Journal articles on the topic 'Phantom Bodies'

Interpretation of radiolucent foreign bodies (FBs) is a common task charged to pediatric radiologists. The use of a motion compensated technique to decrease breathing motion on images would greatly decrease overall exposure to ionizing radiation and increase access to treatment yielding a great impact on clinical care. This study reports on the methodology and materials used to construct an in-house anthropomorphic phantom for investigating image quality in digital tomosynthesis protocols for volumetric imaging of the pediatric airway. Availability and cost of possible substitute materials were considered and simplifying assumptions were made. Two different modular phantoms were assembled in coronal slab layers using materials designed to approximate a one- and three-year-old thorax at diagnostic photon energies for use with digital tomosynthesis protocols such as those offered on GE’s VolumeRAD application. Exposures were made using both phantoms with inserted food particles inside an oscillating airway. The goal of the phantom is to help evaluate (1) whether the currently used protocol is sufficient to image the airway despite breathing motion and (2) whether it is not, to find the optimal protocol by testing various commercially available protocols using this phantom. The affordable construction of the pediatric sized phantom aimed at optimizing GE’s VolumeRAD protocol for airway foreign body imaging is demonstrated in this study which can be used to test VolumeRAD’s ability to image the airways with and without a low-density foreign body within the airways.

Off and on for fifteen years I traveled the country to research the life and work of the nineteenth-century physician S. Weir Mitchell. Mitchell is best known as the creator of the rest cure to treat hysteria and neurasthenia, but his wide-ranging interests led him to explore many other areas of medicine and literature. His groundbreaking work with rattlesnake venom earned him an international reputation, and his work with gunshot wounds, burning pain, and phantom limbs during the U.S. Civil War won him the title of the “Father of American Neurology.” Mitchell also possessed an impressive facility with language, and . . .

Results of calculating the sonic boom generated in a supersonic air flow by two bodies (disk and slender body of revolution) are presented. The bodies are arranged one behind the other. The slender body is aerodynamically shaded by the disk. The free-stream Mach number is 2. The calculations are performed by a combined method of “phantom bodies.” By changing the disk position and its size, it is possible to reduce the sonic boom level. Based on the calculation results, the gas-dynamic factors affecting the sonic boom level are described.

Calculations are performed for a sonic boom generated by two bodies (a disk and a thin body of revolution) in the case of local heating of the incident air flow. The bodies are in a heat trail behind the heating region. The thin body is in an aerodynamic shadow behind the disk. The Mach number of the cold air flow is 2. The calculations are carried out using the combined method of "phantom bodies". It is concluded on the basis of the calculations that the level of a sonic boom can be effectively suppressed by simultaneously using the heating of the incident flow and the aerodynamic shadow behind the disk.

An optical 3D sensor provides an additional tool for verification of correct patient settlement on a Tomotherapy treatment machine. The patient’s position in the actual treatment is compared with the intended position defined in treatment planning. A commercially available optical 3D sensor measures parts of the body surface and estimates the deviation from the desired position without markers. The registration precision of the in-built algorithm and of selected ICP (iterative closest point) algorithms is investigated on surface data of specially designed phantoms captured by the optical 3D sensor for predefined shifts of the treatment table. A rigid body transform is compared with the actual displacement to check registration reliability for predefined limits. The curvature type of investigated phantom bodies has a strong influence on registration result which is more critical for surfaces of low curvature. We investigated the registration accuracy of the optical 3D sensor for the chosen phantoms and compared the results with selected unconstrained ICP algorithms. Safe registration within the clinical limits is only possible for uniquely shaped surface regions, but error metrics based on surface normals improve translational registration. Large registration errors clearly hint at setup deviations, whereas small values do not guarantee correct positioning.

Theories of grief based on Freud's “Mourning and Melancholia” typically portray mourning as a disembodied process. This essay investigates the literary portrayal of grief in the context of phantom limb pain, a literally embodied, neurological response to loss. By comparing Derrida's image-based discussion of mourning with theories of embodied habit by Merleau-Ponty and of disability by Lennard Davis, this essay investigates the physical apprehension of loss caused by our habitual engagements with the bodies of our loved ones. Virginia Woolf, Mark Doty, Alfred Tennyson, and Donald Hall portray the physical confusions and discomforts of grief that occur when the griever takes up a habitual position in relation to a lost body. Embodied grief emerges in tangible illusions that, like the phantom limb, memorialize the lost beloved through misperceptions of material presence.

