated user interface for accessing these real-time details. This wearable embedded system does not require any cloud services as the complex analyses are performed in the processor itself. The player and the coach can get visual reference support, and the mistakes can be corrected during the training period itself. The device can detect the arm action of a cricket player with a success rate of 97%. The hardware is powered using a 10,000 mAh rechargeable battery.

Machine vision has demonstrated its usefulness in the livestock industry in terms of improving welfare in such areas as lameness detection and body condition scoring in dairy cattle. In this article, we present some promising results of applying state of the art object detection and classification techniques to insects, specifically Black Soldier Fly (BSF) and the domestic cricket, with the view of enabling automated processing for insect farming. We also present the low-cost “Insecto” Internet of Things (IoT) device, which provides environmental condition monitoring for temperature, humidity, CO2, air pressure, and volatile organic compound levels together with high resolution image capture. We show that we are able to accurately count and measure size of BSF larvae and also classify the sex of domestic crickets by detecting the presence of the ovipositor. These early results point to future work for enabling automation in the selection of desirable phenotypes for subsequent generations and for providing early alerts should environmental conditions deviate from desired values.

Social structure remains an equivocal term in (sport) sociology. Our understandings of its constitution and role in causally influencing behavior are arguably underdeveloped. Using a critical realist approach, this paper examined how structural entities and reflexive agency combined to influence behavior in an elite youth cricket context (e.g., athletes, coaches). A methodological bricolage was used to generate data and Elder-Vass’s theorizing provided the principal heuristic device. The analysis illustrated how coaches acted on behalf of norm circles in their attempts to shape dispositions of athletes. In turn, athletes engaged in a process of dialectical iteration between reflexive deliberation and (intersectional) dispositions, which influenced their social action in this organizational context. This study holds significance for researchers and practitioners concerned with social influence.

The clever designs of natural transducers are a great source of inspiration for man-made systems. At small length scales, there are many transducers in nature that we are now beginning to understand and learn from. Here, we present an example of such a transducer that is used by field crickets to produce their characteristic song. This transducer uses two distinct components—a file of discrete teeth and a plectrum that engages intermittently to produce a series of impulses forming the loading, and an approximately triangular membrane, called the harp, that acts as a resonator and vibrates in response to the impulse-train loading. The file-and-plectrum act as a frequency multiplier taking the low wing beat frequency as the input and converting it into an impulse-train of sufficiently high frequency close to the resonant frequency of the harp. The forced vibration response results in beats producing the characteristic sound of the cricket song. With careful measurements of the harp geometry and experimental measurements of its mechanical properties (Young's modulus determined from nanoindentation tests), we construct a finite element (FE) model of the harp and carry out modal analysis to determine its natural frequency. We fine tune the model with appropriate elastic boundary conditions to match the natural frequency of the harp of a particular species—Gryllus bimaculatus. We model impulsive loading based on a loading scheme reported in literature and predict the transient response of the harp. We show that the harp indeed produces beats and its frequency content matches closely that of the recorded song. Subsequently, we use our FE model to show that the natural design is quite robust to perturbations in the file. The characteristic song frequency produced is unaffected by variations in the spacing of file-teeth and even by larger gaps. Based on the understanding of how this natural transducer works, one can design and fabricate efficient microscale acoustic devices such as microelectromechanical systems (MEMS) loudspeakers.

We all grew up learning from experiments and observations, making sure that we learn and understand things with interaction. In India, we are more familiar with cricket and football than lawn-tennis or golf, or we all learn our mother tongue by being exposed to it. Imagine me having exposure to only indoor variety of games, would I develop a taste for outdoor games like cricket or football? This learning by exposure is also equally easily applicable on food, religion, language and other habits, which define a person, his thoughts and his habits. The larger question is whether we can weave a new habit without having an exposure. How do we know what we don’t know when our choices to know are restricted. In the increasing digital market of trans-boundary content, goods and services, the choices for us are often made by a super intelligent, biased algorithm, backed by immense computing power specifically designed to detect tastes of sports, food, music, living lifestyle, depending on the way we have used our smartphones, connected devices, location shares, search strings and photographs. We are aware that our browsers use cookies and trackers, and have ability to smartly direct us to the algorithm chosen choices. I would like to imagine a situation where our actions, emotions and urge to know is not used against us by directing us to content which fills up the void of our search with content that has been tailored to make us feel happy. This leads to a question whether we exercise the choices we actually want to exercise, or do we just go by the flow of algorithms to let it determine what we should experience? This is the question for today which has implications on how the global economy sustains and caters to its users.

This study provides an in-game prediction of the winner for Twenty20 (T20) cricket by focusing on the matches played in the Indian Premier League. For the analysis, data were collected from 812 completed matches played between 2008 and 2020. Initially, several candidate features were identified, and then the LASSO method was applied as a feature selection technique to identify the most important set of features. Based on the identified important features, predictions are provided for each stage of a match where a T20 match can consist of a maximum of 240 stages. For each stage, three classification models were formed using Naive Bayes, Logistic Regression and Support Vector Machines. The prediction accuracy was used for evaluating the findings of the study, and the prediction accuracy of each model indicates the ratio between the number of correctly predicted instances and the total number of predicted instances. Naive Bayes demonstrated prediction accuracies ranging from 53.08% to 91.76% between the first and the 240th stage of matches, whereas the accuracy of Logistic Regression varied from 56.92% to 97.65%. In comparison, Support Vector Machines also displayed comparable outcomes with a prediction accuracy of 55.00% at the first stage, and 90.59% at the 240th stage. Furthermore, a strategy generator that assists the competing teams in the second innings to devise winning strategies, is presented in this study alongside an interactive web-based application for making in-game predictions, and for assisting the end users (players and coaching/managing staff) in decision making, based on the generated winning strategies.

Abstract The chemically synthesizable quantum emitters such as quantum dots (QDs), fluorescent nanodiamonds (FNDs), and organic fluorescent dyes can be integrated with an easy-to-craft quantum nanophotonic device, which would be readily developed by non-lithographic solution process. As a representative example, the solution dipping or casting of such soft quantum emitters on a flat metal layer and subsequent drop-casting of plasmonic nanoparticles can afford the quantum emitter-coupled plasmonic nanocavity (referred to as a nanoparticle-on-mirror (NPoM) cavity), allowing us for exploiting various quantum mechanical behaviors of light–matter interactions such as quantum electrodynamics (QED), strong coupling (e.g., Rabi splitting), and quantum mirage. This versatile, yet effective soft quantum nanophotonics would be further benefitted from a deterministic control over the positions and orientations of each individual quantum emitter, particularly at the molecule level of resolution. In this review, we will argue that DNA nanotechnology can provide a gold vista toward this end. A collective set of exotic characteristics of DNA molecules, including Watson-Crick complementarity and helical morphology, enables reliable grabbing of quantum emitters at the on-demand position and steering of their directors at the single molecular level. More critically, the recent advances in large-scale integration of DNA origami have pushed the reliance on the distinctly well-formed single device to the regime of the ultra-scale device arrays, which is critical for promoting the practically immediate applications of such soft quantum nanophotonics.

AbstractPowerful information processing and ubiquitous computing are crucial for all machines and living organisms. The Watson-Crick base-pairing principle endows DNA with excellent recognition and assembly abilities, which facilitates the design of DNA computers for achieving intelligent systems. However, current DNA computational systems are always constrained by poor integration efficiency, complicated device structures or limited computational functions. Here, we show a DNA arithmetic logic unit (ALU) consisting of elemental DNA logic gates using polymerase-mediated strand displacement. The use of an enzyme resulted in highly efficient logic gates suitable for multiple and cascaded computation. Based on our basic single-rail DNA configuration, additional combined logic gates (e.g., a full adder and a 4:1 multiplexer) have been constructed. Finally, we integrate the gates and assemble the crucial ALU. Our strategy provides a facile strategy for assembling a large-scale complex DNA computer system, highlighting the great potential for programming the molecular behaviors of complicated biosystems.

AbstractProperly designed sequences of oligonucleotides can be employed as scaffolds or templates for the self-organization of nanostructures and devices, through the Watson-Crick base pairing mechanism which serves as a programmable smart glue. In this paper, we report the Platinum metallization of peptide nucleic acid (PNA) sequences for the first time. PNA is an analogue of DNA and has a neutral backbone which provides stronger hybridization, greater stability and higher specificity in base pairing. Pt ions were reduced from a salt solution and localized over the PNA fragments where the size of the Pt colloids depends on the duration of chemical reduction. Computations of the high lying occupied and lowlying unoccupied orbitals indicated that Pt nanoparticles bind easily on both the Thymine (T) bases and the backbone in the PNA.

Automata act as classical models for recognition devices. From the previous researches, the classical models of automata have been used to scan strings and to determine the types of languages a string belongs to. In the study of automata and group theory, it has been found that the properties of a group can be recognized by the automata using the automata diagrams. There are two types of automata used to study the properties of a group, namely modified finite automata and modified Watson-Crick finite automata. Thus, in this paper, automata diagrams are constructed to recognize permutation groups using the data given by the Cayley table. Thus, the properties of permutation group are analyzed using the automaton diagram that has been constructed. Moreover, some theorems for the properties of permutation group in term of automata are also given in this paper.

