Journal articles on the topic 'Mystery Road'

AbstractIn rock historiography, Abbey Road Studios is depicted as the rock canon's ultimate recording house; home to the Beatles, Pink Floyd and a generation of classic rock album production. In recent years, the studio has struggled to maintain itself as an operational recording house, yet effectively exploits its past to secure its future. This article considers issues of heritage, pilgrimage and tourism before elucidating brand ‘Abbey Road’ as a conflation of geographical location, zebra crossing, graffiti wall, recording house and aura. In separating the tangible aspects of Abbey Road's heritage – the zebra crossing, graffiti wall and the Beatles Abbey Road album – out from its intangibles – its ‘magic’, legacy and studio ‘vibe’ – Abbey Road's studio aura is exposed as a commodity in its own right.

This article describes a systematic process for taking a company through the internationalization process. Based upon extensive firsthand experience with both small and large companies, the author proposes and details a step-by-step process designed to take the mystery out of the internationalization challenge and, at the same time, to minimize the risks of going international in a haphazard manner. Specific ideas and helpful tips are offered for each step.

This paper explores Anne Carson’s “Kinds of Water: An Essay on the Road to Compostela,” the author’s journal on her pilgrimage to Santiago. Taking water as a metaphor for the Camino, the text reflects the creative dimension of the pilgrimage both from an artistic and personal standpoint. Alternative discourses of the female writer and pilgrim occur in a text that is an essay and a meditation on the forms of resilience put into practice by Carson after facing a series of personal losses. The progressive construction of self-knowledge is seen as an emancipatory act that transcended Carson’s mourning period in her experience, which she took as an opportunity to embrace personal transformation. I suggest that my approach can bring useful perspectives not only to further and refine knowledge on Carson in Spain but also for the consideration of resilience as an aspect that contributes to the critical understanding of narratives of individual and social transformation.

The article deals with the theoretical generalization of the attributes of a poetic of gothic, in particular in the article is analyzed in details the figurative-motive and plot-compositional levels; is traced the evolution of the image of Devil; is identified the triune category − mystery / horror / suspense – as a genre constant of gothic fiction; is identified the road archetype; is analyzed the functionality of gothic, contrast as the dominant feature of the gothic paradigm; and also is grounded the philosophical doctrine of the theodicy as one of the fundamental basis of all gothic fiction.

The article provides a comprehensive architectural and historical-geographical analysis of a unique monument of medieval religious-defensive architecture – the Church of the Assumption of the Virgin in Vasilcau village, located on the banks of the Dniester River, near the state border of the Republic of Moldova and the Ukraine. Vasilcau was the border point between the Principality of Moldavia and the Grand Duchy of Lithuania in the Middle Ages. Its geographical position led to the formation of a fortified border point here, which served as an eastern outpost of the Soroca tsinut (county). The elevated cape with steep slopes, on which a temple with a bell tower, a courtyard, a trading square, as well as an ancient trade road and a river crossing was built, is a vivid example of a natural, historical-cultural complex, the basis of which is a medieval fortified point with a unique cult-defensive monument of architecture. The church represents a widespread type of place of worship, whose architecture combines the planimetric features of wooden architecture with those used in medieval buildings built of stone, highlighted in the found proportions. The solution of the historical-geographical enigmas that envelop the history of the heritage monument in the absence of written sources is carried out on the basis of a complex poly-scale historical and cartographic analysis and the use of modern geoinformation methods.

This essay explores the suggestion that many American narratives are supplementary, correcting narratives – alternatives to the main story on offer. The guiding thought is that of Henry James's “possible other case,” and the chief example is Cormac McCarthy's “No Country for Old Men,” in which one story after another fails to cope with the ongoing mystery it faces. The novel may imply, then, that narrative itself, rather than any individual report or fiction, is in crisis or has come to the end of its road. A coda to the essay proposes the option of nonnarrative understandings of the world in those extreme situations where storytelling is no longer the sense-making activity we so often take it to be.

The relationship between Mahathir Mohamad and Anwar Ibrahim was colorful, from friendship, fellowship to violent conflict and hostilities, even Anwar was slandered with sodomy and jailed and tortured in his cell. Anwar's struggle in Malaysian politics was full of sorrow and bitterness, after being released from prison in 2007, in 2008 he was jailed again on charges of sodomy too. But then he could be free and form an opposition against Najib Razak who replaced Mahathir.In 1997, when he became a finance minister, Anwar Ibrahim supported the steps of the International Monetary Fund (IMF). He saved money by cutting state spending by 18 percent, cutting ministerial salaries, and postponing major projects. The major projects postponed by Anwar Ibrahim included a number of projects that were the mainstay of the development strategy designed by Mahathir Mohamad. In 1998, amid the worsening relationship between Anwar and Mahathir, Newsweek magazine named Anwar the "Asian Leader of the Year". In the same year, the youth wing of UMNO led by Anwar's ally Ahmad Zahid Hamidi indicated that they would raise the issue of cronyism and nepotism in the UMNO General Session.Now Anwar has returned to the Malaysian political scene and is waiting for the promise of Mahathir who will hand over the reign of the Prime Minister to him. Indeed, Anwar's way of life was full of mystery and grief but there was no grudge in him for those who had imprisoned him for quite a long time.

The part played by William Stukeley in the evolution of English garden design has aroused much interest in recent years, though little research has been carried out into his gardening and architectural activities while resident in Stamford, Lincolnshire, from 1730 to 1747. This was an important period in Stukeley's life and the influence of his archaeological work at Stonehenge and Avebury and his ideas on religion and the early British druids are clearly reflected in his garden designs. Previous work on this period in Stukeley's life has been hampered by imprecision over the various gardens or houses occupied in Stamford by Stukeley. The gardens and his residences are here identified and a mystery concerning his Barn Hill house that has puzzled architectural historians for five decades is solved: what was thought to be a remodelling of the house is here shown to be a scheme for a triumphal arch over the road immediately outside his house.

Towards the end of 1989, Lord Montagu of Beaulieu, Chairman of English Heritage, announced that detailed planning had started on a visitor centre at Stonehenge. For someone not touched by the generations of wrangling over this site, or spared the depressing squalor with which a visit deftly obliterates any preconceptions of mystery or romance, what could be more appropriate than good visitor facilities at one of the world’s top heritage attractions? What could be simpler to construct in an open landscape of not particularly valuable farmland?Of course, Stonehenge is not like that. This small group of standing stones by a road has provoked one of the most complex, bitter, and long-running archaeo-political stories of all time. It will run and run – make no doubt about that – but Lord Montagu’s announcement has a real significance for anyone with an interest in our past. Someone is actually trying to do something about the place.

The study analyzes the significance of paradox in the ecclesiological vision of Henri de Lubac (1896-1991) based on some of his writings. The French theologian presents paradox in an original way in order to find ways of drawing on biblical and patristic insights and to address the issues raised by the modern world for the Church. Paradox allows one to see the union of opposites while maintaining their individual distinctions. From the paradoxical point of view, de Lubac defines the Church as a mystery, keeping her human and divine elements in tension. This Church is relational in the divine, mystical, sacramental, historical, and social dimension. In it, there arise and live the paradoxes of the natural and supernatural dignity of man, of individual and collective salvation, of his temporal-eternal and visible-invisible aspect, of holiness and sin. The “paradoxical” Church is the missionary Church on the road to holiness – the Church that proclaims God’s salvation to all.

