Journal articles on the topic 'New liberator magazine'

The article reconstructs the discourse of film criticism in Liberator – a radical African American magazine published between 1961 and 1971. Employing Pierre Bourdieu’s theory of the cultural field, the author situates Liberator within the context of the 1960s, civil rights movement, and Black Arts movement, and analyses the magazine’s role in film culture of the era, as well as the links between the magazine and important black filmmakers and film writers. Four aspects of Liberator’s film criticism are explored: cultural memory of past representations, criticism of genre filmmaking, the need for cinematic realism, and the possibility of creating a distinct black cinema. The case study of the critic Clayton Riley’s career presents an author who wanted to continue his radical criticism in the mainstream press (The New York Times). Liberator’s legacy is framed as essential in understanding the tradition of African American film criticism.

About a decade ago, I discovered an unknown poem attributed to Robert Browning in two New York abolitionist periodicals, and published an article about it here in Victorian Literature and Culture. I made the case that the poem, a dramatic monologue entitled “The King is Cold,” sounds like Browning in ways that suggest either its authenticity or the early familiarity of an American audience with Browning's style; and I closed the article with the statement, “By bringing ‘The King is Cold’ to light, I hope to encourage further speculation and inquiry as to its place either among Browning's collected works, or within the larger field of Browning scholarship that includes the study of his American reputation” (469). Since then, electronic databases have automated broad, sweeping searches of periodicals, and now the relevant information is easily discovered: the poem was in fact written by Richard Henry Stoddard, the American poet and man of letters. It was first published under Browning's name in the New York News sometime late in 1857, and was correctly ascribed to Stoddard in Russell's Magazine in December of that year; I found this information by searching in the American Periodicals Series Online, 1740–1900. The abolitionist reprintings (in the National Anti-Slavery Standard and the Liberator) apparently followed the version in the New York News, and the misattribution was perpetuated. Indeed, the poem reappeared in another New York periodical, Munsey's Scrap Book, in 1909, where it was still being given out as Robert Browning's. “The King is Cold” was also included as Browning's in William Cullen Bryant's oft-reprinted New Library of Poetry and Song.

The purpose of this paper is to discuss the plan pursued by contemporary children's literature through various discourses of children's magazines in South and North Korea during the liberation period. The children's magazines of South and North Korea during the liberation period reveal education, society, literature, and politics as a literary space, and each children's magazine develops various theories and contents of the work.The children's magazines of South and North Korea during the liberation period allowed children of the time to expand their consciousness through 'education', 'culture', 'Hangeul', 'children's writing', and 'propaganda'. This is an important point to consider as a stepping stone for the formation of a new nation. This study presents an important point of insight into social problems, culture, and literature through various discourses of children's magazines in South and North Korea during the liberation period.

This Study is on Korean magazine the Samchunri’s reporting New Woman in 1930’s. Kim Donghwan who had published this magazine from 1928 to 1941. His motivation to publish magazine the Samchunri is influenced by Shinganwhoi which unite the left and the right movement in 1920’s. The Samchunri reports on woman’s liberation, which divided into two, the nationalist and the socialist. The nationalist efforted on discrimination against woman by address and education. On the other hands, the socialist declare to overcome discrimination against Korean women, they should struggle against Japanese imperialism and capitalism. The way magazine the Samchunri to report woman’s problem is not serious, satisfying readers’ curiousty. writing on articles critcizing New Korean Woman.

The purpose of this paper is to shed new light on Yun Dong-ju's life and poetry by analyzing the “Chosun Ilbo”, “Boy”, and “Moon woo”, which are important bibliographic data during Yun Dong-ju's Yeonhui Technical College. This paper examined Yun Dong-ju's “An impression paiting of My younger Brother” published in the “Chosun Ilbo” ‘Student Page’ in October 1938, in connection with the post-impressionism art and discussed Yun Dong-ju's interest in the modern succession of traditional Chosun Dynasty culture. In addition, Yun Dong-ju met Yun Seok-joong when he released ‘A Mountain Cry’ in “Boy” in March 1939, and Yun Seok-joong will publish four of Yun Dong-ju's poetry ‘A Mountain Cry’, ‘Sunlight and Wind’, ‘Sunflower Face’ and ‘Baby Dawn’ in the magazine “A young student” after liberation, and three except ‘A mountain cry’ were released for the first time since liberation. In June 1941, Yun Dong-ju announces “A New Way” and “Self-potrait in a Well” in the magazine “Moon woo” published by Yeonhui Technical College, which shows the will of Yeonhui Technical College students to open a new era based on our traditional culture despite the harsh reality of Japan's Imperial New Folkization Policy.

ABSTRACT This article examines the Afro-Asian Writers’ Association’s (AAWA) magazine, Lotus, as an example of the cultural discourse of Afro-Asianism and the logistical and political challenges of institutionalizing a Third World literary canon within the broader context of Cold War alliances. The author's focus on the magazine’s conceptual vocabulary and its internal mechanisms reveals how anticolonial writers and cultural actors brought their own different (often, competing) versions of Marxism and varying degrees of alignment with Soviet-style socialism to the project of cultural decolonization and contributed to a global socialist order. Concerns of literary form, political liberation, and the context of noncommercial patronage shaped an all-encompassing cumulative aesthetic that was not always aligned with Moscow mandates. Her reading of the Lotus archive also draws out the frictions between various geopolitical pivots of the Afro-Asian—a focus on nation, civilization, race, and the larger socialist internationalism—to contribute to studies of the political entanglements between postcolonial and postsocialist studies that can offer insights into current geopolitical predicaments, especially for regions that continue to suffer from new and old forms of occupation and imperialism.

The self-defense of Sassoon in 1904 occupies a unique place in the Western Armenian national-liberation struggle. This is one of the unique episodes of the liberation struggle, when the struggle had united, both to all the Hayduks and to the national parties: Hnchakyan, Dashnaktsutyun, despite their obvious differences. The struggle is presented in the article according to "Droshak", which reflected the events of those years with the greatest accuracy, because his information was supplemented by the direct participants of that struggle and with letters from leading figures, which were written in the mess of events under new impressions. This fact has great importance, as the memoirs of the liberation figures were written years after the events and many details are left out . “Droshak"comes to fill that gap. In article is discussed the well-prepared siege of Sassoon by the Turkish government, which presented for many years as a revolt, rather than self-defense. Besides the Turkish government, that point of view was also advanced by the tsarist authorities. However, the fact that rebellions took place in Sassoon in 1894 and 1904 is a falsification of historical events and the birthplace of that falsehood was ottoman court Yltzn. The purpose of the forgery Sassoon's responsibility for the epic events put on the Armenians (Poghosyan S. 1989).

Abstract This article examines love as a facet of nation building in constructions of modern womanhood and national identity in the 1950s and 1960s. In Tunisia and France, romantic love was evoked to define an urban, middle-class modernity in which the gender norms implicit in companionate marriage signaled a break with the past. These ideals were represented in fiction and women's magazines and elaborated in the novel genre of the advice column. Yet this celebration was interrupted by concern about “mixed marriage” and the rise of anti-immigrant discrimination targeting North Africans in France. Referring to race or religion, debates about interracial marriage in Tunisia and the sexual stereotyping of North African men in France reveal the continuity of colonialism's racial legacies upon postcolonial states. The idealization of marital choice as a testament to individual and national modernity was destabilized by transnational intimacies revealing the limits of the nation-state's liberatory promise to women.

This article examines love as a facet of nation building in constructions of modern womanhood and national identity in the 1950s and 1960s. In Tunisia and France, romantic love was evoked to define an urban, middle-class modernity in which the gender norms implicit in companionate marriage signaled a break with the past. These ideals were represented in fiction and women’s magazines and elaborated in the novel genre of the advice column. Yet this celebration was interrupted by concern about “mixed marriage” and the rise of anti-immigrant discrimination targeting North Africans in France. Referring to race or religion, debates about interracial marriage in Tunisia and the sexual stereotyping of North African men in France reveal the continuity of colonialism’s racial legacies upon postcolonial states. The idealization of marital choice as a testament to individual and national modernity was destabilized by transnational intimacies revealing the limits of the nation-state’s liberatory promise to women.

This article examines the "sexual revolution" of the 1960s and 1970s in Italy from the perspective of emotional history. Drawing mainly on unpublished oral sources and advice columns in women's magazines, it assesses the contribution of the feminist method of consciousness-raising to the reception of and reaction to the so-called sexual revolution. Focusing on the ‘long 1968' as it unfolded in Italy, I analyse how the new models of an apparently freer sexuality were appropriated and adapted to the emotional counter-community created by feminists practising consciousness-raising towards what would later be defined as sexual liberation, and I discuss the openings and limits that this approach has entailed.

Este artigo objetiva contextualizar e analisar os significados da Revista Charrua (1984-1986), periódico idealizado e publicado por um grupo de jovens escritores imbuídos de ideias e intenções de demarcar um novo momento da literatura moçambicana, distanciando-se das retóricas de intelectual revolucionário e poesia de combate, caras ao projeto nacional do Estado-Frelimo. Para tal, contextualizo brevemente o momento da formação da Frente de Libertação de Moçambique, e mais amplamente o período após a independência, marcado pelo início de uma guerra civil, bem como por um projeto nacionalista autoritário, a envolver a elaboração de um conceito de cultura moçambicana.Palavras-chave: Revista Charrua, Moçambique, literatura moçambicana, Frelimo, Renamo, poesia de combate.Abstract:This paper aims to contextualize and analyze the meanings of Charrua Magazine (1984-1986), idealized and published by a group of young writers imbued with ideas and intentions of lining off a new moment in Mozambican literature, distancing from the rhetoric of revolutionary intellectual and combat poetry, dear to the State’s national project. In order to accomplish that, I briefly contextualize the moment of Mozambique Liberation Front’s formation, e more widely the moment after independence, marked by the beginning of a civil war, as well as by an authoritarian nationalist project, which involved the elaboration of a concept of Mozambican culture.Keywords: Charrua Magazine, Mozambique, Mozambican literature, Frelimo, Renamo, combat poetry.

Abstract This text was written on the occasion of the 200th issue of Maska magazine. My goal is to identify and interpret the time when the text is written and when the 200th issue of Maska will be published. I identified a situation of sociability at the time of the coronavirus pandemic and the dominance of digital/postdigital communications. I am interested in the difference between media representation, virus events and political-or-artistic interpretation of modern and transitional forms of human life. If we are talking about digital art/culture/society in relation to the technological turns from the mechanical to the analogue-electronic world, from the analogue to the digital world, from the digital world to the post-digital world, and from the post-digital world into a De Re media possible world, then we are facing a conflict between the dialectic of emancipation through the new and the differentiation of the production/and/consumption of the new in a time and space where the human being is becoming the product of its own product. It is important to index the contemporary antagonism between the ‘digital proletarian’ and ‘digital fascism’. Confronted with digital fascism, digital proletarians pursue a risky process of self-fulfilment and thereby liberation/emancipation in complex digital practices and their impacts on other forms of existence – in a critical and dialectic ontology. Therein lies the essential difference between the politics of functionalism and that of liberation.

The images constructed in the Soviet period occupy a special place in contemporary Russian culture. Our culture retains links with them whether they continue to exist or attempts are made to deny or overcome them. The article is devoted to the formation of the concept of “Soviet man”, which is often interpreted in a generalized sense in modern Humanities. The novelty of the research is that it focuses on the ima­ge of “Soviet woman”, a gender stereotype introduced by all power of propaganda machine. The work recorded the enrichment of the “working woman” ima­ge with new meanings of “socially active mother”, which appeared in the 1930s. According to the author, this change of the power discourse is based on the implementation of the “social motherhood” project. As a result, the constructed image of the woman “libera­ted from domestic slavery and working socially active mother” became a model and broadcasted by propaganda during the next two decades. In fact, “liberation and equality” declared in the 1920s turned into excuse of the double burden. Remaining a shock worker and social acti­vist, she should comply with ideal of a healthy mother with a healthy child. This is how the ideal Soviet woman appeared, who does everything and is able to do everything, achieves everything herself and actively realizes the opportunities provided by the Soviet power.The sources of the study were articles, letters, reports and illustrations published in 1930—1935 in the magazine “Rabotnitsa”, issued by the Central Committee of the All-Union Communist Party of the Bolsheviks. The author chose this magazine because it had a targeted gender audience, a considerable circulation (about 350,000 copies) and was published three times a month.

This article is devoted to the analysis of the rhetoric presented in the Russian press in 1814—1818 regarding the imperial policy in the newly annexed Kingdom of Poland. The aim of the authors is to show that it is necessary to separate the real policy of the Russian autocracy in this territory from the images created first by French publicists, and then repeatedly exaggerated by Russian journalists. It is noted that Alexander I in 1814—1818 appears on the pages of French publications as a tsar-liberator. It is shown that these stories were quickly picked up by Russian newspapers and magazines and, as a result, a paradoxical picture emerged: for several years the mass media convinced the Russian society that the Russian Tsar was the new Polish national sovereign. It is argued that this, of course, caused rejection in conservative circles and among advanced Westerners such as Vyazemsky or Turgenev. It is concluded that it is the dominant discourse that can be considered, on the one hand, one of the factors in the emergence of the Decembrist movement, and on the other, a “trap” for Alexander I, since the liberal rhetoric of the press over time began to diverge more and more from the real policy of the Russian autocracy.

Almost a century ago, Memduh Selim wrote in the Kurdish magazine Jîn, which appeared in Istanbul, about the importance of festivals and commemorations for national awareness, and he urged the Kurds to follow the example of other nations and cultivate their national days. The mobilising potential of such celebrations and the various symbols associated with them has been amply proven in the case of the Kurds. As the major festivals to be celebrated, Memduh Bey mentioned Kurdish New Year (sersal) and the day of Kawa the Blacksmith, the hero who slew the tyrannical king Zahhak. He believed that the latter day was to be celebrated towards the end of summer. Later generations joined the symbol of Kawa’s uprising to the spring festival, making Newroz/Nowruz a festival of rebirth, resistance and liberation. Although other Iranian and Turkic peoples also celebrate Nowruz, the day has acquired a distinct symbolic meaning for the Kurds. The festival and the myth associated with it are shared by Kurds of all countries; it has become a core aspect of Kurdish identity as well as a symbol of the Kurdish struggle against oppression.

Discothèques, fuelled by sexual liberation (both gay and straight), influenced fashion, music, nightlife entertainment, dancing and society for several years during the 1970s. New York City (NYC) was the epicentre of the disco scene. Sexual freedoms, fuelled by the birth control pill and the repeal of laws in NYC against same-sex dancing, played out in the hedonistic disco venues, the most infamous, Studio 54. The 1977 film, Saturday Night Fever, inspired by the popularity of disco dancing in New York, introduced the dance phenomena to the world, spawning a slew of copycats. The fashion world took notice and disco looks filled the runways and fashion magazines. Part of this new freedom was embodied in recently developed synthetic fabrics that promised easy care, brilliant colour and fluid movement. Disco’s downfall was precipitated by the advent of the HIV/AIDS epidemic that threatened both homosexual and heterosexual sexual expression, coinciding with a backlash orchestrated by rock and roll fans. The fashion world in turn revolted against synthetic fabrics, claiming that natural fibres were chic and polyester was cheap. Disco came to a crashing halt in the early 1980s as these social factors, coupled with the ‘death to disco’ campaign, orchestrated by rock music radio stations, ended the short-lived era.

At the end of the Second World War, the countries of Western Europe found themselves in a state of economic and physical ruin and, in the cases of Germany, Italy and France, in a position of, at best, moral and political ambiguity and, at worst, outright bankrupcy. Only Britain emerged from the war with its political regime intact and its moral purpose vindicated, although paradoxically its economy was to prove the most severely wounded. Perhaps because of the very scale of the disaster, however, Western Europe embarked upon a process of reconstruction, aided financially by the Marshall Plan, which embodied grandiose ambitions for a radical rebirth. The Italian Communist Party's weekly magazine, for example, was called Rinascita, whilst the French Communist weekly Les Lettres Françaises celebrated a ‘new French “renaissance”, encompassing political life, urban redevelopment and a whole range of cultural development, which was seen, in the early days of the Liberation, as the legitimate reward and goal of the Resistance’. In Germany, the recognition of 1945 as constituting a Nullpunkt or Stunde Null, made possible the Kahlschlag, or clean sweep which would propel the new Republic towards democracy and prosperity. Even in Britain, there was the sense of the dawning of a new era, and if the Festival of Britain, in 1951, looked back to the Great Exhibition a century earlier and celebrated traditional British qualities, whilst also flexing the nation's industrial and military muscles, with the death of King George VI and the accession of his daughter, the country embarked, quite literally and self-consciously, on a ‘New Elizabethan’ age.

The article is aimed at analyzing forms and methods of struggle of the Russian Black Hundreds against Ukrainian activists of the tsarist army in the prisoner-of-war camps on the territory of Austria-Hungary and Germany (Freistadt, Rastatt, Wetzlar, Salzwedel), being ukrainized at the end of 1914-1915, which was accompanied by the removal of ethnic Russians from those camps. The research novelty of the article lies in the objective evidence of those factors that initially made it almost impossible to carry out cultural and educational work among captured Ukrainians, as well as the reconstruction of the process of gradual overcoming by the camp residents of their non-acceptance of national liberation slogans and the idea of Ukrainian independence. Conclusions: It is proved that despite various methods of intimidation (physical violence against Ukrainian activists, destruction of books and magazines, boycott of schools, anonymous leaflets of threatening content, writing down registration numbers of prisoners, etc.), the Black Hundreds did not succeed in preventing the activities of cultural and educational circles created in the camps by the Union for the Liberation of Ukraine (ULU). In a short time, the majority of camp residents joined Ukrainian organizations in the camps, which enabled to minimize the influence of anti-Ukrainian forces. So Ukrainians managed to overcome their centuries-old fear of tsarist despotism, which constrained their ideas and actions with the threat of inevitable punishment. Their desire to gain as much knowledge as possible in conditions of captivity, their readiness to acquire new skills and abilities that they might need during civilian life – suppressed all frightening efforts of the Black Hundreds. It became possible to achieve because of the involvement of captured Ukrainian officers into national organizational activities. Thanks to this, thousands of Ukrainians devoted to the cause of national liberation were brought up in the camps, ready for the armed defense of Ukraine against the Bolshevik invasion.

[B]y carrying us beyond paper, the adventures of technology grant us a sort of future anterior: they liberate our reading for a retrospective exploration of the past resources of paper, for its previously multimedia vectors.—Jacques Derrida, Paper MachineThis essay explores some of the ways that the contemporary mediascape has begun to transform the questions we can ask of our students and ourselves. Our subject derives from an undergraduate English course, Literary History and/as Media History, that we designed to address the lack of critical attention paid in the curriculum to the media of literary works. The course, whose catalog description follows, was intended to cover a lot of historical ground while highlighting theoretical questions that generally remain unasked in Norton Anthology–style surveys:Living in an era of rapid technological innovation, we tend to forget that print itself was once a new medium. The history of English and American literature since the Renaissance has been as much a response to the development of new material formats (scribal copying, printed playtexts, newspaper and serial publication, “little magazines,” radio, film, television, the internet) as it has been a succession of ideal literary forms (poems, plays, and novels). This course will survey literary works from the sixteenth to the twentieth century in relation to the history of media. What can these histories say to each other? Are they, indeed, one history?

One of the issues of non-ferrous metallurgy is the high losses of metals during concentration as part of complex processing of the ores. The mineral resource base of non-ferrous metals in Russia is affected by the shortcomings of certain concentration processes that have a negative impact on the efficiency of commodity production. Human-generated wastes of non-ferrous metallurgy industries often form reserves that are comparable to the natural deposits of primary ores. In addition to the economic losses from incomplete metal recovery, dumping of mining waste creates environmental problems. Current Russian technologies fail to ensure waste-free concentration processes. Upgrading of the concentration processes is done through introduction of hydro-metallurgical treatment operations, which results in changes of the mineral properties that leads to better ore liberation and enhanced metal recovery. It is also possible to increase the metal recovery by boosting the activity of minerals through their treatment with surfactants. The efficiency of mechanochemical activation of the leaching processes has been discussed in the leading Russian and foreign scientific journals and magazines, and is being further developed in research activities on the subject. The technology performance is improved when traditional technologies are combined with new wastefree hydrometallurgical processes through introduction of disintegrator-type activators into the process flow.

Purpose. The reputation of the satirical weekly Iskra is traditionally determined by the political context of the Russian Empire in 1860s. Despite the fact that in the first years of its existence, the publication attracted writers of various fractions, views, and convictions, Iskra was perceived as a radical magazine, “…another department of Sovremennik”. Moreover, Iskra’s defamations and attacks against provincial and capital officials, and writers have become an inte gral part of the everyday life of the 1860s. Individual articles and whole issues have been banned and censored, though this policy only promoted and strengthened the reputation of weekly. Later, reflecting the importance of the magazine, the Soviet literary criticism established a typological relationship between Iskra by Kurochkines brothers and the left-wing newspaper of the same name published by V. I. Lenin at the beginning of the 20th century. This article attempts to reinterpret Iskra, implying a “weakening” of the sociological and political aspects of interpretation in favor of the aesthetic ones.Results. The article put forward a hypothesis that publications such as Charivari, Punch, and Iskra can be considered from perspective of modern discursive practices: post-folklore (the phenomenon of variable text and multiple authorship), post-modernity (discrediting the classical heritage or its carnival rethinking) and post-irony (deconstruction of modern leaders of opinion, self-exposure). Based on the study of prosaic and poetic parodies and satire, graphic texts - cartoons and serials (comics), the author analyzes the specificity of the construction and presentation of Russian reality as an anti-world. The article contains fragments of prose and poetic feuilletons by D. D. Minaev, V. P. Burenin, and M. Stopanovsky, many of which are published for the first time.Conclusion. Iskra as a product of the polemical journalism of the Russian Empire in 1860s displayedan experience of a new aesthetics (a kind of anti-aesthetics), synthesizing schoolchildren (cartoons) and decadent subcultures (Baudelaire translations). Apparently, the 8000 subscribers included not only a radical and democratic reader but also a general audience, equally tired of the official tone of government periodicals and the moralizing of the progressive camp. Demonstrating Russian life as the so-called ‘antiworld’, Iskra proposed a version of “carnival liberation”, which was probably reflected in the poetics of many contemporaries: M. E. Saltykov-Shchedrin, N. S. Leskov, F. M. Dostoevsky. In this regard, the issue of post-folklore, post-modernism, post-truth, and post-irony on the pages of Iskra rather remained unresolved. However, the change in perspective, it seems to us, enables reinterpretation of the previously collected data, allowing us to give a new interpretation.

During World War II, Pin-Ups played a big role in military propaganda. At the time, Pin-Ups weren’t just about comforting soldiers on the battlefield. Therein lay a uniquely American patriotism. In a liberal country like the United States, it is difficult to ask citizens to defend the country, so American politicians had to appeal to private obligations, first and foremost the moral obligations that exist between men and women. Pin-Ups were a useful tool to arouse men’s patriotism by conveying the message that they should defend their wives and girlfriends on the mainland. Meanwhile, American women were able to find their own new sexual identity through Pin-Ups. The conventions that confined women to the roles of wife and mother were broken during the war. New attributes of independence and assertiveness were spreading among American women. The Pin-Up Girl, an icon of the active and desirable woman, was a useful model for American women to create a new self. With the end of World War II and the return of men from overseas, the social climate for women returned to the past. A country that had actively supported women’s mobilization into the workforce during the war now began to tell women that it was their patriotic duty to return home. Women lost their place in the workplace and men-only magazines like Playboy became popular. However, the sense of liberation that American women experienced during the war, and the experience of living as full members of society, would later lead to the American women’s movement of the 1960s.

The literary life of the whole Western Europe considerably revived in the first half of the twentieth century. This influenced the dynamic development of publishing, dramaturgical, literary activity of Polish artists and their search for new forms of expression of reality. A unique phenomenon of the interwar period a twenty years in Poland was the emergence of a new poetic movement “Scamander”. This movement was closely linked to reality and conveyed the spirit of the era. However, each of the representatives of the Scamander movement performed it in their own way at different stages of their work and according to their own inner world. Soon, on the basis of the poets-innovators’ worldview, a magazine of the same name was created, which united the supporters of the poetry of “everyday life”. The scamandrites introduced unprecedented motives into the image of everyday life: spontaneity, vitalism, biologism, etc. and were distinguished primarily by the fact that the early stage of their work fell on the key events of national liberation and independence of Poland. The main representatives of this poetic group were Julian Tuvim, Jan Lechon, Kazimierz Wiezynski, Yaroslav Ivashkevych and Antoni Slonimski. In the article the author focuses on the ideological and aesthetic positions of the representatives of the Polish poetic group “Scamander”. The basic themes of the works of Yulian Tuvim, Jan Lehon, Antoni Slonimski, Yaroslav Ivashkevych, Kazimir Vezhynsky at different stages of their activity are emphasized. The article identifies the general literary trends of the representatives of this poetic group and differences in the perception of interwar reality. The originality of each of the authors of the group was noted in the search for public truth. The important role that Scamander played in the literary life of the interwar period is determined.

The ideas of Alash are the spiritual value of the Kazakh people, which determine the development priorities of our state and historical policy. The formation of the USSR and the subsequent totalitarian vector of development conditioned the persecution and exilement of the Alash national intelligentsia. As the result of the repressive policy the majority of the best sons of Kazakh nation were arrested, shot, exiled to camps and forced to flee abroad. There in a foreign land, including in the territory of Xinjiang in China, they continued to spread the progressive ideas of Alash. The authors believe that the ideas of Alash played a role in the creation of the independent Republic of East Turkestan, which existed for five years (1944-1949). The authors examine in the prism of historical events the evolution of Alash ideas since the emergence of its leaders on the territory of East Turkestan, as well as the impact of Alash ideology on the scale of the national liberation struggle. The content of the article demonstrates the main publicity channels which played a particular role in the spread of the Alash idea. Firstly, it is the information obtained from Kazakh, Saryarka newspapers and letters from Aykap magazine. Secondly, these were the Alash emigrants themselves, who were active in spreading the idea of independence in the emigrant community. Third are the new generation, the followers of Alash, who grew up on Alash ideology, poets and writers. The authors show that, as a result of the ideology created by the PRC in 1949, all non-ethnic dissent was banished.