Objective: Appropriate animal models of atherosclerotic plaque are crucial for the investigation of the pathophysiology of atherosclerosis, as well as for the evaluation of the efficacy and safety of vascular devices. Therefore, we aimed to develop a novel animal model that would be suitable for the study of the advanced atherosclerotic lesions in vivo. Methods: Atherosclerotic plaque was induced in 32 sites of 8 mini-pigs by combining a high cholesterol diet, endothelial denudation, and injection into the vessel wall with either saline or inflammatory proteins (high-mobility group protein B1 [HMGB1] and tumor necrosis factor [TNF]-α) using a Cricket™ Micro-infusion catheter. In vivo imaging with optical coherence tomography (OCT) was performed to detect the plaque characteristics at follow-up after 10 weeks. All tissues were harvested for histological evaluation. Results: Intima area/plaque area tended to be higher in the HMGB1, and TNF-α groups compared to the saline injected group (p=0.015). Advanced plaques were more frequently observed in the group injected with inflammatory proteins. High degree inflammation occurred in inflammatory protein injected group compared to saline injected group it immunohistochemistry stain using HMGB1 (p<0.001), RAGE (p=0.003), TNF-α antibody (p<0.001) and CD68 antibody (p=0.005). Quantitative imaging evaluation at minimal lumen diameter and percentage of diameter stenosis were also not significantly different among all group. OCT demonstrated that lipid rich plaques were more frequently detected in the inflammatory protein group (saline group: 2/11 [18%], HMGB1 group: 9/11 [82%] and TNF-α group: 5/10 [50%]). Conclusion: Direct injection of inflammatory proteins into the vessel wall significantly increased inflammation occurrence and induced lipid rich plaques. These data indicate that this mini-pig model of atherosclerotic lesion formation via direct injection of pro-inflammatory proteins into the vessel wall is useful for in vivo studies investigating atherosclerosis. Key words: mini-pig model, atherosclerosis, balloon injury, inflammatory protein

Connections In Small Pieces Loosely Joined, David Weinberger identifies some of the obvious changes which the Web has brought to human relations. Social connections, he argues, used to be exclusively defined and constrained by the physics and physicality of the “real” world, or by geographical and material facts: it’s … true that we generally have to travel longer to get to places that are farther away; that to be heard at the back of the theater, you have to speak louder; that when a couple moves apart, their relationship changes; that if I give you something, I no longer have it. (xi) The Web, however, is a place (or many places) where the boundaries of space, time, and presence are being reworked. Further, since we built this virtual world ourselves and are constantly involved in its evolution, the Web can tell us much about who we are and how we relate to others. In Weinberger’s view, it demonstrates that “we are creatures who care about ourselves and the world we share with others”, and that “we live within a context of meaning” beyond what we had previously cared to imagine (xi-xii). Before the establishment of computer-mediated communication (CMC), we already had multiple means of connecting people commonly separated by space (Gitelman and Pingree). Yet the Web has allowed us to see each other whilst separated by great distances, to share stories, images and other media online, to co-construct or “produse” (Bruns) content and, importantly, to do so within groups, rather than merely between individuals (Weinberger 108). This optimistic evaluation of the Web and social relations is a response to some of the more cautious public voices that have accompanied recent technological developments. In the 1990s, Jan van Dijk raised concerns about what he anticipated as wide-reaching social consequences in the new “age of networks” (2). The network society, as van Dijk described it, was defined by new interconnections (chiefly via the World Wide Web), increased media convergence and narrowcasting, a spread of both social and media networks and the decline of traditional communities and forms of communication. Modern-day communities now consisted both of “organic” (physical) and “virtual” communities, with mediated communication seemingly beginning to replace, or at least supplement, face-to-face interaction (24). Recently, we have found ourselves on the verge of even more “interconnectedness” as the future seems determined by ubiquitous computing (ubicomp) and a new technological and cultural development known as the “Internet of Things” (Greenfield). Ubicomp refers to the integration of information technology into everyday objects and processes, to such an extent that the end-users are often unaware of the technology. According to Greenfield, ubicomp has significant potential to alter not only our relationship with technology, but the very fabric of our existence: A mobile phone … can be switched off or left at home. A computer … can be shut down, unplugged, walked away from. But the technology we're discussing here–ambient, ubiquitous, capable of insinuating itself into all the apertures everyday life affords it–will form our environment in a way neither of those technologies can. (6) Greenfield's ideas are neither hypothesis, nor hyperbole. Ubicomp is already a reality. Dodson notes, Ubicomp isn't just part of our ... future. Its devices and services are already here. Think of the use of prepaid smart cards for use of public transport or the tags displayed in our cars to help regulate congestion charge pricing or the way in which corporations track and move goods around the world. (7) The Internet of Things advances the ubicomp notion of objects embedded with the capacity to receive and transmit data and anticipates a move towards a society in which every device is “on” and in some way connected to the Internet; in other words, objects become networked. Information contained within and transmitted among networked objects becomes a “digital overlay” (Valhouli 2) over the physical world. Valhouli explains that objects, as well as geographical sites, become part of the Internet of Things in two ways. Information may become associated with a specific location using GPS coordinates or a street address. Alternatively, embedding sensors and transmitters into objects enables them to be addressed by Internet protocols, and to sense and react to their environments, as well as communicate with users or with other objects. (2) The Internet of Things is not a theoretical paradigm. It is a framework for describing contemporary technological processes, in which communication moves beyond the established realm of human interaction, to enable a whole range of potential communications: “person-to-device (e.g. scheduling, remote control, or status update), device-to-device, or device-to-grid” (Valhouli 2). Are these newer forms of communication in any sense meaningful? Currently, ubicomp's applications are largely functional, used in transport, security, and stock control. Yet, the possibilities afforded by the technology can be employed to enhance “connectedness” and “togetherness” in the broadest social sense. Most forms of technology have at least some social impact; this is particularly true of communication technology. How can that impact be made explicit? Here, we discuss one such potential application of ubicomp with reference to a new UK research project: TOTeM–Tales of Things and Electronic Memory. TOTeM aims to draw on personal narratives, digital media, and tagging to create an “Internet” of people, things, and object memories via Web 2.0 and mobile technologies. Communicating through Objects The TOTeM project, began in August 2009 and funded by Research Councils UK's Digital Economy Programme, is concerned with eliciting the memory and value of “old” artefacts, which are generally excluded from the discourse of the Internet of Things, which focuses on new and future objects produced with embedded sensors and transmitters. We focus instead on existing artefacts that hold significant personal resonance, not because they are particularly expensive or useful, but because they contain or “evoke” (Turkle) memories of people, places, times, events, or ideas. Objects across a mantelpiece can become conduits between events that happened in the past and people who will occupy the future (Miller 30). TOTeM will draw on user-generated content and innovative tagging technology to study the personal relationships between people and objects, and between people through objects. Our hypothesis is that the stories that are connected to particular objects can become binding ties between individuals, as they provide insights into personal histories and values that are usually not shared, not because they are somehow too personal or uninteresting, but because there is currently little systematic context for sharing them. Even in families, where objects routinely pass down through generations, the stories associated with these objects are generally either reduced to a vague anecdote or lost entirely. Beyond families, there are some objects whose stories are deemed culturally-significant: monuments, the possessions of historical figures, religious artefacts, and archaeological finds. The current value system which defines an object’s cultural significance appears to replicate Bourdieu's assessment of the hierarchies which define aesthetic concepts such as taste. In both cases, the popular, everyday, or otherwise mundane is deemed to possess less cultural capital than that which is less accessible or otherwise associated with the social elites. As a result, objects whose histories are well-known are mostly found in museums, untouchable and unused, whereas objects which are within reach, all around us, tend to travel from owner to owner without anyone considering what histories they might contain. TOTeM’s aim is to provide both a context and a mechanism for enabling individuals and community groups to share object-related stories and memories through digital media, via a custom-built platform of “tales of things”. Participants will be able to use real-life objects as conduits for memory, by producing “tales” about the object's personal significance, told through digital video, photographs, audio, or a mixture of media. These tales will be hosted on the TOTeM project's website. Through specifically-developed TOTeM technology, each object tale will generate a unique physical tag, initially in the form of RFID (Radio Frequency Identification) and QR (Quick Response) codes. TOTeM participants will be able to attach these tags/codes to their objects. When scanned with a mobile phone equipped with free TOTeM software or an RFID tag reader, each tag will access the individual object's tale online, playing the media files telling that object’s story on the mobile phone or computer. The object's user-created tale will be persistently accessible via both the Internet and 3G (third generation) mobile phones. The market share of 3G and 4G mobile networks is expanding, with some analysts predicting that they