In order to help archaeologists better study ancient glass, uncover the mystery of the early Silk Road, and also better protect these cultural heritage.In this paper, the properties and composition of ancient glass are studied.All types of glass samples were analyzed by PCA principal component analysis and weighted summation, and the type characteristic equation was obtained. After calculating the candidate points iteratively in MATLAB, the optimal critical eigenvalue was set to 5, and the type judgment model was established.According to get the type of the characteristic equation, the selection is related components as high potassium and the composition of class division, choose negative correlation components as lead, barium and the composition of class division, through the PCA principal component analysis of two types of glass data are reduced to 3 d in the class we USES Kmeans clustering algorithm for two types of glass, For the sensitivity analysis of subclass partitioning, we used SOBOL global sensitivity analysis method, and obtained that principal component 1 would have the greatest impact on the model output.

Many studies have been conducted to measure the experiential qualities of historical streets using the standards and principles released by many global organizations. However, little attention has been paid to the effect of spatial characteristics of historical heritage. This study proposes a space syntax-based methodology, first developed by Bill Hillier and Julienne Hanson with colleagues from the Bartlett School of Architecture, while introducing factors such as complexity, coherence, ‘mystery’, and legibility from the work of environmental psychologist Stephen Kaplan and the urban designer Gordon Cullen. Our intention is to help inform urban designers in understanding people’s spatial cognition of historical streets, and thereby assist designers and managers in identifying where cognitive experiences can be improved. The proposed method is applied to Nanxun, which is a developed canal town currently in decline in Zhejiang Province, China. This will be treated as the case study in order to explore the implication of the space syntax analysis. The impact from spatial characteristics on the evaluation is indirect and largely determined by the road-network of the canal town. As for Nanxun, the findings of this research suggest that the government’s priority is to solve current negative tourist perception based on a conservation restoration plan. The findings of this research provide a reference for policymakers to better understand the experiential qualities of historical streets in townscapes.

Departing from the story of his encounter with the leper, Saint Francis of Assisi is offered as a paradigm of Christian health care and charitable service. In this grace-filled moment, Francis testifies that what had previously seemed bitter to him “was turned into sweetness of soul and body.” He was changed by the encounter and awakened to his capacity to love. Francis’s story witnesses to the divine initiative in calling us to charity, of recognizing the presence of Christ in those who suffer, and of acknowledging that our service of others is a privileged space in which the mystery of God becomes a reality. Weaved together with reflections from recent magisterial teachings, Francis’s experience teaches us that Christian charity can never be reduced to an ideology or the accomplishment of works but flows from a heart touched by God, converted to truth, and expanded by love. Summary: In speaking to those involved in the charitable mission of the Church, Pope Benedict XVI once spoke of the need for a formation of the heart through an “encounter with God in Christ which awakens their love and opens their spirits to others.” In this reflection, I offer Saint Francis of Assisi as a model of such formation, inspired by the celebrated moment of his encounter with the leper on the road: an encounter which witnesses to the primacy of God’s initiative in enabling us to love with His own love and see His presence in those we serve.

Edinburgh. She had recently taken up a locum tenens at the Royal Free Hospital in Gray's Inn Road in place of one of the resident staff who was away on holiday. The Lancet records that she was “seen in the hospital and about the wards up to noon on Saturday 15th (August), but since then nothing has been seen of her nor had anything been heard of her up to Thursday morning. We trust that before the paper is in our readers' hands Miss Hickman's whereabouts and safety will be made known to her father, with whose anxiety in the situation we sympathise deeply”. By 29 August nothing had been heard, though Miss Hickman's sudden and apparently motiveless disappearance had by then attracted a great deal of public interest. She had been a brilliant student, attending the London School of Medicine for Women, where she had consistently gained Honours and Prizes. Her first job was as Junior House Surgeon at Clapham Maternity Hospital. Her independent life-style (there was still controversy surrounding the practice of medicine by women) and the lack of motive for her disappearance led to a range of theories and explanations being brought to bear upon the mystery. The Lancet (29 August) suggested that Miss Hickman's disappearance “may be due to that curious condition of mentality which leads to ‘automatic wandering’ – a condition that is perfectly familiar to psychologists” and recommended to the reader a paper by Dr W. S. Colman, lecturer in forensic medicine. Entitled ‘A Case of Automatic Wandering lasting Five Days’, it described in detail two episodes of prolonged automatism. On each occasion, the patient had ‘woken up’ after a period of days, many miles from home.

The term "inertioid" and its first design in 1936 was invented by engineer V. N. Tolchin. Despite the demonstration of unsupported motion using a physical model, the mystery of the inertioid has existed for almost a century. There are several theories explaining the motion of the inertioid (or mechanisms with inertial motion). These theories include the theory of friction, which proves that the movement of the device occurs due to the difference between the coefficients of friction and the coefficients of rolling resistance in contact between the bottom of the machine and the road. In some works, to explain the physical nature of this phenomenon, it is often legitimate to use A. Einstein's theory of relativity from a scientific point of view. In our opinion, the approach to the study of the process of motion of the inertioid should be based on the theory of the gravitational field. In the theory of relativity, A. Einstein notes that rapidly moving frames of reference create their own gravitational fields. Rotating weights create their own potential fields, since they are affected by centripetal accelerations. When the field of rotating loads is imposed on the gravitational field of the earth, accelerations appear that cause the movement of an inertioid (machines with an inertial mover). In fact, we constantly encounter this kind of overlap of potential fields in our daily life. For example, the effect of latitude on the value of the free fall acceleration of a body above the earth's surface is explained by the imposition of the earth's gravitational field of the potential field of its rotation around its axis. In the paper an inertioid with an idealized engine, which creates a constant driving (traction) force directed towards the movement has been investigated. As a result of the study, the equations of the translational motion of a machine with an ideal inertial engine were obtained, an expression for calculating its maximum speed was determined, and the maximum required engine power for the movement of a machine with an ideal inertial engine was determined.

The human mind is the mediator of knowledge about the world because no human being has direct knowledge of their surrounding reality. All knowledge is „read and transported” by the brain and nervous system. Regardless of the progressive nature of the research into psychic phenomena, we are still faced with the mystery of what phenomena occur in the brain. The difficulties are mainly due to the interdisciplinary nature of cognitive science. Cognitive science as an interdisciplinary field, which attempts to explore the human mind and find a common area of research to unite all scientific research. Attempts to understand the mind constitute the most interdisciplinary task. Neuroscience is one of the disciplines that make up modern cognitive science. Neurobiology suggests the variety of processes that occur either in individual cells, the brain, and the nervous system, and the human body. Modern studies indicate the possibility of cognition of the brain in order to apply effective teaching and education. How does the brain learn? This question stimulates researchers to interdisciplinary cooperation in order to obtain a satisfactory answer. Recently there have been many new concepts related to research into the brain and methods that allow you to better utilize the potential of the brain in order to undertake a conscious process of self-discovery. The science of the brain is not only a part of medical science or biology but also disciplines such as pedagogy and didactics. The concepts neuroteaching, neurodidactics, and neurotechnologies are new, still relatively unknown, and unused. Reflecting on the conscious changes in the learning process, it is worth looking into the rules of biofeedback and neurofeedback and the possibilities of practically applying EEG biofeedback training, which is becoming a readily available method. Insightful observations of bioelectrical activity of the brain have led to naming multiple correlations between the mental state of individuals, their behavior, and EEG activity. Biofeedback, as a neurotechnological road to self-discovery, allows for the individual functions of the brain and body, previously considered involuntary, to become dependent on our will to a certain degree. Upon obtaining a higher degree of self-awareness, self-regulatory responses develop. Proponents of this method argue that self-regulation will become a major part of health care in the twenty-first century.