This essay discusses how the representation of the Western male has shifted from one of hegemonic masculinity to one of new man-ism by exploring the British edition of Men’s Health magazine (henceforth MH). Beginning with a brief definition of the key terms, the essay explores how such a change has occurred via cultural construction by borrowing a theoretical perspective from Judith Butler, of how all forms of identity are not ‘fixed’, but are rather discursively ‘produced’ by popular culture media: ‘There is no gender identity behind the expression of gender; that identity is performatively constituted by the very ‘‘expressions’’ that are said to be its results’ Butler (1988). After highlighting the relevant history of men’s liberation, the essay then discusses the conditions in which the representation of men has become fetishised in modern Britain by adopting MH as a case study. Such exploitative use of idealised depictions of men’s bodies in MH has resulted in men becoming the ‘object’ of the gaze rather than ‘owning’ the gaze. To clarify this sociologically, the essay begins by discussing the feminist movement’s rejection of the men’s patriarchal image and how men thereby began to embrace new man-ism. Next, it discusses two other causes of this shift to new man-ism: (i) economic changes, and (ii) the crisis of masculinity. My concern here is not to unquestioningly accept the concepts associated with these factors or their implications; rather, I discuss them as dynamic elements within the above-mentioned change in how men are represented by MH, which has led men to become the objects rather than the subjects of the gaze. However, despite the historical performativity-related changes to men and masculinity, no real changes to masculinity’s hegemonic and dominant characteristics appear to have occurred. No further detail is given on the content of MH (as this can be studied easily enough), nor will I defend the ‘dumb’ excesses of some men’s titles to avoid a burlesque analysis. Instead, I discuss the most prominent themes in relation to men’s appearances and bodies to provide a better understanding of the shift from hegemonic masculinity to the New Man depicted in MH.

Only 12 years after Paris, the first Pasteur Institute in Serbia and the Balkans was founded in Nis, in 1900. Its contribution to preventive medicine of Serbia was enormous, primarily in production of vaccine against variola and rabies. After the liberation in 1919, the Pasteur Institute was re-established and it continued its scientific work under the management of Gerasim Alivizatos, a Greek who had come to help Serbian people. He is the author of the so-called mixed method in rabies prophylaxis, in which he combined dilution of live vaccine with concentrated ether treated vaccine. He published his work on this method in the journal Deutschen Medicinische Wochenschrift in 1922. After 1928, the only active Pasteur Institute in the whole Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes was the Pasteur Institute in Novi Sad, which has remained the central anti-rabies institution to the present day. Its first director, Dr. Adolf Hempt, born in Novi Sad in 1874, was the author of the world famous vaccine against rabies, which was named after him and was in use from 1925 to 1989. He was the first in the world to have made a completely inactive, i.e. dead vaccine, which was much safer for use, so many European countries such as Austria, Czechoslovakia, Germany, Hungary gradually accepted it under the name of Hempt, and from the Novi Sad Institute it was exported to some African countries as well. Dr Hempt published his first work on the new vaccine in the magazine Annales de l'Institut Pasteur in 1925 in French, and he also published a monograph in German by Bering Institute in 1938, nowadays ranked as a monograph of international importance.

The purpose of this article is to elucidate the peculiarities of the functioning of Ukrainian News/“Ukrainski Visti” in the American period through the prism of publications (1978-2000). In order to realize the goal, the forms of subscription organization were investigated, measures aimed at strengthening the material base of the magazine, a considerable array of publications of that time were analyzed (their systematic index was prepared), and the role of the publication in shaping the cultural and spiritual heritage of the Ukrainian diaspora in the USA and other countries during the mentioned period were outlined. The main method of research was to analyze the materials of different genres found in the pages of the newspaper as well as a historical method that allows you to study objects in chronological order. In particular, during this task a valuable fact about the changes that occurred in the edition after its relocation to the USA was obtained, the peculiarities of newspaper’s functioning in new conditions were clarified, all addresses of editors office were found out, the articles related to activities of the Publishing Union and the I. Bahrianyi Foundation which were engaged in the publication of the newspaper were examined; a number of editorial steps, aimed primarily at strengthening the financial base of the edition and its subscribers acquisition were studied. It is found out, that relocation of the editors office from Germany to the USA encouraged the Ukrainian emigration participation, which was united behind the newspaper in scientific, educational, artistic, economic and public-political activities on the American-Canadian territory, promoted inten-sification of Naddniprianska emigration in terms of All-Ukrainian liberation movement, helped to stabilize the financial base of the newspaper, that, in the end, allowed to publish it during the next twenty two years.

This essay discusses the contemporary circulation of digitized historical photographs in the Egyptian online world. On countless Facebook pages and blogs, vintage photographs of multiple genres—including “orientalist” photographs sold in late 19th century to western tourists, early 20th century postcards of the colonial metropolis, advertising shots published in mid-20th century Egyptian magazines, and private family photographs—are being unearthed, reactivated, and assigned with new meanings that are acutely contemporary. “Freed” from the confines of old dusty archives that once constrained their circulation, such “old” (or “vintage”) photographs become iconic en masse: they no longer stand simply for the thing, person or event depicted, but instead signify larger social values and relationships to the past. Their indexicality and iconicity goes hand in hand: it is precisely because they are photographs—images widely believed to have been created as mechanical, and thus objective, imprints of things that once undoubtedly “were there”—that they can perform the cultural work currently demanded of them as proofs of past truths. This ongoing re-deployment and re-signification of digitized old photographs (facilitated by digital technologies and social media) has two recent genealogies. First is the neoliberal rereading of modern Egyptian history in which colonialism becomes recast as a period of once-had-and-then-lost modernity; second is the difficult and confusing post-revolutionary present in which such “liberated,” but also inherently unstable icons serve to prove at once the necessity of a revolution as well as the reason why it has apparently failed.

The article presents a biographical outline of Jan Kotyza, a soldier of the Home Army, Peasants’ Battalions and the Polish People’s Army. He was born in Bieńczyce near Cracow in a peasant family. Thanks to the persistence of his parents and teachers he finished high school and then studied physical education at the Jagiellonian University. Just before the outbreak of World War II, Kotyza took over the position of manager of the newly built city stadium at 3 Maja Avenue in Cracow. He was a reserve officer but did not take part in the Polish campaign of 1939. During the occupation he got involved in underground work. Initially, it consisted only in the distribution of underground magazines. He joined the Union of Armed Struggle (ZWZ) and took pseudonym „Krzemień”. Initially he organized a platoon in the villages of Bieńczyce, Krzesławice and Mistrzejowice. Then he became the commander of the ZWZ post „Mogiła”, which included municipalities: Mogiła, Ruszcza and Węgrzce. He left the ZWZ to join the Peasants’ Battalions (BCh). At the same time he became a member of the underground People’s Party „Roch”. After the BCh where merged with the Home Army, he took command of the „Pająk” battalion. In 1943, he was promoted within the BCh and became commander of the Cracow district codenamed „Forest Inspectorate No. 6”. Shortly after the liberation from the Germans, he answered the call of the new authorities to join the so-called Polish People’s Army. Initially he was not sent to the front, eventually he was sent to the 2nd Army. He did not manage to take part in fights against the Germans. He was near Dresden, from where he was withdrawn through Wrocław to Rzeszów, where he took part in fights with the Ukrainian Insurgent Army. After being demobilized, he returned to his hometown.

The identity crisis that many Jewish radicals in the West grappled with in the 1960s and early 1970s was the subject of Sol Stern’s essay “My Jewish Problem – and Ours,” which appeared in the August 1971 issue of Ramparts, one of the most important organs of the American New Left.1 Stern, a key New Left activist and a former editor of the magazine, pointed to a paradox at the root of this crisis. Classical Marxism viewed Jewish nationalism as diametrically opposed to Marxist ideology. Nonetheless, in the wake of the Holocaust and the founding of the state of Israel, the global Left supported the Jewish national cause. This support was, however, short-lived. It was shaken first by Israel’s collusion with Britain and France during the Suez crisis of 1956. The escalation of the Israeli-Arab conflict in the second half of the 1960s then completed the global Left’s turn against Israel.2 Stern and his Jewish comrades consequently found themselves torn between their allegiance to the New Left and their continued support for Israel, sustained by their conviction that the Jewish state had faced a deadly threat from its enemies in 1967. Following a series of aggressive military and diplomatic moves by Egyptian leader Gamal Abdul Nasser during the tense early months of that year, war broke out on June 5 and ended six days later in a decisive and unanticipated Israeli victory. Israel captured large swathes of Egyptian, Syrian, and Jordanian territory, most consequentially the West Bank and Gaza Strip, areas densely populated by Palestinian Arabs, including many who had become refugees just nineteen years earlier in the war of 1948. Most Jews, and many in the Israeli leadership, viewed these two areas as part of the Jewish birthright and saw their capture as the liberation of territories that justly belonged to the Jewish people and state. While the Jewish members of the New Left believed that Israel should relinquish the West Bank and Gaza Strip and permit them to become an independent Palestinian Arab state, they maintained that Israel had captured them in a war of self-defense. As they saw it, Israel’s astonishing victory was the triumph of a country with a strong socialist tradition against the forces of reaction. Stern maintained that the West’s Jewish leftists found themselves facing a new edition of the classic Jewish Question – to integrate into the modern world, they were expected to divest themselves of their particularist identity and adopt exclusively universal values. This volume examines the social, political, and ideological manifestations of this resurgence of that dilemma. Each article focuses on how the issue played out in a particular country – the United States, France, Argentina, and Israel – between 1967 and 1973, when the drama reached its climax. In each of these places, the New Left attacked Israel and pro-Zionists activists reacted, leading to internal tensions on each side. University campuses emerged as the main theater of action. In tracing these confrontations, this collection casts new light on the difficulties faced by experience of young Jewish radicals struggling to integrate their particularist ethnic sentiments with their socialist universal values. The conflict that followed the Six-Day War can, however, only be understood against the background of the relationship between the Jews and the Left prior to 1967.

Julian A. Yavorsky (1873-1937) was a Carpatho-Russian scholar, social and political activist, son of a Greek Catholic priest. He graduated from Chernivtsi University in 1896. In 1903, he defended his doctoral dissertation “The Life of Peter and Fevronia of Murom as a Monument of Old Russian Narrative Literature” at the University of Vienna under the supervision of Vatroslav Jagic. After returning to Galicia, he taught in Polish gymnasiums. Since school, he participated in the Russian movement of Galicia. For his convictions, Yavorsky was expelled from the Drohobych, Sambir, and Lviv gymnasiums, Lviv and Vienna Universities. He was the leader of the “new generation”, fought with the “Old Rusins” At first, he advocated joint work with UkrainophiLe organizations to educate people and fight for their rights. In 1899, he published Zhivoe Slovo magazine and worked in the GaLician-Russian Matitsa. In the late 1890s, he began to publish his research in Lviv and Russian editions. In 1904, Yavorsky with his family moved to Kyiv, where he taught at the First Kyiv Gymnasium and then became a Privatdozent and Associate Professor at the Imperial University of St. Vladimir. He actively published in Russian academic journals, had several business trips to Galicia, where he collected folklore, searched for and acquired manuscripts to continue his research. With the outbreak of WWI, he headed the Carpatho-Russian Liberation Committee. After the capture of Lviv by Russian troops, Yavorsky became a member of the Russian People's Council. After the retreat of the Russian army from Lviv, he dealt with refugee issues, tried to form a Carpatho-Russian detachment as part of the Russian army. Yavorsky disapproved of the October Revolution. In 1920, he returned to Galicia and Lived in Lviv until 1924, where he participated in the activities of the Russian Movement in Galicia, published the newspaper Prikarpatskaya Rus’, prepared the first volume of The Telerhof Almanac (1924) for publication. In his “social Literary diaries”, he spoke sharply about the Bolshevik coup in Russia and the attempts of the Russian Executive Committee to form a “united front” with Ukrainian organizations. Along with journalism, collections of poems and prose, Yavorsky also published his research. In 1925, Yavorsky and his family moved to Czechoslovakia, where he taught at the Russian Gymnasium in Moravska-Trzebova, then worked at the Russian National University and the Slavic Institute. In Czechoslovakia, he wrote much about Carpathian Rus. He actively published in Uzhhorod and hunted for old manuscripts to introduce them into scholarly discourse. His editions of Local folklore accurately convey the speech of Local Rusins. Yavorsky kept faith in the unity of the Russian people. However, he aLso contributed to Ukrainian media. WhiLe in GaLicia, Yavorsky pubLished in Narnd, the press organ of the Russian-Ukrainian radicaL party. In CzechosLovakia, he pubLished in Naukoviy zbornik of Prnsvet Partnership in Uzhhorod. Yavorsky had cLose reLations with Ivan Franko. Yavorsky was buried in the Orthodox section of the OLshansky cemetery in Prague.

The purpose of this study is to examine the changes in the labor reality in Lee Buk-myeong's novels according to social situations. Novelist Lee Buk-myung started as a literary writer who embodies the vivid reality of workers lives in relation to the Bolshevik line of KAPF in the colonial era. His literary flow can be brought up by the following periodical segmentation. First, in the novel by Lee Buk-myung, the oppression mechanism that he directly or indirectly experienced while working as a worker at the Joseon Nitrogen Fertilizer Factory in Noguchi(野口) Konzern for three years from 1927 is concretely embodied. This is embodied labor reality of factory environment full of noise and stench, industrial accidents related to injuries, diseases and deaths, layoffs and unauthorized dismissals through physical examinations, and ethnic discrimination resulting from duties, wages, and various types of treatment. Second, it is possible to find the labor reality symbolized by the accumulation mechanisms in which capital and imperial ideology continuously tame workers and the aspect of worker resistance at the points of awakening that reject it. These acclimation mechanisms are achieved in the Joseon Nitrogen Fertilizer Factory through religious magazines that exhort integrity and diligence based on Protestant ethics. However, the tragedy of a colleague who eventually dies due to an industrial accident and unlawful dismissal becomes a trigger for the workers to start the May Day struggle. In addition, it criticizes the acclimation mechanisms of the imperial educational ideology through the narrative in which an individual who has been disciplined by the ethics of integrity and honesty under the general education system of Japanese imperialism quickly turns to an action based on traditional and instinctive agent in a dramatic crisis situation. Third, Lee Buk-myung's work, written as part of a production novel, a national literature that was forced on writers under the wartime mobilization system at the end of the colonial period, was intended to be a narrative of irony in order to indirectly criticize it under the oppressive situation of patriotism in the rear. It seems to follow the logic of the Japanese imperialist patriotism in the rear by using a sick engineer with no field experience, but implicitly, not only was I touched by the tenacious life of grassroots, not the spirit of protecting the country with electricity. Ironically, he criticizes the labor reality of wartime mobilization under the new system of Konoe(近衛)'s cabinet by causing bitter laughter by his weak and sloppy behavior as an engineer. Fourth, the period of peaceful construction that came along with the liberation and the rapidly changing labor reality under the post-war reconstruction construction and socialist political system is eloquent as the typical form of labor ethic of state socialism. This leads to the strengthening of a work ethic of selflessness that taboos individual desires and turns all labor into social work, and leads to a monolithic leadership system that follows it like a halo. Therefore, whole society is transformed into a factory state in the state of unity of ‘life=labor’ and ‘individual=nation(people)’ by driving all individual lives into a social plaza. In order for this work ethic to permeate all parts of society and for the state to become a factory for production, education and agitation work must start from the family, the smallest unit of society, and the ячейка unit within the factory. Public labor as a product of forced ideology and refinement, and propaganda novels written in the dimension of public-refinement, to reinforce it, can be said to be another acclimation mechanism that forms the fundamental basis of North Korea's view of labor and art.

Problem Statement and Purpose. The hotel and tourism industry is one of the most attractive sectors of the economy for investment due to small initial capital investments, the ever-growing demand of society for tourism and hotel services, a high level of profitability and the average payback period of projects. The hotel and tourism industries stimulate the development of related sectors of the national economy, primarily construction and trade, and contribute to the creation of new jobs. The hotel and tourist industries actively influence the economy of the city (region, country in general), in particular, the spheres of economic and social activity. Military actions on the territory of Ukraine since the beginning of 2022 have significantly affected the demand and supply of hotel services in the country. The destruction of accommodation facilities damaged by shelling and their loss as a result of the occupation was the result of a decrease in the supply of the hotel market. As a result, number pools were emptied in many regions. The hotel industry of the northern, eastern and southern regions of Ukraine, as well as the city of Kyiv, suffered the greatest negative impact. The best situation in the hotel business is currently demonstrated in the western part of Ukraine, where accommodation establishments are operating in full and in fact at 100 percent capacity. As for the hotel sector in other parts of the country: companies have faced difficulties in providing services. The main goal of accommodation facilities was to adapt companies to the realities of wartime, taking into account curfews and air raids. Searching for new forms of service and re-equipment of establishments according to safety requirements became important tasks of hotels. Data & Methods. The research used data from official websites and articles from Ukrainian web magazines. Empirical research methods (observation and monitoring of hotel services) and the forecasting method were used to achieve the goal. Results. Since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, the country’s tourism industry has significantly decreased It is also complicated by the fact that Ukraine, like many other countries of the world, has not yet fully “recovered” from the coronavirus pandemic. For these very reasons, foreign tourism is not developing. First, a large number of citizens have increased expenses and decreased incomes. Secondly, conscripts cannot go abroad with their families, even if they have the means to do so. Third, there are logistical problems. Besides, there will be no flow of foreign tourists until the country becomes safe. And today’s visit to Ukraine is this mainly representatives of foreign mass media and industry workers who move around the country for work. In such difficult conditions for the Ukrainian hospitality sector, as martial law, service failures are an unpredictable state, where work standards are very important and demonstrate service to the guest. That is why accommodation establishments must be able to identify possible problems that may be caused by external factors and develop options for behavior in the event of their occurrence (as in the case of a power outage – hotels operate with the help of generators). It is also very important to “show concern for the guest”. This applies to such details as: the mode of operation of various services, the format of check-in and check-out, the operation of room service and, as relevant, the mode of operation of the generator, and what services are available with it. Currently, the western part of Ukraine continues to function actively (which will continue to be popular over the next 5 years, due to the need to restore infrastructure in other parts of the country) and domestic tourism is developing. I can assume that in the future, after the liberation of the state from the occupiers, inbound tourism will be active and will be associated with business trips and the involvement of European countries in the reconstruction process. There will also be the resumption of work of some hotel chains and the launch of accommodation facilities that have suspended their opening due to martial law. Regarding the speed of restoration of the hotel industry, such two factors as the duration of hostilities on the territory of Ukraine and the level of migration of the country’s citizens abroad can testify. So far, the guests of accommodation establishments are mainly Ukrainians (99%), the latter (1%) – foreign journalists, military personnel, volunteers and representatives of international organizations.

The later decades of the 20th century saw dramatic changes in sexual attitudes and behaviour in Britain: rates of divorce and remarriage increased; premarital sex and illegitimacy became more common, even as the pill and legal abortion opened up new reproductive choices; and following on from the decriminalisation of homosex, liberation movements began to celebrate gay lives. These shifts generated new possibilities, but often entailed much inner turmoil. The same period witnessed an unprecedented flourishing of professional and popular psychological expertise. Influential social and cultural theorists have argued that the intertwined rise of “permissiveness” and therapeutic culture caused an important shift in the ethical dimensions of modern life, in which citizens and subjects came to idolise self-realisation over the public good.This article uses women’s magazine problem pages, exploring the role of advice columnists on and off the page, to examine the intersections of “permissiveness” and the psychologisation of everyday life. Millions looked to agony aunts in mass-market women’s magazines to help them negotiate new emotional and sexual worlds. As purveyors of counsel, but not (usually) formally trained counsellors, magazine advisors worked with the new languages and concepts of psychological expertise and disseminated them to avid readers.Across this period, problem pages demonstrated greater openness towards sex and displacement of morality from external standards to the individual. However, advisors also continued to emphasise self-control and responsibility, and to provide practical guidance that took at best a superficially psychological veneer. These trends were underpinned by a model of sex as an essential part of loving, stable relationships, and the (largely unexpressed) notion that such relationships were essential to social functioning. In the woman’s world of the magazine, before and beyond the 1980s, the problem page does not show the rise of individualism or the pursuit of pleasure above all else.

«Zhinochyj Gholos» magazine, which was published from 1931 to 1939 in Lviv and was the official press body of the NGO Women's Union of Ukrainian Working Women, is investigated in the article. The main objective of the study is to characterize the essence of the editorial policy of «Zhinochyj Gholos» magazine, which positioned itself as a socialist, to define the ideological discourse that shaped the magazine. This edition has come a long way from the thematic page in the socialist newspaper «Ghromadsjkyj Gholos» to an independent magazine. Gender media studios in the Western scientific tradition already have significant gains, as research has been around since the 1960s. However, gender studies are a relatively young trend in Ukrainian media studies, as holistic research only emerged in the 2000s. The methodology chosen is to combine feminist discourse analysis with the achievements of post-colonial criticism. Many of the articles in the newspaper can be called ideological texts because they spread socialist ideas. In the journal «Zhinochyj Gholos», ideological discourse was formed, including through the heroization of figures of the socialist movement of the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The magazine purposefully designed an idealized image of the Ukrainian socialist feminist. The intentionality of the text in this case coincided with its pragmatism, because the author's call for devotion to socialist ideals was found in the response of many readers of the paper. Mention of the fight against capitalists in common with men is quite common in magazine articles, indicating that the editorial board is reluctant to identify its journal exclusively with the feminist movement. First of all, the idea of economic liberation of women, the struggle for decent working conditions and their remuneration were important to the socialists, and the proletarian men were seen as accomplices in this struggle. The editorial board of the socialist magazine was of the opinion that purely feminist slogans could be taken only by the bourgeois woman, and that Ukrainian peasants and workers (who were the main readers of the magazine) would be closer to the ideas of social justice. Ideological texts of the magazine are characterized by a peculiar authorial interpretation of the political situation, their own ideological accents and specific stylistics. As a result of the study, it was found out that the Western Ukrainian magazine «Zhinochyj Gholos» offered its own version of feminism, which included feminist ideas, national-state concepts and socialist ideology. The study of the history of feminist tendencies in the media discourse and the specifics of their implementation in the press is a new trend in Ukrainian media studies.