The use of plain radiographs to localize a suspected fishbone foreign body is the subject of controversy. Accordingly radiographs of 14 species of fishbone, impacted in a soft tissue phantom, were assessed by a series of observers from the ENT department (consultant surgeons, senior registrars and house officers). The agreement was assessed by graphical description of the data and tested by a Spearman's rank correlation test The overall results showed that, for the clinician, radiography is very useful to detect the bones of: cod, haddock, lemon sole, cole fish, grey mullet and plaice; useful for red snapper, monk fish, gurnard and salmon; and unhelpful in detecting bones from herring, pike, mackerel and trout The use of radiographs to locate these impacted fishbones can be rationalized in the light of these findings.

This article brings together two concepts, ‘phantom fat’ and ‘liminal fat’, which both aim to grasp how fat in contemporary culture becomes a kind of material immateriality, corporeality in suspension. Comparing the spheres of representation and experience, we examine the challenges and usefulness of these concepts, and feminist fat studies perspectives more broadly, to feminist scholarship on the body. We ask what connects and disconnects fat corporeality and fat studies from ways of theorising other embodied differences, like gender, ‘race’, disability, class and sexuality, especially when thinking through their perceived mutability or removability, and assumptions about their relevance for subjectivity. While it is important to consider corporeality and selfhood as malleable and open to change in order to mobilise oppressive normativities around gendered bodies and selves, we argue that more attention should also be paid to the persistence of corporeality and a feeling of a relatively stable self, and the potential for empowerment in not engaging with or idealising continuous transformation and becoming. Furthermore, we suggest that the concepts of phantom fat and liminal fat can help shed light on some problematic ways in which feminist studies have approached – or not approached – questions of fat corporeality in relation to the politics of health and bodily appearance. Questions of weight, when critically interrogated together with other axes of difference, highlight how experiential and subjugated knowledges, as well as critical inquiry of internal prejudices, must remain of continued key importance to feminist projects.

The level of the sonic boom arising due to local heating of the air flow ahead of a slender body flying at a supersonic velocity in the thermal wake behind the heating regions is calculated. The Mach number of the cold air flow is 2. The calculations are performed by a combined method of “phantom bodies.” It is demonstrated that consecutive local heating of the incident flow in two regions ahead of the body ensures reduction of the sonic boom level by more than 30% as compared to the sonic boom generated by the body in the cold flow.

ABSTRACTSpherical particles are routinely monitored and described by hydrodynamic diameters determined, e.g., by light scattering techniques. Non-spherical particles such as prolate ellipsoids require alternative techniques to characterize particle size as well as particle shape. In this study, oligo(ε-caprolactone) (oCL) based micronetwork (MN) particles with a shape-shifting function based on their shape-memory capability were programmed from spherical to prolate ellipsoidal shape aided by incorporation and stretching in a water-soluble phantom matrix. By applying light microscopy with automated contour detection and aspect ratio analysis, differences in characteristic aspect ratio distributions of non-crosslinked microparticles (MPs) and crosslinked MNs were detected when the degrees of phantom elongation (30-290%) are increased. The thermally induced shape recovery of programmed MNs starts in the body rather than from the tips of ellipsoids, which may be explained based on local differences in micronetwork deformation. By this approach, fascinating intermediate particle shapes with round bodies and two opposite sharp tips can be obtained, which could be of interest, e.g., in valves or other technical devices, in which the tips allow to temporarily encage the switchable particle in the desired position.

The problem of a sonic boom generated by a slender body and local regions of supersonic flow heating is solved numerically. The free-stream Mach number of the air flow is 2. The calculations are performed by a combined method of phantom bodies. The results show that local heating of the incoming flow can ensure sonic boom mitigation. The sonic boom level depends on the number of local regions of incoming flow heating. One region of flow heating can reduce the sonic boom by 20% as compared to the sonic boom level in the cold flow. Moreover, consecutive heating of the incoming flow in two regions provides sonic boom reduction by more than 30%.

Aim of the study A new functionality that enables vertical mobility of the lateral arm of a biplane angiographic machine is referred to as the flexible lateral isocenter. The aim of this study was to analyze the impact of the flexible lateral isocenter on the air-kerma rate under experimental conditions. Material and methods An anthropomorphic head-and-chest phantom with anteroposterior (AP) diameter of the chest varying from 22 cm to 30 cm simulated human bodies of different body constitutions. The angulation of the AP arm in the sagittal plane varied from 35 degrees to 55 degrees for each AP diameter. The air-kerma rate (mGy/min) values were read from the system dose display in two settings for each angle: flexible lateral isocenter and fixed lateral isocenter. Results The air-kerma rate was significantly lower for all AP diameters of the chest of the phantom when the flexible lateral isocenter was used: (a) For 22 cm, the p value was 0.028; (b) For 25 cm, the p value was 0.0169; (c) For 28 cm, the p value was 0.01005 and (d) For 30 cm, the p value was 0.01703. Conclusion Our results show that the flexible lateral isocenter contributes significantly to the reduction of the air-kerma rate, and thus to a safer environment in terms of dose lowering both for patients and staff.