Background/Objectives: All modern activities have been developed to manage the system fused with IoT Internet of Things. Tourism industry is also developing into a fusion and complex. Currently, the Internet of things is the most active field of use, and the development plan of the Internet of things and ecotourism is being studied very little. ICT convergence industry in other fields is considered to be a field with high potential growth potential from remote systems. The purpose of this study is to empirically verify the relationship and influence between the motivation and satisfaction of eco-tourism tourists.Methods/Statistical analysis: In order to achieve the purpose of this study, literature research and empirical research were conducted in parallel. First, the concept and characteristics of ecotourism were examined based on IoT base through theses, journals, and other related materials, and theoretical considerations such as motivation, satisfaction, revisit intention and recommendation intention of tourist destinations were conducted. The reliability test was conducted to identify internal consistency using SPSS program, and factor analysis was conducted to verify validity.Findings: In order to investigate the relationship between the motivation and satisfaction of visitors to IOT ecotourism, this study was conducted to investigate the relationship between the motivation and satisfaction. First, based on the previous studies, the characteristics and mutual relations are conceptually redefined through theoretical review of ecotourism, tourism motivation, and tourism satisfaction. Second, the relationship between tourism characteristics, tourism motivation, tourism satisfaction, and revisit recommendation intention was empirically verified for tourists visiting IOT eco-tourism sites. Third, it is intended to provide useful Infor-mation for the development and management of ecological tourist destinations and the tourists who visit ecological tourist destinations in the future.Improvements/Applications: Despite the importance of IOT ecotourism, systematic research is insufficient. The reason is that the application of ecotourism is different from case to case, so it is difficult and it is applicable to various fields, so various approaches are possible. This study was conducted to investigate the relationship between the tourist's motives and tourist satisfaction, targeting various ecotourism resources of the Jindo Mystery Sea Road Festival.

CairnsIn Denmark, the term stenkast (a ‘stone throw’) is used for cairns – stone heaps that have accumulated in places where it was the tradition to throw a stone. A kast (a ‘throw’) would actually be a more correct term, as sometimes the heaps consist of sticks, branches, heather, or peat, rather than stones – in short, whichever was at hand at that particular place. A kast could also consist of both sticks and stones.The majority of the known Danish cairns were presented by August F. Schmidt in 1929. Since then, numerous new ones have been discovered, and we now know of around 80 cairns, cf. the list on page 264 and map Fig. 3. It appears from the descriptions that the majority – a total of 65 – are actual cairns, 14 are heaps of branches, whereas two are described as either peat or heather heaps.Geographically, the majority – a total of 53 – are found in Jutland, with most in North and Central Jutland (Fig. 3). Fifteen are known from Zealand, four from Lolland, four from Funen, and five from Bornholm.Topographically, they are found – naturally – where people would normally be passing: next to roads and in connection with sacred springs, chapels, and places of execution. However, they also occur in less busy places, in woods, along the coast, on moors, and on small islands.A few cairns have been preserved because they are still “active” as reminiscences of customs and habits of past times. This is the case of the cairn called Røsen (“røse” being another Danish term for a cairn) on Trøstrup Moor (no. 45, Fig. 1-2), of Heksens Grav (“The Witch’s Grave”) (no. 27, Fig. 4), and of the branch heap in the wood of Slotved Skov (no. 14, Fig. 5), which was recently revived after having been almost forgotten. Other cairns are maintained as prehistoric relics, as is the case of the branch heap by the name of Stikhoben (“The Stick Heap;” no. 10, Fig. 6) and Kjelds Grav (“Kjeld’s Grave,” no. 59, Fig. 7). Although heaps of stones and branches are included in the Danish Protection of Nature Act as relics of the past worthy of protection, so far merely the two latter have been listed.Whereas the remaining ’throws’ of organic material have probably disintegrated, it is still possible under favourable conditions to retrieve those made from more enduring materials – unless they have been demolished – even if they have practically sunk into oblivion (Figs. 8-10).The oldest known cairn is almost 500 years old. It was situated by the ford Præstbjerg Vad in Vinding parish near the Holstebro-Ribe highroad. Tradition says that the stone heap came into existence as a memorial of a priest in Hanbjerg, who died in the first half of the 16th century following a fall with his horse.Such legends of origin are connected with most of the Danish cairns. They usually tell of some unhappy or alarming happening supposed to have occurred at the place in question. However, they are often so vague and stereotype that they can only rarely be dated or put into a historical context. Indeed, on closer examination several of them turn out to be travelling legends. Apart from the legend of the murdered tradesman, they comprise the legend of the exorcised farmhand and that of the three sisters, who were murdered by three robbers, who turned out to be their own brothers. The latter legend, which is also known from a folksong, is connected to the so-called Varper on the high moor in Pedersker parish on Bornholm (no. 7). Until the early 20th century, it was the custom to maintain these cairns by putting back stones that had fallen down and adorn them with green sprigs. Early folklorists interpreted this as a tradition going back to an old sacrificial ritual, although the custom also seems to have had a pure practical purpose, as these stone heaps were originally cairns marking the road across inland Bornholm.A special group of the Danish cairns are connected with the tradition that someone is buried underneath them, such as a body washed ashore, a murdered child from a clandestine childbirth, a murdered person, several persons killed in a fight, an exorcised farmhand, a suicide, a murderer buried on his scene of crime, or witches and murderers buried at the place of execution. In all these cases, the throwing of a stone was supposed to protect the passers-by against the dead, who was buried in unconsecrated grounds and thus, according to public belief, haunted the spot. Another far less frequent explanation was that the stone was thrown in order to achieve a good journey or luck at the market. In some places, the traveller would throw the stone while shouting a naughty word or in other ways showing his disgust with the dead witch, criminal, or infanticide buried in that particular place. In rather a lot of the cases, as explained by the context, the cairn was merely a memorial to some unhappy occurrence, and the stone was thrown in memory of the deceased.In an article on Norwegian cairns written by the folklorist Svale Solheim, the author attached importance to achieving a clear picture of the position of the cairns (kastrøysarne) in the landscape. A closer examination showed that almost all were situated by the side of old roads – between farms and settlements, through forests, or across mountains – in short, where people would often walk. “The cairns follow the road as the shadow follows the man,” Solheim writes and gives an example of an old road, which had been relocated, and where the cairns had been moved to the new road. Furthermore, the position of the cairns along the roads turned out to not be accidental; they were always found at places that were in one way or other interesting to the travellers. This is why Solheim thought that the stone heaps mostly had the character of cairns or road stones thrown together at certain places for a pure practical purpose. “For instance,” he writes, “we find stone heaps at places along the roads where there is access to fine drinking water. These would also be natural places for a rest, and numerous stone heaps are situated by old resting places. And so it came natural to mark these places by piling up a stone heap, and of course it would be in every traveller’s interest to maintain the heaps.”The older folklore saw the tradition as a relic of pagan rituals and conceptions. As a reaction to this, Solheim and others took a tradition-functionalistic view, according to which most folklore, as seen in the light of the cultural conditions, was considered rational and the rest could be explained as pseudo beliefs, for instance educational fiction and tomfoolery.However, if we turn to our other neighbouring country, Sweden, it becomes more difficult to explain away that we are dealing with sacrificial rites, as here, the most used dialectal term for the stone and branch piles were offerhög, offervål, or offerbål (“offer” is the Swedish word for sacrifice), and when someone threw stones, sticks, or money on the pile, it was called “sacrificing.” An article from 1929 by the anthropologist Sigurd Erixon is especially interesting. Here, he documents how – apart from the cairns with a death motive (largely corresponding to the Danish cases mentioned above), Sweden had both good luck and misfortune averting sacrificial stone throwing (Fig. 13).Whereas the sacrificial cairns connected to deaths were evenly distributed across the whole country, Erixon found that the “good luck cairns” occurred mainly in environments associated with mountain pasture farming or fishing. Based on this observation and desultory comparative studies, Erixon formed the hypothesis that the “good luck cairns” represented an older and more primitive culture than the cairns associated with sacrifices to the dead. “The first,” he writes, “belong rather more to the work area of hunting, fishing, and animal husbandry, roads, and environments, whereas the death sacrificial cairns seem to be closer related to the culture of agriculture.”The problem with the folkloristic material is that most of it is based on reminiscences. In order to study the living tradition, one must turn elsewhere. However, as demonstrated by James Frazer in “The Golden Bough,” this is no problem, as the custom of throwing stones in a pile is known from all over the world, from Africa, Europe, and Asia to Australia and America (Fig. 14).Customs last, their meanings perish – the explanation why, for instance, one must throw a stone onto a stone pile, may be forgotten, or reinterpreted, or get a completely new explanation. The custom probably goes back further than any known religion. However, these have all tried to tally the stone throwing with their “theology.” In Ancient Greece, the stone piles by the roadsides were furnished with statues of Hermes (in the shape of a post with a head and sometimes a phallus). As an escort for the dead, Hermes became the god of the travellers, and just as the gods had thrown stones after Hermes when he was accused of murdering Argus, people could now do the same.With the introduction of Christianity, the throwing of stones was denounced as superstition, and a standard question for the penitents in the so-called books of penance was: “Have you carried stones to a heap?” All across Europe, crosses were planted in the stone heaps – which must have caused problems as it was considered a deadly sin to throw stones after a cross. In the culture connected with pilgrimage, the cairns got a new meaning as markers of important places. For instance, enormous stone piles outside Santiago de Compostela mark the location where pilgrims first spotted the towers of the city’s cathedral (Fig. 15). At many places, the cairns were consecrated to saints, so that now people would carry stones to them as a sacrifice or a penance. The jews also adopted the custom. The Old Testament mentions stone heaps gathered over murdered persons or placed around a larger stone, as the “witness dolmen” built by Jacob and his people to commemmorate his pact with Laban, his father-in-law. However, there is no mention of throwing new stones onto these heaps. However, the latter occurs in the still practiced Jewish custom of placing stones on the gravestones when Jews visit the graves of their dead (Fig. 16).Stone throwing in a Muslim context is illustrated by Edward Westermarck’s large investigation of rituals and popular belief with the Berbers and the Arabs in Marocco in the early 20th century. Unfortunately, it only comprises cairns connected to Muslim saints, but even with this limitation, the investigation gives an idea of the variety of applications. If the stone heap is situated near the grave of a saint, it may mark the demarcation of the sacred area, or it may have come into existence because the wayfaring have a habit of throwing a stone when they pass the grave of a saint, which they do not have time to visit. If the heap is situated on a ridge, it is usually an indication of the spot on a certain pilgrim route where the sacred places become visible for the first time. Other stone heaps mark the places where a holy man or woman is supposed to have been buried, or rested, or camped some time. By a large crossroads outside Andira, Westermark was shown a stone heap, which indicated that this place was the gathering place for saints, who met there at nighttime. The sacred cairns in Marocco are often easily recognized by the fact that they are chalked white at intervals. At some places, the cairns may also be marked with a pole with a white flag symbolising the sacred character of the place.Even Buddhism struggled against the stone heaps, especially in the form of the oboo cult, which was repeatedly reformered and reinterpreted by Buddhist missionaries. And in early 17th-century South America, the converted aristocratic Inca, Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala, made sarcastic remarks about Indians, who “even now” had preserved the bad habit of [sacrificing to] stone heaps (apachitas).”Historically, the Danish cairns can be documented from the 16th century, but the tradition may well be older. Seen in a larger, comparative context, heaps of stones and branches represent an ancient tradition rooted in the deepest cultural layers of mankind. Thus, as cultural relics, they are certainly worthy of preservation, and we ought to put a lot of effort into preserving the few still existing.Whereas it will probably be difficult to establish possible prehistoric stone heaps using archaeology, the possibilities of documenting hitherto unknown stone piles from historical times is considerably higher, if special topographic conditions are taken into consideration. In connection with small mounds on tidal meadows or stone heaps along stretches of old roads and by fords, old places of execution, springs, and grave mounds used secondarily for gallows, one should pay attention to such structures, which may well prove to be covering a grave.In a folklore context, the Danish stone heaps must be characterized as mainly “death sacrifice throws,” whereas only few were “good luck throws.” Due to the limited size of the country, and early farming, cairns and other road marks have not played the same role as a help for travellers and traffic as it did in our neighbouring countries with their huge waste areas.If the stone piles are considered part of a thousands of years old chain of traditions, they belong to the oldest human “monuments.” The global distribution of the phenomenon endows it with a mystery, which, during a travel in Mongolia, Haslund-Christensen caught with a stroke of genius: “We stood before an oboo, one of the largest I have ever seen...one of those mysterious places of sacrifice which are still secretly preserved, built of stone cast upon stone through many generations; a home of mystery which has its roots in the origin of the people itself, and whose religious significance goes much further back in time than any of the religions in the modern world.”Gustav HenningsenDansk Folkemindesamling Jesper LaursenMoesgård Museum Translated by Annette Lerche Trolle