Introduction In a 1984 New York Times interview, Germaine Greer discussed the quite different views that have surrounded her supposed attitude towards sex. As she put it, “People seem to think I'm Hugh Hefner and that the reason women started having sex is because I told them to” (qtd. in De Lacy). This view had, however, shifted by the 1980s. As she told reporter Justine De Lacy, “Now they are saying that I'm against sex.” In this article, I tease out Greer’s remarks about the supposed transformation of her political persona. I do so with reference to her work on Suck Magazine, which was billed by its editors as “The First European Sex Paper,” and which was first published in 1969 (cited in Gleeson 86). The article has two key aims. The first is to demonstrate that Greer has not (as it might seem) transformed from a sexual revolutionary to an anti-sex ideologue. This view is too simplistic. The article’s second aim is to explore Greer’s significant but under-acknowledged contribution to feminist debates about pornography. Far from being strictly anti- or pro-porn, Greer’s work on Suck actually aligns with both of these positions, and it appeared before the feminist porn debates really gained traction. Germaine Greer as Sexual Revolutionary and/or Anti-Sex Ideologue? The apparent political transformation that Greer mentioned in 1984 has been particularly apparent since the 1990s. Since that decade, she has criticised pornography on several occasions. For example, in her book The Whole Woman (1999), Greer argued, “Pornography is the flight from woman, men’s denial of sex as a medium of communication . . .” (181). In an article published in The Guardian in 2000, Greer wrote, “Can [pornography] go too far? No, it can't. As far as male sexual fantasy is concerned there is no too far.” In a 2012 episode of the Australian current affairs program Q&A, Greer argued, “Pornography is the advertisement of prostitution.”Greer’s stance on pornography, and particularly her invocation of female sexual subordination, might seem to represent a radical shift from the political persona that she cultivated during the 1960s and 1970s. During that earlier period, Greer was arguing for female sexual empowerment. She posed nude for Suck. In 1971, the US magazine Life described Greer as a “saucy feminist that even men like” (qtd. in Wallace, unpaginated photograph). There is nothing “saucy” about her more recent anti-porn posture; this posture is not concerned with “empowerment” in any obvious way. Yet I would suggest that Greer at least anticipated this posture in her work on Suck. In that magazine, she did not frame sex as being entirely emancipatory. Rather, Greer argued for sexual liberation (particularly for women), but (in doing so) she also invoked the hierarchical gender roles that would later be invoked in anti-porn feminist arguments. Examining some of Greer’s contributions to Suck will make clear the important contribution that she has made to feminist debates about pornography. These are debates which she has not generally been associated with, or at least not to the extent that Andrea Dworkin and Catharine A. MacKinnon (both US feminists who have very publicly remonstrated against porn) have (see Dworkin; MacKinnon and Dworkin). The feminist porn debates gained ascendance during the late 1970s and early 1980s, and seem to have been liveliest in North America (see Bronstein; Duggan and Hunter; MacKinnon and Dworkin). These debates are significant because of what they say about the truly complex and contentious relationship between sex, gender, power, and representation. The feminist porn debates have been broad-ranging (Sullivan and McKee 10), though they tend to have been framed as polarised conflicts between anti-pornography feminists and “sex-positive”/“anti-censorship” feminists. For anti-pornography feminists, pornography always symptomatises and perpetuates gender hierarchy. Andrea Dworkin famously defined “pornography” as the graphic, sexually explicit subordination of women in pictures and/or words that also includes women presented dehumanized as sexual objects, things, or commodities; or women presented as sexual objects who enjoy pain or humiliation; or women presented as sexual objects who experience sexual pleasure in being raped; or women presented as sexual objects tied up or cut up or mutilated or bruised or physically hurt; or women presented in postures or positions of sexual submission, servility, or display; or women’s body parts—including but not limited to vaginas, breasts, buttocks—exhibited such that women are reduced to those parts; or women presented as whores by nature . . . (xxxiii) Conversely, sex-positive/anti-censorship feminists tend to assess pornography “on a case by case basis”; porn can range from woman-hating to politically progressive (McKee, Albury, and Lumby 22). For these feminists, attempts to legislate against pornography (for example, via the anti-porn ordinance drawn up in the US during the 1980s by Dworkin and MacKinnon) amount to censorship, and are not in the interest of women, feminism, or sexual liberation (Duggan and Hunter 29–39; and see also MacKinnon and Dworkin). Among the most striking aspects of Greer’s work on Suck is that it actually mobilises aspects of both these (loosely-defined) feminist positions, and appeared almost a decade before pornography became an issue of contention amongst feminists. This work was published not in North America, but in Europe; the Australian-born Greer was living in the United Kingdom at the time of that magazine’s publication, and indeed she has been described as “Britain’s . . . most well-known feminist” (Taylor 759; and see also Gleeson). Does Porn Suck? Greer co-founded Suck in 1969, the year before The Female Eunuch was published. Greer had already established a minor public profile through her journalistic contributions to the London-based Oz Magazine. Several of those contributions were written under the guise of “Dr G—the only groupie with a Ph.D in captivity,” and featured references to “groupiedom” and “cunt power” (qtd. in Gleeson 86). Suck was published in Amsterdam to circumvent “British censorship laws” (Wallace 15). The magazine was very much a product of the then-current sexual revolution, as suggested by the following passage from a 1971 editorial: “Our cause is sexual liberation. Our tactic is the defiance of censorship” (University of Melbourne Archives). Suck comprised sexually-explicit imagery (for example, nudity and shots of (hetero)sexual penetration) and similarly explicit articles. These articles are furnished with the vivid, deliberately provocative prose for which Greer is renowned.In some articles, Greer argues that women’s acceptance of their bodies constitutes a rebellion against patriarchy. In a 1971 article, she writes, “Primitive man feared the vagina . . . as the most magical of magical orifices of the body” (University of Melbourne Archives). The title of this piece is “Lady Love Your Cunt,” and indicates Greer’s view that patriarchal fears—or, as she puts it, the fears of “primitive man”—have contributed to stigma that has surrounded the vagina. Greer concludes thus: “Why not send a photograph of your own cunt, with your names labelled on?” (Whether any readers responded to this invitation remains unclear.) In “Bounce Titty Bounce,” she describes a “Mafia that controls the shapes of [women’s] bodies” (University of Melbourne Archives). This control is particularly evident in the brassiere, which Greer calls “a muzzle, a mask, binding joys and desires with wire and rubber and nylon and clips and cotton.” In a 1970 article entitled “Ladies get on top for better orgasms,” Greer opens with the statement: “The prevalence of the missionary position of fucking in the Western World [sic] seems to mean a widespread unfairness in sex.” She elaborates: Even if women were not . . . slighter than men, the missionary position would have little to commend it. The hands of the man are not free to play with his lover’s breasts or clitoris . . . because he must support himself, at least partially by them . . . The male ismin [sic] full control. Greer concedes that the “female on top position is perhaps the least popular of the alternatives to the missionary position.” The “female on top” position does, however, have advantages for women, one being that a woman “can arrive at a position to accept the cock without having to take her weight on her hands.” Greer’s best-known contribution to Suck is a selection of nude photographs that were published in a 1971 edition. In one shot, Greer is lying on her back, her legs behind her ears, her anus directly in front of the camera. In another shot, she is positioned in the same manner, although her anus and vagina are more central within the frame. In both shots, Greer is gazing directly into the camera and smiling. On one level, the textual and photographic examples described above—and, in fact, the very publication of Suck—suggest a rebellion against sexual repression. This rebellion was characteristic of the sexual revolution (Gleeson 86). Yet, in advocating female sexual empowerment, Greer distanced herself from the masculine bias of that movement. In her 1984 New York Times interview, Greer was quoted as saying that “. . . the sexual revolution never happened. Permissiveness happened, and that’s no better than repressiveness, because women are still being manipulated by men” (qtd. in De Lacy). Here, she anticipates arguments (e.g. Jeffreys) that the sexual revolution of the 1960s and 1970s actually sanctioned (heterosexual) male desire and men’s sexual access to women. In Suck, then, Greer argued that women need to liberate themselves sexually, and not only be seen as instruments for male sexual liberation. Greer did pose nude, but, in doing so, she stared back into the camera/at the spectator—thus returning the gaze, rather than being objectified by this gaze (Mulvey). Greer has described her shots thus: “Face, pubes and anus, nothing decorative about it. Nothing sexy about it either. Confrontation was the name of the game” (qtd. in Gleeson 86). In 2013, Greer wrote of that photo shoot: “Women’s bodies were merchandised. Each week we saw a little more: nipples, then pussy . . . drip-feeding the masturbation fantasies of a [male] generation. My gesture aimed to short-circuit that process.” She has also been quoted as saying that she envisioned Suck as an “antidote to the exploitative papers like Screw and Hustler,” by “developing a new kind of erotic art, away from the tits ‘n’ ass and the peep show syndrome” (qtd. in Gleeson 86). Thus, Greer’s Suck contributions seem to foreshadow the “sex-positive” feminism that would emerge later in the 1970s in North America (e.g. Duggan and Hunter). Her work would also anticipate feminist uses of porn to explore female sexuality from specifically female and feminist perspectives (see Taormino et al.). A closer examination of these contributions, however, suggests a more complex picture. Witness Greer’s reference to the popularity of “missionary sex” as a reason for “widespread unfairness in sex,” or her description of a (presumably) male-dominated “Mafia” who control women’s bodies (for example, via the bra). In a newspaper interview that was published around the time of The Female Eunuch’s 1970 publication, Greer argued that sex needs to be “rescued” from the patriarchy by feminists. This is because sex under patriarchy has been characterised by the dichotomised positions of “powerful and powerless, masterful and mastered.” In this scenario, women are the ones who are “powerless” and “mastered.” The title of that interview is “Author Attacks Dominating Male” (University of Melbourne Archives).The above statements suggest a sexual landscape characterised by “potentially violent, dominant men and subordinated, silenced women” (Duggan and Hunter 7). In this landscape, sex is a site of gender inequality; and even something as apparently innocuous as underwear is used by men to control women. The pervasive sense of patriarchy invoked here would (as scholars such as Duggan and Hunter have argued) be invoked in much anti-pornography feminist writing. And Greer would go on to concur with the anti-porn stance, as the three pronouncements cited at the beginning of this article attest. (In Suck, Greer does not attempt to define “pornography,” and nor does she classify her contributions as being “pornography” or “anti-pornography.”)ConclusionI have argued that it is useful to revisit some of Germaine Greer’s contributions to Suck Magazine in order to reassess her apparent transformation from sexual revolutionary to anti-sex ideologue. These contributions (which include articles and photographs) are celebrations of female sexual empowerment and critiques of what Greer sees as a pervasive gender hierarchy. I have argued that this work is also useful in that it anticipates the feminist debates about pornography that would gain ascendance in North America almost a decade after Suck’s publication. Greer articulates arguments that would come to be aligned with both “sex-positive” and “anti-pornography” feminist discourses. To this extent, she has made an important and thus far largely unacknowledged contribution to these highly polarised feminist debates. ReferencesBronstein, Carolyn. Battling Pornography: The American Feminist Anti-Pornography Movement, 1976–1986. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2011.De Lacy, Justine. “Germaine Greer’s New Book Stirs a Debate.” The New York Times. 5 Mar. 1984. 21 Oct. 2015 <https://www.nytimes.com/books/99/05/09/specials/greer-debate.html>.Duggan, Lisa, and Nan D. Hunter, eds. “Introduction.” Sex Wars: Sexual Dissent and Political Culture. 10th Anniversary Edition. London: Routledge, 2006. 1–13.Dworkin, Andrea. Pornography: Men Possessing Women. New York: Plume, 1989. Gleeson, Kate. “From Suck Magazine to Corporate Paedophilia: Feminism and Pornograph—Remembering the Australian Way.” Women’s Studies International Forum 38 (2013): 83–96.Greer, Germaine. The Whole Woman. London: Transworld Publishers, 1999. ———. “Gluttons for Porn.” The Guardian 24 Sep. 2000. 21 Oct. 2015 <http://www.theguardian.com/books/2000/sep/24/society>.———. “As Women Bare All in Feminist Protest, Germaine Greer Asks: Is This Feminism?” News.com.au 17 Mar. 2013. 30 July 2016 <http://www.news.com.au/lifestyle/as-women-bare-all-in-feminist-protest-germaine-greer-asks-is-this-feminism/story-fneszs56-1226598414628>.Jeffreys, Sheila. Anticlimax: A Feminist Perspective on the Sexual Revolution. London: The Women’s Press, 1990. MacKinnon, Catharine A., and Andrea Dworkin, eds. In Harm’s Way: The Pornography Civil Rights Hearings. Massachusetts: Harvard UP, 1997. McKee, Alan, Katherine Albury, and Catharine Lumby. The Porn Report. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 2008. Mulvey, Laura. “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.” Screen 16.3 (1975): 6–18. Q&A. “Politics and Porn in a Post-Feminist World.” First screened 19 Mar. 2012. 20 May 2016 <http://www.abc.net.au/tv/qanda/txt/s3451584.htm>.Suck Magazine. Copies held by Germaine Greer Archive, University of Melbourne. Sullivan, Rebecca, and Alan McKee. Pornography: Structures, Agency and Performance. Cambridge: Polity Press, 2015.Taormino, Tristan, Celine Parrenas Shimizu, Constance Penley, and Mireille Miller-Young, eds. The Feminist Porn Book: The Politics of Producing Pleasure. New York: Feminist Press at the City University of New York, 2013.Taylor, Anthea. “Germaine Greer’s Adaptable Celebrity: Feminism, Unruliness, and Humour on the British Small Screen.” Feminist Media Studies 14.5 (2014): 759–74.University of Melbourne Archives, Germaine Greer archive. Undated. 2014.0038, Unit 216. File name “(Drawer 158) Press clippings about Germaine Greer.” “Author Attacks Dominating Male.” Interview with Germaine Greer. Interviewer and place of publication unknown. Unpaginated. ———. Undated. 2014.0038, Unit 219. File name “Bounce Titty Bounce.” “Bounce Titty Bounce.” Originally published in Suck Magazine. Viewed in unpublished manuscript form. Unpaginated. ———. 1971. 2014.0038, Unit 219. File name “Suck Editorial 1971?” “Editorial.” Suck Magazine. Issue number not provided. Unpaginated. ———. 1971. 2014.0038, Unit 219. File name: “Lady Love Your Cunt Suck.” “Lady Love Your Cunt.” Originally published in Suck Magazine. Viewed in unpublished manuscript form. Unpaginated. ———. Undated. 2014.0038, Unit 219. File name: “Suck Correspondence 73.” Untitled photographs of Germaine Greer. Originally published in Suck Magazine. Unpaginated. Wallace, Christine. Germaine Greer, Untamed Shrew. Sydney: Pan MacMillan, 1997.

Labeling of groups and events describes how groups connected to religious, political or other forms of violence as well as their acts are labeled or evaluated. These labels might vary from more nominal descriptions (e.g., “gunmen”) to more judgmental descriptions (e.g., “terrorist”), leading to different perceptions of these groups and acts by the public. Field of application/theoretical foundation: Labels for groups and events are of interest in journalism research, political communication, research on terrorism and violence as well as stereotyping. These measurements are often based on “Social Identity Theory” (Brown, 2000) as a theoretical foundation for why some groups and events connected to violence are described in a negative way – i.e., as an out-group –, whilst others are described in a neutral way or even positively, i.e., as an in-group. References/combination with other methods of data collection: A study by Huff and Kertzer (2017) for example combines a conjoint experiment with an “Automated Content Analysis” of media coverage to understand how the public would label different acts of violence in comparison to the media. Two studies that have been particularly influential in studying the labeling of violent acts and perpetrators will be discussed in more detail in the following sections. Example studies: Nagar (2010); Weimann (1985) Information on Nagar, 2010 Author: Nagar Research question: How did American news media cover politically violent organizations that are not linked to Al Qaeda or the events of 9/11? Object of analysis: News coverage by two American newspapers (The New York Times, The Washington Post) Time frame of analysis: 1998–2004 Info about variables Variable name/definition: Media frame: “First, the labels that describe political violence were coded separately for each segment. Second, the article frame was determined based on the most frequent label.” (Nagar, 2010, p. 537) Level of analysis: Headline, lead paragraph, text Variables and values: four different label categories for labels in text: neutral (“rebel”, “rebellion”, “insurgent”, “insurgency”, “guerrilla”, “militant”, “combatants”, “revolt”, “uprising”, “revolutionary”, “paramilitaries”, “insurrection”, “separatist”), negative (“terror”, “terrorize”, “terrorist”, “terrorism”), positive (“freedom fighter”, “liberation movement”, “independence movement”), no label mentioned Reliability: Krippendorff’s alpha: .82 Information on Weimann, 1985 Authors: Weimann Research question: Which labels did the press use in referring to terrorists when covering terrorist attacks? Object of analysis: Israel’s major newspapers Time frame of analysis: 1979–1981 Info about variables Variable name/definition: Label Variables and values: three different labels categories for labels in text: negative (“murderers”, “saboteurs”, “assassins”, “separatists”), neutral (“guerillas”, “army”, “front”, “nationalists”, “underground”, “separatists”) and positive (“patriots”, “freedom fighters”, “liberation movement”, “liberation organization”) Reliability: not applicable Table 1. Measurement of “Labeling of Groups and Events” in terrorism coverage. Author(s) Sample Manifestations Reliability Codebook Boyle & Mower (2018) Newspaper articles Computer-assisted key-word search, looking up labels such as “terror” Not applicable Not available De Veen & Thomas (2020) Newspaper articles 3 different label categories: negative (“terrorist”, “racist”, “extremist”, “fundamentalist” and clear links to terrorist organizations such as ISIS), neutral (“perpetrator”, “shooter”, “attacker” or other labels emphasizing race and ethnicity, for example “Muslim” or “American”), or positive (family- or work-related labels such as “father” or “colleagues”) Not reported Not available Nagar (2010) Newspaper articles 4 different label categories: neutral (“rebel”, “rebellion”, “insurgent”, “insurgency”, “guerrilla”, “militant”, “combatants”, “revolt”, “uprising”, “revolutionary”, “paramilitaries”, “insurrection”, “separatist”), negative (“terror”, “terrorize”, “terrorist”, “terrorism”), positive (“freedom fighter”, “liberation movement”, “independence movement”), or no label mentioned Krippendorf’s alpha: .82 Available Picard & Adams (1987) Newspaper articles 2 different label categories: nominal (e.g., “attacker”) or descriptive (e.g., “radical”) Holsti: .98 Not available Samuel-Azran et al. (2015) Newspaper articles 7 different labels for perpetrators: “terrorist/Jewish terrorist”, “the Jewish terrorist”, “terror-accused”, “killer”, “mass murderer”, “serial stabber/criminal”, “other”; 9 different labels for act: “terror”, “massacre/mass murders”, “bombing/shooting”, “right wing crime”, “description assault (stabbing etc.)”, “criminal”, “attack”, “insanity”, “other” Scott’s pi indicating lowest value for any variable in the study: .86 Not available Simmons & Lowry (1990) Magazine articles 13 different labels for perpetrators: “terrorist”, “gunman”, “guerilla”, “attacker”, “extremist”, “radical”, “hijacker”, “revolutionary”, “nationalist”, “armed man/men”, “leftist”, “rightist”, “militiaman/militiamen” Not reported Available Weimann (1985) Newspaper articles 3 different labels categories for perpetrators: negative (“murderers”, “saboteurs”, “assassins”, “separatists”), neutral (“guerillas”, “army”, “front”, “nationalists”, “underground”, “separatists”), or positive (“patriots”, “freedom fighters”, “liberation movement”, “liberation organization”) Not applicable Not available References Boyle, K., & Mower, J. (2018). Framing terror: A content analysis of media frames used in covering ISIS. Newspaper Research Journal, 39(2), 205–219. doi:10.1177/0739532918775667 Brown, R. (2000). Social identity theory: past achievements, current problems and future challenges. European Journal of Social Psychology, 30(6), 745–778. De Veen, L., & Thomas, R. (2020). Shooting for neutrality? Analysing bias in terrorism reports in Dutch newspapers. Media, War & Conflict. Advance Online Publication. doi:10.1177/1750635220909407 Huff, C., & Kertzer, J.D. (2017). How the public defines terrorism. American Journal of Political Science, 62(1), 55-71. doi:10.1111/ajps.12329 Nagar, N. (2010). Who is afraid of the t-word? Labeling terror in the media coverage of political violence before and after 9/11. Studies in Conflict & Terrorism, 33(6), 533–547. doi:10.1080/10576101003752655 Picard, R. G., & Adams, P. D. (1987). Characterizations of acts and perpetrators of political violence in three elite U.S. daily newspapers. Political Communication, 4(1), 1–9. doi:10.1080/10584609.1987.9962803 Samuel-Azran, T., Lavie-Dinur, A., & Karniel, Y. (2015). Narratives used to portray in-group terrorists: A comparative analysis of the Israeli and Norwegian press. Media, War & Conflict, 8(1), 3–19. doi:10.1177/1750635214531106 Simmons, B. K., & Lowry, D. N. (1990). Terrorists in the news, as reflected in three news magazines, 1980–1988. Journalism Quarterly, 67(4), 692–696. doi:10.1177/107769909006700423 Weimann, G. (1985). Terrorists or freedom fighters? Labeling terrorism in the Israeli press. Political Communication, 2(4), 433–445. doi:10.1080/10584609.1985.9962776

AbstractWood and paper are ubiquitous in societies around the world and are largely taken for granted as part of traditional industries with no new science to learn. Many of the technologies used in the forest products industry have been gained empirically through experience. The complexities of wood are now yielding to newer tools and we are beginning to see how the mechanical, optical and other physical properties of wood are related to hierarchical structures based on 2 to 10 nm diameter several hundred nm long fibers of nanocrystalline cellulose (NCC). The liberation of these NCC’s is allowing their re-assembly into remarkably strong structures. Examples will be given of the nature of these building blocks and structures assembled from them. Examples will include nanocomposites as well as very high strength “paper”. Paper is another example of a process whereby nanofibrils are released and then re-assembled with the use of “retention, drainage and formation aides” to make substrates we call paper with remarkable strength to weight performance. Other disciplines call this process “self-assembly” and the “aids” as necessary surfactants and additives to control structure and performance. Glossy magazine papers, for example, have approximately 10 micron thick coatings of white minerals and latex binders which are increasingly of nano dimensions. The coatings are assembled in structures to provide optical barrier performance (opacity) as well as controlled ink interaction with the necessary strength to survive printing and handling. These coatings are frequently similar in structure to seashells and, from this knowledge, progress has been made in understanding the mechanisms at play in achieving higher strength coatings. More recently kaolin clays have been introduced with mean crystal thicknesses in the range 20 to 40 nm instead of the usual 100 to 140 nm. These clays show useful strength performance and represent what may be called pragmatic nanoclays. Novel chemistries based on biomimetic learnings are emerging to displace the conventional starch or latex binders. Examples will be given of protocols for moving toward higher strength systems.

Introduction In any list of dictators and antagonists of the West the name of Libya’s Colonel Muammar Qaddafi will always rank highly as one of the most memorable, colourful and mercurial. The roles he played to his fellow Libyans, to regional groupings, to revolutionaries and to the West were complex and nuanced. These various roles developed over time but were all grounded in his self-belief as a messianic revolutionary figure. More importantly, these roles and behaviours that stemmed from them were instrumental in preserving Qaddafi’s rule and thwarting challenges to it. These facets of Qaddafi’s public self accord with the model of “persona” described by Marshall. Whilst the nature of political persona and celebrity in the Western world has been explored by several scholars (for example Street; Wilson), little work has been conducted on the use of persona by non-democratic leaders. This paper examines the aspects of persona exhibited by Colonel Qaddafi and applied during his tenure. In constructing his role as a revolutionary leader, Qaddafi was engaging in a form of public performance aimed at delivering himself to a wider audience. Whether at home or abroad, this persona served the purpose of helping the Libyan leader consolidate his power, stymie political opposition and export his revolutionary ideals. The trajectory of his persona begins in the early days of his coming to power as a charismatic leader during a “time of distress” (Weber) and culminates in his bloody end next to a roadside drainage culvert. In between these points Qaddafi’s persona underwent refinement and reinvention. Coupled with the legacy he left on the Libyan political system, the journey of Muammar Qaddafi’s personas demonstrate how political personality can be the salvation or damnation of an entire state.Qaddafi: The Brotherly RevolutionaryCaptain Muammar Qaddafi came to power in Libya in 1969 at the age of just 27. He was the leader of a group of military officers who overthrew King Idris in a popular and relatively bloodless coup founded on an ideology of post-colonial Arab nationalism and a doing away with the endemic corruption and nepotism that were the hallmarks of the monarchy. With this revolutionary cause in mind and in an early indication that he recognised the power of political image, Qaddafi showed restraint in adopting the trappings of office. His modest promotion to the rank of Colonel was an obvious example of this, and despite the fact that in practical terms he was the supreme commander of Libya’s armed forces, he resisted the temptation to formally aggrandize himself with military titles for the ensuing 42 years of his rule.High military rank was in a way irrelevant to a man moving to change his persona from army officer to messianic national leader. Switching away from a reliance on military hierarchy as a basis for his authority allowed Qaddafi to re-cast himself as a leader with a broader mission. He began to utilise titles such as “Chairman of the Revolutionary Command Council” (RCC) and “Brotherly Leader and Guide of the Revolution.” The persona on display here was one of detached impartiality and almost reluctant leadership. There was the suggestion that Qaddafi was not really acting as a head of state, but merely an ordinary Libyan who, through popular acclaim, was being begged to lead his people. The attraction of this persona remained until the bitter end for Qaddafi, with his professed inability to step aside from a leadership role he insisted he did not formally occupy. This accords with the contention of Weber, who describes how an individual favoured with charisma can step forward at a time of crisis to complete a “mission.” Once in a position of authority, perpetuating that role of leadership and acclamation can become the mission itself:The holder, of charisma seizes the task that is adequate for him and demands obedience and a following by virtue of his mission. His success determines whether he finds them. His charismatic claim breaks down if his mission is not recognized by those to whom he feels he has been sent. If they recognize him, he is their master—so long as he knows how to maintain recognition through ‘proving’ himself. But he does not derive his ‘right’ from their will, in the manner of an election. Rather, the reverse holds: it is the duty of those to whom he addresses his mission to recognize him as their charismatically qualified leader. (Weber 266-7)As his rule extended across the decades, Qaddafi fostered his revolutionary credentials via a typical cult of personality approach. His image appeared on everything from postage stamps to watches, bags, posters and billboards. Quotations from the Brother Leader were set to music and broadcast as pop songs. “Spontaneous” rallies of support would occur when crowds of loyalists would congregate to hear the Brotherly Leader speak. Although Qaddafi publicly claimed he did not like this level of public adoration he accepted it because the people wanted to adore him. It was widely known however that many of these crowds were paid to attend these rallies (Blundy and Lycett 16).Qaddafi: The Philosopher In developing his persona as a guide and a man who was sharing his natural gifts with the people, Qaddafi developed a post-colonial philosophy he called “Third Universal Theory.” This was published in volumes collectively known as The Green Book. This was mandatory reading for every Libyan and contained a distillation of Qaddafi’s thoughts and opinions on everything from sports to politics to religion to the differences between men and women. Whilst it may be tempting for outsiders to dismiss these writings as the scribbling of a dictator, the legacy of Qaddafi’s persona as political philosopher is worthy of some examination. For in offering his revelations to the Libyan people, Qaddafi extended his mandate beyond leader of a revolution and into the territory of “messianic reformer of a nation.”The Green Book was a three-part series. The first instalment was written in 1975 and focuses on the “problem of democracy” where Qaddafi proposes direct democracy as the best option for a progressive nation. The second instalment, published in 1977, focuses on economics and expounds socialism as the solution to all fiscal woes. (Direct popular action here was evidenced in the RCC making rental of real estate illegal, meaning that all tenants in the country suddenly found themselves granted ownership of the property they were occupying!) The final chapter, published in 1981, proposes the Third Universal Theory where Qaddafi outlines his unique solution for implementing direct democracy and socialism. Qaddafi coined a new term for his Islamically-inspired socialist utopia: Jamahiriya. This was defined as being a “state of the masses” and formed the blueprint for Libyan society which Qaddafi subsequently imposed.This model of direct democracy was part of the charismatic conceit Qaddafi cultivated: that the Libyan people were their own leaders and his role was merely as a benevolent agent acceding to their wishes. However the implementation of the Jamahiriya was anything but benevolent and its legacy has crippled post-Qaddafi Libya. Under this system, Libyans did have some control over their affairs at a very local level. Beyond this, an increasingly complex series of committees and regional groupings, over which the RCC had the right of veto, diluted the participation of ordinary citizens and their ability to coalesce around any individual leader. The banning of standard avenues of political organisation, such as parties and unions, coupled with a ruthless police state that detained and executed anyone offering even a hint of political dissent served to snuff out any opposition before it had a chance to gather pace. The result was that there were no Libyans with enough leadership experience or public profile to take over when Qaddafi was ousted in 2011.Qaddafi: The Liberator In a further plank of his revolutionary persona Qaddafi turned to the world beyond Libya to offer his brotherly guidance. This saw him champion any cause that claimed to be a liberation or resistance movement struggling against the shackles of colonialism. He tended to favour groups that had ideologies aligned with his own, namely Arab unity and the elimination of Israel, but ultimately was not consistent in this regard. Aside from Palestinian nationalists, financial support was offered to groups such as the Provisional Irish Republican Army, the Moro National Liberation Front (Philippines), Umkhonto we Sizwe (South Africa), ETA (Spain), the Polisario Front (Western Sahara), and even separatist indigenous Australians. This policy of backing revolutionary groups was certainly a projection of his persona as a charismatic enabler of the revolutionary mission. However, the reception of this mission in the wider world formed the basis for the image that Qaddafi most commonly occupied in Western eyes.In 1979 the ongoing Libyan support for groups pursuing violent action against Israel and the West saw the country designated a State-Sponsor of Terror by the US Department of State. Diplomatic relations between the two nations were severed and did not resume until 2004. At this point Qaddafi seemed to adopt a persona of “opponent of the West,” ostensibly on behalf of the world’s downtrodden colonial peoples. The support for revolutionary groups was changing to a more active use of them to strike at Western interests. At the same time Qaddafi stepped up his rhetoric against America and Britain, positioning himself as a champion of the Arab world, as the one leader who had the courage of his convictions and the only one who was squarely on the side of the ordinary citizenry (in contrast to other, more compliant Arab rulers). Here again there is evidence of the charismatic revolutionary persona, reluctantly taking up the burden of leadership on behalf of his brothers.Whatever his ideals, the result was that Qaddafi and his state became the focus of increasing Western ire. A series of incidents between the US and Libya in international waters added to the friction, as did Libyan orchestrated terror attacks in Berlin, Rome and Vienna. At the height of this tension in 1986, American aircraft bombed targets in Libya, narrowly missing Qaddafi himself. This role as public enemy of America led to Qaddafi being characterised by President Ronald Reagan (no stranger to the use of persona himself) as the “mad dog of the Middle East” and a “squalid criminal.” The enmity of the West made life difficult for ordinary Libyans dealing with crippling sanctions, but for Qaddafi, it helped bolster his persona as a committed revolutionary.Qaddafi: Leader of the Arab and African Worlds Related to his early revolutionary ideologies were Qaddafi’s aspirations as a pan-national leader. Inspired by Egypt’s Gamel Abdul Nasser from a young age, the ideals of pan-Arab unity were always a cornerstone of Qaddafi’s beliefs. It is not therefore surprising that he developed ambitions of being the person to bring about and “guide” that unity. Once again the Weberian description of the charismatic leader is relevant, particularly the notion that such leadership does not respect conventional boundaries of functional jurisdictions or local bailiwicks; in this case, state boundaries.During the 1970s Qaddafi was involved in numerous attempts to broker Arab unions between Libya and states such as Egypt, Syria and Tunisia. All of these failed to materialise once the exact details of the mergers began to be discussed, in particular who would assume the mantle of leadership in these super-states. In line with his persona as the rightly-guided revolutionary, Qaddafi consistently blamed the failure of these unions on the other parties, souring his relationship with his fellow Arab leaders. His hardline stance on Israel also put him at odds with those peers more determined to find a compromise. Following the assassination of Egypt’s Anwar Sadat in 1981 Qaddafi praised the act as justified because of Sadat’s signing of the Camp David Accords with Israel.Having given up on the hope of achieving pan-Arab Unity, Qaddafi sought to position himself as a leader of the African bloc. In 2009 he became Chairperson of the African Union and took to having himself introduced as “The King of Kings of Africa.” The level of dysfunction of the African Union was no less than that of the Arab League and Qaddafi’s grandiose plans for becoming the President of the United States of Africa failed to materialise.In both his pan-Arab and pan-Africa ambitions, we see a persona of Qaddafi that aims at leadership beyond his own state. Whilst there may be delusions of grandeur apparent in the practicalities of these goals, this image was nevertheless something that Qaddafi used to leverage the next phase of his political transformation.Qaddafi: The Post-9/11 Statesman However much he might be seen as erratic, Qaddafi’s innate intelligence could result in a political astuteness lacking in many of his Arab peers. Following the events of 11 September 2001, Qaddafi was the first international leader to condemn the attacks on America and pledge support in the War on Terror and the extermination of al-Qaeda. Despite his history as a supporter of terrorism overseas, Qaddafi had a long history of repressing it at home, just as with any other form of political opposition. The pan-Islamism of al-Qaeda was anathema to his key ideologies of direct democracy (guided by himself). This meant the United States and Libya were now finally on the same team. As part of this post-9/11 sniffing of the wind, Qaddafi abandoned his fledgling Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD) program and finally agreed to pay reparations to the families of the victims of the Pan Am 107 flight downed over Lockerbie in 1987.This shift in Qaddafi’s policy did not altogether dispel his persona of brotherly leadership amongst African nations. As a bloc leader and an example of the possibility of ‘coming in from the cold’, Qaddafi and Libya were reintegrated into the world community. This included giving a speech at the United Nations in 2009. This event did little to add to his reputation as a statesman in the West. Given a 15-minute slot, the Libyan leader delivered a rambling address over 90 minutes long, which included him tearing up a copy of the UN Charter and turning his back to the audience whilst continuing to speak.Qaddafi: The Clown From the Western point of view, performances like this painted Qaddafi’s behaviour as increasingly bizarre. Particularly after Libya’s rapprochement with the West, the label of threatening terrorist supporter faded and was replaced with something along the lines of a harmless clown prince. Tales of the Libyan leader’s coterie of virgin female bodyguards were the subject of ridicule, as was his ardour for US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. Perhaps this behaviour was indicative of a leader increasingly divorced from reality. Surrounded by sycophants dependent on his regard for their tenure or physical survival, as well as Western leaders eager to contrast his amiability with that of Saddam Hussein, nobody was prepared to draw attention to the emperor’s new clothes.Indeed, elaborate and outlandish clothing played an increasing role in Qaddafi’s persona as the decades went on. His simple revolutionary fatigues of the early years were superseded by a vast array of military uniforms heavily decorated with medals and emblems; traditional African, Arab or Bedouin robes depending on the occasion; and in later years a penchant for outfits that included images of the African continent or pictures of dead martyrs. (In 2009 Vanity Fair did a tongue-in-cheek article on the fashion of Colonel Qaddafi entitled Dictator Chic: Colonel Qaddafi—A Life in Fashion. This spawned a number of similar features including one in TIME Magazine entitled Gaddafi Fashion: The Emperor Had Some Crazy Clothes.)The Bedouin theme was an aspect of persona that Qaddafi cultivated as an ascetic “man of the people” throughout his leadership. Despite having many palaces available he habitually slept in an elaborate tent, according once again with Weber’s description of the charismatic leader as one who eschews methodical material gain. This predisposition served him well in the 1986 United States bombing, when his residence in a military barracks was demolished, but Qaddafi escaped unscathed as he was in his tent at the time. He regularly entertained foreign dignitaries in tents when they visited Libya and he took one when travelling abroad, including pitching it in the gardens of a Parisian hotel during a state visit in 2007. (A request to camp in New York’s Central Park for his UN visit in 2009 was denied; “Inside the Tents of Muammar Gaddafi”).The role of such a clown was unlikely to have been an aim for Qaddafi, but was instead the product of his own increasing isolation. It will likely be his most enduring character in the Western memory of his rule. It should be noted though that clowns and fools do not maintain an iron grip on power for over 40 years.The Legacy of Qaddafi’s Many Personas Colonel Muammar Qaddafi was a clever and complex leader who exhibited many variations of persona during his four decades of rule. These personas were generally facets of the same core self-belief of a charismatic leader, but could be conflicting, and often confusing, to observers. His eccentricities often hid a layer of deeper cunning and ambition, but ultimately led to his marginalisation and an impression by world leaders that he was untrustworthy.His erratic performance at the UN in 2009 perhaps typifies the end stages of Qaddafi’s leadership: a man increasingly disconnected from his people and the realities of what was going on around him. His insistence that the 2011 Libyan revolution was variously a colonial or terrorist inspired piece of theatre belied the deep resentment of his rule. His role as opponent of the Western and Arab worlds alike meant that he was unsupported in his attempts to deal with the uprising. Indeed, the West’s rapid willingness to use their airpower was instrumental in speeding on the rebel forces.What cannot be disputed is the chaotic legacy this charismatic figure left for his country. Since the uprising climaxed in his on-camera lynching in October 2011, Libya has been plunged in to turmoil and shows no signs of this abating. One of the central reasons for this chaos is that Qaddafi’s supremacy, his political philosophies, and his use of messianic persona left Libya completely unprepared for rule by any other party.This ensuing chaos has been a cruel, if ironic, proof of Qaddafi’s own conceit: Libya could not survive without him.References Al-Gathafi, Muammar. The Green Book: The Solution to the Problem of Democracy; The Solution to the Economic Problem; The Social Basis of the Third Universal Theory. UK: Ithaca Press, 2005.Blundy, David, and Andrew Lycett. Qaddafi and the Libyan Revolution. Boston and Toronto: Little Brown & Co, 1987.Marshall, P. David. “Persona Studies: Mapping the Proliferation of the Public Self”. Journalism 15.2 (2014): 153-170.Qaddafi, Muammar. Speech at the United Nations 2009. ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BKMyY2V0J0Y›. Street, John. “Celebrity Politicians: Popular Culture and Political Representation.” British Journal of Politics and International Relations 6 (2004): 435-52.Street, John. “Do Celebrity Politics and Celebrity Politicians Matter?” The British Journal of Politics & International Relations 14.3 (2012): 346-356.TIME Magazine. “Gaddafi Fashion: The Emperor Had Some Crazy Clothes.” ‹http://content.time.com/time/photogallery/0,29307,2055860,00.html›.TIME Magazine. “Inside the Tents of Muammar Gaddafi.” ‹http://content.time.com/time/photogallery/0,29307,2058074,00.html›.Totman, Sally, and Mat Hardy. “In the Green Zone: 40 years with Colonel Qaddafi.” Ed. Geoffrey Hawker. APSA 2009: Proceedings of the APSA Annual Conference 2009. Sydney: Macquarie University, 2009. 1-19.Totman, Sally, and Mat Hardy. “The Rise and Decline of Libya as a Rogue State.” OCIS 2008: Oceanic Conference on International Studies. Brisbane: University of Queensland, 2008. 1-25.Vanity Fair. “Dictator Chic: Colonel Qaddafi—A Life in Fashion.” ‹http://www.vanityfair.com/politics/features/2009/08/qaddafi-slideshow200908›.Weber, Max, Hans Heinrich Gerth, and C. Wright Mills. From Max Weber: Essays in Sociology. London: Routledge, 2009.Wilson, J. “Kevin Rudd, Celebrity and Audience Democracy in Australia.” Journalism 15.2 (2013): 202-217.