will account for 30% of the global mobile phone market by 2014 (Kawamoto). As the market for mobile phones with fast data transfer rates keeps growing, TOTeM will become accessible to an ever-growing number of mobile, as well as Internet, users. The TOTeM platform will serve two primary functions. It will become an archive for object memories and thus grow to become an “archaeology for the future”. We hope that future generations will be able to return to this repository and learn about the things that are meaningful to groups and individuals right now. The platform will also serve as an arena for contemporary communication. As the project develops, object memories will be directly accessible through tagged artefacts, as well as through browsing and keyword searches on the project website. Participants will be able to communicate via the TOTeM platform. On a practical level, the platform can bring together people who already share an interest in certain objects, times, or places (e.g. collectors, amateur historians, genealogists, as well as academics). In addition, we hope that the novelty of TOTeM’s approach to objects may encourage some of those individuals for whom non-participation in the digital world is not a question of access but one of apathy and perceived irrelevance (Ofcom 3). Tales of Things: Pilots Since the beginning of this research project, we have begun to construct the TOTeM platform and develop the associated tagging technology. While the TOTeM platform is being built, we have also used this time to conduct a pilot “tale-telling” phase, with the aim of exploring how people might choose to communicate object stories and how this might make them feel. In this initial phase, we focus on eliciting and constructing object tales, without the use of the TOTeM platform or the tagging technology, which will be tested in a future trial. Following Thomson and Holland’s autoethnographic approach, in the first instance, the TOTeM team and advisors shared their own tales with each other (some of these can be viewed on the TOTeM Website). Each of us chose an object that was personally significant to us, digitally recorded our object memories, and uploaded videos to a YouTube channel for discussion amongst the group. Team members in Edinburgh subsequently involved a group of undergraduate students in the pilot. Here, we offer some initial reflections on what we have learned from recording and sharing these early TOTeM tales. The objects the TOTeM team and advisors chose independently from each other included a birth tag, a box of slides, a tile, a block of surf wax, a sweet jar from Japan, a mobile phone, a concert ticket, a wrist band, a cricket bat, a watch, an iPhone, a piece of the Berlin Wall, an antique pocket sundial, and a daughter’s childhood toy. The sheer variety of the objects we selected as being personally significant was intriguing, as were the varying reasons for choosing the objects. Even there was some overlap in object choice, for instance between the mobile and the iPhone, the two items (one (relatively) old, one new) told conspicuously different stories. The mobile held the memory of a lost friend via an old text message; the iPhone was valued not only for its practical uses, but because it symbolised the incarnation of two childhood sci-fi fantasies: a James Bond-inspired tracking device (GPS) and the “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”. While the memories and stories linked to these objects were in many ways idiosyncratic, some patterns have emerged even at this early stage. Stories broadly differed in terms of whether they related to an individual’s personal experience (e.g. memorable moments or times in one’s life) or to their connection with other people. They could also relate to the memory of particular events, from football matches, concerts and festivals on a relatively local basis, to globally significant milestones, such as the fall of the Berlin Wall. In many cases, objects had been kept as tokens and reminders of particularly “colourful” and happy times. One student presented a wooden stick which he had picked up from a beach on his first parent-free “lads’ holiday”. Engraved on the stick were the names of the friends who had accompanied him on this memorable trip. Objects could also mark the beginning or end of a personal life stretch: for one student, his Dub Child vinyl record symbolised the moment he discovered and began to understand experimental music; it also constituted a reminder of the influence his brother had had on his musical taste. At other times, objects were significant because they served as mementos for people who had been “lost” in one way or another, either because they had moved to different places, or because they had gone missing or passed away. With some, there was a sense that the very nature of the object enabled the act of holding on to a memory in a particular way. The aforementioned mobile phone, though usually out of use, was actively recharged for the purposes of remembering. Similarly, an unused wind-up watch was kept going to simultaneously keep alive the memory of its former owner. It is commonly understood that the sharing of insights into one’s personal life provides one way of building and maintaining social relationships (Greene et al.). Self-disclosure, as it is known in psychological terms, carries some negative connotations, such as making oneself vulnerable to the judgement of others or giving away “too much too soon”. Often its achievement is dependent on timing and context. We were surprised by the extent to which some of us chose to disclose quite sensitive information with full knowledge of eventually making these stories public online. At the same time, as both researchers and, in a sense, as an audience, we found it a humbling experience to be allowed into people’s and objects’ meaningful pasts and presents. It is obvious that the invitation to talk about meaningful objects also results in stories about things and people we deeply care about. We have yet to see what shape the TOTeM platform will take as more people share their stories and learn about those of others. We don’t know whether it will be taken up as a fully-fledged communication platform or merely as an archive for object memories, whether people will continue to share what seem like deep insights into personal life stories, or if they choose to make more subversive (no less meaningful) contributions. Likewise, it is yet to be seen how the linking of objects with personal stories through tagging could impact people’s relationships with both the objects and the stories they contain. To us, this initial trial phase, while small in scale, has re-emphasised the potential of sharing object memories in the emerging network of symbolic meaning (Weinberger’s “context of meaning”). Seemingly everyday objects did turn out to contain stories behind them, personal stories which people were willing to share. Returning to Weinberger’s quote with which we began this article, TOTeM will enable the traces of material experiences and relationships to become persistently accessible: giving something away would no longer mean entirely not having it, as the narrative of the object’s significance would persist, and can be added to by future participants. Indeed, TOTeM would enable participants to “give away” more than just the object, while retaining access to the tale which would augment the object. Greenfield ends his discussion of the potential of ubicomp by listing multiple experiences which he does not believe would benefit from any technological augmentation: Going for a long run in the warm gentle rain, gratefully and carefully easing my body into the swelter of a hot springs, listening to the first snowfall of winter, savouring the texture of my wife’s lips … these are all things that require little or no added value by virtue of being networked, relational, correlated to my other activities. They’re already perfect, just as they stand. (258) It is a resonant set of images, and most people would be able to produce a similar list of meaningful personal experiences. Yet, as we have already suggested, technology and meaning need not be mutually exclusive. Indeed, as the discussion of TOTeM begins to illustrate, the use of new technologies in new contexts can augment the commercial applications of ubiquoutous computing with meaningful human communication. At the time of writing, the TOTeM platform is in the later stages of development. We envisage the website taking shape and its content becoming more and more meaningful over time. However, some initial object memories should be available from April 2010, and the TOTeM platform and mobile tagging applications will be fully operational in the summer of 2010. Our progress can be followed on www.youtotem.com and http://twitter.com/talesofthings. TOTeM looks forward to receiving “tales of things” from across the world. References Bourdieu, Pierre. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. London: Routledge, 1984.Bruns, Axel. “The Future is User-Led: The Path towards Widespread Produsage.” fibreculture 11 (2008). 20 Mar. 2010 ‹http://www.journal.fibreculture.org/issue11/issue11_bruns_print.html›. Dodson, Sean. “Forward: A Tale of Two Cities.” Rob van Kranenburg. The Internet of Things: A Critique of Ambient Technology and the All-Seeing Network of RFID. Amsterdam: Institute of Network Cultures, Network Notebooks 02, 2008. 5-9. 20 Mar. 2010 ‹http://www.networkcultures.org/_uploads/notebook2_theinternetofthings.pdf›. Gitelman, Lisa, and Geoffrey B. Pingree. Eds. New Media: 1740-1915. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2003. Greene, Kathryn, Valerian Derlega, and Alicia Mathews. “Self-Disclosure in Personal Relationships.” Ed. Anita L. Vangelisti and Daniel Perlman. Cambridge Handbook of Personal Relationships. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2006. 409-28. Greenfield, Adam. Everyware: The Dawning Age of Ubiquitous Computing. Berkeley, CA: New Riders, 2006. Kawamoto, Dawn. “Report: 3G and 4G Market Share on the Rise.” CNET News 2009. 20 Mar. 2010 ‹http://news.cnet.com/8301-1035_3-10199185-94.html›. Kwint, Marius, Christopher Breward, and Jeremy Aynsley. Material Memories: Design and Evocation. Oxford: Berg, 1999. Miller, Daniel. The Comfort of Things. Cambridge: Polity Press, 2008. Ofcom. ”Accessing the Internet at Home”. 2009. 20 Mar. 2010 ‹http://www.ofcom.org.uk/research/telecoms/reports/bbresearch/bbathome.pdf›. Thomson, Rachel, and Janet Holland. “‘Thanks for the Memory’: Memory Books as a Methodological Resource in Biographical Research.” Qualitative Research 5.2 (2005): 201-19. Turkle, Sherry. Evocative Objects: Things We Think With. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2007. Valhouli, Constantine A. The Internet of Things: Networked Objects and Smart Devices. The Hammersmith Group Research Report, 2010. 20 Mar. 2010 ‹http://thehammersmithgroup.com/images/reports/networked_objects.pdf›. Van Dijk, Jan. The Network Society: Social Aspects of New Media. London: SAGE, 1999. Weinberger, David. Small Pieces Loosely Joined: How the Web Shows Us Who We Really Are. Oxford: Perseus Press, 2002.