AbstractCurrent observational evidence seems to indicate that blue stragglers are a dynamically created population, though exactly how the mechanism(s) of formation operates remains a mystery. We search for links between blue straggler formation and environment by considering only those stars found within one core radius of the cluster center. In so doing, we aim to isolate a sample that is representative of an approximately uniform cluster environment where, ideally, a single blue straggler formation mechanism is predominantly operating. Normalized blue straggler frequencies are found and apart from new anticorrelations with the central velocity dispersion and the half-mass relaxation time, we find no other statistically significant trends.Concerns regarding the method of normalization used to calculate relative blue straggler frequencies are discussed, specifically whether the previously observed anticorrelation with total cluster mass (see Piotto et al. 2004) is a consequence of the normalization process. A new correlation between the observed number of blue stragglers in the core and the number predicted from single-single collisions alone is presented. This new link between formation and environment represents the first direct evidence that the blue straggler phenomenon has, at least in part, a collisional origin.

Greedy Perimeter Stateless Routing (GPSR) gives the good forwarding nodes for Mobile Ad Hoc Networks (MANET) but does not provide the right directional forwarding nodes in Vehicular Ad Hoc Network (VANET). This is the fact that MANET uses the nodes without limitations in moving but VANET uses fixed infrastructure in mobility such as roads with lanes. The key of original greedy forwarding is choosing the forwarding node with the shortest distance between the source and the destination. It does not consider the direction of the forwarding nodes, which possibly cause the selected forwarding node going opposite direction from the destination. This paper thus tries to improve the greedy forwarding method of Greedy Perimeter Stateless Routing (GPSR) by taking into considerations in both the distance and the direction. Moreover it shows the mystery of angle that gives the right direction. The optimized GPSR (OGPSR) using improved greedy forwarding provides the better throughput, average end-to-end delay and routing overheads than the original GPSR.