Note: In this essay, the term "Chicano" is used because it was the identifier claimed by historical participants in the Mexican American Movement in the United States throughout the 1960s and 1970s. The Mexican American Movement is a term that has been expanded since its inception in the mid-1960s and that has addressed many different social, cultural, political, and economic issues, but it mostly focused on four: land ownership. workers' rights, and educational and political equality.1 In the context of this discourse, the authors offer that the Mexican American Movement is synonymous with the Chicano Movement. The authors also utilize the contemporary term Latinx to refer to a person of Latin American origin or descent.2&nbsp;Along with other civil rights movements like Black Power, women's liberation, and gay rights that were initiated and sustained in the United States during the 1960s and 1970s (and beyond), the Chicano Movement (also known as El Movimiento) advocated for social justice by using independent publications to amplify its message. Independent publications are defined in this context as periodicals produced without approval from established publishers and presses or against the wishes of a dominant governmental or institutional group.3 Newly accessible and affordable design technologies such as offset printing and production technologies brought about a rise of independent publishing in the U.S. in the 1960s--especially in urban American settings--and helped fuel the rise of the American activist-designer. The ability to utilize these types of publications to disperse information quickly to targeted audiences allowed for the correction of at least some of the disinformation about the Chicano movement that had begun to appear in the traditional, American "white press," and in the so-called mass media of the time.4 For example, the independent Los Angeles newspaper and magazine La Raza observed in 1969 that neither the Los Angeles Times nor the Herald Examiner published many stories about Mexican-Americans, and in the stories they did print, 80% had been, in the words of one scholar, "sensationalized reports of crime allegedly committed by Mexican-Americans."5 Activists within the Chicano community designed and wrote these publications to serve as a record of social, political, cultural, and economic events, and encourage their readerships to act by unionizing, boycotting products, and marching in demonstrations to advocate for social justice. After documenting and critically analyzing the Chicano publications archived at research centers at universities in California and Texas, the authors observed the repeated usage of a unique genre of formal patterns utilized in the compositions of the cover designs of many of these Chicano publications. The authors are using these critical observations to posit that these graphic compositions constitute a distinctive Chicano visual language that consists of original, stylized deployments of imagery, icons, and masthead typography, and that this visual language was operationalized to visually communicate the socio-cultural locations of the issues these publications were addressing in ways that would effectively resonate with their particular audiences. The visual languages that affected the compositions of the covers and, in some cases, the interior page spreads of these independent Chicano publications (i.e. newspapers, newsletters, flyers, and small magazines intended for readerships in areas such as Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California) were critical to the formation and sustenance of the Chicano visual and socio-cultural identity and the role these played in visually communicating the ideals of the Chicano movement across the American southwest.The visual essay and narrative organized for Dialectic is titled En El Frente, which translates from Spanish to English as "On the Front." It documents and analyzes some of the ways that the assertions and formal arrangements of these uniquely Chicano visual language elements and compositions were used in these publications by the designer activists who created them to advocate for social, economic, and political justice in and around their communities. Between approximately 1966 and late 1979, over 300 Chicano publications from 150 communities (mostly in the American southwest, but also Chicago, Illinois, Brooklyn, New York and Washington, D.C.) were designed and distributed across the United States, and together they constitute an important addition to the predominantly white American design canon.6 By making this particular historical analysis of periodical publications designed and written by Chicanos more accessible to contemporary design practitioners in the U.S. and around the world, the authors seek to expand the canon of historical approaches to engaging in and executing visual communication design processes in ways that might positively influence these processes, particularly in the U.S., so as to make them more broadly informed, equitable, and inclusive.

The environmental-ecological problem that humanity faces today is believed to be as ‘the ultimate life issue.’Such is the rationale for the study. This research investigates the said issue thru descriptive-historical research. Lonergan’smethod is used as a framework of the study. Lonergan distinguishes four realms of meaning as: (1) common sense, (2) theory, (3) interiority, and (4) transcendence. The investigation covers the gamut of the ecological problem, the causes and origins, the present environmental situation, its encompassing effects, and the different paradigmatic responses to it. The environmental crisis can be traced from how the people’s mindset and cultural attitudes operate in relationto how nature can be used in the pursuit of science, modernization, growth, and progress. The sad state of theenvironmental degradation includes the prevalence of continued deforestation, uncontrolled flooding, topsoil erosion,heavily silted inland waterways, destruction of coral reefs, and various forms of pollution. Amidst the crisis, hope can be seenfrom the moral values and beliefs of Filipinos. Social principles can be transformed into practice through authentic humanfunctioning associated with knowledge and choice. References Boff, L. Cry of the poor, cry of the earth. New York: Orbis Books. Bokenkotter, T. 1992. Dynamic Catholicism: A historical catechism. New York: ImageBooks, 1997. Byrne, B. Inheriting the Earth: The Pauline basis of a spirituality of our time. NewYork: Alba House, 1990. Cajes, P.A. Anitism and Perichoresis: Towards a Filipino Christian Eco-theology ofNature. Quezon City: Our Lady of Angel Seminary, 2002. Cane, B. Circles of hope: Breathing life and spirit into a wounded world.Makati: St.Paul Philippines, 1997. Christiansen, D. & Grazer, W. (Eds). “And God saw that it was good:” Catholic theologyand the environment. Washington: United States Catholic Conference, 1996. Church, A.T. Filipino personality: A review of research and writings. Manila: De LaSalle University Press Monograph Series Number 6, 1986. Church, A.T. & Katigbak, M.S. Filipino personality: Indigenous and cross-culturalstudies. Manila: De La Salle University Press, Inc, 2000. Conn, W. Christian conversion: A developmental interpretation of autonomy andsurrender. New York: Paulist Press, 1986. Dorr, D. Integrated spirituality: Resources for community, peace, justice and theearth. New York: Orbis Books, 1990. ________. The social justice agenda: Justice, ecology, power and the Church.NewYork: Orbis Books, 1991. Enriquez, V.G. From Colonial to Liberation Psychology: The Philippine Experience.Manila: De La Salle University Press, 1994a. _______________. Pagbabangong dangal: Indigenous psychology and cultural empowerment.Philippines: Pugad Lawin Press, 1994b. Gamalinda, E. (Ed.). Saving the earth: The Philippine experience. Manila: PhilippineCenter for Investigative Journalism, 1990. Grace, R.J. The transcendental method of Bernard Lonergan. Retrieved on July 1,2002, from http://pages.sbcglobal.net/rjgrace/lonergan.htm, 2001. Gorospe, V.R. Filipino values revisited. Manila: National Book Store, 1988. Haughey, J.C. The faith that does justice: Examining the christian sources for socialchange. New York: Paulist Press, 1977. Hill, B.R. Christian faith and the environment: Making vital connections. New York:Orbis Books, 1998. Holland, J. & Henriot, P. Social Analysis: Linking faith and justice. Revised andEnlarged Edition. New York: Orbis Books, 1983. Hui, S. Deforestation: Humankind and the global ecological crisis. Retrieved onJune 22, 2002, from http://www.aquapulse.net/knowledge/deforestation.html, 1997. International Commission on J.P.I.C. Manual for promoters of justice, peace andintegrity of creation. Quezon City: Claretian Pulications, 1998. Institute on Church and social Issues. The Philippine National Situationer. QuezonCity: Institute on Church and Social Issues, 1999. Johnson, E. A. Women, earth, and creator spirit. New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1993. _______________. “Losing and finding creation in Christian Tradition,” in Hessel, andR.R. Ruether. (2000). (Eds). Christianity and ecology: Seeking the well-beingof earth and humans. Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 2000. Lonergan, B.J.F. Introducing the thought of Bernard Lonergan. London: Darton,Longman & Tood, (1973). Lonergan, B.J.F. Method in theology. Canada: Toronto University Press, 1994. McDonagh, S. To care for the earth: A call to a new theology. London: GoeffreyChapman, 1986. McDonagh, S. The greening of the church. New York: Orbis Books, 1990. _______________. Passion for the earth: The christian vocation to promote justice,peace, and the integrity of creation. London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1994. McFague, S. The body of God: An ecological theology. London: SCM Press, Ltd, 1993. Natividad, E.L. Chaos Theory and Theology: Scientific perspectives on Divine action.Unpublished doctoral dissertation, De La Salle University, Manila, 2000. Northcott, M.S. The environment and Christian ethics. Cambridge: Cambridge UniversityPress, 1999. Robbins, O., & Solomon, S. Choices for our future: A generation rising for the life onearth. Tennessee: Book Publishing Company, 1994. Romero, S.E. Changing Filipino values and the re-democratization of governance.In Han Sung-Joo. (1999). (Ed.). Changing values in Asia: Their impact ongovernance and development. Tokyo: Japan Center for International Exchange, 1999. Ruether, R.R. (Ed.). Women healing earth: Third world women on ecology,feminism,and religion. New York: Orbis Books, 1996. ______________. Sexism and God-Talk: Toward a feminist theology. New York: PaulistPress, 1983. Ruether, R.R. The biblical vision of ecological crisis. Retrieved on July 5,2002 from http://www.religion-online.org/cgi-bin/relsearchd. dll/showarticle?item_id=1807, 1978. Ryan, T. Ecology. In Dwyer, J.A. (1994). (Ed). The new dictionary of Catholic socialthought. Collegeville, Minnesota: The Liturgical Press, 1994. Smith, P. What are they saying about environmental ethics? NY/Mahwah, NJ: PaulistPress, 1997. Streeter, C.M. “Aquinas, Lonergan, and the split soul,” Theology Digest, 32, 4, 1985. Swimme, B. Where does your faith fit in the cosmos? Retrieved September 14,2001, in http://www.uscatholic.org/1997/06/cosmos.html, 1997. Time Magazine. Global warming: Feeling the heat. Time Magazine Special Report.9 April 2001. Wenz, D.S. Environmental ethics today. New York: Oxford University Press, 2001. White, L. The historical roots of our ecological crisis. Retrieved on July 5, 2002 inhttp://www.zbi.ee/~kalevi/lwhite.htm, 2002. Utting, P. (Ed.). Forest policy and politics in the Philippines: The dynamics of participatoryconservation. Quezon City: United Nations Research for SocialDevelopment and Ateneo de Manila University Press, 2000. Zimmerman, M.E. (Ed.). Environmental philosophy: From animal rights to radicalecology. New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1993.