Background information Sandscript was programmed with the web application « Tchat-scene », created by Carol-Ann Braun and the computer services company Timsoft (). It organizes a data-base of raw material into compositions and sequences allowing to build larger episodes. Multimedia resources are thus attributed to frames surrounding the chat space or to the chat space itself, thus “augmented” to include pre-written texts and graphics. Sandscript works best on a PC, with Internet Explorer. On Mac, use 0S9 and Internet Explorer. You will have to download a chat application for the site to function. Coded conversation General opinion would have it that chat space is a conversational space, facilitating rather than complicating communication. Writing in a chat space is very much influenced by the current ideological stance which sees collaborative spaces as places to make friends, speak freely, flip from one “channel” to another, link with a simple click into related themes, etc. Moreover, chat users tend to think of the chat screen in terms of a white page, an essentially neutral environment. A quick analysis of chat practices reveals a different scenario: chat spaces are highly coded typographical writing spaces, quick to exclude those who don’t abide by the technical and procedural constraints associated with computer reading/writing tools (Despret-Lonné, Gentès). Chatters seek to belong to a “community;” conversely, every chat has “codes” which restrict its membership to the like-minded. The patterns of exchange characteristic of chats are phatic (Jakobson), and their primary purpose is to get and maintain a social link. It is no surprise then that chatters should emphasize two skills: one related to rhetorical ingenuity, the other to dexterity and speed of writing. To belong, one first has to grasp the banter, then manage very quickly the rules and rituals of the group, then answer by mastering the intricacies of the keyboard and its shortcuts. Speed is compulsory if your answers are to follow the communal chat; as a result, sentences tend to be very short, truncated bits, dispatched in a continuous flow. Sandscript attempts to play with the limits of this often hermetic writing process (and the underlying questions of affinity, participation and reciprocity). It opens up a social space to an artistic and fictional space, each with rules of its own. Hyper-linked dialogue Sandscript is not just about people chatting, it is also about influencing the course of these exchanges. The site weaves pre-scripted poetic content into the spontaneous, real-time dialogue of chatters. Smileys and the plethora of abbreviations, punctuations and icons characteristic of chat rooms are mixed in with typographical games that develop the idea of text as image and text as sound — using Morse Code to make text resonate, CB code to evoke its spoken use, and graphic elements within the chat space itself to oppose keyboard text and handwritten graffiti. The web site encourages chatters to broaden the scope of their “net-speak,” and take a playfully conscious stance towards their own familiar practices. Actually, most of the writing in this web-site is buried in the database. Two hundred or so “key words” — expressions typical of phatic exchanges, in addition to other words linked to the idea of sandstorms and archeology — lie dormant, inactive and unseen until a chatter inadvertently types one in. These keywords bridge the gap between spontaneous exchange and multimedia content: if someone types in “hi,” an image of a face, half buried in sand, pops up in a floating window and welcomes you, silently; if someone types in the word “wind,” a typewritten “wind” floats out into the graphic environment and oscillates between the left and right edges of the frames; typing the word “no” “magically” triggers the intervention of an anarchist who says something provocative*. *Sandscript works like a game of ping-pong among chatters who are intermittently surprised by a comment “out of nowhere.” The chat space, augmented by a database, forms an ever-evolving, fluid “back-bone” around which artistic content is articulated. Present in the form of programs who participate in their stead, artists share the spot light, adding another level of mediation to a collective writing process. Individual and collective identities Not only does Sandscript accentuate the multimedia aspects of typed chat dialogues, it also seeks to give a “ shape” to the community of assembled chatters. This shape is musical: along with typing in a nickname of her choice, each chatter is attributed a sound. Like crickets in a field, each sound adds to the next to create a collective presence, modified with every new arrival and departure. For example, if your nick is “yoyo-mama,” your presence will be associated with a low, electronic purr. When “pillX” shows up, his nick will be associated with a sharp violin chord. When “mojo” pitches in, she adds her sound profile to the lot, and the overall environment changes again. Chatters can’t hear the clatter of each other’s keyboards, but they hear the different rhythms of their musical identities. The repeated pings of people present in the same “scape” reinforce the idea of community in a world where everything typed is swept away by the next bit of text, soon to be pushed off-screen in turn. The nature of this orchestrated collective presence is determined by the artists and their programs, not by the chatters themselves, whose freedom is limited to switching from one nick to another to test the various sounds associated with each. Here, identity is both given and built, both individual and collective, both a matter of choice and pre-defined rules. (Goffman) Real or fictitious characters The authors introduce simulated bits of dialogue within the flow of written conversation. Some of these fake dialogues simply echo whatever keywords chatters might type. Others, however, point else where, suggesting a hyper-link to a more elaborate fictionalized drama among “characters.” Sandscript also hides a plot. Once chatters realize that there are strange goings on in their midst, they become caught in the shifting sands of this web site’s inherent duality. They can completely lose their footing: not only do they have to position themselves in relation to other, real people (however disguised…) but they also have to find their bearings in the midst of a database of fake interlocutors. Not only are they expected to “write” in order to belong, they are also expected to unearth content in order to be “in the know.” A hybridized writing is required to maintain this ambivalence in place. Sandscript’s fake dialogue straddles two worlds: it melds in with the real-time small talk of chatters all while pointing to elements in a fictional narrative. For example, “mojo” will say: “silting up here ”, and “zano” will answer “10-4, what now? ” These two characters could be banal chatters, inviting others to join in their sarcastic banter… But they are also specifically referring to incidents in their fictional world. The “chat code” not only addresses its audience, it implies that something else is going on that merits a “click” or a question. “Clicking” at this juncture means more than just quickly responding to what another chatter might have typed. It implies stopping the banter and delving into the details of a character developed at greater length elsewhere. Indeed, in Sandscript, each fictional dialogue is linked to a blog that reinforces each character’s personality traits and provides insights into the web-site’s wind-swept, self-erasing world. Interestingly enough, Sandscript then reverses this movement towards a closed fictional space by having each character not only write about himself, but relate her immediate preoccupations to the larger world. Each blog entry mentions a character’s favorite URL at that particular moment. One character might evoke a web site about romantic poetry, another one on anarchist political theory, a third a web-site on Morse code, etc… Chatters click on the URL and open up an entirely new web-site, directly related to the questions being discussed in Sandscript. Thus, each character represents himself as well as a point of view on the larger world of the web. Fiction opens onto a “real” slice of cyber-space and the work of other authors and programmers. Sandscript mixes up different types of on-line identities, emphasizing that representations of people on the web are neither “true” nor “false.” They are simply artificial and staged, simple facets of identities which shift in style and rhetoric depending on the platform available to them. Again, identity is both closed by our social integration and opened to singular “play.” Conclusion: looking at and looking through One could argue that since the futurists staged their “electrical theater” in the streets of Turin close to a hundred years ago, artists have worked on the blurry edge between recognizable formal structures and their dissolution into life itself. And after a century of avant-gardes, self-referential appropriations of mass media are also second nature. Juxtaposing one “use” along another reveals how different frames of reference include or exclude each other in unexpected ways. For the past twenty years much artwork has which fallen in between genres, and most recently in the realm of what Nicolas Bourriaud calls “relational aesthetics.” Such work is designed not only to draw attention to itself but also to the spectator’s relation to it and the broader artistic context which infuses the work with additional meaning. By having dialogue serve as a hyper-link to multimedia content, Sandscript, however, does more. Even though some changes in the web site are pre-programmed to occur automatically, not much happens without the chatters, who occupy center-stage and trigger the appearance of a latent content. Chatters are the driving force, they are the ones who make text appear and flow off-screen, who explore links, who exchange information, and who decide what pops up and doesn’t. Here, the art “object” reveals its different facets around a multi-layered, on-going conversation, subjected to the “flux” of an un-formulated present. Secondly, Sandscript demands that we constantly vary our posture towards the work: getting involved in conversation to look through the device, all while taking some distance to consider the object and look at its content and artistic “mediations.” (Bolster and Grusin, Manovitch). This tension is at the heart of Sandscript, which insists on being both a communication device “transparent” to its user, and an artistic device that imposes an opaque and reflexive quality. The former is supposed to disappear behind its task; the latter attracts the viewer’s attention over and over again, ever open to new interpretations. This approach is not without pitfalls. One Sandscript chatter wondered if as the authors of the web-site were not disappointed when conversation took the upper hand, and chatters ignored the graphics. On the other hand, the web site’s explicit status as a chat space was quickly compromised when users stopped being interested in each other and turned to explore the different layers hidden within the interface. In the end, Sandscript chatters are not bound to any single one of these modes. They can experience one and then other, and —why not —both simultaneously. This hybrid posture brings to mind Herman’s metaphor of a door that cannot be closed entirely: “la porte joue” —the door “gives.” It is not perfectly fitted and closed — there is room for “play.” Such openness requires that the artistic device provide two seemingly contradictory ways of relating to it: a desire to communicate seamlessly all while being fascinated by every seam in the representational space projected on-screen. Sandscript is supposed to “run” and “not run” at the same time; it exemplifies the technico-semiotic logic of speed and resists it full stop. Here, openness is not ontological; it is experiential, shifting. About the Authors Carol-Ann Braun is multimedia artist, at the Ecole Nationale Superieure des Telecomunications, Paris, France. EmaiL: carol-ann.braun@wanadoo.fr Annie Gentes is media theorist and professor at the Ecole Nationale Superieure des Telecomunications, Paris, France. Email: Annie.Gentes@enst.fr Works Cited Adamowicz, Elza. Surrealist Collage in Text and Image, Dissecting the Exquisite Corpse. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Augé, Marc. Non-lieux, Introduction à une Anthropologie de la Surmodernité. Paris: Seuil, 1992. Bolter, Jay David and Richard Grusin. Remediation, Understanding New Media. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2000. Bourriaud, Nicholas. Esthétique Relationnelle. Paris: Les Presses du Réel, 1998. Despret-Lonnet, Marie and Annie Gentes, Lire, Ecrire, Réécrire. Paris: Bibliothèque Centre Pompidou, 2003. Goffman, Irving. Interaction Ritual. New York: Pantheon, 1967. Habermas, Jürgen. Théorie de l’Agir Communicationnel, Vol.1. Paris: Fayard, 1987. Herman, Jacques. “Jeux et Rationalité.” Encyclopedia Universalis, 1997. Jakobson, Roman.“Linguistics and Poetics: Closing statements,” in Thomas Sebeok. Style in Language. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1960. Latzko-Toth, Guillaume. “L’Internet Relay Chat, Un Cas Exemplaire de Dispositif Socio-technique,” in Composite. Montreal: Université du Québec à Montréal, 2001. Lyotard, Jean-François. La Condition Post-Moderne. Paris: les Editions de Minuit, 1979. Manovitch, Lev. The Language of New Media. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2001. Michaud, Yves. L’Art à l’Etat Gazeux. Essai sur le Triomphe de l’Esthétique, Les essais. Paris: Stock, 2003. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Braun, Carol-Ann & Gentes, Annie. "Dialogue: a hyper-link to multimedia content." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0406/05_Braun-Gentes.php>. APA Style Braun, C. & Gentes, A. (2004, Jul1). Dialogue: a hyper-link to multimedia content.. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture, 7, <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0406/05_Braun-Gentes.php>