A Feng Shui village landscape features Fukugi (Garcinia subelliptica) tree lines surrounding every house and orderly laid out roads. Such a green landscape, which is assumed to be planned or reformed during the modern Ryukyuan period around 300 years ago, is well preserved in Okinawa Island, Japan, and its nearby isolated islands. But it is still a mystery to the historians when and how these Fukugi trees were planted. In order to clarify the development process of the house-embracing Fukugi trees, all Fukugi trees that were assumed to be older than 100 years in Bise, Tonaki, Imadomari, and Aguni Island were measured. It was found that huge Fukugi trees older than 200 years, cluster around the core area kami-asagi or haisyo inside the village. Both the kami-asagi and haisyo are sacred places where guardian gods were summoned in order to hold ceremonies and rituals. The oldest trees were approximately 300, 268, 294, 296, and 281 years in Bise, Tonaki, Imadomari, Yae (East & West), and Hama in Aguni Island, respectively. These old trees might have been planted prior to the period from 1737 to 1750, when Sai On was a member of the Sanshikan, during which Fukugi trees were planned and recommended. While Fukugi trees might have been planted as windbreaks around the houses prior to the Sai On period, however, the current house-embracing Fukugi tree landscape came into being during the Sai On period based on Feng Shui concepts.

The novel Toorberg is situated in an atmosphere of mystery as some of the characters are dead people who occasionally come back to the farm where they spent their lives. The question arises as to what role the magistrate plays as a realistic representative of law and order in these surroundings (where the Moolmans have learnt to care for their own sins, according to OuAbel Moolman).The answer to this question is to be found in the following: The magistrate is very definitely an outsider, not only because he is a stranger in that area, but also because of his pathetic appearance. As an outsider he has an objective view of the characters, which is useful to his investigation. Actually the magistrate has been sent to investigate the death of Druppeltjie du Pisani, but he fails to a report on the matter. The magistrate is very conscious of his body and particularly of his short arm. This awareness of the body forms a contrast to some of the disembodied characters who roam the farm. There are a number of facts which indicate that the magistrate is a reincarnation of De la Rey. If the theory of reincarnation is accepted, the magistrate himself, reincarnated as De la Rey, is guilty of Druppeltjie’s death, together with the man who fired the shot, according to the magistrate’s own reasoning. This could be a solution to the problem, but it need not be, as the mysteries of Toorberg do not require solutions.

- Joan D. van Andel, H.E. Coomans, Building up the the future from the past; Studies on the architecture and historic monuments in the Dutch Caribbean, Zutphen: De Walburg Pers, 1990, 268 pp., M.A. Newton, M. Coomans-Eustatia (eds.) - Rene van den Berg, James N. Sneddon, Studies in Sulawesi linguistics, Part I, 1989. NUSA, Linguistic studies of Indonesian and other languages in Indonesia, volume 31. Jakarta: Badan Penyelenggara Seri Nusa, Universitas Katolik Indonesia Atma Jaya. - Thomas Crump, H. Beukers, Red-hair medicine: Dutch-Japanese medical relations. Amsterdam/Atlanta, GA: Rodopi, Publications for the Netherlands Association of Japanese studies No. 5, 1991., A.M. Luyendijk-Elshout, M.E. van Opstall (eds.) - M. Heins, Kees P. Epskamp, Theatre in search of social change; The relative significance of different theatrical approaches. Den Haag: CESO Paperback no. 7, 1989. - Rudy De Iongh, Rainer Carle, Opera Batak; Das Wandertheater der Toba-Batak in Nord Sumatra. Schauspiele zur Währung kultureller Identität im nationalen Indonesischen Kontext. Veröffentlichungen des Seminars fur Indonesische und Südseesprachen der Universität Hamburg, Band 15/1 & 15/2 (2 Volumes), Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag, 1990. - P.E. de Josselin de Jong, Birgit Rottger-Rossler, Rang und Ansehen bei den Makassar von Gowa (Süd-Sulawesi, Indonesien), Kölner Ethnologische Studien, Band 15. Dietrich Reimar Verlag, Berlin, 1989. 332 pp. text, notes, glossary, literature. - John Kleinen, Vo Nhan Tri, Vietnam’s economic policy since 1975. Singapore: ASEAN Economic research unit, Institute of Southeast Asian studies, 1990. xii + 295 pp. - H.M.J. Maier, David Banks, From class to culture; Social conscience in Malay novels since independence, Yale, 1987. - Th. C. van der Meij, Robyn Maxwell, Textiles of Southeast Asia; Tradition, trade and transformation. Melbourne/Oxford/Auckland/New York: Australian National Gallery/Oxford University Press. - A.E. Mills, Elinor Ochs, Culture and language development, Studies in the social and cultural foundations of language No. 6, Cambridge University Press, 227 + 10 pp. - Denis Monnerie, Frederick H. Damon, Death rituals and life in the societies of the Kula Ring, Dekalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1989. 280 pp., maps, figs., bibliogr., Roy Wagner (eds.) - Denis Monnerie, Frederick H. Damon, From Muyuw to the Trobriands; Transformations along the northern side of the Kula ring, Tucson: The University of Arizona Press, 1990. xvi + 285 pp., maps, figs., illus., apps., bibliogr., index. - David S. Moyer, Jeremy Boissevain, Dutch dilemmas; Anthropologists look at the Netherlands, Assen/Maastricht: Van Gorcum, 1989, v + 186 pp., Jojada Verrips (eds.) - Gert Oostindie, B.H. Slicher van Bath, Indianen en Spanjaarden; Een ontmoeting tussen twee werelden, Latijns Amerika 1500-1800. Amsterdam: Bert Bakker, 1989. 301 pp. - Parakitri, C.A.M. de Jong, Kompas 1965-1985; Een algemene krant met een katholieke achtergrond binnen het religieus pluralisme van Indonesie, Kampen: Kok, 1990. - C.A. van Peursen, J. van Baal, Mysterie als openbaring. Utrecht: ISOR, 1990. - Harry A. Poeze, R.A. Longmire, Soviet relations with South-East Asia; An historical survey. London-New York: Kegan Paul International, 1989, x + 176 pp. - Harry A. Poeze, Ann Swift, The road to Madiun; The Indonesian communist uprising of 1948. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell Modern Indonesia Project (Monograph series 69), 1989, xii + 116 pp. - Alex van Stipriaan, Cornelis Ch. Goslinga, The Dutch in the Caribbean and in Surinam 1791/5 - 1942, Assen/Maastricht: Van Gorcum, 1990. xii + 812 pp. - A. Teeuw, Keith Foulcher, Social commitment in literature and the arts: The Indonesian ‘Institute of People’s culture’ 1950-1965, Clayton, Victoria: Southeast Asian studies, Monash University (Centre of Southeast Asian studies), 1986, vii + 234 pp. - Elly Touwen-Bouwsma, T. Friend, The blue-eyed enemy; Japan against the West in Java and Luzon, 1942-1945. New Jersey: Princeton University press, 1988, 325 pp.

In 1968, the skeletal remains of an individual believed to have been involved in the Gutiérrez-Magee expedition of 1812-1813 were exhumed south of San Antonio. Since then, the circumstances surrounding what became known as the “Blue Wing Road burial” have remained somewhat of a mystery. This article introduces a new theory that posits that the burial is not directly related to the major battles fought in the region (the Battles of Rosalis and Medina), but more likely an incident involving a Republican detachment encountering Royalists stationed along a well-travelled route.

Hypothyroidism in Chhattisgarh (India) is almost the second most common disease in middle aged and old aged females. First may be Diabetes / Hypertension / Arthritis / Osteoporosis. Hypothyroidism is caused due to under functioning Thyroid gland may be due to primary or secondary causes. The Etiology is still a mystery & is unknown but having strong relation with genetics as well as the environmental pollution, food habits & autoimmunity. The Thyroid gland regulates the metabolism of the body through the release of T3, T4 hormones & have a negative feedback of TSH hormone. A case study was conducted on 70 patients from “Sai Kripa Clinic” Main Road Katora Talab Raipur , Chattisgarh, India. Key words: Hypothyroidism, Autoimmune Disease, Obesity, Arthritis.