Introduction The first “Aquarius Festival” came together in Canberra, at the Australian National University, in the autumn of 1971 and was reprised in 1973 in the small rural town of Nimbin, in northern New South Wales. Both events reflected the Zeitgeist in what was, in some ways, an inchoate expression of the so-called “counterculture” (Roszak). Rather than attempting to analyse the counterculture as a discrete movement with a definable history, I enlist the theory of cultural memes to read the counter culture as a Dawkinsian cluster meme, with this paper offered as “testimonio”, a form of quasi-political memoir that views shifts in the culture through the lens of personal experience (Zimmerman, Yúdice). I track an evolving personal, “internal” topography and map its points of intersection with the radical social, political and cultural changes spawned by the “consciousness revolution” that was an integral part of the counterculture emerging in the 1970s. I focus particularly on the notion of “consciousness raising”, as a Dawkinsian memetic replicator, in the context of the idealistic notions of the much-heralded “New Age” of Aquarius, and propose that this meme has been a persistent feature of the evolution of the “meme cluster” known as the counterculture. Mimesis and the Counterculture Since evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins floated the notion of cultural memes as a template to account for the evolution of ideas within political cultures, a literature of commentary and criticism has emerged that debates the strengths and weaknesses of his proposed model and its application across a number of fields. I borrow the notion to trace the influence of a set of memes that clustered around the emergence of what writer Marilyn Ferguson called The Aquarian Conspiracy, in her 1980 book of that name. Ferguson’s text, subtitled Personal and Social Transformation in Our Time, was a controversial attempt to account for what was known as the “New Age” movement, with its late millennial focus on social and personal transformation. That focus leads me to approach the counterculture (a term first floated by Theodore Roszak) less as a definable historical movement and more as a cluster of aspirational tropes expressing a range of aspects or concerns, from the overt political activism through to experimental technologies for the transformation of consciousness, and all characterised by a critical interrogation of, and resistance to, conventional social norms (Ferguson’s “personal and social transformation”). With its more overtly “spiritual” focus, I read the “New Age” meme, then, as a sub-set of this “cluster meme”, the counterculture. In my reading, “New Age” and “counterculture” overlap, sharing persistent concerns and a broad enough tent to accommodate the serious—the combative political action of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), say, (see Elbaum)—to the light-hearted—the sport of frisbee for example (Stancil). The interrogation of conventional social and political norms inherited from previous generations was a prominent strategy across both movements. Rather than offering a sociological analysis or history of the ragbag counterculture, per se, my discussion here focuses in on the particular meme of “consciousness raising” within that broader set of cultural shifts, some of which were sustained in their own right, some dropping away, and many absorbed into the dominant mainstream culture. Dawkins use of the term “meme” was rooted in the Greek mimesis, to emphasise the replication of an idea by imitation, or copying. He likened the way ideas survive and change in human culture to the natural selection of genes in biological evolution. While the transmission of memes does not depend on a physical medium, such as the DNA of biology, they replicate with a greater or lesser degree of success by harnessing human social media in a kind of “infectivity”, it is argued, through “contagious” repetition among human populations. Dawkins proposed that just as biological organisms could be said to act as “hosts” for replicating genes, in the same way people and groups of people act as hosts for replicating memes. Even before Dawkins floated his term, French biologist Jacques Monod wrote that ideas have retained some of the properties of organisms. Like them, they tend to perpetuate their structure and to breed; they too can fuse, recombine, segregate their content; indeed they too can evolve, and in this evolution selection must surely play an important role. (165, emphasis mine) Ideas have power, in Monod’s analysis: “They interact with each other and with other mental forces in the same brain, in neighbouring brains, and thanks to global communication, in far distant, foreign brains” (Monod, cited in Gleick). Emblematic of the counterculture were various “New Age” phenomena such as psychedelic drugs, art and music, with the latter contributing the “Aquarius” meme, whose theme song came from the stage musical (and later, film) Hair, and particularly the lyric that runs: “This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius”. The Australian Aquarius Festivals of 1971 and 1973 explicitly invoked this meme in the way identified by Monod and the “Aquarius” meme resonated even in Australia. Problematising “Aquarius” As for the astrological accuracy of the “Age of Aquarius meme”, professional astrologers argue about its dating, and the qualities that supposedly characterise it. When I consulted with two prominent workers in this field for the preparation of this article, I was astonished to find their respective dating of the putative Age of Aquarius were centuries apart! What memes were being “hosted” here? According to the lyrics: When the moon is in the seventh house And Jupiter aligns with Mars Then peace will guide the planets And love will steer the stars. (Hair) My astrologer informants assert that the moon is actually in the seventh house twice every year, and that Jupiter aligns with Mars every two years. Yet we are still waiting for the outbreak of peace promised according to these astrological conditions. I am also informed that there’s no “real” astrological underpinning for the aspirations of the song’s lyrics, for an astrological “Age” is not determined by any planet but by constellations rising, they tell me. Most important, contrary to the aspirations embodied in the lyrics, peace was not guiding the planets and love was not about to “steer the stars”. For Mars is not the planet of love, apparently, but of war and conflict and, empowered with the expansiveness of Jupiter, it was the forceful aggression of a militaristic mind-set that actually prevailed as the “New Age” supposedly dawned. For the hippified summer of love had taken a nosedive with the tragic events at the Altamont speedway, near San Francisco in 1969, when biker gangs, enlisted to provide security for a concert performance by The Rolling Stones allegedly provoked violence, marring the event and contributing to a dawning disillusionment (for a useful coverage of the event and its historical context see Dalton). There was a lot of far-fetched poetic licence involved in this dreaming, then, but memes, according to Nikos Salingaros, are “greatly simplified versions of patterns”. “The simpler they are, the faster they can proliferate”, he writes, and the most successful memes “come with a great psychological appeal” (243, 260; emphasis mine). What could be retrieved from this inchoate idealism? Harmony and understanding Sympathy and trust abounding No more falsehoods or derisions Golden living dreams of visions Mystic crystal revelation And the mind’s true liberation Aquarius, Aquarius. (Hair) In what follows I want to focus on this notion: “mind’s true liberation” by tracing the evolution of this project of “liberating” the mind, reflected in my personal journey. Nimbin and Aquarius I had attended the first Aquarius Festival, which came together in Canberra, at the Australian National University, in the autumn of 1971. I travelled there from Perth, overland, in a Ford Transit van, among a raggedy band of tie-dyed hippie actors, styled as The Campus Guerilla Theatre Troupe, re-joining our long-lost sisters and brothers as visionary pioneers of the New Age of Aquarius. Our visions were fueled with a suitcase full of potent Sumatran “buddha sticks” and, contrary to Biblical prophesies, we tended to see—not “through a glass darkly” but—in psychedelic, pop-, and op-art explosions of colour. We could see energy, man! Two years later, I found myself at the next Aquarius event in Nimbin, too, but by that time I inhabited a totally different mind-zone, albeit one characterised by the familiar, intense idealism. In the interim, I had been arrested in 1971 while “tripping out” in Sydney on potent “acid”, or LSD (Lysergic acid diethylamide); had tried out political engagement at the Pram Factory Theatre in Melbourne; had camped out in protest at the flooding of Lake Pedder in the Tasmanian wilderness; met a young guru, started meditating, and joined “the ashram”—part of the movement known as the Divine Light Mission, which originated in India and was carried to the “West” (including Australia) by an enthusiastic and evangelical following of drug-toking drop-outs who had been swarming through India intent on escaping the dominant culture of the military-industrial complex and the horrors of the Vietnam War. Thus, by the time of the 1973 event in Nimbin, while other festival participants were foraging for “gold top” magic mushrooms in farmers’ fields, we devotees had put aside such chemical interventions in conscious awareness to dig latrines (our “service” project for the event) and we invited everyone to join us for “satsang” in the yellow, canvas-covered, geodesic dome, to attend to the message of peace. The liberation meme had shifted through a mutation that involved lifestyle-changing choices that were less about alternative approaches to sustainable agriculture and more about engaging directly with “mind’s true liberation”. Raising Consciousness What comes into focus here is the meme of “consciousness raising”, which became the persistent project within which I lived and worked and had my being for many years. Triggered initially by the ingestion of those psychedelic substances that led to my shocking encounter with the police, the project was carried forward into the more disciplined environs of my guru’s ashrams. However, before my encounter with sustained spiritual practice I had tried to work the shift within the parameters of an ostensibly political framework. “Consciousness raising” was a form of political activism borrowed from the political sphere. Originally generated by Mao Zedong in China during the revolutionary struggle to overthrow the vested colonial interests that were choking Chinese nationalism in the 1940s, to our “distant, foreign brains” (Monod), as Western revolutionary romantics, Chairman Mao and his Little Red Book were taken up, in a kind of international counterculture solidarity with revolutionaries everywhere. It must be admitted, this solidarity was a fairly superficial gesture. Back in China it might be construed as part of a crude totalitarian campaign to inculcate Marxist-Leninist political ideas among the peasant classes (see Compestine for a fictionalised account of traumatic times; Han Suyin’s long-form autobiography—an early example of testimonio as personal and political history—offers an unapologetic account of a struggle not usually construed as sympathetically by Western commentators). But the meme (and the processes) of consciousness raising were picked up by feminists in the United States in the late 1960s and into the 1970s (Brownmiller 21) and it was in this form I encountered it as an actor with the politically engaged theatre troupe, The Australian Performing Group, at Carlton’s Pram Factory Theatre in late 1971. The Performance Group I performed as a core member of the Group in 1971-72. Decisions as to which direction the Group should take were to be made as a collective, and the group veered towards anarchy. Most of the women were getting together outside of the confines of the Pram Factory to raise their consciousness within the Carlton Women’s Liberation Cell Group. While happy that the sexual revolution was reducing women’s sexual inhibitions, some of the men at the Factory were grumbling into their beer, disturbed that intimate details of their private lives—and their sexual performance—might be disclosed and raked over by a bunch of radical feminists. As they began to demand equal rights to orgasm in the bedroom, the women started to seek equal access within the performance group, too. They requested rehearsal time to stage the first production by the Women’s Theatre Group, newly formed under the umbrella of the wider collective. As all of the acknowledged writers in the Group so far were men—some of whom had not kept pace in consciousness raising—scripts tended to be viewed as part of a patriarchal plot, so Betty Can Jump was an improvised piece, with the performance material developed entirely by the cast in workshop-style rehearsals, under the direction of Kerry Dwyer (see Blundell, Zuber-Skerritt 21, plus various contributors at www.pramfactory.com/memoirsfolder/). I was the only male in the collective included in the cast. Several women would have been more comfortable if no mere male were involved at all. My gendered attitudes would scarcely have withstood a critical interrogation but, as my partner was active in launching the Women’s Electoral Lobby, I was given the benefit of the doubt. Director Kerry Dwyer liked my physicalised approach to performance (we were both inspired by the “poor theatre” of Jerzy Grotowski and the earlier surrealistic theories of Antonin Artaud), and I was cast to play all the male parts, whatever they would be. Memorable material came up in improvisation, much of which made it into the performances, but my personal favorite didn’t make the cut. It was a sprawling movement piece where I was “born” out of a symbolic mass of writhing female bodies. It was an arduous process and, after much heaving and huffing, I emerged from the birth canal stammering “SSSS … SSSS … SSMMMO-THER”! The radical reversioning of culturally authorised roles for women has inevitably, if more slowly, led to a re-thinking of the culturally approved and reinforced models of masculinity, too, once widely accepted as entirely biologically ordained rather than culturally constructed. But the possibility of a queer re-versioning of gender would be recognised only slowly. Liberation Meanwhile, Dennis Altman was emerging as an early spokesman for gay, or homosexual, liberation and he was invited to address the collective. Altman’s stirring book, Homosexual: Oppression and Liberation, had recently been published, but none of us had read it. Radical or not, the Group had shown little evidence of sensitivity to gender-queer issues. My own sexuality was very much “oppressed” rather than liberated and I would have been loath to use “queer” to describe myself. The term “homosexual” was fraught with pejorative, quasi-medical associations and, in a collective so divided across strict and sometimes hostile gender boundaries, deviant affiliations got short shrift. Dennis was unsure of his reception before this bunch of apparent “heteros”. Sitting at the rear of the meeting, I admired his courage. It took more self-acceptance than I could muster to confront the Group on this issue at the time. Somewhere in the back of my mind, “homosexuality” was still something I was supposed to “get over”, so I failed to respond to Altman’s implicit invitation to come out and join the party. The others saw me in relationship with a woman and whatever doubts they might have carried about the nature of my sexuality were tactfully suspended. Looking back, I am struck by the number of simultaneous poses I was trying to maintain: as an actor; as a practitioner of an Artaudian “theatre of cruelty”; as a politically committed activist; and as a “hetero”-sexual. My identity was an assemblage of entities posing as “I”; it was as if I were performing a self. Little gay boys are encouraged from an early age to hide their real impulses, not only from others—in the very closest circle, the family; at school; among one’s peers—but from themselves, too. The coercive effects of shaming usually fix the denial into place in our psyches before we have any intellectual (or political) resources to consider other options. Growing up trying to please, I hid my feelings. In my experience, it could be downright dangerous to resist the subtle and gross coercions that applied around gender normativity. The psychoanalyst D. W. Winnicott, of the British object-relations school, argues that when the environment does not support the developing personality and requires the person to sacrifice his or her own spontaneous needs to adapt to environmental demands, there is not even a resting-place for individual experience and the result is a failure in the primary narcissistic state to evolve an individual. The “individual” then develops as an extension of the shell rather than that of the core [...] What there is left of a core is hidden away and is difficult to find even in the most far-reaching analysis. The individual then exists by not being found. The true self is hidden, and what we have to deal with clinically is the complex false self whose function is to keep this true self hidden. (212) How to connect to that hidden core, then? “Mind’s true liberation...” Alienated from the performative version of selfhood, but still inspired by the promise of liberation, even in the “fuzzy” form for which my inchoate hunger yearned (sexual liberation? political liberation? mystical liberation?), I was left to seek out a more authentic basis for selfhood, one that didn’t send me spinning along the roller-coaster of psychedelic drugs, or lie to me with the nostrums of a toxic, most forms of which would deny me, as a sexual, moral and legal pariah, the comforts of those “anchorage points to the social matrix” identified by Soddy (cited in Mol 58). My spiritual inquiry was “counter” to these institutionalised models of religious culture. So, I began to read my way through a myriad of books on comparative religion. And to my surprise, rather than taking up with the religions of antique cultures, instead I encountered a very young guru, initially as presented in a simply drawn poster in the window of Melbourne’s only vegetarian restaurant (Shakahari, in Carlton). “Are you hungry and tired of reading recipe books?” asked the figure in the poster. I had little sense of where that hunger would lead me, but it seemed to promise a fulfilment in ways that the fractious politics of the APG offered little nourishment. So, while many of my peers in the cities chose to pursue direct political action, and others experimented with cooperative living in rural communes, I chose the communal lifestyle of the ashram. In these different forms, then, the conscious raising meme persisted when other challenges raised by the counterculture either faded or were absorbed in the mainstream. I finally came to realise that the intense disillusionment process I had been through (“dis-illusionment” as the stripping away of illusions) was the beginning of awakening, in effect a “spiritual initiation” into a new way of seeing myself and my “place” in the world. Buddhist teachers might encourage this very kind of stripping away of false notions as part of their teaching, so the aspiration towards the “true liberation” of the mind expressed in the Aquarian visioning might be—and in my case, actually has been and continues to be—fulfilled to a very real extent. Gurus and the entire turn towards Eastern mysticism were part of the New Age meme cluster prevailing during the early 1970s, but I was fortunate to connect with an enduring set of empirical practices that haven’t faded with the fashions of the counterculture. A good guitarist would never want to play in public without first tuning her instrument. In a similar way, it is now possible for me to tune my mind back to a deeper, more original source of being than the socially constructed sense of self, which had been so fraught with conflicts for me. I have discovered that before gender, and before sexuality, in fact, pulsing away behind the thicket of everyday associations, there is an original, unconditioned state of beingness, the awareness of which can be reclaimed through focused meditation practices, tested in a wide variety of “real world” settings. For quite a significant period of time I worked as an instructor in the method on behalf of my guru, or mentor, travelling through a dozen or so countries, and it was through this exposure that I was able to observe that the practices worked independently of culture and that “mind’s true liberation” was in many ways a de-programming of cultural indoctrinations (see Marsh, 2014, 2013, 2011 and 2007 for testimony of this process). In Japan, Zen roshi might challenge their students with the koan: “Show me your original face, before you were born!” While that might seem to be an absurd proposal, I am finding that there is a potential, if unexpected, liberation in following through such an inquiry. As “hokey” as the Aquarian meme-set might have been, it was a reflection of the idealistic hope that characterised the cluster of memes that aggregated within the counterculture, a yearning for healthier life choices than those offered by the toxicity of the military-industrial complex, the grossly exploitative effects of rampant Capitalism and a politics of cynicism and domination. The meme of the “true liberation” of the mind, then, promised by the heady lyrics of a 1970s hippie musical, has continued to bear fruit in ways that I could not have imagined. References Altman, Dennis. Homosexual Oppression and Liberation. Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1972. Blundell, Graeme. The Naked Truth: A Life in Parts. Sydney: Hachette, 2011. Brownmiller, Susan. In Our Time: Memoir of a Revolution. New York: The Dial Press, 1999. Compestine, Ying Chang. Revolution Is Not a Dinner Party. New York: Square Fish, 2009. Dalton, David. “Altamont: End of the Sixties, Or Big Mix-Up in the Middle of Nowhere?” Gadfly Nov/Dec 1999. April 2014 ‹http://www.gadflyonline.com/archive/NovDec99/archive-altamont.html›. Dawkins, Richard. The Selfish Gene. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1976. Elbaum, Max. Revolution in the Air: Sixties Radicals Turn to Lenin, Mao and Che. London and New York: Verso, 2002. Ferguson, Marilyn. The Aquarian Conspiracy. Los Angeles: Tarcher Putnam, 1980. Gleick, James. “What Defines a Meme?” Smithsonian Magazine 2011. April 2014 ‹http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/What-Defines-a Meme.html›. Hair, The American Tribal Love Rock Musical. Prod. Michael Butler. Book by Gerome Ragni and James Rado; Lyrics by Gerome Ragni and James Rado; Music by Galt MacDermot; Musical Director: Galt MacDermot. 1968. Han, Suyin. The Crippled Tree. 1965. Reprinted. Chicago: Academy Chicago P, 1985. ---. A Mortal Flower. 1966. Reprinted. Chicago: Academy Chicago P, 1985. ---. Birdless Summer. 1968. Reprinted. Chicago: Academy Chicago P, 1985. ---. The Morning Deluge: Mao TseTung and the Chinese Revolution 1893-1954. Boston: Little Brown, 1972. ---. My House Has Two Doors. New York: Putnam, 1980. Marsh, Victor. The Boy in the Yellow Dress. Melbourne: Clouds of Magellan Press, 2014. ---. “A Touch of Silk: A (Post)modern Faerie Tale.” Griffith Review 42: Once Upon a Time in Oz (Oct. 2013): 159-69. ---. “Bent Kid, Straight World: Life Writing and the Reconfiguration of ‘Queer’.” TEXT: Journal of Writing and Writing Courses 15.1 (April 2011). ‹http://www.textjournal.com.au/april11/marsh.htm›. ---. “The Boy in the Yellow Dress: Re-framing Subjectivity in Narrativisations of the Queer Self.“ Life Writing 4.2 (Oct. 2007): 263-286. Mol, Hans. Identity and the Sacred: A Sketch for a New Social-Scientific Theory of Religion. Oxford: Blackwell, 1976. Monod, Jacques. Chance and Necessity: An Essay on the Natural Philosophy of Modern Biology. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1970. Roszak, Theodore. The Making of a Counter Culture: Reflections on the Technocratic Society and Its Youthful Opposition. New York: Doubleday, 1968. Salingaros, Nikos. Theory of Architecture. Solingen: Umbau-Verlag, 2006. Stancil, E.D., and M.D. Johnson. Frisbee: A Practitioner’s Manual and Definitive Treatise. New York: Workman, 1975 Winnicott, D.W. Through Paediatrics to Psycho-Analysis: Collected Papers. 1958. London: Hogarth Press, 1975. Yúdice, George. “Testimonio and Postmodernism.” Latin American Perspectives 18.3 (1991): 15-31. Zimmerman, Marc. “Testimonio.” The Sage Encyclopedia of Social Science Research Methods. Eds. Michael S. Lewis-Beck, Alan Bryman and Tim Futing Liao. London: Sage Publications, 2003. Zuber-Skerritt, Ortrun, ed. Australian Playwrights: David Williamson. Amsterdam: Rodolpi, 1988.

“And let them have a laugh at their passions, because what they call passion actually is not some emotional energy, but just the friction between their souls and the outside world.” Stalker (dir. Andrei Tarkovsky, 2009) The photograph on the cover of the ‘Enthuse’ issue of M/C Journal was taken at the 2007 Summernats car festival. It captures the complete attention of a crowd of spectators watching the burnout competition. A burnout competition involves cars driven at full throttle for three minutes to spin the wheels, while not allowing the car to move. The tyres become molten and the rubber breaks down, turning into smoke. Drivers are judged according to the spectacular nature of their performance. It is one of the ritualised practices of modified-car culture whereby enthusiasts, mostly males, perform a spectacular motility (mobility potential) afforded by heavily modified vehicles. The burnout competition is a spectacularised test of mechanical endurance. Modified-car culture has many dimensions that cut across familiar scholarly lines of inquiry from subaltern studies to gender studies and from youth subcultures to socio-technical studies. As a complex assemblage of sometimes contradictory tensions and tendencies there is one element of modified-car culture that is shared by all those involved in it: enthusiasm.Enthusiasts of different scenes within the culture organise around their respective enthusiasms. Mechanical workshops and other technical businesses that service these scenes have an appreciation of the enthusiasm for the purposes of sustaining and commodifying it. Governmental authorities have an appreciation of enthusiasm because they attempt to mediate and regulate it. The cultural industry, which includes the magazine industry, memorialises and valorises certain elements of the scene to help incite, distribute and repeat the enthusiasm. Every enthusiast practice that deserves to be described as such is a differential repetition of the core problematic of modified-car culture born of the pre-hot rodding scene in the US during the 1920s and 1930s. Secondary and tertiary markets for automobiles emerged due to the existence, for the first time, of a large supply of second hand and wrecked motor vehicles. The proto-enthusiasts would maintain or even assemble (from what was practically junk in some cases) their own automobiles. These mostly young men were mobilised into action by a congruence of the challenge of mobility, the cultural capital of motility, the socio-technical challenge of the vehicle, and the challenge posed by participation in a new social dynamic precipitated by the forthcoming automobilisation of society. It is this singular multi-dimensional challenge that has been repeated all over the world in different ways by several generations of enthusiasts. When the burnout competition competitors are spinning the wheels of their cars they are spectacularly performing an excess of motility; they have risen to the challenge and the acrid smell of burnt rubber is their satisfaction. All magazine articles that report on the Summernats always feature a number of shots capturing the satisfying mechanical destruction or endurance of the burnout competition. The role of the media is to isolate and capture the specific conditions of enthusiasm that belong to a particular event what could be called the ‘action’ of a scene. To use something of a platitude, enthusiasm is active when ‘rising to a challenge’, but there is a passive dimension of enthusiasm as expressed on the faces of the burnout competition spectators. The cultural industry that services the scene of an enthusiasm has to balance between capturing the conditions of the spectacle’s passive enthusiasm, so enthusiasts buy magazines for example, and the challenge’s active enthusiasm, so enthusiasts reproduce the conditions of the scene that the cultural industry services. The cultural industry distributes and repeats the event of enthusiasm; its power is to modulate the affects of enthusiasm in active and passive inflections. The question of authenticity is something of a mute point when it comes to enthusiasm as Goetz Bachmann and Andreas Wittel suggest in their article, “enthusiasm cannot be faked.” Bachman and Wittel isolate a problem within the cultural industries of how to mediate and integrate different, often competing or contradictory, enthusiasms. The setting for this exploration is an ethnographic and experimental project, conducted in 2003-2007 in London’s creative industries, brought together three industrial and one academic partner to produce a reality TV show. Bachman and Wittel outline how the enthusiasms of both the producer and consumer cohorts of the reality TV show need to be analysed. Their role as project managers, in part, was to “rebuild an enthusiastic spirit after periods of frustration” amongst their creative industry partners. Bachman and Wittel explore the power of enthusiasm and indicate the ways that power is recuperated within the machinations of the ‘creative industries’. Indeed, ‘enthusiasm’ is shorthand for describing the process by which bodies are mobilised into action and the power of the imagination is drawn upon. For modified-car enthusiasts it is the translation of head-scratching socio-technical problems posed by the automobile into challenges. A ‘problem’ and a ‘challenge’ are both open multiplicities; that is, they are both characterised by a processual relationality open to an uncertain future. A ‘problem’ diminishes or even shuts down bodies, but a ‘challenge’ enlarges the respective body’s capacity for action. The solution to a problem may result in a feeling of satisfaction, but it is the challenge that incites enthusiasm within and across mobilised bodies. Bodies are captivated by enthusiasm. Enthusiasms have often been described in metaphors of infection—‘I got the bug,’—and Hilary Geoghegan’s paper engages with the ‘disease’ wrought by ‘sexy concrete.’ In recounting the organisational dynamics that emerged around amateur and professional Industrial Archaeology, her paper also raises question regarding the spatial dimensions of enthusiasm. Similarly, Clementine Hill examines the strong emotional connection to Darwin expressed by those artists and other creative practioners who have ventured or returned to the city. Through extensive empirical work she reflects upon the intensity afforded by Darwin’s relatively unique environmental and geographical character, and how this impacts on creative practice. She uses enthusiasm as a measure to explore her interviewees’ relation to Darwin configured, somewhat atypically, as a ‘creative city’. Enthusiasm can be used as both tool and resource. Beyond the enthusiasms harnessed by the cultural industries, Rebecca Hazleden examines some of the ways in which the discourse of ‘relationship manuals’ enthuses readers through a process of trust-based subjectivisation. Readers are in part captivated by the charismatic advice forwarded by the celebrity authors (familiar to watchers of daytime television). The flipside of enthusiasm as a resource, is to use it as an analytical tool. Meera Atkinson uses enthusiasm as an analytical tool to explore the blondeness of Monroe and Madonna. These figures are born of a femininity that embody differential repetitions of blondeness to present libidinal and social objects of enthusiasm. Last, but not least, are two fascinating papers that emerge from the conditions of enthusiasm within subcultural practices. Kathleen Williams engages with the new media culture around user made film trailers. Users assemble their own trailers for films (both real and imaginary) which problematise the assumed understanding of trailers as mere advertisements for forthcoming films. She argues that these practices “liberate the trailer both from the cinema and the feature film.” Her analysis also involves very interesting questions regarding the temporal character of enthusiasm. If a film ‘trailer’ (or perhaps, in this case, ‘preview’) operates to enthuse an audience into watching a film, what the audience consumes is not so much the film but a kind of participation in the event of the film itself. That is, the event of the film is differentially repeated in studio controlled ways through promotional material as a mechanism for cultivating the enthusiasm of a potential audience. These subcultural fans break with the well established mediated mechanism for audience individuation and work with the mechanism itself. Wilson Koh addresses what could be considered the most Kantian of questions regarding enthusiasm: what is 'our' relation to our 'own' enthusiasms? He explores the complex subcultural community of fans that follow professional wrestling in the US. The fans are largely separated into two groups: the ‘smarts’ that know it is all a performative spectacle and the ‘marks’ that participate in the spectacle with the belief that the wrestling is ‘real’. Koh engages with the way the wrestler-characters and ‘behind-the-scenes’ machinations are represented in different ways for different segments of the fan-base audience. Is an awareness or ‘self knowing’ of the conditions of our respective enthusiasms a way of destroying enthusiasm? Perhaps awareness precipitates another iteration of challenge of enthusiasm?