In an attempt to help make humans into more efficient and effective information processors, the engineers of mobile communication systems and devices have turned to touch as an alternative pathway for the transmission of communicative messages. This article traces the goal of using touch as a way to speed up communication from the 1950s experiments with military systems for haptic communication to the launch of the Apple Watch in 2015. Using these two technological milieus as bookends for analyzing the co-constitutive relationship between tactility and temporality, we argue that the ever-accelerating pace of human communication – as seen in the attempts at reducing the latency between sender and receiver through haptic communication – produces bodies that are always on and attentive. Ultimately, the disciplining of time and touch is aimed at the production of neoliberal bodies and information subjects whose skin is utilized as an open channel for attention, communication, and labor. However, as we show by examining the persistence of phantom vibrations and the stalled development of Immersion Corporation’s Instinctive Alerts Framework for wearables, the repeated failures of users to properly recognize and differentiate between machine-generated haptic sensations suggest that this attempted transformation of touch into a communicative sense has persistently fallen short of its disciplining aims.

Remote sensing can be done visually and digitally. one of the advantages of airborne photography data generated by drone (phantom-3) compared to satellite imagery with optical sensitivity is its ability to obtain cloud-free images and freedom of recording time and the displayed area shows clearly defined objects corresponding to land cover. characteristics. To limit the object-based area of this research method applied is Object Based Image Analysis (OBIA).This study aims to classify land cover using highly resolved aerial photography with the help of Object Based Image Analysis (OBIA) technique and calculate the accuracy and accuracy, land cover classification by using Objeck Based Image (OBIA) analysis through examination of field conditions.classifying land cover, the classification includes shrubs, young shrubs, plantations (oil palms), shrubs, mines, open land, roads and water bodies with Accuracy of Overcome 0.86.

The measurement of six-degrees-of-freedom (6-DOF) of rigid bodies plays an important role in many industries, but it often requires the use of professional instruments and software, or has limitations on the shape of measured objects. In this paper, a 6-DOF measurement method based on multi-camera is proposed, which is accomplished using at least two ordinary cameras and is made available for most morphological rigid bodies. First, multi-camera calibration based on Zhang Zhengyou’s calibration method is introduced. In addition to the intrinsic and extrinsic parameters of cameras, the pose relationship between the camera coordinate system and the world coordinate system can also be obtained. Secondly, the 6-DOF calculation model of proposed method is gradually analyzed by the matrix analysis method. With the help of control points arranged on the rigid body, the 6-DOF of the rigid body can be calculated by the least square method. Finally, the Phantom 3D high-speed photogrammetry system (P3HPS) with an accuracy of 0.1 mm/m was used to evaluate this method. The experiment results show that the average error of the rotational degrees of freedom (DOF) measurement is less than 1.1 deg, and the average error of the movement DOF measurement is less than 0.007 m. In conclusion, the accuracy of the proposed method meets the requirements.

Ingested or penetrating foreign bodies are common in veterinary medicine. When they are radiolucent, these objects become a diagnostic challenge, but they can be investigated sonographically. However, successful object identification depends on the skill of the sonographer. Considering that these cases appear randomly during hospital routines, it is not always possible to train all students to identify them correctly. Therefore, the aim of this study was to produce homemade simulations of radiolucent foreign bodies for veterinary student demonstrations that could be identified sonographically and to evaluate the acceptability, applicability, and usefulness of these simulations according to a visual analog scale questionnaire and subjective questions. For this purpose, object models (a pacifier nipple, a toy ball, a sock, nylon thread, and a mango seed) were designed, produced, and immersed in gelatin. To simulate wood splinters in the integumentary and musculoskeletal system, a piece of meat punctured with a toothpick and ice cream stick splinters were used. The type of phantom had a determinant effect on the visualization (chi-square = 36.528, P < 0.0001) and recognition (chi-square = 18.756, P = 0.0021) capability of the students. All of the students answered that their experience with the models could help in real situations. The student responses to the questionnaire indicated that the project was well accepted, and the participants believed that this experience could be applicable to and useful in veterinary routines.