In the middle of the nineteenth century, Marcus Clarke famously described the Australian outback as displaying a “Weird Melancholy” (qtd. in Gelder 116). The strange sights, sounds, and experiences of Australia’s rural locations made them ripe for the development of the European genre of the Gothic in a new location, a mutation which has continued over the past two centuries. But what does it mean for Australia’s Gothic landscapes to be associated with the affective qualities of the melancholy? And more particularly, how and why does this Gothic effect (and affect) appear in the most accessible Gothic media of the twenty-first century, the television series? Two recent Australian television adaptations, Wake in Fright (2017, dir. Kriv Stenders) and Mystery Road (2018, dir. Rachel Perkins) provoke us to ask the question: how does their pictorial representation of the Australian outback and its inhabitants overtly express rage and its close ties to melancholia, shame and violence? More particularly, I argue that in both series this rage is turned inwards rather than outwards; rage is turned into melancholy and thus to self-destruction – which constructs an allegory for the malaise of our contemporary nation. However, here the two series differ. While Wake in Fright posits this as a never-ending narrative, in a true Freudian model of melancholics who fail to resolve or attend to their trauma, Mystery Road is more positive in its positioning, allowing the themes of apology and recognition to appear, both necessary for reparation and forward movement.Steven Bruhm has argued that a psychoanalytic model of trauma has become the “best [way to] understand the contemporary Gothic and why we crave it” (268), because the repressions and repetitions of trauma offer a means of playing out the anxieties of our contemporary nation, its fraught histories, its conceptualisations of identity, and its fears for the future. Indeed, as Bruhm states, it is precisely because of the way in which “the Gothic continually confronts us with real, historical traumas that we in the west have created” that they “also continue to control how we think about ourselves as a nation” (271). Jerrold E. Hogle agrees, noting that “Gothic fiction has always begun with trauma” (72). But it is not only that Gothic narratives are best understood as traumatic narratives; rather, Hogle posits that the Gothic is uniquely situated as a genre for dealing with the trauma of our personal and national histories because it enables us to approach the contradictions and conflicts of traumatic experience:I find that the best of the post-9/11 uses of Gothic in fiction achieve that purpose for attentive readers by using the conflicted un-naturalness basic to the Gothic itself to help us concurrently grasp and conceal how profoundly conflicted we are about the most immediate and pervasive cultural “woundings” of our western world as it has come to be. (75)Hogle’s point is critical for its attention to the different ways trauma can be dealt with in texts and by readers, returning in part to Sigmund Freud’s distinction between mourning and melancholia: where mourning is the ‘healthy’ process of working through or narrativising trauma. However, melancholia coalesces into a denial or repression of the traumatic event, and thus, as Freud suggests, its unresolved status reappears during nightmares and flashbacks, for example (Rall 171). Hogle’s praise for the Gothic, however, lies in its ability to move away from that binary, to “concurrently grasp and conceal” trauma: in other words, to respond simultaneously with mourning and with melancholy.Hogle adds to this classic perspective of melancholia through careful attention to the way in which rage inflects these affective responses. Under a psychoanalytic model, rage can be seen “as an infantile response to separation and loss” (Kahane 127). The emotional free-rein of rage, Claire Kahane points out, “disempowers us as subjects, making us subject to its regressive vicissitudes” (127; original emphasis). In Bodies That Matter, Judith Butler explicates this in more detail, making clear that this disempowerment, this inability to clearly express oneself, is what leads to melancholia. Melancholia, then, can be seen as a loss or repression of the identifiable cause of the original rage: this overwhelming emotion has masked its original target. “Insofar as grief remains unspeakable”, Butler posits, “the rage over the loss can redouble by virtue of remaining unavowed. And if that very rage over loss is publicly proscribed, the melancholic effects of such a proscription can achieve suicidal proportions” (212). The only way to “survive” rage in this mutated form of melancholia is to create what Butler terms “collective institutions for grieving”; these enablethe reassembling of community, the reworking of kinship, the reweaving of sustaining relations. And insofar as they involve the publicisation and dramatisation of death, they call to be read as life-affirming rejoinders to the dire psychic consequences of a grieving process culturally thwarted and proscribed. (212-13)Butler’s reading thus aligns with Hogle’s, suggesting that it is in our careful attendance to the horrific experience of grief (however difficult) that we could navigate towards something like resolution – not a simplified narrative of working through, to be sure, but a more ethical recognition of the trauma which diverts it from its repressive impossibilities. To further the argument, it is only by transforming melancholic rage into outrage, to respond with an affect that puts shame to work, that rage will become politically effective. So, outrage is “a socialised and mediated form of rage … directed toward identifiable and bounded others in the external world” (Kahane 127-28). Melancholia and shame might then be seen to be directly opposed to one another: the former a failure of rage, the latter its socially productive incarnation.The Australian Gothic and its repetition of a “Weird Melancholy” exhibit this affective model. Ken Gelder has emphasised the historical coincidences: since Australia was colonised around the same time as the emergence of the Gothic as a genre (115), it has always been infused with what he terms a “colonial melancholia” (119). In contemporary Gothic narratives, this is presented through the repetition of the trauma of loss and injustice, so that the colonial “history of brutal violence and exploitation” (121) is played out, over and over again, desperate for resolution. Indeed, Gelder goes so far as to claim that this is the primary fuel for the Gothic as it manifests in Australian literature and film, arguing that since it is “built upon its dispossession and killings of Aboriginal people and its foundational systems of punishment and incarceration, the colonial scene … continues to shadow Australian cultural production and helps to keep the Australian Gothic very much alive” (121).That these two recent television series depict the ways in which rage and outrage appear in a primal ‘colonial scene’ which fixes the Australian Gothic within a political narrative. Both Wake in Fright and Mystery Road are television adaptations of earlier works. Wake in Fright is adapted from Kenneth Cook’s novel of the same name (1961), and its film adaptation (1971, dir. Ted Kotcheff). Mystery Road is a continuation of the film narrative of the same name (2013, dir. Ivan Sen), and its sequel, Goldstone (2016, dir. Ivan Sen). Both narratives illustrate the shift – where the films were first viewed by a high-culture audience attracted to arthouse cinema and modernist fiction – to the re-makes that are viewed in the domestic space of the television screen and/or other devices. Likewise, the television productions were not seen as single episodes, but also linked to each network’s online on-demand streaming viewers, significantly broadening the audience for both works. In this respect, these series both domesticate and democratise the Gothic. The televised series become situated publicly, recalling the broad scale popularity of the Gothic genre, what Helen Wheatley terms “the most domestic of genres on the most domestic of media” (25). In fact, Deborah Cartmell argues that “adaptation is, indeed, the art form of democracy … a ‘freeing’ of a text from the confined territory of its author and of its readers” (8; emphasis added). Likewise, André Bazin echoes this notion that the adaptation is a kind of “digest” of the original work, “a literature that has been made more accessible through cinematic adaptation” (26; emphasis added). In this way, adaptations serve to ‘democratise’ their concerns, focussing these narratives and their themes as more publically accessible, and thus provoking the potential for a broader cultural discussion. Wake in FrightWake in Fright describes the depraved long weekend of schoolteacher John Grant, who is stuck in the rural town of Bundinyabba (“The Yabba”) after he loses all of his money in an ill-advised game of “Two Up.” Modernising the concerns of the original film, in this adaptation John is further endangered by a debt to local loan sharks, and troubled by his frequent flashbacks to his lost lover. The narrative does display drug- and alcohol-induced rage in its infamous pig-shooting (originally roo-shooting) scene, as well as the cold and threatening rage of the loan shark who suspects she will not be paid, both of which are depicted as a specifically white aggression. Overall, its primary depiction of rage is directed inward, rather than outward, and in this way becomes narrowed down to emphasise a more individual, traumatic shame. That is, John’s petulant rage after his