“I realised some time ago that I am a showgirl. When I perform it is to show the girl, whereas some performers take the approach of caricaturing or ‘burlesquing’ the girl.” (Lola the Vamp) “Perhaps the most surprising idea of contemporary feminism is that women are female impersonators” (Tyler, 1) In recent years, femininity has been the subject of much debate in mainstream culture, as well as in feminist theory. The recent moral panic over “size zero” bodies is only the latest example of the anxieties and tensions generated by a culture in which every part of the female body is subject to endless surveillance and control. The backlash against the women’s movement of the late 20th century has seen the mainstreaming of high femininity on an unprecedented scale. The range of practices now expected of middle-class women, including cosmetic surgery, dieting, fake tanning, manicures, pedicures, and waxing (including pubic waxing) is staggering. Little wonder, then, that femininity has often been imagined as oppressive labour, as work. If women were to attempt to produce the ideal femininities promoted by women’s magazines in the UK, USA and Australia, there would be little time in the day—let alone money—for anything else. The work of femininity hence becomes the work of adapting oneself to a current set of social norms, a work of adaptation and adjustment that must remain invisible. The goal is to look natural while constantly labouring away in private to maintain the façade. Alongside this feminine ideal, a subculture has grown up that also promotes the production of an elaborately feminine identity, but in very different ways. The new burlesque is a subculture that began in club nights in London and New York, has since extended to a network of performers and fans, and has become a highly active community on the Internet as well as in offline cultural spaces. In these spaces, performers and audiences alike reproduce striptease performances, as well as vintage dress and styles. Performers draw on their own knowledge of the history of burlesque to create acts that may invoke late 19th-century vaudeville, the supper clubs of pre-war Germany, or 1950s pinups. However the audience for these performances is as likely to consist of women and gay men as the heterosexual men who comprise the traditional audience for such shows. The striptease star Dita von Teese, with her trademark jet-black hair, pale skin, red lips and tiny 16-inch corseted waist, has become the most visible symbol of the new burlesque community. However, the new burlesque “look” can be seen across a web of media sites: in film, beginning with Moulin Rouge (Baz Luhrmann, 2001), and more recently in The Notorious Bettie Paige (Mary Harron, 2005), as well as in mainstream movies like Mrs Henderson Presents (Stephen Frears, 2005); in novels (such as Louise Welsh’s The Bullet Trick); in popular music, such as the iconography of Kylie Minogue’s Showgirl tour and the stage persona of Alison Goldfrapp; and in high fashion through the work of Vivienne Westwood and Roland Mouret. Since the debut in the late 1990’s of von Teese’s most famous act, in which she dances in a giant martini glass, the new burlesque has arisen in popular culture as a counterpoint to the thin, bronzed, blonde ideal of femininity that has otherwise dominated popular culture in the West. The OED defines burlesque as “a comically exaggerated imitation, especially in a literary or dramatic work; a parody.” In this article, I want to think about the new burlesque in precisely this way: as a parody of feminine identity that, by making visible the work involved in producing feminine identity, precisely resists mainstream notions of feminine beauty. As Lola the Vamp points out in the quotation that opens this article, new burlesque is about “caricaturing or burlesquing the girl”, but also about “showing the girl”, not only in the literal sense of revealing the body at the end of the striptease performance, but in dramatising and making visible an attachment to feminine identity. For members of the new burlesque community, I want to suggest, femininity is experienced as an identity position that is lived as authentic. This makes new burlesque a potentially fruitful site in which to think through the questions of whether femininity can be adapted, and what challenges such adaptations might pose, not only for mainstream culture, but for feminist theory. As I have stated, feminist responses to mainstream femininity have emphasised that femininity is work; that is, that feminine identities do not emerge naturally from certain bodies, but rather have to be made. This is necessary in order to resist the powerful cultural discourses through which gender identities are normalised. This model sees femininity as additive, as something that is superimposed on some mystical “authentic” self which cries out to be liberated from the artificially imposed constraints of high heels, makeup and restrictive clothing. This model of femininity is summed up by Naomi Wolf’s famous statement, in The Beauty Myth, that “femininity is code for femaleness plus whatever society happens to be selling” (Wolf, 177; emphasis added). However, a potential problem with such a view of gender identity is that it tends to reproduce essentialist notions of identity. The focus on femininity as a process through which bodies are adapted to social norms suggests that there is an unmarked self that precedes adaptation. Sabina Sawhney provides a summary and critique of this position: Feminism seems to be relying on the notion that the authentic identity of woman would be revealed once the drag is removed. That is to say, when her various “clothes”—racial, ethnic, hetero/homosexual, class textured—are removed, the real, genuine woman would appear whose identity would pose no puzzles. But surely that is a dangerous assumption, for it not only prioritises certain forms of identity formation over others, but also essentialises a sexual or gendered identity as already known in advance. (5) As Sawhney suggests here, to see femininity only in terms of oppressive labour is implicitly essentialist, since it suggests the existence of a primary, authentic “femaleness”. Femininity consists of consumer “stuff” which is superimposed onto unproblematically female bodies. Sawhney is right, here, to compare femininity to drag: however, female and male femininities are read very differently in this account. Drag and cross-dressing are decried as deliberate (male) parodies of “women” (and it is interesting to note that parodies of femininity are inevitably misread as parodies of women, as though the two were the same). However, those women who engage in feminine identity practices are to be pitied, not blamed, or at least not explicitly. Femininity, the compulsion to adapt oneself to incorporate “whatever society is selling”, is articulated in terms of “social pressure”, as a miserable duty over which women have no control. As Samantha Holland argues, the danger is that women become positioned as “mindless consumers, in thrall to the power of media images” (10). Resisting the adaptations demanded by femininity thus becomes a way of resisting mindlessness, particularly through resisting excessive consumption. This anxiety about female excess is echoed in some of the press coverage of the burlesque scene. For example, an article in the British Sunday paper The Observer takes a sceptical position on some performers’ claims that their work is feminist, wondering whether the “fairy dust of irony really strips burlesque of any political dubiousness” (O’Connell, 4), while an article on a feminist Website argues that the movement “can still be interpreted as a form of exploitation of women’s bodies,” (DiNardo, 1), which rather suggests that it is the purpose of feminism to try and interpret all manifestations of femininity in this way: as if the writer is suggesting that feminism itself were a system for curbing feminine excess. This is not to deny that the new burlesque, like more mainstream forms of femininity, involves work. Indeed, a reading of online burlesque communities suggests that it is precisely the labour of femininity that is a source of pleasure. Many books and Websites associated with this movement offer lessons in stage performance; however, these real and virtual classes are not limited to those who wish to perform. In this subculture, much of the pleasure derives from a sense of community between performer and audience, a sense which derives mainly from the adaptation of a specific retro or vintage feminine identity. Miss Indigo Blue’s Academy offers courses in the more theatrical aspects of burlesque, such as stripping techniques, but also in subjects such as “makeup and wig tricks” and “walking in heels” (Miss Indigo Blue’s Academy of Burlesque). Burlesque, like cross-dressing suggests that femininity needs to be learnt: and learning femininity, in this sense, also involves unlearning whatever “one [usually restrictive] size fits all” forms of femininity are currently being sold by the fashion and beauty industries. In contrast to this normative model, the online accounts of burlesque fans and performers reveal an intense pleasure in creating and adapting new feminine identities within a subculture, through a “DIY” approach to femininity. This insistence on doing it yourself is important, since it is through the process of reclaiming vintage styles of clothing, hair and makeup that real adaptation takes place. Whereas mainstream femininity is positioned as empty consumption, and as a source of anxiety, burlesque is aligned with recycling, thrift shopping and the revival of traditional crafts such as knitting and weaving. This is most visible in magazines and Websites such as Bust magazine. This magazine, which launched in the early 1990s, was an early forerunner of the burlesque revival with its use of visual imagery taken from 1950s women’s magazines alongside pinups of the same era. The Website has been selling Bettie Page merchandise for some time alongside its popular Stitch n’ Bitch knitting books, and also hosts discussions on feminism, craft and “kitsch and make-up” (Bust). In the accounts cited above, femininity is clearly not imagined through an imperative to conform to social norms: instead, the practice of recovering and re-creating vintage looks is constructed as a pleasurable leisure activity that brings with it a sense of achievement and of engagement with a wider community. The appeal of burlesque, therefore, is not limited to a fetishistic preference for the trappings of burlesque or retro femininity: it is also defined by what it is not. Online discussions reveal a sense of dissatisfaction with more culturally visible forms of femininity promoted by celebrity culture and women’s magazines. Particular irritants include the low-maintenance look, skinniness, lip gloss, highlighted and layered hair, fake tan and, perhaps unexpectedly, jeans. These are seen as emblematic of precisely stereotypical and homogenising notions of feminine identity, as one post points out: “Dita VT particularly stands out in this day and age where it seems that the mysterious Blondifier and her evil twin, the Creosoter, get to every female celeb at some point.” (Bust Lounge, posted on Oct 17 2006, 3.32 am) Another reason for the appeal of New Burlesque is that it does not privilege slenderness: as another post says “i think i like that the women have natural bodies in some way” (Bust Lounge, posted on Oct 8 2006, 7:34 pm), and it is clear that the labour associated with this form of femininity consists of adorning the body for display in a way that opposes the dominant model of constructing “natural” beauty through invisible forms of labour. Burlesque performers might therefore be seen as feminist theorists, whose construction of a feminine image against normative forms of femininity dramatises precisely those issues of embodiment and identity that concern feminist theory. This open display and celebration of feminine identity practices, for example, makes visible Elizabeth Grosz’s argument, in Volatile Bodies, that all bodies are inscribed with culture, even when they are naked. A good example of this is the British performer Immodesty Blaize, who has been celebrated in the British press for presenting an ideal of beauty that challenges the cultural predominance of size zero bodies: a press cutting on her Website shows her appearance on the cover of the Sunday Times Style magazine for 23 April 2006, under the heading “More Is More: One Girl’s Sexy Journey as a Size 18” (Immodesty Blaize). However, this is not to suggest that her version of femininity is simply concerned with rejecting practices such as diet and exercise: alongside the press images of Immodesty in ornate stage costumes, there is also an account of the rigorous training her act involves. In other words, the practices involved in constructing this version of femininity entail bringing together accounts of multiple identity practices, often in surprising ways that resist conforming to any single ideal of femininity: while both the athletic body and the sexualised size 18 body may both be seen as sites of resistance to the culturally dominant slender body, it is unusual for one performer’s image to draw on both simultaneously as Blaize does. This dramatisation of the work involved in shaping the body can also be seen in the use of corsets by performers like von Teese, whose extremely tiny waist is a key aspect of her image. Although this may be read on one hand as a performance of conformity to feminine ideals of slimness, the public flaunting of the corset (which is after all a garment originally designed to be concealed beneath clothing) again makes visible the practices and technologies through which femininity is constructed. The DIY approach to femininity is central to the imperative to resist incorporation by mainstream culture. Dita von Teese makes this point in a press interview, in which she stresses the impossibility of working with stylists: “the one time I hired a stylist, they picked up a pair of my 1940’s shoes and said, these would look really cute with jeans. I immediately said, you’re out of here” (West, 10). With its constant dramatisation and adaptation of femininity, then, I would argue that burlesque precisely carries out the work which Grosz says is imperative for feminist theory, of problematising the notion of the body as a “blank, passive page” (156). If some feminist readings of femininity have failed to account for the multiplicity and diversity of feminine identity performances, it is perhaps surprising that this is also true of feminist research that has engaged with queer theory, especially theories of drag. As Carol-Ann Tyler notes, feminist critiques of drag performances have tended to read drag performances as a hostile parody of women themselves (60). I would argue that this view of drag as a parody of women is problematic, in that it reproduces an essentialist model in which women and femininity are one and the same. What I want to suggest is that it is possible to read drag in continuum with other performances, such as burlesque, as an often affectionate parody of femininity; one which allows female as well as male performers to think through the complex and often contradictory pleasures and anxieties that are at stake in performing feminine identities. In practice, some accounts of burlesque do see burlesque as a kind of drag performance, but they reveal that anxiety is not alleviated but heightened when the drag performer is biologically female. While drag is performed by male bodies, and hence potentially from a position of power, a female performer is held to be both complicit with patriarchal power, and herself powerless: the performance thus emanates from a doubly powerless position. Because femininity is imagined as a property of “women”, to parody femininity is to parody oneself and is hence open to being read as a performance of self-hatred. At best, the performer is herself held to occupy a position of middle class privilege, and hence to have access to what O’Connell, in the Observer article, calls “the fairy dust of irony” (4). For O’Connell however the performer uses this privilege to celebrate a normative, “politically dubious” form of femininity. In this reading, which positions itself as feminist, any potential for irony is lost, and burlesque is seen as unproblematically reproducing an oppressive model of feminine identities and roles. The Websites I have cited are aware of the potential power of burlesque as parody, but as a parody of femininity which attempts to work with the tensions inherent in feminine identity: its pleasures as well as its constraints and absurdities. Such a thinking-through of femininity is not the sole preserve of the male drag performer. Indeed, my current research on drag is engaged with the work of self-proclaimed female drag queens, also known as “bio queens” or “faux queens”: recently, Ana Matronic of the Scissor Sisters has spoken of her early experiences as a performer in a San Francisco drag show, where there is an annual faux-queen beauty pageant (Barber, 1). I would argue that there is a continuity between these performers and participants in the burlesque scene who may be conflicted about their relationship to “feminism” but are highly aware of the possibilities offered by this sense of parody, which is often articulated through an invocation of queer politics. Queer politics is often explicitly on the agenda in burlesque performance spaces; however the term “queer” is used not only to refer to performances that take place in queer spaces or for a lesbian audience, but to the more general way in which the very idea of women parodying femininity works to queer both feminist and popular notions of femininity that equate it with passivity, with false consciousness. While burlesque does celebrate extreme femininities, it does so in a highly self-aware and parodic manner which works to critique and denaturalise more normalised forms of femininity. It does so partly by engaging with a queer agenda (for example Miss Indigo’s Academy of Burlesque hosts lectures on queer politics and feminism alongside makeup classes and stripping lessons). New Burlesque stage performers use 19th- and 20th-century ideals of femininity to parody contemporary feminine ideals, and this satirical element is carried through in the audience and in the wider community. In burlesque, femininity is reclaimed as an identity precisely through aligning an excessive form of femininity with feminism and queer theory. This model of burlesque as queer parody of femininity draws out the connections as well as the discontinuities between male and female “alternative” femininities, a potentially powerful connectivity that is suggested by Judith Butler’s work and that disrupts the notion that femininity is always imposed on women through consumer culture. It is possible, then, to open up Butler’s writing on drag in order to make explicit this continuity between male and female parodies of femininity. Writing of the need to distinguish between truly subversive parody, and that which is likely to be incorporated, Butler explains: Parody by itself is not subversive, and there must be a way to understand what makes certain kinds of parodic repetitions effectively disruptive, truly troubling, and which repetitions become domesticated and recirculated as instruments of cultural hegemony (Gender Trouble, 177). The problem with this is that femininity, as performed by biologically female subjects, is still positioned as other, as that which presents itself as natural, but is destabilised by more subversive gender performances, such as male drag, that reveal it as performative. The moment of judgment, when we as queer theorists decide which performances are truly subversive and which are not, is divisive: having drawn out the continuity between male and female performances of femininity, it reinstates the dualistic order in which women are positioned as lacking agency. If a practice is ultimately incorporated by consumer culture, this does not necessarily mean that it is not troubling or politically interesting. Such a reductive and pessimistic reading produces “the popular” as a bad object in a way that reproduces precisely the hegemonic discourse it is trying to disrupt. In this model, very few practices, including drag, could be held to be subversive at all. What is missing from Butler’s account is an awareness of the complex and multiple forms of pleasure and desire that characterise women’s attachment to feminine identities. I would argue that she opens up a potentially exhilarating possibility that has significant implications for feminist understandings of feminine identity in that it allows for an understanding of the ways in which female performers actively construct, rework and critique feminine identity, but that this possibility is closed down through the implication that only male drag performances are “truly troubling” (Gender Trouble, 177). By allowing female performers to ”parody the girl”, I am suggesting that burlesque potentially allows for an understanding in which female performances of femininity may, like drag, also be “truly troubling” (Butler, Gender Trouble, 177). Like drag, they require the audience both to reflect on the ways in which femininity is performatively constructed within the constraints of a normative, gendered culture, but also do justice to the extent to which feminine identity may be experienced as a source of pleasure. Striptease, in which feminine identity is constructed precisely through painstakingly creating a look whose layers are then stripped away in a stylised performance of feminine gesture, powerfully dramatises the historic tension between feminism and femininity. Indeed, the labour involved in burlesque performances can be adapted and adopted as feminist theoretical performances that speak back to hegemonic ideals of beauty, to feminism, and to queer theory. References Barber, Lynn. “Life’s a Drag”. The Guardian 26 Nov. 2006, 10. Bust Lounge. 8 Mar. 2007 http://www.bust.com/>. Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. London and New York: Routledge, 1990. ———. Undoing Gender. London and New York: Routledge, 2004 DiNardo, Kelly. “Burlesque Comeback Tries to Dance with Feminism.” Women’s E-News 2004. 1 Mar. 2007 http://www.womensenews.org/article.cfm/dyn/aid/2099>. Dita von Teese. 8 Mar. 2007 http://www.dita.net>. Grosz, Elizabeth. Volatile Bodies: Towards a New Corporeal Feminism. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1994. Holland, Samantha. Alternative Femininities. London: Berg, 2004. Immodesty Blaize. 10 Apr. 2007 http://www.immodestyblaize.com/collage2.html>. Lola the Vamp. 8 Mar. 2006 http://www.lolathevamp.net>. Miss Indigo Blue’s Academy of Burlesque. 8 Mar. 2007 http://www.academyofburlesque.com>. O’Connell, Dee. “Tassels Will Be Worn.” The Observer 28 Sep. 2003, 4. Sawhney, Sabina. “Feminism and Hybridity Round Table.” Surfaces 7 (2006): 113. Tyler, Carol Ann. Female Impersonation. London and New York: Routledge, 2003. West, Naomi. “Art of the Teese.” Daily Telegraph online edition 6 Mar. 2006: 10. 1 Mar. 2007 http://www.telegraph.co.uk/fashion/main.jhtml?xml=/fashion/2006/03/06/efdita04.xml>. Wolf, Naomi. The Beauty Myth. London: Chatto and Windus, 1990. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Ferreday, Debra. "Adapting Femininities: The New Burlesque." M/C Journal 10.2 (2007). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0705/12-ferreday.php>. APA Style Ferreday, D. (May 2007) "Adapting Femininities: The New Burlesque," M/C Journal, 10(2). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0705/12-ferreday.php>.

"Interactivity implies two agencies in conversation, playfully and spontaneously developing a mutual discourse" -- Sandy Stone (11) I. On Interactivity The difference between interactivity as it is performed across the page and the screen, maintains Sandy Stone, is that virtual texts and virtual communities can embody a play ethic (14). Inserted like a mutation into the corporate genome, play ruptures the encyclopaedic desire to follow seamless links to a buried 'meaning' and draws us back to the surface, back into real-time conversation with the machine. Hypertext theorists see this as a tactic of resistance to homogenisation. As we move across a hypertextual reading space, we produce the text in this unfolding now, choosing pathways which form a map in the space of our own memories: where we have been, where we are, where we might yet be. Play is occupying oneself with diversions. II. Space, Time and Composition Reading in time, we create the text in the space of our own memories. Hypertext theorists maintain that the choices we make around every corner, the spontaneity and contingency involved in these choices, are the bringing into being of a (constantly replaced) electronic palimpsest, a virtual geography. The dislocation which occurs as we engage in nodal leaps draws us back to the surface, rupturing our experience of the narrative and bringing us into a blissful experience of possibility. III. War against the Line There is the danger, on the one hand, of being subsumed by the passive subject position demanded by infotainment culture and the desire it encourages to seek the satisfaction of closure by following seamless links to a buried 'meaning'. On the other hand, we risk losing efficiency and control over the unfolding interaction by entering into an exchange which disorientates us with infinite potential. We cannot wildly destratify. The questions we ask must seek to keep the conversation open. In order to establish a new discursive territory within which to understand this relationship, we should view the interface not simply as a transparency which enables interaction with the machine as 'other', but as a text, a finely-wrought behavioural map which "exists at the intersection of political and ideological boundary lands" (Selfe & Selfe 1). As we write, so are we written by the linguistic contact zones of this terrain. Hypertext is thus a process involving the active translation of modes of being into possible becomings across the interface. The geographic 'space' we translate into a hypertext "is imaginational... . We momentarily extend the linear reading act into a third dimension when we travel a link" (Tolva 4). A literal spatial representation would break from the realm of hypertext and become a virtual reality. Thus, the geographic aspect is not inherent to the system itself but is partially translated into the geometry of the medium via our experience and perception (the 'map'), a process describing our 'line of flight' as we evolve in space. Directional flows between time and its traditional subordination to space in representation implode across the present-tense of the screen and time literally surfaces. Our experience of the constantly-replaced electronic palimpsest is one of temporal surrender: "we give in to time, we give way to time, we give in with time"(Joyce 219). In other words, the subject of hypertext subverts the traditional hierarchy and writes for space, producing the 'terrain' in the unfolding now in the Deleuzian sense, not in space as desired by the State. Johnson-Eilola aligns the experience of hypertext with the Deleuzian War Machine, a way of describing the speed and range of virtual movement created when the animal body splices into the realm of technology and opens an active plane of conflict.. The War Machine was invented by the nomads -- it operates by continual deterritorialisation in a tension-limit with State science, what we might call the command-control drive associated with geometric, dynamic thought and the sedentary culture of the Line. It "exemplifies" the avant-garde mentality that hypertext theorists have been associating with the electronic writing space (Moulthrop, "No War Machine" 1). Playing outside. The State desires an end to the resistance to totalisation promulgated by contingent thought and its thermodynamic relationship to space: the speed which assumes a probabilistic, vortical motion, actually drawing smooth space itself. The war machine is thus an open system opposed to classical mechanics via its grounding in active contingencies and spatio-temporal production. The nomad reads and writes for space, creating the temporal text in the space of her own memory, giving way to time and allowing existent points to lapse before the trajectory of flight. Nomad thought is not dependent on any given theory of relationship with the medium, but works via disruption and (re)distribution, the gaps, stutterings and gasp-like expressions experienced when we enter into conversation with the hypertext. The danger is that the war machine might be appropriated by the State, at which point this light-speed communication becomes of the utmost importance in the war against space and time. As speed and efficient retrieval replace real-space across the instantaneity and immediacy of the terminal, the present-time sensory faculties of the individual are marginalised as incidental and she becomes "the virtual equivalent of the well-equipped invalid" (Virilio 5). In other words, as the frame of real-space and present-time disappears, the text of the reader/writer becomes "sutured" into the discourse of the State, the only goal to gain "complete speed, to cover territory in order for the State to subdivide and hold it through force, legislation or consent" (Virilio, qtd. in Johnson-Eilola). This is when the predetermined geometry of hypertext becomes explicit. The progressive subsumption (or "suturing") of the multiple, nomadic self into the discourse of the computer occurs when "the terms of the narrative are heightened, as each 'node' in the hypertext points outwards to other nodes [and] readers must compulsively follow links to arrive at the 'promised plenitude' at the other end of the link" (Johnson-Eilola 391). When we no longer reflect on the frame and move towards complete speed and efficiency, when we stop playing on the surface and no longer concern ourselves with diversion, the war machine has been appropriated by the State. In this case, there is no revolutionary 'outside' to confront in interaction, as all has been marshalled towards closure. Keeping the conversation open means continuously reflecting on the frame. We cannot wildly destratify and lose control entirely by moving in perpetual bewilderment, but we can see the incompleteness of the story, recognising the importance of local gaps and spaces. We can work with the idea that the "dyad of smooth/striated represents not a dialectic but a continuum" (Moulthrop, "Rhizome" 317) that can be turned more complex in its course. Contingency and play reside in the intermezzo, the "dangerous edges, fleeting, attempting to write across the boundaries between in-control and out-of-control" (Johnson-Eilola 393). The war machine exists as at once process and product, the translation between smooth-striated moving in potentia: the nomadic consciousness can recognise this process and live flux as reality itself, or consistency. In sum, we avoid subsumption and appropriation by holding open the function of the text as process in our theorising, in our teaching, in our reading and writing across the hypertextual environment. We can either view hypertext as a tool or product which lends itself to efficient, functional use (to organise information, to control and consume in an encyclopaedic fashion), or we can view it as a process which lends itself to nomadic thought and resistance to totalisation in syncopated flows, in cybernetic fits and starts. This is our much-needed rhetoric of activity. IV. An Alternative Story No matter their theoretical articulation, such claims made for hypertext are fundamentally concerned with escaping the logocentric geometry of regulated time and space. Recent explorations deploying the Deleuzian smooth/striated continuum make explicit the fact that the enemy in this literary 'war' has never been the Line or linearity per se, but "the nonlinear perspective of geometry; not the prison-house of time but the fiction of transcendence implied by the indifferent epistemological stance toward time" (Rosenberg 276). Although the rhizome, the war machine, the cyborg and the nomad differ in their particularities and composition, they all explicitly play on the dislocated, time-irreversible processes of chaos theory, thermodynamics and associated 'liberatory' topological perspectives. Rosenberg's essay makes what I consider to be a very disruptive point: hypertext merely simulates the 'smooth', contingent thought seen to be antithetical to regulated space-time and precise causality due to its fundamental investment in a regulated, controlled and (pre)determined geometry. Such a deceptively smooth landscape is technonarcissistic in that its apparent multiplicity actually prescribes to a totality of command-control. Hypertext theorists have borrowed the terms 'multilinear', 'nonlinear' and 'contingency' from physics to articulate hypertext's resistance to the dominant determinist episteme, a framework exemplified by the term 'dynamics', opposing it to "the irreversible laws characteristic of statistical approximations that govern complex events, exemplified by the term, 'thermodynamics'" (Rosenberg 269). This resistance to the time-reversible, non-contingent and totalised worldview has its ideological origins in the work of the avant-garde. Hypertext theorists are fixated with quasi-hypertextual works that were precursors to the more 'explicitly' revolutionary texts in the electronic writing space. In the works of the avant-garde, contingency is associated with creative freedom and subversive, organic logic. It is obsessively celebrated by the likes of Pynchon, Joyce, Duchamp and Cage. Hypertext theorists have reasoned from this that 'nonlinear' or 'multilinear' access to information is isomorphic with such playful freedom and its contingent, associative leaps. Theorists align this nonsequential reasoning with a certain rogue logic: the 'fluid nature of thought itself' exemplified by the explicitly geographic relationship to space-time of the Deleuzian rhizome and the notion of contingent, probabilistic 'becomings'. Hypertext participates fully in the spatio-temporal dialectic of the avant-garde. As Moulthrop observes, the problem with this is that from a topological perspective, 'linear' and 'multilinear' are identical: "lines are still lines, logos and not nomos, even when they are embedded in a hypertextual matrix" ("Rhizome" 310). The spatio-temporal dislocations which enable contingent thought and 'subversive' logic are simply not sustained through the reading/writing experience. Hypertextual links are not only reversible in time and space, but trace a detached path through functional code, each new node comprising a carefully articulated behavioural 'grammar' that the reader adjusts to. To assume that by following 'links' and engaging in disruptive nodal leaps a reader night be resisting the framework of regulated space-time and determinism is "to ignore how, once the dislocation occurs, a normalcy emerges ... as the hypertext reader acclimates to the new geometry or new sequence of lexias" (Rosenberg 283). Moreover, the searchpath maps which earlier theorists had sensed were antithetical to smooth space actually exemplify the element of transcendent control readers have over the text as a whole. "A reader who can freeze the text, a reader who is aware of a Home button, a reader who can gain an instant, transcendent perspective of the reading experience, domesticates contingencies" (Rosenberg 275). The visual and behavioural grammar of hypertext is one of transcendent control and determined response. Lines are still lines -- regulated, causal and not contingent -- even when they are 'constructed' by an empowered reader. Hypertext is thus invested (at least in part) in a framework of regularity, control and precise function. It is inextricably a part of State apparatus. The problem with this is that the War Machine, which best exemplifies the avant-garde's insurgency against sedentary culture, must be exterior to the State apparatus and its regulated grid at all times. "If we acknowledge this line of critique (which I think we must), then we must seriously reconsider any claims about hypertext fiction as War Machine, or indeed as anything en avant" (Moulthrop, "No War Machine" 5). Although hypertext is not revolutionary, it would be the goal of any avant-garde use of hypertext to find a way to sustain the experience of dislocation that would indicate liberation from the hegemony of geometry. I would like to begin to sketch the possibility of 'contingent interaction' through the dislocations inherent to alternative interfaces later in this story. For the time being, however, we must reassess all our liberation claims. If linearity and multilinearity are identical in terms of geometric relations to space-time, "why should they be any different in terms of ideology", asks Moulthrop ("Rhizome" 310). V. On Interactivity Given Rosenberg's critique against any inherently revolutionary qualities, we must acknowledge that hypermedia "marks not a terminus but a transition," Moulthrop writes ("Rhizome" 317). As a medium of exchange it is neither smooth nor striated, sophist nor socratic, 'work' nor 'text': it is undergoing an increasingly complex phase transition between such states. This landscape also gives rise to stray flows and intensities, 'Unspecified Enemies' which exist at the dangerous fissures and edges. We must accept that we will never escape the system, but we are presented with opportunities to rock the sedentary order from within. As a group of emerging electronic artists see it, the dis-articulation of the point'n'click interface is where interaction becomes reflection on the frame in fits and starts. "We believe that the computer, like everything else, is composed in conflict," explain the editors of electronic magazine I/O/D. "If we are locked in with the military and with Disney, they are locked in not just with us, but with every other stray will-to-power" (Fuller, Interview 2). Along with Adelaide-based group Mindflux, these artists produce hypertext interfaces that involve sensory apparatus and navigational skills that have been marginalised as incidental in the disabling interactive technologies of mainstream multimedia. Sound, movement, proprioception, an element of randomness and assorted other sensory circuits become central to the navigational experience. By enlisting marginalised senses, "we are not proposing to formulate a new paradigm of multimedial correctness," stresses Fuller, "but simply exploring the possibility of more complicated feedback arrangements between the user and the machine" (Fuller, qtd. in Barnet 48). The reader must encounter the 'lexias' contained in the system via the stray flows, intensities, movements, stratas and organs that are not proper to the system but shift across the interface and the surface of her body. In Fuller's electronic magazine, the reader is called upon to converse with the technology outside of the domesticated circuits of sight, dislocating the rigorous hierarchy of feedback devices which privilege the sight-machine and disable contingent interaction in a technonarcissistic fashion. The written information is mapped across a 'fuzzy' sound-based interface, sensitive at every moment to the smallest movements of the reader's fingers on the keys and mouse: the screen itself is black, its swarm of links and hotspots dead to the eye. The reader's movements produce different bleeps and beats, each new track opening different entrances and exits through the information in dependence upon the fluctuating pitch and tempo of her music. Without the aid of searchpaths and bright links, she must move in a state of perpetual readjustment to the technology, attuned not to the information stored behind the interface, but to the real-time sounds her movements produce. What we are calling play, Fuller explains, "is the difference between something that has a fixed grammar on the one hand and something that is continually and openly inventing its own logic on the other" (Fuller & Pope 4). The electronic writing space is not inherently liberatory, and the perpetual process of playing with process across the interface works to widen the 'fissures across the imperium' only for a moment. According to Fuller and Joyce, the 'process of playing with process' simply means complicating the feedback arrangements between the user's body and the machine. "We need to find a way of reading sensually ... rather than, as the interactive artist Graham Weinbren puts it, descending 'into the pit of so-called multimedia, with its scenes of unpleasant 'hotspots,' and 'menus' [that] leaves no room for the possibility of a loss of self, of desire in relation to the unfolding'" remarks Joyce (11). Interactivity which calls upon a mind folded everywhere within the body dislocates the encyclopaedic organisation of data that "preserves a point of privilege from where the eye can frame objects" by enlisting itinerant, diffuse desires in an extended period of readjustment to technology (Fuller & Pope 3). There are no pre-ordained or privileged feedback circuits as the body is seen to comprise a myriad possible elements or fragments of a desiring-machine with the potential to disrupt the flow, to proliferate. Mainstream multimedia's desire for 'informational hygiene' would have us transcend this embodied flux and bureaucratise the body into organs. Information is fed through the circuits of sight in a Pavlovian field of buttons and bright links: interactivity is misconceived as choice-making, when 'response' is a more appropriate concept. When the diffuse desire which thrives on disruption and alternative paradigms is written out in favour of informational hygiene, speed and efficient retrieval replace embodied conversation. "Disembodied [interaction] of this kind is always a con... . The entropic, troublesome flesh that is sloughed off in these fantasies of strongly male essentialism is interwoven with the dynamics of self-processing cognition and intentionality. We see computers as embodied culture, hardwired epistemology" (Fuller 2). Avant-garde hypertext deepens the subjective experience of the human-computer interface: it inscribes itself across the diffuse, disruptive desires of the flesh. Alternative interfaces are not an ideological overhaul enabled by the realm of technê, but a space for localised break-outs across the body. Bifurcations are enacted on the micro level by desiring-machines, across an interface which seeks to dislocate intentionality in conjunction with the marginalised sensory apparatus of the reader, drawing other minds, other organs into localised conversation with command-control. "The user learns kinesthetically and proprioceptively that the boundaries of self are defined less by the skin than by the [local] feedback loops connecting body and simulation in a techno-bio-integrated circuit" (Hayles 72). She oscillates between communication and control, play and restraint: not a nomad but a "human Deserter assuming the most diverse forms" (ATP, 422). VI. Desire Working from across the territory we have covered, we might say that electronic interaction 'liberates' us from neither the Line nor the flesh: at its most experimental, it is nothing less than reading embodied. References Barnet, Belinda. "Storming the Interface: Mindvirus, I/O/D and Deceptive Interaction." Artlink: Australian Contemporary Art Quarterly 17:4 (1997). Deleuze, Gilles, and Felix Guattari. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism & Schizophrenia. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1987. Fuller, Matt and Simon Pope. "Warning: This Computer Has Multiple Personality Disorder." 1993. 11 Dec. 1998 <http://www.altx.com/wordbombs/popefuller.php>. ---, eds. I/O/D2. Undated. 11 Dec. 1998 <http://www.pHreak.co.uk/i_o_d/>. Hayles, Katherine N. "Virtual Bodies and Flickering Signifiers" October Magazine 66 (Fall 1993): 69-91. Johnson-Eilola, Johndan. "Control and the Cyborg: Writing and Being Written in Hypertext." Journal of Advanced Composition 13:2 (1993): 381-99. Joyce, Michael. Of Two Minds: Hypertext, Pedagogy and Poetics. Ann Arbor: U of Michigan P, 1995. Moulthrop, Stuart. "No War Machine." 1997. 11 Dec. 1998 <http://raven.ubalt.edu/staff/moulthrop/essays/war_machine.php>. ---. "Rhizome and Resistance: Hypertext and the Dreams of a New Culture." Hyper/Text/Theory. Ed. George P. Landow. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1994. 299-319. Rosenberg, Martin E. "Physics and Hypertext: Liberation and Complicity in Art and Pedagogy." Hyper/Text/Theory. Ed. George Landow. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1994. 268-298. Selfe, Cynthia L., and Richard J. Selfe. "The Politics of the Interface: Power and Its Exercise in Electronic Contact Zones." College Composition and Communication 45.4: 480-504. Stone, Allucquére Roseanne. The War of Desire and Technology. London: MIT Press, 1996. Tolva, John. "Ut Pictura Hyperpoesis: Spatial Form, Visuality, and the Digital Word." 1993. 11 Dec. 1998 <http://www.cs.unc.edu/~barman/HT96/P43/pictura.htm>. Virilio, Paul. "The Third Interval: A Critical Transition." Rethinking Technologies. Ed. Verena Conley. London: U of Minnesota P, 1993. 3-12. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Belinda Barnet. "In the Garden of Forking Paths: Contingency, Interactivity and Play in Hypertext." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 1.5 (1998). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9812/garden.php>. Chicago style: Belinda Barnet, "In the Garden of Forking Paths: Contingency, Interactivity and Play in Hypertext," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 1, no. 5 (1998), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9812/garden.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Belinda Barnet. (1998) In the garden of forking paths: contingency, interactivity and play in hypertext. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 1(5). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9812/garden.php> ([your date of access]).