The close connection between creation, theory, and institutions is the starting point for the author’s reflection on the kinds of spaces the latter should prepare. He emphasises that of particular interest are those spaces that are established between different approaches (or rather relationships between the body, the object, and the image). In Reprendre son soufflé by Julika Mayer, the puppet and the actor form a relationship that leaves none of the participants untouched but allows their identities to be changed. Similarly, the puppeteer-dancer in Uta Gebert’s Anubis reveals himself in order to uncover the relationship which links him and the puppet: both exist solely in motion, in the zone of exchange. Bodies and objects, assembled into body-objects, seem to meet by chance in Miet Warlop’s Springville, but in the forefront is the Image, which follows a visual logic in placing the body-objects in different configurations. On the other hand, the space occupied by the body in Yngvild Aspeli’s Signaux is undefined: the actor, his puppet-double, and his phantom limb embody a feeling of strangeness and pain. In the project Anémochore, Christophe Le Blay enables the embodiment of the environment (the wind) in the image of a recorded trace, with which a dancer then engages in dance. Space is therefore something unfinished, something open, undefinable and empty, all of which applies equally to bodies, objects, and images.

Objective. To compare the detection of microcalcifications on mammograms of an anthropomorphic breast phantom acquired by a direct digital flat-panel detector mammography system (FPM) versus a stereotactic breast biopsy system utilizing CCD (charge-coupled device) technology with either a 1024 or 512 acquisition matrix (1024 CCD and 512 CCD).Materials and Methods. Randomly distributed silica beads (diameter 100–1400 m) and anthropomorphic scatter bodies were applied to 48 transparent films. The test specimens were radiographed on a direct digital FPM and by the indirect 1024 CCD and 512 CCD techniques. Four radiologists rated the monitor-displayed images independently of each other in random order.Results. The rate of correct positive readings for the “number of detectable microcalcifications” for silica beads of 100–199 m in diameter was 54.2%, 50.0% and 45.8% by FPM, 1024 CCD and 512 CCD, respectively. The inter-rater variability was most pronounced for silica beads of 100–199 m in diameter. The greatest agreement with the gold standard was observed for beads 400 m in diameter across all methods.Conclusion. Stereotactic spot images taken by 1024 matrix CCD technique are diagnostically equivalent to direct digital flat-panel mammograms for visualizing simulated microcalcifications 400 m in diameter.

Seismic contouring is a unique skill that requires combining the variable nature of the seismic signal with the varying structural styles of rock deformation. The computer is very helpful in producing suites of maps quickly, but it has often failed to incorporate structural styles and faults into meaningful geologic contours. This integration requires a visual image of the evolving structures that can best be obtained by an interpreter’s hand contouring or with an interactive work station guided by an interpreter’s hand. Each of the following situations requires a different approach to contouring and mapping the seismic data: (1) Three major styles of rock folding— (a) concentric folding, requiring smooth, hyperbolic contours: (b) plastic flow, requiring parallel contours and rounded reversals; and (c) topographic folding, requiring equal‐spaced contours and closed highs and lows. (2) Faults—May be difficult to visualize unless they are properly annotated and integrated into the contours. (3) Isotime maps—Should be contoured in the shape of depositional bodies. (4) Phantom horizon and dip maps—Needed when there are no continuous horizons. These maps can be useful as reconnaissance maps for planning programs in frontier areas. (5) Prospect (manager’s) maps—The summation of all previous maps. They must be precise, clear, and simple. They must say, “Here’s the oil!”

Two‐dimensional, fenced 2-D, and 3-D isosurface displays of some realistic 3-D seismic models built in the lower Miocene Powderhorn Field, Calhoun County, Texas, demonstrate that a seismic event does not necessarily follow an impedance boundary defined by a geological time surface. Instead, the position of a filtered impedance boundary relative to the geological time surface may vary with seismic frequency because of inadequate resolution of seismic data and to the en echelon or ramp arrangement of impedance anomalies of sandstone. Except for some relatively time‐parallel seismic events, the correlation error of event picking is large enough to distort or even miss the majority of the target zone on stratal slices. In some cases, reflections from sandstone bodies in different depositional units interfere to form a single event and, in one instance, an event tying as many as six depositional units (interbedded sandy and shaly layers) over 50 m was observed. Frequency independence is a necessary condition for selecting time‐parallel reference events. Instead of event picking, phantom mapping between such reference events is a better technique for picking stratal slices, making it possible to map detailed depositional facies within reservoir sequences routinely and reliably from 3-D seismic data.