girlfriend’s rejection of his marriage proposal manifests in his determination to stolidly drink alone while she swims in the ocean. When she drowns while he is drunk and incapable to rescue her, his inaction becomes the primary source of his shame and exacerbates his self-focused, but repressed rage. The subsequent cycles of drinking (residents of The Yabba only drink beer, and plenty of it) and gambling (as he loses over and over at Two-Up) constitute a repetition of his original trauma over her drowning, and trigger the release of his repressed rage. While accompanying some locals during their drunken pig-shooting expedition, his rage finds an outlet, resulting in the death of his new acquaintance, Doc Tydon. Like John, Doc is the victim of a self-focused rage and shame at the death of his young child and the abdication of his responsibilities as the town’s doctor. Both John and Doc depict the collapse of authority and social order in the “Weird Melancholy” of the outback (Rayner 27), but this “subversion of the stereotype of capable, confident Australian masculinity” (37) and the decay of community and social structure remains static. However, the series does not push forward towards a moral outcome or a suggestion of better actions to inspire the viewer. Even his desperate suicide attempt, what he envisions as the only ‘ethical’ way out of his nightmare, ends in failure and is covered up by the local police. The narrative becomes circular: for John is returned to The Yabba every time he tries to leave, and even in the final scene he is back in Tiboonda, returned to where he started, standing at the front of his classroom. But importantly, this cycle mimics John’s cycle of unresolved shame, suggests an inability to ‘wake’ from this nightmare of repetition, with no acknowledgement of his individual history and his complicity in the traumatic events. Although John has outlived his suicide attempt, this does not validate his survival as a rebirth. Rather, John’s refusal of responsibility and the accompanying complicity of local authorities suggests the inevitability of further self-damaging rage, shame, and violence. Outback NoirBoth Wake in Fright and Mystery Road have been described as “outback noir” (Dolgopolov 12), combining characteristics of the Gothic, the Western, and film noir in their depictions of suffering and the realisation (or abdication) of justice. Greg Dolgopolov explains that while traditional “film noir explores the moral trauma of crime on its protagonists, who are often escaping personal suffering or harrowing incidents from their pasts” (12), these examples of Australian (outback) noir are primarily concerned with “ancestral trauma – that of both Indigenous and settler. Outback noir challenges official versions of events that glide over historical massacres and current injustices” (12-13).Wake in Fright’s focus on John’s personal suffering even as his crimes could become allegories for national trauma, aligns this story with traditional film noir. Mystery Road is caught up with a more collectivised form of trauma, and with the ‘colonialism’ of outback noir means this adaptation is more effective in locating self-rage and melancholia as integral to social and cultural dilemmas of contemporary Australia. Each series takes a different path to the treatment of race relations in Australia within a small and isolated rural context. Wake in Fright chooses to ignore this historical context, setting up the cycle of John’s repression of trauma as an individual fate, and he is trapped to repeat it. On the other hand, Mystery Road, just like its cinematic precursors (Mystery Road and Goldstone), deals with race as a specific theme. Mystery Road’s nod to the noir and the Western is emphasised by the character of Detective Jay Swan: “a lone gunslinger attempting to uphold law and order” (Ward 111), he swaggers around the small township in his cowboy hat, jeans, and boots, stoically searching for clues to the disappearance of two local teenagers. Since Swan is himself Aboriginal, this transforms the representation of authority and its failures depicted in Wake in Fright. While the police in Wake in Fright uphold the law only when convenient to their own goals, and further, to undertake criminal activities themselves, in Mystery Road the authority figures – Jay himself, and his counterpart, Senior Sergeant Emma James, are prominent in the community and dedicated to the pursuit of justice. It is highly significant that this sense of justice reaches beyond the present situation. Emma’s family, the Ballantynes, have been prominent landowners and farmers in the region for over one hundred years, and have always prided themselves on their benevolence towards the local Indigenous population. However, when Emma discovers that her great-grandfather was responsible for the massacre of several young Aboriginal men at the local waterhole, she is overcome by shame. In her horrified tears we see how the legacy of trauma, ever present for the Aboriginal population, is brought home to Emma herself. As the figurehead for justice in the town, Emma is determined to label the murders accurately as a “crime” which must “be answered.” In this acknowledgement and her subsequent apology to Dot, she finds some release from this ancient shame.The only Aboriginal characters in Wake in Fright are marginal to the narrative – taxi drivers who remain peripheral to the traumas within the small town, and thus remain positioned as innocent bystanders to its depravity. However, Mystery Road is careful to avoid such reductionist binaries. Just as Emma discovers the truth about her own family’s violence, Uncle Keith, the current Aboriginal patriarch, is exposed as a sexual predator. In both cases the men, leaders in the past and the present, consider themselves as ‘righteous’ in order to mask their enraged and violent behaviour. The moral issue here is more than a simplistic exposition on race, rather it demonstrates that complexity surrounds those who achieve power. When Dot ultimately ‘inherits’ responsibility for the Aboriginal Land Rights Commission this indicates that Mystery Road concludes with two female figures of authority, both looking out for the welfare of the community as a whole. Likewise, they are involved in seeking the young woman, Shevorne, who becomes the focus of abuse and grief, and her daughter. Although Jay is ultimately responsible for solving the crime at the heart of the series, Mystery Road strives to position futurity and responsibility in the hands of its female characters and their shared sense of community.In conclusion, both television adaptations of classic movies located in Australian outback noir have problematised rage within two vastly different contexts. The adaptations Wake in Fright and Mystery Road do share similar themes and concerns in their responses to past traumas and how that shapes Gothic representation of the outback in present day Australia. However, it is in their treatment of rage, shame, and violence that they diverge. Wake in Fright’s failure to convert rage beyond melancholia means that it fails to offer any hope of resolution, only an ongoing cycle of shame and violence. But rage, as a driver for injustice, can evolve into something more positive. In Mystery Road, the anger of both individuals and the community as a whole moves beyond good/bad and black/white stereotypes of outrage towards a more productive form of shame. In doing so, rage itself can elicit a new model for a more responsible contemporary Australian Gothic narrative.References Bazin, André. “Adaptation, or the Cinema as Digest.” Film Adaptation. 1948. Ed. James Naremore. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers, 2000. 19-27.Bruhm, Steven. “The Contemporary Gothic: Why We Need It.” The Cambridge Companion to Gothic Fiction. Ed. Jerrold E. Hogle. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2002. 259-76.Butler, Judith. Bodies That Matter: On the Discursive Limits of “Sex.” London: Routledge, 1993.Cartmell, Deborah. “100+ Years of Adaptations, or, Adaptation as the Art Form of Democracy.” A Companion to Literature, Film, and Adaptation. Ed. Deborah Cartmell. Chichester: Blackwell, 2012. 1-13.Dolgopolov, Greg. “Balancing Acts: Ivan Sen’s Goldstone and ‘Outback Noir.’” Metro 190 (2016): 8-13.Gelder, Ken. “Australian Gothic.” The Routledge Companion to Gothic. Eds. Catherine Spooner and Emma McEvoy. London: Routledge, 2007. 115-23.Hogle, Jerrold E. “History, Trauma and the Gothic in Contemporary Western Fictions.” The Gothic World. Eds. Glennis Byron and Dale Townshend. London: Routledge, 2014. 72-81.Kahane, Claire. “The Aesthetic Politics of Rage.” States of Rage: Emotional Eruption, Violence, and Social Change. Eds. Renée R. Curry and Terry L. Allison. New York: New York UP, 1996. 126-45.Perkins, Rachel, dir. Mystery Road. ABC, 2018.Rall, Denise N. “‘Shock and Awe’ and Memory: The Evocation(s) of Trauma in post-9/11 Artworks.” Memory and the Wars on Terror: Australian and British Perspectives. Eds. Jessica Gildersleeve and Richard Gehrmann. Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017. 163-82.Rayner, Jonathan. Contemporary Australian Cinema: An Introduction. Manchester: Manchester UP, 2000.Stenders, Kriv, dir. Wake in Fright. Roadshow Entertainment, 2017.Ward, Sarah. “Shadows of a Sunburnt Country: Mystery Road, the Western and the Conflicts of Contemporary Australia.” Screen Education 81 (2016): 110-15.Wheatley, Helen. “Haunted Houses, Hidden Rooms: Women, Domesticity and the Gothic Adaptation on Television.” Popular Television Drama: Critical Perspectives. Eds. Jonathan Bignell and Stephen Lacey. Manchester: Manchester UP, 2005. 149-65.