Mobile In many countries, more people have mobile phones than they do fixed-line phones. Mobile phones are one of the fastest growing technologies ever, outstripping even the internet in many respects. With the advent and widespread deployment of digital systems, mobile phones were used by an estimated 1, 158, 254, 300 people worldwide in 2002 (up from approximately 91 million in 1995), 51. 4% of total telephone subscribers (ITU). One of the reasons for this is mobility itself: the ability for people to talk on the phone wherever they are. The communicative possibilities opened up by mobile phones have produced new uses and new discourses (see Katz and Aakhus; Brown, Green, and Harper; and Plant). Contemporary soundscapes now feature not only voice calls in previously quiet public spaces such as buses or restaurants but also the aural irruptions of customised polyphonic ringtones identifying whose phone is ringing by the tune downloaded. The mobile phone plays an important role in contemporary visual and material culture as fashion item and status symbol. Most tragically one might point to the tableau of people in the twin towers of the World Trade Centre, or aboard a plane about to crash, calling their loved ones to say good-bye (Galvin). By contrast, one can look on at the bathos of Australian cricketer Shane Warne’s predilection for pressing his mobile phone into service to arrange wanted and unwanted assignations while on tour. In this article, I wish to consider another important and so far also under-theorised aspect of mobile phones: text. Of contemporary textual and semiotic systems, mobile text is only a recent addition. Yet it is already produces millions of inscriptions each day, and promises to be of far-reaching significance. Txt Txt msg ws an acidnt. no 1 expcted it. Whn the 1st txt msg ws sent, in 1993 by Nokia eng stdnt Riku Pihkonen, the telcom cpnies thought it ws nt important. SMS – Short Message Service – ws nt considrd a majr pt of GSM. Like mny teks, the *pwr* of txt — indeed, the *pwr* of the fon — wz discvrd by users. In the case of txt mssng, the usrs were the yng or poor in the W and E. (Agar 105) As Jon Agar suggests in Constant Touch, textual communication through mobile phone was an after-thought. Mobile phones use radio waves, operating on a cellular system. The first such mobile service went live in Chicago in December 1978, in Sweden in 1981, in January 1985 in the United Kingdom (Agar), and in the mid-1980s in Australia. Mobile cellular systems allowed efficient sharing of scarce spectrum, improvements in handsets and quality, drawing on advances in science and engineering. In the first instance, technology designers, manufacturers, and mobile phone companies had been preoccupied with transferring telephone capabilities and culture to the mobile phone platform. With the growth in data communications from the 1960s onwards, consideration had been given to data capabilities of mobile phone. One difficulty, however, had been the poor quality and slow transfer rates of data communications over mobile networks, especially with first-generation analogue and early second-generation digital mobile phones. As the internet was widely and wildly adopted in the early to mid-1990s, mobile phone proponents looked at mimicking internet and online data services possibilities on their hand-held devices. What could work on a computer screen, it was thought, could be reinvented in miniature for the mobile phone — and hence much money was invested into the wireless access protocol (or WAP), which spectacularly flopped. The future of mobiles as a material support for text culture was not to lie, at first at least, in aping the world-wide web for the phone. It came from an unexpected direction: cheap, simple letters, spelling out short messages with strange new ellipses. SMS was built into the European Global System for Mobile (GSM) standard as an insignificant, additional capability. A number of telecommunications manufacturers thought so little of the SMS as not to not design or even offer the equipment needed (the servers, for instance) for the distribution of the messages. The character sets were limited, the keyboards small, the typeface displays rudimentary, and there was no acknowledgement that messages were actually received by the recipient. Yet SMS was cheap, and it offered one-to-one, or one-to-many, text communications that could be read at leisure, or more often, immediately. SMS was avidly taken up by young people, forming a new culture of media use. Sending a text message offered a relatively cheap and affordable alternative to the still expensive timed calls of voice mobile. In its early beginnings, mobile text can be seen as a subcultural activity. The text culture featured compressed, cryptic messages, with users devising their own abbreviations and grammar. One of the reasons young people took to texting was a tactic of consolidating and shaping their own shared culture, in distinction from the general culture dominated by their parents and other adults. Mobile texting become involved in a wider reworking of youth culture, involving other new media forms and technologies, and cultural developments (Butcher and Thomas). Another subculture that also was in the vanguard of SMS was the Deaf ‘community’. Though the Alexander Graham Bell, celebrated as the inventor of the telephone, very much had his hearing-impaired wife in mind in devising a new form of communication, Deaf people have been systematically left off the telecommunications network since this time. Deaf people pioneered an earlier form of text communications based on the Baudot standard, used for telex communications. Known as teletypewriter (TTY), or telecommunications device for the Deaf (TDD) in the US, this technology allowed Deaf people to communicate with each other by connecting such devices to the phone network. The addition of a relay service (established in Australia in the mid-1990s after much government resistance) allows Deaf people to communicate with hearing people without TTYs (Goggin & Newell). Connecting TTYs to mobile phones have been a vexed issue, however, because the digital phone network in Australia does not allow compatibility. For this reason, and because of other features, Deaf people have become avid users of SMS (Harper). An especially favoured device in Europe has been the Nokia Communicator, with its hinged keyboard. The move from a ‘restricted’, ‘subcultural’ economy to a ‘general’ economy sees mobile texting become incorporated in the semiotic texture and prosaic practices of everyday life. Many users were already familiar with the new conventions already developed around electronic mail, with shorter, crisper messages sent and received — more conversation-like than other correspondence. Unlike phone calls, email is asynchronous. The sender can respond immediately, and the reply will be received with seconds. However, they can also choose to reply at their leisure. Similarly, for the adept user, SMS offers considerable advantages over voice communications, because it makes textual production mobile. Writing and reading can take place wherever a mobile phone can be turned on: in the street, on the train, in the club, in the lecture theatre, in bed. The body writes differently too. Writing with a pen takes a finger and thumb. Typing on a keyboard requires between two and ten fingers. The mobile phone uses the ‘fifth finger’ — the thumb. Always too early, and too late, to speculate on contemporary culture (Morris), it is worth analyzing the textuality of mobile text. Theorists of media, especially television, have insisted on understanding the specific textual modes of different cultural forms. We are familiar with this imperative, and other methods of making visible and decentring structures of text, and the institutions which animate and frame them (whether author or producer; reader or audience; the cultural expectations encoded in genre; the inscriptions in technology). In formal terms, mobile text can be described as involving elision, great compression, and open-endedness. Its channels of communication physically constrain the composition of a very long single text message. Imagine sending James Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake in one text message. How long would it take to key in this exemplar of the disintegration of the cultural form of the novel? How long would it take to read? How would one navigate the text? Imagine sending the Courier-Mail or Financial Review newspaper over a series of text messages? The concept of the ‘news’, with all its cultural baggage, is being reconfigured by mobile text — more along the lines of the older technology of the telegraph, perhaps: a few words suffices to signify what is important. Mobile textuality, then, involves a radical fragmentation and unpredictable seriality of text lexia (Barthes). Sometimes a mobile text looks singular: saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’, or sending your name and ID number to obtain your high school or university results. Yet, like a telephone conversation, or any text perhaps, its structure is always predicated upon, and haunted by, the other. Its imagined reader always has a mobile phone too, little time, no fixed address (except that hailed by the network’s radio transmitter), and a finger poised to respond. Mobile text has structure and channels. Yet, like all text, our reading and writing of it reworks those fixities and makes destabilizes our ‘clear’ communication. After all, mobile textuality has a set of new pre-conditions and fragilities. It introduces new sorts of ‘noise’ to signal problems to annoy those theorists cleaving to the Shannon and Weaver linear model of communication; signals often drop out; there is a network confirmation (and message displayed) that text messages have been sent, but no system guarantee that they have been received. Our friend or service provider might text us back, but how do we know that they got our text message? Commodity We are familiar now with the pleasures of mobile text, the smile of alerting a friend to our arrival, celebrating good news, jilting a lover, making a threat, firing a worker, flirting and picking-up. Text culture has a new vector of mobility, invented by its users, but now coveted and commodified by businesses who did not see it coming in the first place. Nimble in its keystrokes, rich in expressivity and cultural invention, but relatively rudimentary in its technical characteristics, mobile text culture has finally registered in the boardrooms of communications companies. Not only is SMS the preferred medium of mobile phone users to keep in touch with each other, SMS has insinuated itself into previously separate communication industries arenas. In 2002-2003 SMS became firmly established in television broadcasting. Finally, interactive television had arrived after many years of prototyping and being heralded. The keenly awaited back-channel for television arrives courtesy not of cable or satellite television, nor an extra fixed-phone line. It’s the mobile phone, stupid! Big Brother was not only a watershed in reality television, but also in convergent media. Less obvious perhaps than supplementary viewing, or biographies, or chat on Big Brother websites around the world was the use of SMS for voting. SMS is now routinely used by mainstream television channels for viewer feedback, contest entry, and program information. As well as its widespread deployment in broadcasting, mobile text culture has been the language of prosaic, everyday transactions. Slipping into a café at Bronte Beach in Sydney, why not pay your parking meter via SMS? You’ll even receive a warning when your time is up. The mobile is becoming the ‘electronic purse’, with SMS providing its syntax and sentences. The belated ingenuity of those fascinated by the economics of mobile text has also coincided with a technological reworking of its possibilities, with new implications for its semiotic possibilities. Multimedia messaging (MMS) has now been deployed, on capable digital phones (an instance of what has been called 2.5 generation [G] digital phones) and third-generation networks. MMS allows images, video, and audio to be communicated. At one level, this sort of capability can be user-generated, as in the popularity of mobiles that take pictures and send these to other users. Television broadcasters are also interested in the capability to send video clips of favourite programs to viewers. Not content with the revenues raised from millions of standard-priced SMS, and now MMS transactions, commercial participants along the value chain are keenly awaiting the deployment of what is called ‘premium rate’ SMS and MMS services. These services will involve the delivery of desirable content via SMS and MMS, and be priced at a premium. Products and services are likely to include: one-to-one textchat; subscription services (content delivered on handset); multi-party text chat (such as chat rooms); adult entertainment services; multi-part messages (such as text communications plus downloads); download of video or ringtones. In August 2003, one text-chat service charged $4.40 for a pair of SMS. Pwr At the end of 2003, we have scarcely registered the textual practices and systems in mobile text, a culture that sprang up in the interstices of telecommunications. It may be urgent that we do think about the stakes here, as SMS is being extended and commodified. There are obvious and serious policy issues in premium rate SMS and MMS services, and questions concerning the political economy in which these are embedded. Yet there are cultural questions too, with intricate ramifications. How do we understand the effects of mobile textuality, rewriting the telephone book for this new cultural form (Ronell). What are the new genres emerging? And what are the implications for cultural practice and policy? Does it matter, for instance, that new MMS and 3rd generation mobile platforms are not being designed or offered with any-to-any capabilities in mind: allowing any user to upload and send multimedia communications to other any. True, as the example of SMS shows, the inventiveness of users is difficult to foresee and predict, and so new forms of mobile text may have all sorts of relationships with content and communication. However, there are worrying signs of these developing mobile circuits being programmed for narrow channels of retail purchase of cultural products rather than open-source, open-architecture, publicly usable nodes of connection. Works Cited Agar, Jon. Constant Touch: A Global History of the Mobile Phone. Cambridge: Icon, 2003. Barthes, Roland. S/Z. Trans. Richard Miller. New York: Hill & Wang, 1974. Brown, Barry, Green, Nicola, and Harper, Richard, eds. Wireless World: Social, Cultural, and Interactional Aspects of the Mobile Age. London: Springer Verlag, 2001. Butcher, Melissa, and Thomas, Mandy, eds. Ingenious: Emerging youth cultures in urban Australia. Melbourne: Pluto, 2003. Galvin, Michael. ‘September 11 and the Logistics of Communication.’ Continuum: Journal of Media and Cultural Studies 17.3 (2003): 303-13. Goggin, Gerard, and Newell, Christopher. Digital Disability: The Social Construction of Digital in New Media. Lanham, MA: Rowman & Littlefield, 2003. Harper, Phil. ‘Networking the Deaf Nation.’ Australian Journal of Communication 30. 3 (2003), in press. International Telecommunications Union (ITU). ‘Mobile Cellular, subscribers per 100 people.’ World Telecommunication Indicators <http://www.itu.int/ITU-D/ict/statistics/> accessed 13 October 2003. Katz, James E., and Aakhus, Mark, eds. Perpetual Contact: Mobile Communication, Private Talk, Public Performance. Cambridge: Cambridge U P, 2002. Morris, Meaghan. Too Soon, Too Late: History in Popular Culture. Bloomington and Indianapolis: U of Indiana P, 1998. Plant, Sadie. On the Mobile: The Effects of Mobile Telephones on Social and Individual Life. < http://www.motorola.com/mot/documents/0,1028,296,00.pdf> accessed 5 October 2003. Ronell, Avital. The Telephone Book: Technology—schizophrenia—electric speech. Lincoln: U of Nebraska P, 1989. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Goggin, Gerard. "‘mobile text’" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0401/03-goggin.php>. APA Style Goggin, G. (2004, Jan 12). ‘mobile text’. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture, 7, <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0401/03-goggin.php>