BackgroundThe prevalence of psychotic phenomena in confirmed Alzheimer's disease (AD) and their potential neuropathological correlates have rarely been the subject of prospective investigation.MethodPsychopathological disturbances were recorded prospectively according to the Geriatric Mental State Schedule and the CAMDEX. The frequency of these phenomena and neuropathological changes were examined in 56 patients with definite AD.ResultsHallucinations had been documented in 13 patients, paranoid delusions in 9 and delusional misidentification (e.g. the Capgras-type and the ‘phantom boarder’ symptoms) in 14 patients. Misidentifications were associated with lower neurone counts in the area CA1 of the hippocampus. Delusions and hallucinations were observed in patients with less severe cell loss in the parahippocampal gyrus and with lower cell counts in the dorsal raphe nucleus. A decrease of neurones in the locus coeruleus in a subset of depressed patients with AD had been reported earlier. Delusions and delusional misidentification were common in 5 patients with basal ganglia mineralisation, but there was no statistically significant association of these symptoms with the presence of Lewy bodies in the brainstem and neocortex of our patient sample.ConclusionsThese findings are compatible with the view that morphological changes in certain brain areas may promote the development of psychotic phenomena in AD. AD may offer a model for the understanding of pathomechanisms underlying the development of psychopathological disturbances in other psychoses with more discrete neuropathological changes.

AbstractThe aim of the present study is to compare dose distributions and their verification in target areas and organs at risk (OAR) in conformal and volumetric modulated arc therapy (VMAT) techniques. Proper verification procedures allow the removal of the major sources of errors, such as incorrect application of a planning system, its insufficient or cursory commissioning, as well as an erroneous interpretation of the obtained results. Three target areas (head and neck, chest, and pelvic) were selected and the treatment was delivered based on plans made using collapsed cone convolution and Monte Carlo algorithms with 6-MV photon beams, adopting conformal and VMAT techniques, respectively. All the plans were prepared for the anthropomorphic phantom. Dose measurements were performed with TL detectors made of LiF phosphor doped with magnesium and titanium (LiF:Mg,Ti). This paper presents the results of TL measurements and calculated doses, as well as their deviations from the treatment planning system (TPS) in the three planned target areas. It was established that the algorithms subject to analysis differ, particularly in dose calculations for highly inhomogeneous regions (OAR). Aside from the need to achieve the dose intended for the tumour, the choice of irradiation technique in teleradiotherapy should be dictated by the degree of exposure to individual critical organs during irradiation. While nothing deviated beyond the bounds of what is acceptable by international regulatory bodies in plans from TPS, clinically one must be more cautious with the OAR areas.

The Hydra is the most common representative of freshwater cnidarians. In general, it is found in freshwaters on every continent, with the exception of Antarctica. The aim of the present study is to gather biological and ecological data on aspects of two species of Hydra native to Brazil: Hydra viridissima and Hydra salmacidis. Predation and food selectivity experiments were performed to assess the possible predators and the prey preferences, respectively, of the two species. The results indicate that the two species of Hydra were not consumed by any of the predators that were tested, which are typical predators of invertebrates in freshwater: nymphs of Odonata Anisoptera and the phantom midge larvae of Chaoborus sp. (Insecta), adults of Copepoda Cyclopoida (Crustacea) and the small fish Poecilia reticulata. It was observed that the smaller Hydra, H. viridissima, positively selected the nauplii and copepodites of calanoid copepods and small cladocerans and rejected large prey, such as the adults of calanoid copepods and ostracods. The larger H. salmacidis, besides the nauplii and copepodites of the calanoid copepods and small cladocerans, also positively selected the large adults of the calanoid copepods. It can be concluded that both H. viridissima and H. salmacidis are most likely preyed on little or not preyed on at all in many freshwater bodies, as they are top predators in the food chain. At the same time, they are efficient predators, and a positive relationship was observed between the prey size and the Hydra species size. Food selectivity was related to prey size as well as other prey characteristics, such as carapace thickness and swimming efficiency.

Abstract. In the last two decades, the increasing number of electronic devices used in day-to-day life led to a growing interest in the study of the electromagnetic field interaction with biological tissues. The design of medical devices and wireless communication devices such as mobile phones benefits a lot from the bio-electromagnetic simulations in which digital human models are used. The digital human models currently available have an upright position which limits the research activities in realistic scenarios, where postured human bodies must be considered. For this reason, a software application called "BodyFlex for CST STUDIO SUITE" was developed. In its current version, this application can deform the voxel-based human model named HUGO (Dipp GmbH, 2010) to allow the generation of common postures that people use in normal life, ensuring the continuity of tissues and conserving the mass to an acceptable level. This paper describes the enhancement of the "BodyFlex" application, which is related to the movements of the forearm and the wrist of a digital human model. One of the electromagnetic applications in which the forearm and the wrist movement of a voxel based human model has a significant meaning is the measurement of the specific absorption rate (SAR) when a model is exposed to a radio frequency electromagnetic field produced by a mobile phone. Current SAR measurements of the exposure from mobile phones are performed with the SAM (Specific Anthropomorphic Mannequin) phantom which is filled with a dispersive but homogeneous material. We are interested what happens with the SAR values if a realistic inhomogeneous human model is used. To this aim, two human models, a homogeneous and an inhomogeneous one, in two simulation scenarios are used, in order to examine and observe the differences in the results for the SAR values.