Representation of Aboriginality in National Geographic In trafficking images of cultural difference, National Geographic has an unrivalled worldwide reach to over 37 million people per issue. Over the past 25 years, 48 photographs of Aboriginal Australians have appeared in 11 articles in the magazine. This article first examines how the magazine has exoticised, naturalised and sexualised Aboriginal Australians. By deploying the standard evolutionary model, National Geographic typically represents Aboriginal Australians as Black savages relegated to the Stone Age. In the remote outback "Arnhem Land Aboriginals Cling to the Dreamtime" (Scollay & Tweedie 645). In "Journey into Dreamtime" (Arden & Abell 8) an Aboriginal man is "triumphant with his kill of a wild turkey [and] leads a small group of Aborigines who have returned to some of the old ways of their nomadic ancestors in the Great Sandy Desert". The article concludes that the Stone Age encounter with modernity depicted in the magazine became a journey through time from location past to location present. Exoticisation The world of the Aboriginal Australians is male through the eyes of National Geographic. This stems from the Western cultural pattern that assigns things masculine to the cultural and things feminine to the natural realm (Ortner). The male Aboriginal performer of an initiation ritual in "Leapingin tribute" (Scollay & Tweedie 656-7) is represented as rooted in tradition and living in a sacred yet superstitious world. Portraits abound of men with painted faces, as in "Surging energy" (Scollay & Tweedie 648). Male finery and self-display become salient markers, Aboriginal "Boys summon courage" in male initiation focussing on bloodletting (Scollay & Tweedie 656). Such images convey the impression that the region is one of nature, taboo, danger and adventure and that it is a land out of time. The enchantment with ritual stems from it being a key to the past and indicative of photographer and writer having travelled through space to travel through time, similar to the connection made by Victorian evolutionary anthropologists last century (see Fabian). Naturalisation The naturalised Aboriginal Australians appearing in National Geographic are characterised by having timeless societies and personalities, what Wolf identifies as people without history. Routine location narratives naturalise Aboriginal Australians through their remote landscapes and seascapes ("blazing bushfire", Scollay & Tweedie 652-3; "conjuring an image as old as his ancestors", "scorched in one season, sodden in the next" Newman & Abell 3-9). In the West the cultural appropriation of nature is the object of labour, whereas for Aboriginal Australians it is the subject of labour. Aboriginal men are hunters ("triumphant with his kill", Arden & Abell 9; "the earth and sea of their own accord furnish them with all the things necessary for life", Newman & Abell 14-5). Thus, in National Geographic the productive world of work further naturalises the Aboriginal 'Other'. Sexualisation Naked Black women provide the hallmark National Geographic imagery of the sexualized 'Other'. By purveying the nude Aboriginal female, the magazine develops Western ideas about race, gender and sexuality, subcategorised in each case as black, female and unrepressed (Lutz & Collins 115). Women are white, men are Black and Black women are invisible in popular visual representations of motherhood in Western culture. In trafficking in photographs of Black women for an overwhelmingly white readership, National Geographic is clearly linking narrative threads of gender and race (Lutz & Collins166). As the readers' gaze focusses on the Aboriginal child they become the site for dealing with racial anxieties through creating the Black love object ("an appetite for learning", Scollay & Tweedie 654; "mud mates", Ellis & Austen 8-9). National Geographic's nickname for mother-child photos is 'tits and tots' (Meltzer) and they are a romantic staple in the magazine. Aboriginal mothering in "marriages of diplomacy" is idealised as the foundation of human social life (Scollay & Tweedie 650-1). However, with "seven of Johnny Bungawuy's 11 wives and a handful of his 52 children" this marriage is exotic enough to make cultural difference an issue because it depicts the unusually large number of plural marriage partners available to Aboriginal men in their practice of polygyny. The attribution of erotic qualities and sexual license to Aboriginal women is a result of displaying their bodies for close examination. The naked Aboriginal women in "marriages of diplomacy" represent the nude stylised as ethnographic fact (Scollay & Tweedie 650-1). The addition of a woman in the "marriages of diplomacy" photograph commoditises the practice of polygyny and illustrates that women have traditionally been seen as objects to be possessed, owned and adornments to the lives of men (Pollack). Location Past to Location Present Idealisation of the Aboriginal 'Other' allows for detemporalisation to be played out in alluring images of a simpler, natural Aboriginal world only now tentatively facing the throes of modernisation. Social Darwinism counterpoises superstition/ritual with science/technology and darker skin/exotic clothes with lighter skin/Western clothes. The Aboriginal guide bearing a "striking resemblance to his counterpart on the Burke-Wills journey" facilitates a form of ancestor worship that relates to what Rosaldo calls imperialist nostalgia for the passing of what we ourselves have destroyed (Judge & Scherschel 165). Photographs of the Aboriginal Australians are organised into a story about cultural evolution couched in normative discourse of modernisation and development as progress. In photographs contrasting the premodern with the modern the commodity stands for the future: "soda, soap, and spears in the arms of an [Aboriginal] father and daughter demonstrate their coexistence with white society" (Scollay & Tweedie 662). While for the Aboriginal father in "keeping faith with past and future" his "son enters an era that will inevitably propel his people into modern society" (MacLeish & Nebbia 171). Commodities in these contrasting representations are to be seen simply as a stage on the way to Westernisation. Dynamism, change and agency are apportioned to the Western centre, while Aboriginal Australians are just responding to the onslaught of modernisation on the periphery. Aboriginal masculinisation of modernity is situated in a series of photographs depicting the expansive frontier outback where Aboriginal stockmen are content to muster the cattle of white station owners. In "boiling the red dust" the Aboriginal stockman strums his guitar but sometimes "lapses into tradition and roams on walkabout" (Walker & Scherschel 457). Another Aboriginal stockman, in "saga of beef or bust", "uses his tracking ability to run down strays and cleanskins -- unbranded beasts" (MacLeish & Nebbia 161). "Other than his boots and a jug of water all he owns is rolled into the swag", the Aboriginal stockman must compete with the modern helicopter ("pesky as a giant fly", MacLeish & Stanfield 165); alternatively, "with a wager on the line, an Aboriginal stockman whoops it up at the annual Bedourie Race Meeting" (Ellis & Austen 3). The idealised image is one of the rugged yet happy lives of the Aboriginal stockman in transition to modernity. Social evolutionary theory "saw women in non-Western societies as oppressed and servile creatures, beasts of burden, chattels who could be bought and sold, eventually to be liberated by 'civilisation' or 'progress', thus attaining the enviable position of women in Western society" (Etienne & Leacock 1). Aboriginal feminisation of modernity is told through stories about the premodern helpmate to husband work of Aboriginal women. "Sharing a 'cuppa' at the start of their day" is gendered with vulnerability, primitivity, superstition and the constraints of tradition (Newman & Abell 24-5). The ambivalent message represented in "sharing a 'cuppa' at the start of their day" is complicated by the Aboriginal woman's stockman partner being white. Western ideological understanding of women's work has changed since WWII from helpmate to husband to self-realisation and independence (Chafe). However, images of Aboriginal women in modern work are conspicuously absent. Dispossessed Aboriginal prospectors earn money by 'yandying' ("Paddy Blair's no Irishman", MacLeish & Stanfield 166) -- "winnowing by tossing handfuls of ore into the wind to separate dirt from tin or gold" and 'noodling' -- "poking through rubble" ("selling water and renting bulldozers", Moore & Tweedie 569). Abject "down-and-outs addicted to cheap, poisonous wood alcohol" end up as dispossessed fringe-dwelling 'goomies' in Redfern ("matron saint", Starbird & Madden 224-5). Resistance through situationally motivated undertaking by Indigenous people against expropriation of land and resources is rarely represented in the media (see Drinnon), and National Geographic first attempts such a representation in the 1980s with "heads of several clans" (Scollay & Tweedie 653). Aboriginal men attempt to block a government mining survey crew. But the six Aboriginal men gaze off in different directions and only one is clearly focussed on something in the frame, thus the assembled men assume a disconnected, uncoordinated look. In the 1990s National Geographic story "The Uneasy Magic of Australia's Cape York Peninsula", Aboriginality is equated with caring for the land (Newman & Abell). Aboriginal peoples of Cape York Peninsula are portrayed as conservators valuable for their preservation of biocultural diversity ("the richlytextured landscape", Newman & Abell 17). Aboriginal "white sand people" of Cape York Peninsula are "on a sacred mission" when they "return an ancestor's skull to their homeland at Shelbourne Bay (Newman & Abell 32-3). After years of frustrated efforts to win back their lost domain, the peninsula's native people are at last gaining ground". Aboriginal Australian uses of land and resources are idealised as non-destructive and caring in contrast to rapacious postcolonial development aggression. National Geographic images of Aboriginal Australians have moved from the exoticised, naturalised and sexualised location past. Images in the location present of Cape York mirror the postcolonial transition from Aboriginal dispossession informed by terra nullius to their contemporary empowerment informed by native title. References Arden, H., and S. Abell. "Journey into Dreamtime: The Land of Northwest Australia." National Geographic 179 (Jan. 1991): 8-42. Chafe, W. "Social Change and the American Woman, 1940-70". A History of Our Time: Readings on Postwar America. Eds. W. Chafe and H. Sitkoff. New York: Oxford UP, 1983. 157-65. Drinnon, R. Facing West: The Metaphysics of Indian Hating and Empire Building. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1980. Ellis, W., and D. Austen. "Queensland: Broad Shoulder of Australia." National Geographic 169 (Jan. 1986): 2-39. Etienne, M. and E. Leacock, eds. Women and Colonisation: Anthropological Perspectives. New York: Praeger, 1980. Fabian, J. Time and the Other: How Anthropology Makes Its Object. New York: Columbia UP, 1983. Judge, J., and J. Scherschel. "The Journey of Burke and Wills: First across Australia." National Geographic Feb. (1979): 52-91. Lutz, C., and J. Collins. Reading National Geographic. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1993. MacLeish, K., and T. Nebbia. "The Top End Down Under." National Geographic Feb. (1993): 143-73. MacLeish, K. and J. Stanfield. "Western Australia: The Big Country." National Geographic Feb. (1975): 147-87. Meltzer, M. Dorothea Lange: A Photographer's Life. NewYork: Farrar Straus Giroux, 1978. Moore, K., and P. Tweedie. "Coober Pedy: Opal Capital of Australia's Outback." National Geographic Oct. (1976): 560-71. Newman, C., and S. Abell. "The Uneasy Magic of Australia's Cape York Peninsula." National Geographic June (1996 ): 2-33. Ortner, S. "Is Female to Male as Nature Is to Culture?" Woman, Culture, and Society. Eds. M. Rosaldo and L. Lamphere. Stanford: Stanford UP, 1974. 67-88. Pollack, G. "What's Wrong with Images of Women?" Looking On: Images of Femininity in the Visual Arts and the Media. Ed. R. Betterton. London: Pandora, 1987. 40-8. Rosaldo, R. Culture and Truth. Boston: Beacon P, 1989. Scollay, C., and P. Tweedie. "Arnhem Land Aboriginals Cling to the Dreamtime." National Geographic Nov. (1980): 645-61. Starbird, E., and R. Madden. "Sydney: Big, Breezy, and a Bloomin' Good Show." National Geographic Feb. (1979): 211-36. Walker, H., and J. Scherschel. "South Australia, Gateway to the Great Outback." National Geographic April (1970): 441-81. Wolf, E. Europe and the People without History.Berkeley: U of California P, 1982. Citation reference for this article MLA style: David Hyndman. "Postcolonial Representation of Aboriginal Australian Culture: Location Past to Location Present in National Geographic." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3.2 (2000). [your date of access] <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0005/geo.php>. Chicago style: David Hyndman, "Postcolonial Representation of Aboriginal Australian Culture: Location Past to Location Present in National Geographic," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3, no. 2 (2000), <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0005/geo.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: David Hyndman. (2000) Postcolonial representation of Aboriginal Australian culture: location past to location present in National Geographic. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3(2). <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0005/geo.php> ([your date of access]).

IntroductionThe role, function, and future of the Western public intellectual have been highly contested over the last three decades. The dominant discourse, which predicts the decline of the public intellectual, asserts the institutionalisation of their labour has eroded their authority to speak publicly to power on behalf of others; and that the commodification of intellectual performance has transformed them from sages, philosophers, and men of letters into trivial media entertainers, pundits, and ideologues. Overwhelmingly the crisis debates link the demise of the public intellectual to shifts in public culture, which was initially conceptualised as a literary and artistic space designed to liberate the awareness of citizens through critique and to reflect upon “the chronic and persistent issues of life, meaning and representation” (McGuigan 430). This early imagining of public culture as an exclusively civilising space, however, did not last and Jurgen Habermas documented its decline in response to the commodification and politicisation of culture in the 20th century. Yet, as social activism continued to flourish in the public sphere, Habermas re-theorised public culture as a more pluralistic site which simultaneously accommodates “uncritical populism, radical subversion and critical intervention” (436) and operates as both a marketplace and a “site of communicative rationality, mutual respect and understanding (McGuigan 434). The rise of creative industries expanded popular engagement with public culture but destabilised the authority of the public intellectual. The accompanying shifts also affected the function of the curator, who, like the intellectual, had a role in legislating and arbitrating knowledge, and negotiating and authorising meaning through curated exhibitions of objects deemed sacred and significant. Jennifer Barrett noted the similarities in the two functions when she argued in Museums and the Public Sphere that, because museums have an intellectual role in society, curators have a public intellectual function as they define publics, determine modes of engagement, and shape knowledge formation (150). The resemblance between the idealised role of the intellectual and the curator in enabling the critique that emancipates the citizen means that both functions have been affected by the atomisation of contemporary society, which has exposed the power effects of the imposed coherency of authoritative and universal narratives. Indeed, just as Russell Jacoby, Allan Bloom, and Richard Posner predicted the death of the intellectual, who could no longer claim to speak in universal terms on behalf of others, so museums faced their own crisis of relevancy. Declining visitor numbers and reduced funding saw museums reinvent themselves, and in moving away from their traditional exclusive, authoritative, and nation building roles—which Pierre Bourdieu argued reproduced the “existing class-based culture, education and social systems” (Barrett 3)—museums transformed themselves into inclusive and diverse sites of co-creation with audiences and communities. In the context of this change the curator ceased to be the “primary producer of knowledge” (Barrett 13) and emerged to reproduce “contemporary culture preoccupations” and constitute the “social imagery” of communities (119). The modern museum remains concerned with explaining and interrogating the world, but the shift in curatorial work is away from the objects themselves to a focus upon audiences and how they value the artefacts, knowledge, and experiences of collective shared memory. The change in curatorial practices was driven by what Peter Vergo called a new “museology” (Barrett 2), and according to Macdonald this term assumes that “object meanings are contextual rather than inherent” or absolute and universal (2). Public intellectuals and curators, as the custodians of ideas and narratives in the contemporary cultural industries, privilege audience reception and recognise that consumers and/or citizens engage with public culture for a variety of reasons, including critique, understanding, and entertainment. Curators, like public intellectuals, also recognise that they can no longer assume the knowledge and experience of their audience, nor prescribe the nature of engagement with ideas and objects. Instead, curators and intellectuals emerge as negotiators and translators of cultural meaning as they traverse the divides in public culture, sequestering ideas and cultural artefacts and constructing narratives that engage audiences and communities in the process of re-imagining the past as a way of providing new insights into contemporary challenges.Methodology In exploring the idea that the public intellectual acts as a curator of ideas as he or she defines and privileges the discursive spaces of public culture, this paper begins by providing an overview of the cultural context of the contemporary public intellectual which enables comparisons between intellectual and curatorial functions. Second, this paper analyses a random sample of the content of books, newspaper and magazine articles, speeches, and transcripts of interviews drawn from The Australian, The Age, The Sydney Morning Herald, The Sydney Institute, the ABC, The Monthly, and Quadrant published or broadcast between 1996 and 2007, in order to identify the key themes of the History Wars. It should be noted that the History War debates were extensive, persistent, and complex—and as they unfolded over a 13-year period they emerged as the “most powerful” and “most disputed form of public intellectual work” (Carter, Ideas 9). Many issues were aggregated under the trope of the History Wars, and these topics were subject to both popular commentary and academic investigation. Furthermore, the History Wars discourse was produced in a range of mediums including popular media sources, newspaper and magazine columns, broadcasts, blogs, lectures, and writers’ forums and publications. Given the extent of this discourse, the sample of articles which provides the basis for this analysis does not seek to comprehensively survey the literature on the History Wars. Rather this paper draws upon Foucault’s genealogical qualitative method, which exposes the subordinated discontinuities in texts, to 1) consider the political context of the History War trope; and 2) identify how intellectuals discursively exhibited versions of the nation’s identity and in the process made visible the power effects of the past. Public Intellectuals The underlying fear of the debates about the public intellectual crisis was that the public intellectual would no longer be able to act as the conscience of a nation, speak truth to power, or foster the independent and dissenting public debate that guides and informs individual human agency—a goal that has lain at the heart of the Western intellectual’s endeavours since Kant’s Sapere aude. The late 20th century crisis discourse, however, primarily mourned the decline of a particular form of public authority attached to the heroic universal intellectual formation made popular by Emile Zola at the end of the 19th century, and which claimed the power to hold the political elites of France accountable. Yet talk of an intellectual crisis also became progressively associated with a variety of general concerns about globalising society. Some of these concerns included fears that structural shifts in the public domain would lead to the impoverishment of the cultural domain, the end of Western civilisation, the decline of the progressive political left, and the end of universal values. It was also expected that the decline in intellectuals would also enable the rise of populism, political conservatism, and anti-intellectualism (Jacoby Bloom; Bauman; Rorty; Posner; Furedi; Marquand). As a result of these fears, the function of the intellectual who engages publicly was re-theorised. Zygmunt Bauman suggested the intellectual was no longer the legislator or arbiter of taste but the negotiator and translator of ideas; Michel Foucault argued that the intellectual could be institutionally situated and still speak truth to power; and Edward Said insisted the public intellectual had a role in opening up possibilities to resolve conflict by re-imagining the past. In contrast, the Australian public intellectual has never been declared in crisis or dead, and this is probably because the nation does not have the same legacy of the heroic public intellectual. Indeed, as a former British colony labelled the “working man’s paradise” (White 4), Australia’s intellectual work was produced in “institutionalised networks” (Head 5) like universities and knowledge disciplines, political parties, magazines, and unions. Within these networks there was a double division of labour, between the abstraction of knowledge and its compartmentalisation, and between the practical application of knowledge and its popularisation. As a result of this legacy, a more organic, specific, and institutionalised form of intellectualism emerged, which, according to Head, limited intellectual influence and visibility across other networks and domains of knowledge and historically impeded general intellectual engagement with the public. Fears about the health and authority of the public intellectual in Australia have therefore tended to be produced as a part of Antonio Gramsci’s ideological “wars of position” (Mouffe 5), which are an endless struggle between cultural and political elites for control of the institutions of social reproduction. These struggles began in Australia in the 1970s and 1980s over language and political correctness, and they reappeared in the 1990s as the History Wars. History Wars“The History Wars” was a term applied to an ideological battle between two visions of the Australian nation. The first vision was circulated by Australian Labor Party Prime Minister Paul Keating, who saw race relations as central to 21st century global Australia and began the process of dealing with the complex and divisive Indigenous issues at home. He established the Council for Aboriginal Reconciliation in 1991; acknowledged in the 1992 Redfern speech that white settlers were responsible for the problems in Indigenous communities; and commissioned the Bringing Them Home report, which was completed in 1997 and concluded that the mandated removal of Indigenous children from their families and communities throughout the 20th century had violated their human rights and caused long-term and systemic damage to Indigenous communities.The second vision of Australia was circulated by Liberal Prime Minister John Howard, who, after he came to power in 1996, began his own culture war to reconstruct a more conservative vision of the nation. Howard believed that the stories of Indigenous dispossession undermined confidence in the nation, and he sought to produce a historical view of the past grounded in “Judeo-Christian ethics, the progressive spirit of the enlightenment and the institutions and values of British culture” (“Sense of Balance”). Howard called for a return to a narrative form that valorised Australia’s achievements, and he sought to instil a more homogenised view of the past and a coherent national identity by reviewing high school history programs, national museum appointments, and citizenship tests. These two political positions framed the subsequent intellectual struggles over the past. While a number of issues were implicated in the battle, generally, left commentators used the History Wars as a way to circulate certain ideas about morality and identity, including 1) Australians needed to make amends for past injustices to Indigenous Australians and 2) the nation’s global identity was linked to how they dealt with Australia’s first people. In contrast, the political right argued 1) the left had misrepresented and overstated the damage done to Indigenous communities and rewritten history; 2) stories about Indigenous abuse were fragmenting the nation’s identity at a time when the nation needed to build a coherent global presence; and 3) no apology was necessary, because contemporary Australians did not feel responsible for past injustices. AnalysisThe war between these two visions of Australia was fought in “extra-curricular sites,” according to Stuart Macintyre, and this included newspaper columns, writers’ festivals, broadcast interviews, intellectual magazines like The Monthly and Quadrant, books, and think tank lectures. Academics and intellectuals were the primary protagonists, and they disputed the extent of colonial genocide; the legitimacy of Indigenous land rights; the impact of the Stolen Generation on the lives of modern Indigenous citizens; and the necessity of a formal apology as a part of the reconciliation process. The conflicts also ignited debates about the nature of history, the quality of public debates in Australia, and exposed the tensions between academics, public intellectuals, newspaper commentators and political elites. Much of the controversy played out in the national forums can be linked to the Bringing Them Home: National Inquiry into the Separation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Children from Their Families report Stolen Generation inquiry and report, which was commissioned by Keating but released after Howard came to office. Australian public intellectual and professor of politics Robert Manne critiqued the right’s response to the report in his 2001 Quarterly Essay titled “In Denial: The Stolen Generation and The Right”. He argued that there was a right-wing campaign in Australia that sought to diminish and undermine justice for Aboriginal people by discounting the results of the inquiry, underestimating the numbers of those affected, and underfunding the report’s recommendations. He spoke of the nation’s shame and in doing so he challenged Australia’s image of itself. Manne’s position was applauded by many for providing what Kay Schaffer in her Australian Humanities Review paper called an “effective antidote to counter the bitter stream of vitriol that followed the release of the Bringing Them Home report”. Yet Manne also drew criticism. Historian Bain Attwood argued that Manne’s attack on conservatives was polemical, and he suggested that it would be more useful to consider in detail what drives the right-wing analysis of Indigenous issues. Attwood also suggested that Manne’s essay had misrepresented the origins of the narrative of the Stolen Generation, which had been widely known prior to the release of the Stolen Generation report.Conservative commentators focused upon challenging the accuracy of those stories submitted to the inquiry, which provided the basis for the report. This struggle over factual details was to characterise the approach of historian Keith Windschuttle, who rejected both the numbers of those stolen from their families and the degree of violence used in the settlement of Australia. In his 2002 book The Fabrication of Aboriginal History, Volume One, Van Diemen’s Land 1803–1847 he accused left-wing academics of exaggerating the events of Aboriginal history in order to further their own political agenda. In particular, he argued that the extent of the “conflagration of oppression and conflict” which sought to “dispossess, degrade, and devastate the Aboriginal people” had been overstated and misrepresented and designed to “create an edifice of black victimhood and white guilt” (Windschuttle, Fabrication 1). Manne responded to Windschuttle’s allegations in Whitewash: On Keith Windschuttle’s Fabrication of Aboriginal History, arguing that Windschuttle arguments were “unpersuasive and unsupported either by independent research or even familiarity with the relevant secondary historical literature” (7) and that the book added nothing to the debates. Other academics like Stephen Muecke, Marcia Langton and Heather Goodall expressed concerns about Windschuttle’s work, and in 2003 historians Stuart Macintyre and Anna Clark published The History Wars, which described the implications of the politicisation of history on the study of the past. At the same time, historian Bain Attwood in Telling the Truth About Aboriginal History argued that the contestation over history was eroding the “integrity of intellectual life in Australia” (2). Fractures also broke out between writers and historians about who was best placed to write history. The Australian book reviewer Stella Clarke wrote that the History Wars were no longer constructive discussions, and she suggested that historical novelists could colonise the territory traditionally dominated by professional historians. Inga Clendinnen wasn’t so sure. She wrote in a 2006 Quarterly Essay entitled “The History Question: Who Owns the Past?” that, while novelists could get inside events through a process of “applied empathy,” imagination could in fact obstruct the truth of reality (20). Discussion The History Wars saw academics engage publicly to exhibit a set of competing ideas about Australia’s identity in the nation’s media and associated cultural sites, and while the debates initially prompted interest they eventually came to be described as violent and unproductive public conversations about historical details and ideological positions. Indeed, just as the museum curator could no longer authoritatively prescribe the cultural meaning of artefacts, so the History Wars showed that public intellectuals could not adjudicate the identity of the nation nor prescribe the nature of its conduct. For left-wing public intellectuals and commentators, the History Wars came to signify the further marginalisation of progressive politics in the face of the dominant, conservative, and increasingly populist constituency. Fundamentally, the battles over the past reinforced fears that Australia’s public culture was becoming less diverse, less open, and less able to protect traditional civil rights, democratic freedoms, and social values. Importantly for intellectuals like Robert Manne, there was a sense that Australian society was less able or willing to reflect upon the moral legitimacy of its past actions as a part of the process of considering its contemporary identity. In contrast right-wing intellectuals and commentators argued that the History Wars showed how public debate under a conservative government had been liberated from political correctness and had become more vibrant. This was the position of Australian columnist Janet Albrechtsen who argued that rather than a decline in public debate there had been, in fact, “vigorous debate of issues that were once banished from the national conversation” (91). She went on to insist that left-wing commentators’ concerns about public debate were simply a mask for their discomfort at having their views and ideas challenged. There is no doubt that the History Wars, while media-orchestrated debates that circulated a set of ideological positions designed to primarily attract audiences and construct particular views of Australia, also raised public awareness of the complex issues associated with Australia’s Indigenous past. Indeed, the Wars ended what W.E.H Stanner had called the “great silence” on Indigenous issues and paved the way for Kevin Rudd’s apology to Indigenous people for their “profound grief, suffering and loss”. The Wars prompted conversations across the nation about what it means to be Australian and exposed the way history is deeply implicated in power surely a goal of both intellectual debate and curated exhibitions. ConclusionThis paper has argued that the public intellectual can operate like a curator in his or her efforts to preserve particular ideas, interpretations, and narratives of public culture. The analysis of the History Wars debates, however, showed that intellectuals—just like curators —are no longer authorities and adjudicators of the nation’s character, identity, and future but cultural intermediaries whose function is not just the performance or exhibition of selected ideas, objects, and narratives but also the engagement and translation of other voices across different contexts in the ongoing negotiation of what constitutes cultural significance. ReferencesAlbrechtsen, Janet. “The History Wars.” The Sydney Papers (Winter/Spring 2003): 84–92. Attwood, Bain. Telling the Truth about Aboriginal History. Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 2005.Bauman, Zygmunt. Legislators and Interpreters: On Modernity, Post Modernity and Intellectuals. Cambridge, CAMBS: Polity, 1987. Barrett, Jennifer. Museums and the Public Sphere. Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons, 2010. Bloom, Allan. Closing of the American Mind. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1987.Bourdieu. P. Distinctions: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. Trans. R. Nice. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1984. Bringing Them Home: National Inquiry into the Separation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Children from Their Families. Commonwealth of Australia. 1997.Carter, David. Introduction. The Ideas Market: An Alternative Take on Australia’s Intellectual Life. Ed. David Carter. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 2004. 1–11.Clendinnen, Inga. True Stories. Sydney: ABC Books, 1999.Clendinnen, Inga. “The History Question: Who Owns the Past?” Quarterly Essay 23 (2006): 1–82. Foucault, Michel, and Giles Deleuze. Intellectuals and Power Language, Counter Memory and Practice: Selected Essays and Interviews. Ed. and trans. David Bouchard. New York: Cornell UP, 1977. Gratton, Michelle. “Howard Claims Victory in National Culture Wars.” The Age 26 Jan. 2006. 6 Aug. 2015 ‹http://www.theage.com.au/news/national/pm-claims-victory-in-culture-wars/2006/01/25/1138066861163.html›.Head, Brian. “Introduction: Intellectuals in Australian Society.” Intellectual Movements and Australian Society. Eds. Brian Head and James Waller. Melbourne: Oxford UP, 1988. 1–44.Hohendahl, Peter Uwe, and Marc Silberman. “Critical Theory, Public Sphere and Culture: Jürgen Habermas and His Critics.” New German Critique 16 (Winter 1979): 89–118.Howard, John. “A Sense of Balance: The Australian Achievement in 2006.” National Press Club. Great Parliament House, Canberra, ACT. 25 Jan. 2006. ‹http://pmtranscripts.dpmc.gov.au/browse.php?did=22110›.Howard, John. “Standard Bearer in Liberal Culture.” Address on the 50th Anniversary of Quadrant, Sydney, 3 Oct. 2006. The Australian 4 Oct. 2006. 6 Aug. 2015 ‹http://www.theaustralian.com.au/opinion/john-howard-standard-bearer-in-liberal-culture/story-e6frg6zo-1111112306534›.Jacoby, Russell. The Last Intellectuals: American Culture in the Age of Academe. New York: The Noonday Press, 1987.Keating, Paul. “Keating’s History Wars.” Sydney Morning Herald 5 Sep. 2003. 6 Aug. 2015 ‹http://www.smh.com.au/articles/2003/09/05/1062549021882.html›.Macdonald, S. “Expanding Museum Studies: An Introduction.” Ed. S. Macdonald. A Companion to Museum Studies. Oxford and Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2006. 1–12. Macintyre, Stuart, and Anna Clarke. The History Wars. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 2003. ———. “The History Wars.” The Sydney Papers (Winter/Spring 2003): 77–83.———. “Who Plays Stalin in Our History Wars? Sydney Morning Herald 17 Sep. 2003. 6 Aug. 2015 ‹http://www.smh.com.au/articles/2003/09/16/1063625030438.html›.Manne, Robert. “In Denial: The Stolen Generation and the Right.” Quarterly Essay 1 (2001).———. WhiteWash: On Keith Windshuttle’s Fabrication of Aboriginal History. Melbourne. Black Ink, 2003.Mark, David. “PM Calls for End to the History Wars.” ABC News 28 Aug. 2009.McGuigan, Jim. “The Cultural Public Sphere.” European Journal of Cultural Studies 8.4 (2005): 427–43.Mouffe, Chantal, ed. Gramsci and Marxist Theory. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1979. Melleuish, Gregory. The Power of Ideas: Essays on Australian Politics and History. Melbourne: Australian Scholarly Publishing, 2009.Rudd, Kevin. “Full Transcript of PM’s Apology Speech.” The Australian 13 Feb. 2008. 6 Aug. 2015 ‹http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/nation/full-transcript-of-pms-speech/story-e6frg6nf-1111115543192›.Said, Edward. “The Public Role of Writers and Intellectuals.” ABC Alfred Deakin Lectures, Melbourne Town Hall, 19 May 2001. Schaffer, Kay. “Manne’s Generation: White Nation Responses to the Stolen Generation Report.” Australian Humanities Review (June 2001). 5 June 2015 ‹http://www.australianhumanitiesreview.org/archive/Issue-June-2001/schaffer.html›. Shanahan, Dennis. “Howard Rallies the Right in Cultural War Assault.” The Australian 4 Oct. 2006. 6 Aug. 2015 ‹http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/nation/howard-rallies-right-in-culture-war-assault/story-e6frg6nf-1111112308221›.Wark, Mackenzie. “Lip Service.” The Ideas Market: An Alternative Take on Australia’s Intellectual Life. Ed. David Carter. Carlton, VIC: Melbourne UP, 2004. 259–69.White, Richard. Inventing Australia Images and Identity 1688–1980. Sydney: George Allen and Unwin, 1981. Windschuttle, Keith. The Fabrication of Australian History, Volume One: Van Diemen’s Land 1803–1847. Sydney: McCleay, 2002. ———. “Why There Was No Stolen Generation (Part One).” Quadrant Online (Jan–Feb 2010). 6 Aug. 2015 ‹https://quadrant.org.au/magazine/2010/01-02/why-there-were-no-stolen-generations/›.