In the HBO series The Sopranos, Tony and his friends use “prosthetic memories” to anchor their ethnic and criminal identities. Prosthetic memories were theorised by Alison Landsberg in her book Prosthetic Memory: The Transformation of American Remembrance in the Age of Mass Culture. She argues that prosthetic memories are memories acquired through the mass media and do not come from a person’s lived experience in any sense (Landsberg 20). In this article, I will outline how The Sopranos television show and its characters interact with prosthetic memories. Extending Christopher Kocela’s work on The Sopranos and white ethnicities, I will show how characters use prosthetic memories to define their ethnicity while the show itself knowingly plays with this to provide comedic and critical commentary about the influence of gangster stereotypes. According to Landsberg, prosthetic memories are powerful memories of historical events or narratives that an individual was not present for. They are typically formed at the "interface between a personal and historical narrative about the past at an experiential site such as a movie theatre or museum" (2). It is at such a moment that a person can suture themselves into a larger history. Consequently, these memories do not just enhance an individual’s apprehension of a historical event. Rather, they create a deeply felt personal memory of a past event through which they did not live (Landsberg 4). Prosthetic memories are largely made available through the technologies of mass culture such as film, television and experiential places like museums. Their accessibility helps to differentiate them from other cultural strategies for passing on memories to future generations. Other strategies have typically been rooted in the cultural or racial status of an individual (Landsberg 22). In addition, Landsberg asserts that the successfulness of mnemotechnic rituals like the Jewish Passover Seder is dependent on ethnicity (26). Similarly, Walter Benn Michaels concludes that these rituals can only be effective if the individual has “some prior assumption of identity between you and them and this assumption is often racial” (680). Contrastingly, the perpetuation of prosthetic memories through mass media makes them widely accessible across racial lines. According to Landsberg, they are not “naturally- ethnically, racially or biologically- one’s intended inheritance” (26). Prosthetic memories introduce the possibility that memories can be acquired by anyone. The technologies of mass culture make these memories portable and as such, challenges the assumption that memory is “in anyway essential or organically grounded or the private property of a specific ethnic or racial group” (27). In The Sopranos, most characters are third or fourth generation Italian immigrants. Much like for many ‘real’ Italian migrants, time has severed familial connections to their homeland (see Landsberg 49-55). Landsberg suggests that immigrants initially became Americanised in order to escape persecution and being labelled as “other” (51). This meant that ethnically exclusive mnemotechnic rituals were not preserved for subsequent generations of immigrants. In order to sustain an ethnic identity, immigrants (and the characters in The Sopranos) have been forced to turn to more accessible tools like prosthetic memories. Christopher Kocela’s analysis of Italian-Americanness in The Sopranos, argues that characters maintain an Italian American ethnicity while still racially identifying as white. According to Colin Webster “white ethnicity” can be best exemplified through the long tradition of European immigration to America (295). With the influx of immigrants, there was a codification of the idea that “some whites are ‘whiter’ than others” (Webster 297). European working-class immigrants struggled to be afforded the same white “privileges” and membership to the white race. Instead, they were defined as being members of “other” white ethnicities. Roediger argued that such a denial of whiteness pushed European immigrants to insist on their own whiteness by defining themselves against other ethnic minorities like African Americans (8). Between 1890 and 1945, eventual assimilation saw white ethnicities become “fully white” (Roediger 8). Webster argues that: “In this sense, whiteness is nearly always salvageable in a way that black, Mexican, Asian, and Native American ethnicity is not (sic)” (Webster 297). In a similar vein, Kocela suggests that the assimilated characters in The Sopranos benefit from their white racial status while still maintaining an Italian ethnicity. This celebration of ethnic difference by Tony and his friends can serve as a smokescreen for the silent maintenance of whiteness (Kocela 14). Kocela suggests that the show critiques these types of responses that characters have to their ethnicity, stating that "we do not learn from The Sopranos the language of ethnic sons deprived of their Italian godfathers, but the language of racial misrecognition spoken by sons whose lost white fathers were never really their own" (16).Kocela’s article provides a useful discussion about the relationship that characters in The Sopranos have with their ethnicity. This article extends this discussion by showing how prosthetic memories and characters’ understanding of mass media are a crucial element in how such ethnic identities are formed. This will lead to a discussion about how The Sopranos comments on and treats these adopted stereotypes. “What do poor Italian-immigrants have to do with you?”: How Characters Interact with Prosthetic MemoriesCharacters in The Sopranos heavily rely upon stereotypes from gangster films to perform their version of Italian Americanness. A reliance on prosthetic memories from such films leads to the manifestation of violence being intertwined with the characters’ ethnic identities. Brian Faucette has discussed the inherent link between violence and gangster films from the 1930s-60s. He claims that “it was violence that enabled the upward mobility of these figures” (76). It is almost impossible to separate violence from the gangster films referenced in The Sopranos. As such, violence becomes part of the ritualistic ways prosthetic memories are created. This is evident in the pilot episode of The Sopranos when Christopher performs his first hit (kill). In the scene, he shoots rival gang member, Emil, in the back of the head at Satriales Pork Store. Before the hit, the pair are standing close together in front of a pinboard collage of “classic” Italian movie gangsters. As they both walk away in opposite directions the camera pulls out diagonally to follow Christopher. Throughout the duration of the shot, the collage is always placed behind Christopher. Finally, when the pan stops, Christopher is positioned in the foreground, with the collage behind him to the right. The placement of the collage gives it a front row seat to the ensuing murder while serving as a kind of script for it. It is not enough for Christopher to simply kill Emil, rather it is important that it is done in the presence of his idols in order to ensure his enhanced identification with them. Moreover, for Christopher, being an Italian American gangster and violence are inseparable. He must perform acts of extreme violence in order to suture himself into a larger, stereotypical narrative, that equates Italian-Americanness with the mafia. Through Landsberg’s theory, it is possible to see the intertwined relationship between performances of Italian-Americanness and violence. To enact their version of Italian-Americanism, characters follow the script of masculine-violence inherent to gangster films. As well as tools to perform Italian American identities, prosthetic memories can be used by characters to deny their whiteness. Kocela argues that Tony can deny or affirm his whiteness, depending on the situation. According to Kocela, Tony’s economic success is intrinsically linked to his racial status as a white man (16). However, this is not a view shared by characters in the show. In the episode From Where to Eternity Dr. Melfi asks Tony how he justifies his criminal lifestyle: Tony: When America opened the floodgates and let all us Italians in, what do you think they were doing it for? ... The Carnegies and the Rockefellers, they needed worker bees and there we were. But some of us didn't want to swarm around their hive and lose who we were. We wanted to stay Italian and preserve the things that meant something to us: honor, and family, and loyalty. ... Now we weren't educated like the Americans, but we had the balls to take what we wanted. And those other fucks, the J.P. Morgans, they were crooks and killers too, but that was the business, right? The American way.Dr. Melfi: That might all be true. But what do poor Italian immigrants have to do with you and what happens every morning when you step out of bed?Kocela describes Tony’s response as a “textbook recitation of the two-family myth of Italian-American identity in which criminal activities are justified in a need to resist assimilation” (28). It is evident that for Tony, being Italian American is defined by being ethnically different. To admit that whiteness contributes to his economic success would undermine the justification he gives for his criminal lifestyle and his self-perceived status as an Italian American. Despite this, Melfi’s statement rings true. The experience of “poor Italian immigrants” does not affect Tony’s daily lifestyle. Characters in The Sopranos do not face the same oppression and discrimination as first-generation migrants (Kocela 28). After decades of assimilation, Tony and his friends turn to the narratives of discrimination and ethnic difference present in gangster films. This is exemplified through Tony’s identification with Vito Corleone from The Godfather. Vito exemplifies Tony’s notion of Italian Americanism. He was a poor immigrant that turned to criminality to protect the Italian-American community and their way of life. Vito is also connected to Italy in a way that Tony admires. When Paulie asks Tony what his favourite scene from The Godfather is he responds with: Don Ciccio’s Villa, when Vito goes back to Sicily, the crickets, the great old house. Maybe it’s because I’m going over there, ya know? Gangster films and representations of Italian-Americanness often deliberately differentiate Italian families from “regular” white people (D’Acierno 566). According to D’Acierno, gangster narratives often involve two types of Italian families, one that has been left powerless by its assimilation to American culture and another that has resisted this through organised crime (D’Acierno 567). Tony and his friends tap into these narratives in their attempt to create prosthetic memories that differentiate their ethnicity and ultimately draw attention away from the whiteness which silently benefits them.The “inauthenticity” of these prosthetic memories is probably most pronounced in the episode Commendatori when Tony, Christopher and Paulie visit Italy. The trip shatters the expectations that the characters had of their homeland and sheds light on some of their delusions about what it means to be Italian. Paulie expects to love Italy and be greeted with open arms by the locals. Unfortunately, he dislikes it all because it is too foreign for him. At the banquet, Paulie finds the authentic Italian octopus uneatable and instead orders “spaghetti and gravy.” He is also unable to use the bathrooms because he is so used to American toilets. When at a local café he tries to initiate conversation with some local men using broken Italian. Even though they hear him, the group ignores him. Despite all this Paulie, pretends that it was a great trip:Big Pussy: So how was it?Paulie: Fabulous, I felt right at home… I feel sorry for anyone who hasn’t been … especially any Italian. The prosthetic memories that defined these characters’ perceptions of Italy are based on the American media’s portrayal of Italy. Commendatori thus exposes the differences between what is “authentically Italian” and the prosthetic memories about Italy generated by American gangster films. By the end of the episode it has become clear that these “inauthentic” prosthetic memories have forged an entirely different, hybrid ethnic identity.