Background: A breast-specific photoacoustic imaging (PAI) system prototype equipped with a hemispherical detector array (HDA) has been reported as a promising system configuration for providing high morphological reproducibility for vascular structures in living bodies. Methods: To image the vasculature of human limbs, a newly designed PAI system prototype (PAI-05) with an HDA with a higher density sensor arrangement was developed. The basic device configuration mimicked that of a previously reported breast-specific PAI system. A new imaging table and a holding tray for imaging a subject's limb were adopted. Results: The device’s performance was verified using a phantom. Contrast of 8.5 was obtained at a depth of 2 cm, and the viewing angle reached up to 70 degrees, showing sufficient performance for limb imaging. An arbitrary wavelength was set, and a reasonable PA signal intensity dependent on the wavelength was obtained. To prove the concept of imaging human limbs, various parts of the subject were scanned. High-quality still images of a living human with a wider size than that previously reported were obtained by scanning within the horizontal plane and averaging the images. The maximum field of view (FOV) was 270 mm × 180 mm. Even in movie mode, one-shot 3D volumetric data were obtained in an FOV range of 20 mm in diameter, which is larger than values in previous reports. By continuously acquiring these images, we were able to produce motion pictures. Conclusion: We developed a PAI prototype system equipped with an HDA suitable for imaging limbs. As a result, the subject could be scanned over a wide range while in a more comfortable position, and high-quality still images and motion pictures could be obtained.

Background: A breast-specific photoacoustic imaging (PAI) system prototype equipped with a hemispherical detector array (HDA) has been reported as a promising system configuration for providing high morphological reproducibility for vascular structures in living bodies. Methods: To image the vasculature of human limbs, a newly designed PAI system prototype (PAI-05) with an HDA with a higher density sensor arrangement was developed. The basic device configuration mimicked that of a previously reported breast-specific PAI system. A new imaging table and a holding tray for imaging a subject's limb were adopted. Results: The device’s performance was verified using a phantom. Contrast of 8.5 was obtained at a depth of 2 cm, and the viewing angle reached up to 70 degrees, showing sufficient performance for limb imaging. An arbitrary wavelength was set, and a reasonable PA signal intensity dependent on the wavelength was obtained. To prove the concept of imaging human limbs, various parts of the subject were scanned. High-quality still images of a living human with a wider size than that previously reported were obtained by scanning within the horizontal plane and averaging the images. The maximum field of view (FOV) was 270 mm × 180 mm. Even in movie mode, one-shot 3D volumetric data were obtained in an FOV range of 20 mm in diameter, which is larger than values in previous reports. By continuously acquiring these images, we were able to produce motion pictures. Conclusion: We developed a PAI prototype system equipped with an HDA suitable for imaging limbs. As a result, the subject could be scanned over a wide range while in a more comfortable position, and high-quality still images and motion pictures could be obtained.

Three dimensional (3D) voxel phantoms are numerical representations of human bodies, used by physicians in very different contexts. In the controlled context of hospitals, where from 2 to 10 subjects may arrive per day, phantoms are used to verify computations before therapeutic exposure to radiation of cancerous tumors. In addition, 3D phantoms are used to diagnose the gravity of accidental exposure to radiation. In such cases, there may be from 10 to more than 1000 subjects to be diagnosed simultaneously. In all of these cases, computation accuracy depends on a single such representation. In this paper, we present EquiVox which is a tool composed of several distributed functions and enables to create, as quickly and as accurately as possible, 3D numerical phantoms that fit anyone, whatever the context. It is based on a multi-agent system. Agents are convenient for this kind of structure, they can interact together and they may have individual capacities. In EquiVox, the phantoms adaptation is a key phase based on artificial neural network (ANN) interpolations. Thus, ANNs must be trained regularly in order to take into account newly capitalized subjects and to increase interpolation accuracy. However, ANN training is a time-consuming process. Consequently, we have built Equivox to optimize this process. Thus, in this paper, we present our architecture, based on agents and ANN, and we put the stress on the adaptation module. We propose, next, some experimentations in order to show the efficiency of the EquiVox architecture.

This paper discusses Creature:Interactions (2015), a large-scale mixed-reality artwork created by the authors that incorporates immersive 360° stereoscopic visuals, interactive technology, and live actor facilitation. The work uses physical simulations to promote an expressive full-bodied interaction as children explore the landscapes and creatures of Ethel C. Pedley’s ecologically focused children’s novel, Dot and the Kangaroo. The immersive visuals provide a social playspace for up to 90 people and have produced “phantom” sensations of temperature and touch in certain participants.