Introduction Contrary to popular understandings of academia, the work of academics is intrinsically community driven, because scholarly inquiry is invariably about social life. Therefore, what occupies academic scholarship is in the interest of the broader populace, and we rely on the public to inform our work. The findings of academic work are simultaneously a reflection of the researcher, and the public. The research interests of contemporary cultural and social researchers inevitably, and often necessarily, reflect issues and activities that they encounter in their everyday lives. My own doctoral research into contemporary cultural discourses informing the expectations, and experiences of motherhood in regional Western Australia, reflects an academic, personal and community interest. The doctoral research drawn on in this paper, stresses the relevance of cultural research projects to the concerns and behaviours of the wider public. The enthusiasm with which participants responded to this project, and reported back about their feelings and actions following the interview was unexpected. The immediacy of the impact this project has had on assisting women to create and consider alternate discourses demonstrates the capacity of this work to inform and direct contemporary social, political and cultural debates surrounding the bodily expectations, and experiences of motherhood. The feminist inspired methodology adopted in this project facilitated my speaking to other women negotiating cultural ideals about what constitutes a "good mother" in contemporary regional Western Australia. It has the potential to open up conversations between women, and between women and men, as evidenced by subsequent responses from participants. By examining the impact of these cultural ideals with everyday women, this project provides a means for women, and men, to reflect, engage critically and ultimately re-shape these discourses to more accurately reveal the desires and aspirations of everyday Australian women. From my perspective, three discourses in particular, the Good Mother, the Superwoman, and the Yummy Mummy, inform the expectations and experiences of motherhood. The orthodox discourse of the 'Good Mother' understands motherhood as a natural feminine desire and it describes characteristics such as enduring love, care, patience and selflessness that are often presented as synonymous with motherhood. Women who can successfully juggle the expectations of being a 'good mother' and a dedicated professional worker, are 'superwomen'. Increasingly dominant is the expectation that following maternity, women should not look as if they have had a child at all; the discourse of the Yummy Mummy focused on in this paper. The relationships between these discourses are complex; "failure to perform" them adequately can result in women being labelled "bad mothers", either by themselves or others. Although these discourses are Western and globalising, they have a tangible effect locally. The cultural scripts they proscribe to are often contradictory; resulting in many women feeling conflicted. Despite some levels of critical engagement with these competing cultural agendas, the women in this study reflected, to differing degrees, their internalisation of the expectations that accompany these cultural scripts. The outcome of this work, and the process of producing it, has the capacity to influence the direction of current debates in Australia. Amongst others, the debate surrounding the contemporary cultural "presentation" of postnatal bodies, including what women should look like as mothers. The role of the media in shaping the current expectations surrounding the postnatal body, including the recently raised proposal that glossy magazines, and other forms of media, should have to declare incidences of Photoshopping, or other forms of photo enhancement, is one agenda that this project can influence. I explore the potential of this work to influence these debates through an examination of the impact of popularised fantasies on women's subjectivity, and feelings towards their postnatal bodies. An examination of the ways that some aspects of mothering are excluded from popular media sources highlights the capacity of this work to provide a practical means of sharing contemporary expectations and experiences of motherhood amongst women, those already mothering, and those intending to mother, and men. These debates have an impact on, and relevance for, the everyday lives of Australian women and men. Feminist Methodologies: Opportunities to Foster Mutual Understanding and Recognition of Shared Experience The motivating emphasis of feminist research is "women's lives and the questions they have about their own experiences" (Bloom 112). Consequently, a feminist methodology includes a concern with transformation and empowerment through the research practice (McRobbie, "Politics" 52). For Luff this reminds feminist researchers that their first duty is to "deal respectively with women's subjectivity, and indeed the inter-subjectivities of researcher and participants" (692). Olesen, in her account of feminist qualitative research, articulates that: the researcher too, has attributes, characteristics, a history, and gender, class, race and social attributes that enter the researcher interaction … in light of the multiple positions, selves, and identities at play in the research process, the subjectivity of the researcher, as much as that of the researched, became foregrounded. (226-7) This signifies for Olesen the indistinct boundary between researchers and researched (227), and for myself, signals the potential that feminist research praxis has for uniting the academic and broader, communities. According to Reinharz the interview has historically been the principle way in which feminists have pursued the active contribution of their participants in the construction of their research projects (Heyl 374). The research findings of this doctoral project are based on a series of interviews with nine intending to mother women, and twenty one already mothering women. The research questions were open-ended to allow participants to answer "in their own terms" (Jones 48). Participants were also encouraged to reflect on aspects of mothering, or plans to mother, that were most significant to them. Following Oakley (49) and others (Bloom 11) argument that there can be no intimacy between researcher and participant without reciprocity, while I chose not to express my personal disagreement to any statements made by participants, I self-consciously chose to answer any questions that participants directed to me. I did not attempt to hide my personal empathy with many of their accounts, and allowed for email follow up. By doing my upmost to position myself as a "validating listener" rather than a scrutinising judge, I allowed the women to reflect on the fact that their feelings were not necessarily unusual or "abnormal", and did not make them "bad mothers". In this way, both the process, and the final product of this work can provide a practical means for women to share some of their feelings, which are often excluded, or in some cases, vilified (Arendell 1196; O'Donohoe 14), in popular media outlets. The outcome of this work can contribute to an alternate space for everyday women to "be real" with both other mothers, and intending to mother women, and contribute to discourses of motherhood. Unreal Imagery and the Postnatal Body: Possibilities for Communication and Alteration Drawing on the principal example of the impact of unreal imagery, specifically images of airbrushed supermodels and celebrities, on the real experiences of motherhood by everyday Australian women, I propose that this project can foster further communications between intending to mother, and already mothering women, and their partners, about the realities, and misconceptions of motherhood; particularly, to share aspects of mothering that are excluded or marginalised in popular media representations. Through this process of validating the experiences of "real" everyday women, women, and men, can affect a break from, or at least critique, dominant discourses surrounding motherhood, and appreciate that there are a multiplicity of opinions, information, and ways of mothering. A dominant aspect of the "unreal" surrounding motherhood concerns the body and what women are led to believe their bodies can, and indeed, should, look like, postnatal. Unsurprisingly, the women in my study associated this "unreal" with Hollywood representations, and the increasing plethora of celebrity mums they encounter in the media. As McRobbie has suggested, a popular front page image for various celebrity chasing weekly magazines is the Yummy Mummy, "who can squeeze into size six jeans a couple of weeks after giving birth, with the help of a personal trainer", an image that has provided the perfect foundation for marketing companies to promote the arena of maternity as the next central cultural performance in terms of femininity, in which "high maintenance pampering techniques, as well as a designer wardrobe" ("Yummy") are essential. The majority of women in my study spoke about these images, and the messages they send. With few exceptions, the participants identified popular images surrounding mothering, and the expectations that accompany them, as unrealistic, and inaccurate. Several women reflected on the way that some aspects of their experience, which, in many cases, turned out to be shared experience, of mothering are excluded, or "hidden away", in popular media forms. For Rachel, popular media representations do not capture the "realness" of everyday experiences of motherhood: I was looking at all these not so real people … Miranda Kerr like breast feeding with her red stiletto's on and her red lipstick and I'm just like right you've got your slippers on and your pyjamas on and you're lucky to brush your teeth by lunchtime … I don't think they want to keep it real … It's not all giggles and smiles; there is uncontrollable crying in the middle of the night because you don't know what's wrong with them and you find out the next day that they've got an ear infection. You know where's all that, they miss out all that, it's all about the beautiful sleeping babies and you know the glam mums. (Rachel, aged 33, mother of one) The individual women involved in this study were personally implicated to differing degrees in these unreal images. For Penelope, these types of representations influenced her bodily expectations, and she identified this disjunction as the most significant in her mothering experience: I expected to pop straight back into my pre-maternity size, that for me was the hugest thing actually, like you see these ladies who six weeks after they've had their baby, look as good as before sort of thing, no stretch marks or anything like and then I thought if they can do it, I can do it sort of thing and it didn't work like that. (Penelope, aged 36, mother of four) Penelope's experience was not an unusual one, with the majority of women reporting similar feelings. The findings of this study concur with the outcomes reported by a recent United Kingdom survey of 2000 women, which found that 82 per cent were unhappy with their postnatal bodies, 77 per cent were "shocked by the changes to their body", and, more than nine out of ten agreed that "celebrity mothers' dramatic weight loss 'puts immense and unwelcome pressure on ordinary mums" (O'Donohoe 9). This suggests that celebrity images, and the expectations that accompany them, are having a widespread effect in the Western world, resulting in many women experiencing a sense of loss when it comes to their bodies. They must "get their bodies back", and may experience shame over the unattainability of this goal, which appears to be readily achievable for other women. To appreciate the implications of these images, and the power relations involved, these effects need to be examined on the local, everyday level. O'Donohoe discusses the role of magazines in funding this unreal imagery, and their fixation on high-profile Yummy Mummies, describing their coverage as "hyper-hypocritical" (9-10). On one hand, they play a leading role in the proliferation, promotion and reinforcement of the Yummy Mummy ideal, and the significant pressure this discourse places on women in the wider community. Whilst on the other hand they denigrate and vilify celebrity mums who are also increasingly pressured into this performance, labelling them as "weigh too thin" (cover of Famous magazine, Jan. 2011) and "too stressed to eat" (cover of OK magazine, June 2011). Gill and Arthurs observe how: the female celebrity body is under constant surveillance, policed for being too fat, too thin, having wrinkles or 'ugly hands' … 'ordinary' women's bodies are under similar scrutiny when they participate in the growing number of reality make-over shows in which … female participants are frequently humiliated and vilified. (444) An observation by one of my participants suggests the implications of these media trends on the lives of everyday women, and suggests that everyday women are inscrutably aware of the lack of alternative discourses: It's kind of like fashionable to talk about your body and what's wrong with it, it's not really, I don't know. You don't really say, check out, like god I've got good boobs and look at me, look how good I look. It's almost like, my boobs are sagging, or my bums too big, it's never anything really positive. (Daisy, aged 36, mother of two) The "fashionable" nature of body surveillance is further supported by the vast majority of women in this study who reported such behaviour. A preoccupation with the body as a source of identity that emphasises self-surveillance, self-monitoring, and self-discipline (Gill 155) is a central component to neoliberalism, and the Yummy Mummy phenomenon. As O'Donohoe surmises, maternity now requires high maintenance (3). O'Donohoe comments on the concern this generates amongst some women regarding their weight gain, leading to some cases of infant malnutrition as a consequence of dieting whilst pregnant (9). Whilst this is an extreme example, mothering women's anxiety over body image is a widespread concern as reflected in this study. This trend towards body surveillance suggests that the type of sexualisation Attwood describes as taking place in Western cultures, is present and influential amongst the women in this study. I concur with Attwood that this trend is supplementary to the intensification of neoliberalism, in which "the individual becomes a self-regulating unit in society" (xxiii). The body as a key site for identity construction, acts as a canvas, on which the cultural trend towards increasing sexualisation, is printed, and has implications for both feminine and maternal identities. The women in this study reported high incidences of body self-surveillance, with an emphasis on the monitoring of "weight". For many women, the disjuncture between the popularised "unreal", and the reality of their postnatal bodies resulted in feelings of shock and disappointment. For Teal, positive feelings and self-esteem were connected to her weight, and she discussed how she had to restrict weighing herself to once a week, at a particular time of day, to avoid distress: I'm trying to make it that I don't go on the scales, just once and week and like in the morning, because like I go at different times and like your weight does change a little bit during the day and your oh my goodness I've put on kilo! And feel awful and then next morning you weigh yourself and go good its back. (Teal, aged 25, mother of one) According to Foucault (Sawicki, Disciplining 68), the practice of self-surveillance teaches individuals to monitor themselves, and is one of the key normative operations of biopower, a process that attaches individuals to their identities. The habitual approach to weight monitoring by many of the women in this study suggests that the Yummy Mummy discourse is becoming incorporated into the identities of everyday mothering women, as a recognisable and dominant cultural script to perform, to differing degrees, and to varying grades of consciousness. A number of participants in this study worked in the fitness industry, and whilst I expected them to be more concerned about their bodies postnatal, because of the pressures they face in their workplaces to "look the part", the education they receive about their bodies gave them a realistic idea of what individual women can achieve, and they were among the most critical of weight monitoring practices. As several feminist and poststructuralist theorists suggest, disciplinary practices, such as self-surveillance, both underscore, and contribute to, contemporary cultural definitions of femininity. From a Foucauldian perspective, a woman in this context becomes "a self-policing subject, self-committed to a relentless self-surveillance" (Hekman 275). However, although for Foucault, total liberation is impossible, some parts of social life are more vulnerable to criticism than others, and we can change particular normalising practices (165). Creating alternate mothering discourses is one way to achieve this, and some women did reflect critically on these types of self-policing behaviours. A minority of women in this study recognised their body as "different" to before they had children. Rather than agonise over these changes, they accepted them as part of where they are in their lives right now: I'm not the same person that I was then, its different, I like I just sort of feel that change is good, it's okay to be different, it's okay for me look different, it's okay for my body to kind of wear my motherhood badges that's okay I feel happy about that. So I don't want it to look exactly the same, no I don't actually. (Corinne, aged 33, mother of four) As many of the women who have been in email contact with me since their interviews have expressed, the questions I asked have prompted them to reflect more consciously on many of these issues, and for some, to have conversations with loved ones. For me, this demonstrates that this project has assisted women, and the process of taking part has elicited conversations between more women, and importantly, between women and men, about these types of media representations, and the expectations they create. In response to a growing body of research into the effects of unrealistic imagery on women, particularly young women and the increasing rates of eating disorders amongst women (see for example Hudson et al.; Taylor et al.; Treasure) in Western communities, there has been debate in a number of Western countries, including the United Kingdom, France and Australia, over whether the practice of digitally altering photos in the media, should be legislated so that media outlets are required to declare when and how images have been altered. The media has not greeted this suggestion warmly. In response to calls for legislative action Jill Wanless, an associate editor at Look magazine, suggested that "sometimes readers want hyper-reality in a way—they want to be taken out of their own situation". The justification for "perfected" images, in this case, is the inferred distinction they create between the unreal and reality. However, the responses from the everyday women involved in this study suggest that their desire is not for "hyper reality", but rather for "realness" to be represented. As Corinne explains: Where's the mother on the front page of the magazine that says I took 11 months to lose my baby weight…I hate this fantasy world, where's the reality, where's our real mums, our real women who are out there going I agonise over dropping my kid in day care everyday when they cry, I hate it. That's real. Performativity, as an inextricable aspect of hyper reality, may be ignored by those with a vested interest in media production, but the roles that discourses such as the Yummy Mummy have in proliferating and creating the expectation of these performances, is of interest to both the community and cultural theorists. Conclusion The capacity to influence current cultural, political and social debates surrounding what women should look like as mothers in contemporary Western Australian society is important to explore. Using feminist methodologies in such work provides an opportunity to unite the academic and broader communities. By disassembling the boundary between researcher and researched, it is possible to encourage mutual understanding and the recognition of mutual experience amongst researcher, participants' and the wider community. Taking part in this research has elicited conversations between women, and men concerning their expectations, and experiences of parenthood. Most importantly, the outcome of this work has reflected a desire by local everyday women for the media to include their stories in the broader presentation of motherhood. In this sense, this project has, and can further, assist women in sharing aspects of their experiences that are frequently excluded from popular media representations, and present the multiplicity of mothering experiences, and what being a "good mother" can entail. Acknowledgements I would like to sincerely thank the following for their invaluable feedback on earlier drafts of this article: Dr Kathryn Trees, Yann Toussaint, Linda Warren and the anonymous M/C Journal reviewers. References Arendell, Terry. "Conceiving and Investigating Motherhood: The Decade's Scholarship." Journal of Marriage and the Family 62.4 (2000): 1192-207. Attwood, Feona. Mainstreaming Sex: The Sexualisation of Western Culture. London: I.B. Tauris, 2009. Bloom, Leslie. "Reflections from the Field: Locked in Uneasy Sisterhood: Reflections on Feminist Methodology and Research Relations." Anthropology & Education Quarterly 28.1 (1997): 111-22. Wanless, Jill. "Curb Airbrushed Images, Keep Bodies Real." CBS News World UK, 2010. 20 Sep. 2010 ‹http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2010/09/20/world/main6884884.shtml›. Gill, Rosalind. Gender and the Media. Cambridge: Polity P, 2007. Gill, Rosalind, and Jane Arthurs. "Editors Introduction: New Femininities?" Feminist Media Studies 6.4 (2006): 443-51. Hekman, Susan. Feminist Interpretations of Michel Foucault. University Park: Pennsylvania State UP, 1996. Heyl, Barbara Sherman. "Ethnographic Interviewing." Handbook of Ethnography. Eds. Paul Atkinson, Amanda J. Coffey, Sara Delamont, John Lofland, and Lyn H. Lofland. London: Sage, 2001. 369-83. Hudson, James I., Eva Hiripi, Harrison G. Pope Jr., and Ronald C. Kessler. "The Prevalence and Correlates of Eating Disorders in the National Comorbidity Survey Replication." Biological Psychiatry 61.3 (2007). 348-58. Jones, Sue. "Depth Interviewing." Applied Qualitative Research. Ed. Robert Walker. Ashgate, 1985. 45-56. Luff, Donna. "Dialogue across the Divides: 'Moments of Rapport' and Power in Feminist Research with Anti-Feminist Women." Sociology 33.4 (1999): 687-703. McRobbie, Angela. "The Politics of Feminist Research: Between Talk, Text and Action." Feminist Review 12 (1982): 46-57. ———. "Yummy Mummies Leave a Bad Taste for Young Women: The Cult of Celebrity Motherhood Is Deterring Couples from Having Children Early. We Need to Rethink the Nanny Culture." The Guardian 2 Mar. 2006. Oakley, Ann. "Interviewing Women: A Contradiction in Terms." Doing Feminist Research. Ed. Helen Roberts. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1981. 30-61. O'Donohoe, Stephanie. "Yummy Mummies: The Clamour of Glamour in Advertising to Mothers." Advertising & Society Review 7.3 (2006): 1-18. Olesen, Virginia. "Feminisms and Qualitative Research at and into the Millennium." Handbook of Qualitative Research. Eds. Norman Denzin and Yvonna Lincoln. London: Sage, 2000. 215-55. Sawicki, Jana. Disciplining Foucault: Feminism, Power, and the Body. New York: Routledge, 1991. ———. "Feminism, Foucault, and 'Subjects' of Power and Freedom." Feminist Interpretations of Michel Foucault. Ed. Susan J. Hekman, University Park: Pennsylvania State UP, 1996. 159-210. Taylor, C. Barr, et al. "The Adverse Effect of Negative Comments about Weight and Shape for Family and Siblings on Women at High Risk for Eating Disorders." Paediatrics 118 (2006): 731-38. Treasure, Janet. "An Image Is Worth a Thousand Words of Public Health." Brazilian Journal of Psychiatry 56.1 (2007): 7-8.