“Louis Brasi sleeps with the fishes”: How The Sopranos Treats Prosthetic MemoriesIntertextuality is an important way through which the audience can understand how The Sopranos treats prosthetic memories. The prosthetic memories generated by characters in The Sopranos are heavily based on stereotypes of Italian Americans. Papaleo states that the Italian stereotype is “composed of overreactions: after bowing, smiling and being funny, the Italian loses control” (93). Mafia films are crucial in defining the identity of Tony and his friends, and David Pattie suggests that they are a “symbolic framework within which Tony, Paulie, Christopher and Silvio attempt to find meaning and justification for their lives” (137). In a similar way, the audience is invited to use these same films as a frame for watching The Sopranos itself. Mafia stereotypes are one of the dominant ways that depict Italian Americans on screen. According to Larke-Walsh, this has perpetuated the belief that crime and Italian-Americanness are synonymous with each other (226). The show is obsessively referential and relies on the viewer’s knowledge of these films for much of its effect. Pattie describes how such use of intertextuality can be explained: "[there are] two ways of looking at self-referential programs: one in which readings of other media texts can be contained first of all within the film or program in which they occur; and a more covert type of referential work, which relies almost exclusively on the audience’s detailed, constantly-updated cultural intelligence" (137). The Sopranos operates on both levels as references that are simultaneously textual and meta-textual. This is evident through the way the show treats The Godfather films. They are by far the most frequently mentioned ones (Golden 95). According to Chris Messenger, the central link between the two is the acknowledgement that “America itself has been totally colonised by The Godfather” (Messenger 95). The Godfather is an urtext that frames how audiences are invited to view the show. As such, The Sopranos invites the viewer to use the Godfather as a lens to uncover extra layers of meaning. For example, The Sopranos uses the misguided ways in which its characters have taken on stereotypes from The Godfather as a source of humour. The series plays on the fact that characters will allow prosthetic memories derived from gangster films to dictate their behaviour. In the pilot episode, Christopher calls “Big Pussy” Bonpensiero to help him dispose of a body. Christopher informs Pussy that it’s his plan to leave the body at a garbage stop to be discovered by the rival Czechoslovakians. Christopher hoped this would emulate the “Luca Brasi situation” from The Godfather and intimidate the Czechoslovakians. When he explains this to Pussy, they have the following exchange. Pussy: The Kolar uncle is gonna find a kid dead on one of his bins and get on our fuckin’ business… no way!Christopher: Louis Brasi sleeps with the fishes.Pussy: Luca Brasi… Luca! There are differences Christopher… okay… from the Luca Brasi situation and this. Look, the Kolar’s know a kid is dead, it hardens their position... plus now the cops are lookin’ for a fuckin’ murderer!To members of the audience who are familiar with The Godfather, it immediately becomes clear that Christopher is comically misguided. In the Godfather, Luca Brasi was murdered because he was caught trying to infiltrate a powerful rival organisation. Fish wrapped in his bullet-proof vest were then sent back to the Corleones in order to notify them that their plan had been foiled (“Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes”). The “Luca Brasi situation” was a calculated and strategic move whereas Christopher’s situation amounts to a seemingly random, unauthorised killing. This sequence in The Sopranos uses this comparison for comedic effect and plays on the stereotype that all Italian Americans are mafioso and that all mafia behaviour is interchangeable. The symbolic language of the “Luca Brasi” scene is contrasted with explicit shots of a slumped, lifeless body. These shots are a source of macabre humour. The audience is invited to laugh at the contrast between the subtle, thoughtful nature of the Luca Brasi situation and the brash violence of Christopher’s own predicament. Through this comedic situation, The Sopranos critiques Christopher’s aspiration to be a godfather-esque gangster by showing his incompetence. Christopher’s misreading of the situation is further emphasised by his mistakenly referring to Luca Brasi as “Louis”. After Pussy says: “There are differences… from the Luca Brasi situation and this”, the dialogue pauses and the scene cuts to an immediate close up of Emil’s body falling to the side. This illustrates that part of the joke is that characters are willing to allow prosthetic memories derived from gangster films to dictate their behaviour, no matter how inappropriate. Therefore, Christopher is willing to refer to a scene from the Godfather that fails to account for the context of a situation without even consulting the knowledge of Big Pussy. This leads to a larger critique of the ways in which films like The Godfather are presented as a script for all Italian Americans to follow. Nevertheless, The Sopranos still has a role in perpetuating these same stereotypes. Tomasulo has argued that "despite its use of postclassical generic, narrative aesthetic devices, and its creation by an Italian American, The Sopranos relies heavily on demeaning tropes of ethnicity, class, sexuality and gender" (206). This results in a perpetuation of negative stereotypes about working class Italian Americans that affirm old Hollywood clichés. While The Sopranos has tried to transcend this through complex characterisation, irony and universalisation, Tomasulo asserts that most audiences “take The Sopranos as straight - that is a raw unvarnished anthropology of Americans of Italian descent” (206). The origin of characters’ anti-social personalities seems to stem directly from their ethnicity and their being Italian appears to constitute an explanation for their behaviour. In his article Kocela discusses the complicated relationship that characters have with their white ethnicity. Through an application of Landsberg’s theory it is possible to understand how these ethnicities are initially formed and how they continue to circulate. In response to assimilation, characters in The Sopranos have turned to mass media to generate prosthetic memories of their ethnic heritage. These memories generally originate in classic gangster films. They are used by characters in The Sopranos to deny their whiteness and justify their criminality. The Sopranos itself comments on the complex ways that characters interpret gangster film stereotypes for both comedic and critical commentary. In the epilogue of her book, Landsberg asks: “How can we be sure the politics inspired by prosthetic memories are progressive and ethical?” Prosthetic memories generated by gangster texts are almost inherently problematic. Scholars have criticised the hyper-aggressive masculinity and regressive gender roles that are rampant throughout the genre (Larke-Walsh 226). For Tony and his friends, these problematic gender politics have helped justify their criminal lifestyle and valorised violence as part of ethnic performance. Similarly, these stereotypes are not always circulated critically and are at times perpetuated for audience enjoyment. AcknowledgmentI would like to express my gratitude to Dr. Michelle Phillipov for providing constructive feedback on earlier drafts. References“Commendatori.” The Sopranos: The Complete Second Season. Writ. David Chase. Dir. Tim Van Patten. HBO, 2000. DVD.Coppola, Francis, and Mario Puzo. The Godfather. Hollywood, CA: Paramount Home Video, 1972.“D-Girl.” The Sopranos: The Complete Second Season. Writ. Todd A. Kessler. Dir. Allen Coulter. HBO, 2000. DVD.D'Acierno, Pellegrino. “Cinema Paradiso.” The Italian American Heritage: A Companion to Literature and Arts. New York: Garland, 1999. 563-690.Faucette, Brian. "Interrogations of Masculinity: Violence and the Retro-Gangster Cycle of the 60s." Atenea 28.1 (2008): 75-85.“From Where to Eternity.” The Sopranos: The Complete Second Season. Writ. Michael Imperioli. Dir. Henry Bronchtein. HBO, 2000. DVD. Golden, Cameron. "You're Annette Bening? Dreams and Hollywood Subtext in The Sopranos." Lavery, David. Reading The Sopranos: Hit TV from H.B.O. London: I.B. Tauris, 2006. 91-103.Kocela, Christopher. "Unmade Men: The Sopranos after Whiteness." Postmodern Culture 15.2 (2005). <http://pmc.iath.virginia.edu/issue.105/15.2kocela.html>.Landsberg, Alison. Prosthetic Memories: The Transformation of American Rememberance in the Age of Mass Culture. New York: Columbia University Press, 2004.Messenger, Christopher. Godfather and American Culture: How the Corleones Became Our Gang. New York: State University of New York Press, 2002.Michaels, Walter Ben. "Race into Culture: A Critical Geneology of Cultural Identity." Critical Inquiry 18.4 (1992): 655-85.Larke-Walsh, George. Screening the Mafia: Masculinity, Ethnicity and Mobsters from The Godfather to The Sopranos. Jefferson: McFarland, 2010.Papaleo, Joseph. "Ethnic Images and Ethnic Fate: The Media Image of Italian Americans." Ethnic Images in American Film and Television (1978): 44-95.Pattie, David. "Mobbed Up: The Sopranos and the Modern Gangster Film." Lavery, David. This Thing of Ours: Investigating The Sopranos. New York: Wallflower Press, 2002. 137-152.Roediger, D.R. The Wages of Whiteness: Race and the Making of the American Working Class. London: Verso, 2007. Thorburn, D. "The Sopranos." In The Essential H.B.O Reader, eds. G. Edgerton and J. Jones. Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 2008. 61-70.Tomasulo, Frank. "The Guinea as Tragic Hero: The Complex Representation of Italian Americans." In The Essential Sopranos Reader, eds. David Lavery, Douglas Howard, and Paul Levinson. Kentucky: University Press of Kentucky, 2011. 196-207.“The Sopranos.” The Sopranos: The Complete First Season. Writ. David Chase. Dir. David Chase. HBO, 1999. DVD. “Walk like a Man.” The Sopranos: The Complete Sixth Season. Writ. Terence Winter. Dir. Terence Winter. HBO, 2007. DVD. Webster, Colin. "Marginalized White Ethnicity, Race and Crime." Theoretical Criminology 12 (2008): 293-312.