We measured substantial differences in Cd accumulation among four species of the phantom midge Chaoborus that were exposed in the laboratory to the same Cd concentration in naturally contaminated prey. The two large-bodied species accumulated more Cd than did the two small-bodied species, in spite of the fact that all species ingested prey at the same rate. To determine why this was the case, we fitted our experimental data to a bioaccumulation model that allowed us to compare the species with respect to their rate constants for growth and Cd efflux, their Cd assimilation efficiency, and their Cd concentrations at steady state. Differences among species were explained mainly by the fact that the small-bodied species assimilated a much lower proportion of the Cd that they ingested with prey ([Formula: see text] 6%) than did the large-bodied species (45 and 58%). A comparison between Cd concentrations measured in Chaoborus species in the field and predictions from the model suggests that differences in Cd concentrations among coexisting Chaoborus species in nature are explained by differences both in the rate at which they assimilate Cd and in their feeding habits.

Background: Electrical stimulation is increasingly relevant in a variety of medical treatments. In this study, surface electrical stimulation was evaluated as a method to non-invasively target a neural function, specifically natural sensation in the distal limbs. Method: Electrodes were placed over the median and ulnar nerves at the elbow and the common peroneal and lateral sural cutaneous nerves at the knee. Strength-duration curves for sensation were compared between nerves. The location, modality, and intensity of each sensation were also analyzed. In an effort to evoke natural sensations, several patterned waveforms were evaluated. Results: Distal sensation was obtained in all but one of the 48 nerves tested in able-bodied subjects and in the two nerves from subjects with an amputation. Increasing the pulse amplitude of the stimulus caused an increase in the area and magnitude of the sensation in a majority of subjects. A low frequency waveform evoked a tapping or tapping-like sensation in 29 out of the 31 able-bodied subjects and a sensation that could be considered natural in two subjects with an amputation. This waveform performed better than other patterned waveforms that had proven effective during implanted extra-neural stimulation. Conclusion: Surface electrical stimulation has the potential to be a powerful, non-invasive tool for activation of the nervous system. These results suggest that a tapping sensation in the distal extremity can be evoked in most able-bodied individuals and that targeting the nerve trunk from the surface is a valid method to evoke sensation in the phantom limb of individuals with an amputation for short term applications.

With advancements in aesthetic medicine, breast augmentation has become a popular plastic surgery worldwide, typically performed using either fine-needle injection or silicone implants. Both carry complication risks from rupture over time. In this study, we aimed to reduce misjudgments and increase diagnostic value by developing an MRI technique that can produce water- and silicone-specific images from MRI scans of phantoms (Natrelle® saline-filled breast implants) and human bodies. Pig oil, soybean oil, and normal saline were used to simulate human breast tissue, and two common types of breast implants, saline bags, and silicone bags, were selected as well, resulting in five materials scanned. Six pulse sequences were applied: T1W fast spin echo (FSE), T1W SPGR/60, T2W, T2W fat-saturation, STIR, and STIR water-saturation. Human body scans were additionally investigated using 3D SPGR fat-saturation dynamic contrast enhancement. Results show that the best way to enhance tissue contrast in images of silicone implants is to apply STIR combined with water suppression, and the best way to enhance saline bag implants is to apply T2W fat-saturation combined with fat suppression. Both offered very high sensitivity and specificity, rendering this method especially useful for distinguishing normal mammary glands from siliconoma.

Purpose: To estimate the radiation fields formed after the passage of high-energy protons through the concrete protection for subsequent radiobiological experiments on animals on this model. Material and methods: The results of the calculation of the secondary characteristics of a field of mixed radiation behind the local concrete with thickness 20, 40, and 80 cm, bombarded by a proton beam of 650 MeV at the JINR Phasotron and experimental estimation of the values of the absorbed dose phantoms of mice irradiated for protection during radiobiological experiments. The calculation was performed by the Monte Carlo method according to the MCNPX program for secondary protons, neutrons, π-mesons, and gamma rays. To verify the adequacy of calculations was performed the comparison of calculated and measured in the experiment spatial distribution of activation threshold detectors for aluminum protection, as well as a comparison of the calculated values of absorbed dose for radiation protection with the results of absorbed dose measurements with a diamond detector. Results: The calculations made it possible to obtain the characteristics of the fields of mixed secondary radiation behind local concrete shields of different thickness irradiated with protons with an energy of 650 MeV and to estimate the values of absorbed doses in the irradiation sites of mice in the radiobiological experiment. The reliability of the calculations was confirmed by experimental verification of the activation of aluminum threshold detectors behind a 20 cm thick protection, as well as direct measurements using a diamond detector. Conclusion: The calculated assessment of radiation fields formed after protons pass through the concrete protection and its comparison with the results of radiation dose measurements for the subsequent radiobiological experiment on animals on this model in the interests of designing protective structures on the Moon and other space bodies, as well as biological defenses on charged-particles accelerators.