AbstractThis article explores the concept of human dignity in the work of French philosopher Gabriel Marcel. It demonstrates how this lesser-known aspect of his philosophical thinking is organic to his work and draws attention to the current relevance of the way he resolves the question of human dignity for philosophy and ethics. The first part of the article looks at the basic ideas behind Marcel’s understanding of man as a being on the road, as unfinished, temporal, in the process of becoming, and creatively open on the road of transcendence to the mystery of being. This is followed by an explanation of Marcel’s criticism of the traditional understanding of human dignity (on both the social and ontological levels), which has degenerated into the formalism. Criticizing this rationalist (Kantian) conception of dignity as a particular kind of power, Gabriel Marcel produces an original conception of existential dignity as weakness—the fragile vulnerable finitude of the human individual. But it is an active weakness/finitude that lies in the ability of the individual to creatively resist attempts to humiliate him and in his effort to recognize his unique human values. Part of this finitude, on the inter-subjective level, is an encounter with the neighbour in love, which is a service to others in defence of man’s weakness. The author draws attention to the fact that Marcel’s conception of human dignity has been partially accepted in philosophy, ethics and bioethics.

Directed by Rachel Perkins in 1998, Radiance is a film that deserves a sequel. The fates of Mae, Cressy and Nona after they head off up the road in Mae's old car is a cinematic mystery that intrigues me more the longer I live in North Queensland, the place in which both Radiance the film and its antecedent, Radiance the play (Nowra 1993), are set. This essay does not attempt to investigate, much less solve this mystery, but instead deepens it by considering aspects of location, setting and narration in the film, which was co-scripted by Perkins and Nowra, as well as the process of transposition from play to film (Nowra 2003). Setting, used to realise the gothic aspects of the drama, marks the transposition between these otherwise similar versions of Radiance. Even local audiences fall for the film's mesmerising re-creation of the sub-region of North Queensland selected as a setting and in spite of minimal allusions even to Queensland in the dialogue. The house, the canefields, the beach and the island are 'regional sign systems' (Whitlock 1994) that present a convincing depiction of the place in which we dwell; some even say these features look familiar. Perkins (2003) tells how she set the film in Queensland to honour the setting of the original play, and she speaks of travelling to Queensland to gain the "atmosphere" of the place, and to choose locations. In fact, the locations chosen were far from North Queensland: Agnes Water, Rosedale, Childers, Bundaberg and Hervey Bay, as well as Max Film Studies in Sydney, while Nora Island "is a fabrication although some people swear they recognize it," says Nowra (2000, xiii). Radiance therefore comes to stand for the remarkable power of film to suggest a reality, and for the importance of location in telling a story on film.

One of the most controversial discussions in the contemporary Indian arts environment remains the connection of the post-colonial classical dance practice with the DevadƗsƯ or the MaharƯ, the temple dancing girls. Born in the Early Medieval India, amidst and in close connection to the Bhakti and the Tantric movements, abiding in the temple institution, the so-called ‘DevadƗsƯ temple system’ remains a mystery, between awe and fascination to the nowadays practitioner and connaisseur of Indian arts. While tracing back the socio-religious contexts that brought the temple dancers on the foremost place of the stage of Indian art history, the author looks for the understanding of this myth in the imaginary and the reality of contemporary practitioners, from the perspective of a foreigner researcher-cum-practitioner of an Indian art form. The paper is based on consulting the existing literary sources concerning the DevadƗsƯ system, and the research is focusing on the nowadays classical dance practitioners’ imaginary (re)construction(s) of this system. Till today, here she stands, the woman-as-dance practitioner, either Indian or from any other part of the world, at the cross-road of all myths, imaginarily rooted in the past, but living all the aspirations of the nowadays social, cultural, religious, political dynamics, neither celestial maiden, nor sacred prostitute.

While stylistics has successfully integrated the study of language use in film and television, relatively little research has tried to systematically classify the functions of television or film dialogue – i.e. to taxonomise its range of potential stylistic functions such as characterisation or the creation of consistency. Most stylistic research has also focussed on traditional US (Hollywood) or European narrative mass media, rather than culturally-diverse or Indigenous-authored film and television. This article aims to make a contribution to both of these under-examined fields by offering a case study of the stylistic functions of Australian Aboriginal English lexis in three successful Indigenous-authored television series. The three series ( Redfern Now, Cleverman and Mystery Road) are all important for the television canon and were broadcast in Australia as well as exported internationally. Using an existing corpus with dialogue from these series as repository, this article illustrates the different functions of Australian Aboriginal English lexis in its surrounding text by critically examining multiple dialogue extracts from the three narratives. Quotations from Indigenous screen creatives are interwoven with the analysis where relevant. We argue that such lexis fulfils many functions beyond characterisation and demonstrate the significance of communicating culture and identity in Indigenous-authored drama. The study has implications both for the stylistic analysis of the multiple functions of television/film dialogue and for the study of narratives that feature significant creative involvement by marginalised, subjugated, colonised, or otherwise historically excluded communities – including but not limited to Aboriginal and/or Torres Strait islander people(s) in Australia.

In dit artikel wordt de apotheek uit de museumopstelling van het Huis van Alijn besproken, samen met enkele bijbehorende naturaliën en objecten Het interieur is in Franse Charles X-stijl, een unicum, want deze stijl heeft slechts gedurende tien jaar succes gekend. In de inventaris van de apotheek bevinden zich enkele intrigerende objecten : twee zaagvissnuiten, waarvan één met een raadselachtige rebus is beschilderd, en een grote glazen globe op een balustersokkel. Deze objecten worden besproken en hun mogelijke functie of betekenis beschreven. Wij stellen vast dat er een verband moet gelegd worden tussen de medico-magische eigenschappen toegeschreven aan de mythische eenhoorn en de zaagvissnuit. De glazen pronkglobes waren tot midden in de vorige eeuw algemeen verspreid. Men trof ze aan op de toonbank en/of voor het raam van de apotheek. Over de oorsprong van deze pronkglobes doen verschillende verhalen de ronde. Of ze ooit een andere dan een zuiver decoratieve functie hebben gehad, is evenwel niet zeker.