IntroductionNew digital technologies hold promise for equalising access to information and communication for the Deaf community. SMS technology, for example, has helped to equalise deaf peoples’ access to information and made it easier to communicate with both deaf and hearing people (Tane Akamatsu et al.; Power and Power; Power, Power, and Horstmanshof; Valentine and Skelton, "Changing", "Umbilical"; Harper). A wealth of anecdotal evidence and some recent academic work suggests that new media technology is also reshaping deaf peoples’ sense of local and global community (Breivik "Deaf"; Breivik, Deaf; Brueggeman). One focus of research on new media technologies has been on technologies used for point to point communication, including communication (and interpretation) via video (Tane Akamatsu et al.; Power and Power; Power, Power, and Horstmanshof). Another has been the use of multimedia technologies in formal educational setting for pedagogical purposes, particularly English language literacy (e.g. Marshall Gentry et al.; Tane Akamatsu et al.; Vogel et al.). An emphasis on the role of multimedia in deaf education is understandable, considering the on-going highly politicised contest over whether to educate young deaf people in a bilingual environment using a signed language (Swanwick & Gregory). However, the increasing significance of social and participatory media in the leisure time of Westerners suggests that such uses of Web 2.0 are also worth exploring. There have begun to be some academic accounts of the enthusiastic adoption of vlogging by sign language users (e.g. Leigh; Cavander and Ladner) and this paper seeks to add to this important work. Web 2.0 has been defined by its ability to, in Denise Woods’ word, “harness collective intelligence” (19.2) by providing opportunities for users to make, adapt, “mash up” and share text, photos and video. As well as its well-documented participatory possibilities (Bruns), its re-emphasis on visual (as opposed to textual) communication is of particular interest for Deaf communities. It has been suggested that deaf people are a ‘visual variety of the human race’ (Bahan), and the visually rich presents new opportunities for visually rich forms of communication, most importantly via signed languages. The central importance of signed languages for Deaf identity suggests that the visual aspects of interactive multimedia might offer possibilities of maintenance, enhancement and shifts in those identities (Hyde, Power and Lloyd). At the same time, the visual aspects of the Web 2.0 are often audio-visual, such that the increasingly rich resources of the net offer potential barriers as well as routes to inclusion and community (see Woods; Ellis; Cavander and Ladner). In particular, lack of captioning or use of Auslan in video resources emerges as a key limit to the accessibility of the visual Web to deaf users (Cahill and Hollier). In this paper we ask to what extent contemporary digital media might create moments of permeability in what Krentz has called “the hearing line, that invisible boundary separating deaf and hearing people”( 2)”. To provide tentative answers to these questions, this paper will explore the use of participatory digital media by a group of young Deaf people taking part in a small-scale digital moviemaking project in Sydney in 2009. The ProjectAs a starting point, the interdisciplinary research team conducted a video-making course for young deaf sign language users within the Department of Media, Music and Cultural Studies at Macquarie University. The research team was comprised of one deaf and four hearing researchers, with expertise in media and cultural studies, information technology, sign language linguistics/ deaf studies, and signed language interpreting. The course was advertised through the newsletter of partner organization the NSW Deaf Society, via a Sydney bilingual deaf school and through the dense electronic networks of Australian deaf people. The course attracted fourteen participants from NSW, Western Australia and Queensland ranging in age from 10 to 18. Twelve of the participants were male, and two female. While there was no aspiration to gather a representative group of young people, it is worth noting there was some diversity within the group: for example, one participant was a wheelchair user while another had in recent years moved to Sydney from Africa and had learned Auslan relatively recently. Students were taught a variety of storytelling techniques and video-making skills, and set loose in groups to devise, shoot and edit a number of short films. The results were shared amongst the class, posted on a private YouTube channel and made into a DVD which was distributed to participants.The classes were largely taught in Auslan by a deaf teacher, although two sessions were taught by (non-deaf) members of Macquarie faculty, including an AFI award winning director. Those sessions were interpreted into Auslan by a sign language interpreter. Participants were then allowed free creative time to shoot video in locations of their choice on campus, or to edit their footage in the computer lab. Formal teaching sessions lasted half of each day – in the afternoons, participants were free to use the facilities or participate in a range of structured activities. Participants were also interviewed in groups, and individually, and their participation in the project was observed by researchers. Our research interest was in what deaf young people would choose to do with Web 2.0 technologies, and most particularly the visually rich elements of participatory and social media, in a relatively unstructured environment. Importantly, our focus was not on evaluating the effectiveness of multimedia for teaching deaf young people, or the level of literacy deployed by deaf young people in using the applications. Rather we were interested to discover the kinds of stories participants chose to tell, the ways they used Web 2.0 applications and the modalities of communication they chose to use. Given that Auslan was the language of instruction of the course, would participants draw on the tradition of deaf jokes and storytelling and narrate stories to camera in Auslan? Would they use the format of the “mash-up”, drawing on found footage or photographs? Would they make more filmic movies using Auslan dialogue? How would they use captions and text in their movies: as subtitles for Auslan dialogue? As an alternative to signing? Or not at all? Our observations from the project point to the great significance of the visual dimensions of Web 2.0 for the deaf young people who participated in the project. Initially, this was evident in the kind of movies students chose to make. Only one group – three young people in their late teens which included both of the young women in the class - chose to make a dialogue heavy movie, a spoof of Charlie’s Angels, entitled Deaf Angels. This movie included long scenes of the Angels using Auslan to chat together, receiving instruction from “Charlie” in sign language via videophone and recruiting “extras”, again using Auslan, to sign a petition for Auslan to be made an official Australian language. In follow up interviews, one of the students involved in making this film commented “my clip is about making a political statement, while the other [students in the class] made theirs just for fun”. The next group of (three) films, all with the involvement of the youngest class member, included signed storytelling of a sort readily recognisable from signed videos on-line: direct address to camera, with the teller narrating but also taking on the roles of characters and presenting their dialogue directly via the sign language convention of “role shift” - also referred to as constructed action and constructed dialogue (Metzger). One of these movies was an interesting hybrid. The first half of the four minute film had two young actors staging a hold-up at a vending machine, with a subsequent chase and fight scene. Like most of the films made by participants in the class, it included only one line of signed dialogue, with the rest of the narrative told visually through action. However, at the end of the action sequence, with the victim safely dead, the narrative was then retold by one of the performers within a signed story, using conventions typically observed in signed storytelling - such as role shift, characterisation and spatial mapping (Mather & Winston; Rayman; Wilson).The remaining films similarly drew on action and horror genres with copious use of chase and fight scenes and melodramatic and sometimes quite beautiful climactic death tableaux. The movies included a story about revenging the death of a brother; a story about escaping from jail; a short story about a hippo eating a vet; a similar short comprised of stills showing a sequence of executions in the computer lab; and a ghost story. Notably, most of these movies contained very little dialogue – with only one or two lines of signed dialogue in each four to five minute video (with the exception of the gun handshape used in context to represent the object liberally throughout most films). The kinds of movies made by this limited group of people on this one occasion are suggestive. While participants drew on a number of genres and communication strategies in their film making, the researchers were surprised at how few of the movies drew on traditions of signed storytelling or jokes– particularly since the course was targeted at deaf sign language users and promoted as presented in Auslan. Consequently, our group of students were largely drawn from the small number of deaf schools in which Auslan is the main language of instruction – an exceptional circumstance in an Australian setting in which most deaf young people attend mainstream schools (Byrnes et al.; Power and Hyde). Looking across the Hearing LineWe can make sense of the creative choices made by the participants in the course in a number of ways. Although methods of captioning were briefly introduced during the course, iMovie (the package which participants were using) has limited captioning functionality. Indeed, one student, who was involved in making the only clip to include captioning which contextualised the narrative, commented in follow-up interviews that he would have liked more information about captioning. It’s also possible that the compressed nature of the course prevented participants from undertaking the time-consuming task of scripting and entering captions. As well as being the most fun approach to the projects, the use of visual story telling was probably the easiest. This was perhaps exacerbated by the lack of emphasis on scriptwriting (outside of structural elements and broad narrative sweeps) in the course. Greater emphasis on that aspect of film-making would have given participants a stronger foundational literacy for caption-based projectsDespite these qualifications, both the movies made by students and our observations suggest the significance of a shared visual culture in the use of the Web by these particular young people. During an afternoon when many of the students were away swimming, one student stayed in the lab to use the computers. Rather than working on a video project, he spent time trawling through YouTube for clips purporting to show ghost sightings and other paranormal phenomena. He drew these clips to the attention of one of the research team who was present in the lab, prompting a discussion about the believability of the ghosts and supernatural apparitions in the clips. While some of the clips included (uncaptioned) off-screen dialogue and commentary, this didn’t seem to be a barrier to this student’s enjoyment. Like many other sub-genres of YouTube clips – pranks, pratfalls, cute or alarmingly dangerous incidents involving children and animals – these supernatural videos as a genre rely very little on commentary or dialogue for their meaning – just as with the action films that other students drew on so heavily in their movie making. In an E-Tech paper entitled "The Cute Cat Theory of Digital Activism", Ethan Zuckerman suggests that “web 1.0 was invented to allow physicists to share research papers and web 2.0 was created to allow people to share pictures of cute cats”. This comment points out both the Web 2.0’s vast repository of entertaining material in the ‘funny video’genre which is visually based, dialogue free, entertaining material accessible to a wide range of people, including deaf sign language users. In the realm of leisure, at least, the visually rich resources of Web 2.0’s ubiquitous images and video materials may be creating a shared culture in which the line between hearing and deaf people’s entertainment activities is less clear than it may have been in the past. The ironic tone of Zuckerman’s observation, however, alerts us to the limits of a reliance on language-free materials as a route to accessibility. The kinds of videos that the participants in the course chose to make speaks to the limitations as well as resources offered by the visual Web. There is still a limited range of captioned material on You Tube. In interviews, both young people and their teachers emphasised the central importance of access to captioned video on-line, with the young people we interviewed strongly favouring captioned video over the inclusion on-screen of simultaneous signed interpretations of text. One participant who was a regular user of a range of on-line social networking commented that if she really liked the look of a particular movie which was uncaptioned, she would sometimes contact its maker and ask them to add captions to it. Interestingly, two student participants emphasised in interviews that signed video should also include captions so hearing people could have access to signed narratives. These students seemed to be drawing on ideas about “reverse discrimination”, but their concern reflected the approach of many of the student movies - using shared visual conventions that made their movies available to the widest possible audience. All the students were anxious that hearing people could understand their work, perhaps a consequence of the course’s location in the University as an overwhelmingly hearing environment. In this emphasis on captioning rather than sign as a route to making media accessible, we may be seeing a consequence of the emphasis Krentz describes as ubiquitous in deaf education “the desire to make the differences between deaf and hearing people recede” (16). Krentz suggests that his concept of the ‘hearing line’ “must be perpetually retested and re-examined. It reveals complex and shifting relationships between physical difference, cultural fabrication and identity” (7). The students’ movies and attitudes emphasised the reality of that complexity. Our research project explored how some young Deaf people attempted to create stories capable of crossing categories of deafness and ‘hearing-ness’… unstable (like other identity categories) while others constructed narratives that affirmed Deaf Culture or drew on the Deaf storytelling traditions. This is of particular interest in the Web 2.0 environment, given that its technologies are often lauded as having the politics of participation. The example of the Deaf Community asks reasonable questions about the validity of those claims, and it’s hard to escape the conclusion that there is still less than appropriate access and that some users are more equal than others.How do young people handle the continuing lack of material available to the on the Web? The answer repeatedly offered by our young male interviewees was ‘I can’t be bothered’. As distinct from “I can’t understand” or “I won’t go there” this answer, represented a disengagement from demands to identify your literacy levels, reveal your preferred means of communication; to rehearse arguments about questions of access or expose attempts to struggle to make sense of texts that fail to employ readily accessible means of communicating. Neither an admission of failure or a demand for change, CAN’T-BE-BOTHERED in this context offers a cool way out of an accessibility impasse. This easily-dismissed comment in interviews was confirmed in a whole-group discussions, when students came to a consensus that if when searching for video resources on the Net they found video that included neither signing nor captions, they would move on to find other more accessible resources. Even here, though, the ground continues to shift. YouTube recently announced that it was making its auto-captioning feature open to everybody - a machine generated system that whilst not perfect does attempt to make all YouTube videos accessible to deaf people. (Bertolucci).The importance of captioning of non-signed video is thrown into further significance by our observation from the course of the use of YouTube as a search engine by the participants. Many of the students when asked to research information on the Web bypassed text-based search engines and used the more visual results presented on YouTube directly. In research on deaf adolescents’ search strategies on the Internet, Smith points to the promise of graphical interfaces for deaf young people as a strategy for overcoming the English literacy difficulties experienced by many deaf young people (527). In the years since Smith’s research was undertaken, the graphical and audiovisual resources available on the Web have exploded and users are increasingly turning to these resources in their searches, providing new possibilities for Deaf users (see for instance Schonfeld; Fajardo et al.). Preliminary ConclusionsA number of recent writers have pointed out the ways that the internet has made everyday communication with government services, businesses, workmates and friends immeasurably easier for deaf people (Power, Power and Horstmanshof; Keating and Mirus; Valentine and Skelton, "Changing", "Umbilical"). The ready availability of information in a textual and graphical form on the Web, and ready access to direct contact with others on the move via SMS, has worked against what has been described as deaf peoples’ “information deprivation”, while everyday tasks – booking tickets, for example – are no longer a struggle to communicate face-to-face with hearing people (Valentine and Skelton, "Changing"; Bakken 169-70).The impacts of new technologies should not be seen in simple terms, however. Valentine and Skelton summarise: “the Internet is not producing either just positive or just negative outcomes for D/deaf people but rather is generating a complex set of paradoxical effects for different users” (Valentine and Skelton, "Umbilical" 12). They note, for example, that the ability, via text-based on-line social media to interact with other people on-line regardless of geographic location, hearing status or facility with sign language has been highly valued by some of their deaf respondents. They comment, however, that the fact that many deaf people, using the Internet, can “pass” minimises the need for hearing people in a phonocentric society to be aware of the diversity of ways communication can take place. They note, for example, that “few mainstream Websites demonstrate awareness of D/deaf peoples’ information and communication needs/preferences (eg. by incorporating sign language video clips)” ("Changing" 11). As such, many deaf people have an enhanced ability to interact with a range of others, but in a mode favoured by the dominant culture, a culture which is thus unchallenged by exposure to alternative strategies of communication. Our research, preliminary as it is, suggests a somewhat different take on these complex questions. The visually driven, image-rich approach taken to movie making, Web-searching and information sharing by our participants suggests the emergence of a certain kind of on-line culture which seems likely to be shared by deaf and hearing young people. However where Valentine and Skelton suggest deaf people, in order to participate on-line, are obliged to do so, on the terms of the hearing majority, the increasingly visual nature of Web 2.0 suggests that the terrain may be shifting – even if there is still some way to go.AcknowledgementsWe would like to thank Natalie Kull and Meg Stewart for their research assistance on this project, and participants in the course and members of the project’s steering group for their generosity with their time and ideas.ReferencesBahan, B. "Upon the Formation of a Visual Variety of the Human Race. In H-Dirksen L. Baumann (ed.), Open Your Eyes: Deaf Studies Talking. 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