Abstract When comparing the performance of different industrial X-ray computed tomography (CT) systems, reconstruction algorithms, or scan protocols, it is important to assess how well the required inspection and measurement tasks can be performed. Furthermore, it can be very informative to quantify image quality (IQ) metrics that can provide insight into the IQ characteristics that lead to the resulting inspection or measurement task performance. Inspection and measurement task performance is determined by basic characteristics such as spatial resolution; feature contrast, size, and shape; random noise (noise due to statistical uncertainty in measurements); and image artifacts. In this report, we describe a modular phantom set that enables robustly quantifying these characteristics and also enables assessing the performance of the inspection or measurement tasks themselves. The phantom set includes two phantom bodies and several insert types that can be optionally installed in the bodies. Phantom body extensions can be optionally included to increase scatter. The phantom bodies combined with the available insert types can comprehensively evaluate all important IQ metrics and inspection or measurement tasks. The precisely-known phantom body geometry and insert location, geometry, and orientation supports automatic analysis of large, complex experiments of multiple variables. This phantom set, with the associated image analysis software, could potentially serve as a general evaluation method for non-destructive testing (NDT) CT.

One of the avatars of the Return of the Dead occurs in Europe as their Procession. It is attributed to the so-called Birth of the Purgatory in the 12th–13th centuries, which reinvested older cohorts of “Phantom-Bodies”, say the Wild Hunt. Related to this “theoria”, motif D1825.7.1. Person sees phantom funeral procession some time before the actual procession takes place, is endowed with D1825.6.: Magic power to “see” who will die during coming year. In spite of their disbelief in the Purgatory, Protestant countries, Scandinavia, Switzerland, Germany, England, etc., currently meet this Procession of the Dead (compare Totenprozession, in Enzyklopädie des Märchens, 13, 820, which forgot more Southern Romance Processions). As precursors of the Reformation (since the 12th-13th century), Waldensians were more efficient in wiping out revenants from their Refuge in the Piedmont Alps. As for India, except an indexing by Thompson and Balys (1958) for a pair of narratives, there was nothing else available. Present fieldwork in Hindu and shamanisic Nepal elicited new data, including ones with death divination. And the least surprising was not that Tibeto-Burman Newar tradition made of the five Hindu male Pandavas a cultural melting “theoria” of five malevolent female spirits, the Panchabhāya, which meets Tibetan Dākinīs. All these Phantom-Bodies’ Processions were not considered as deliration, but as non-delusional reports, as neurally real as phantom limbs. The BRAINCUBUS model framework offers an interface between Folkloristics and Neuroscience, a theory allowing the grounding of such over-intuitive experience-centered narratives, giving fair prevalence, worldwide, to the “4th brain state” diagnosed as sleep paralysis.

Introduction The quantification of heating effects during exposure to ultrasound is usually based on laboratory experiments in water and is assessed using extrapolated parameters such as the thermal index. In our study, we have measured the temperature increase directly in a simulator of the maternal–fetal environment, the ‘ISUOG Phantom’, using clinically relevant ultrasound scanners, transducers and exposure conditions. Methods The study was carried out using an instrumented phantom designed to represent the pregnant maternal abdomen and which enabled temperature recordings at positions in tissue mimics which represented the skin surface, sub-surface, amniotic fluid and fetal bone interface. We tested four different transducers on a commercial diagnostic scanner. The effects of scan duration, presence of a circulating fluid, pre-set and power were recorded. Results The highest temperature increase was always at the transducer–skin interface, where temperature increases between 1.4°C and 9.5°C were observed; lower temperature rises, between 0.1°C and 1.0°C, were observed deeper in tissue and at the bone interface. Doppler modes generated the highest temperature increases. Most of the heating occurred in the first 3 minutes of exposure, with the presence of a circulating fluid having a limited effect. The power setting affected the maximum temperature increase proportionally, with peak temperature increasing from 4.3°C to 6.7°C when power was increased from 63% to 100%. Conclusions Although this phantom provides a crude mimic of the in vivo conditions, the overall results showed good repeatability and agreement with previously published experiments. All studies showed that the temperature rises observed fell within the recommendations of international regulatory bodies. However, it is important that the operator should be aware of factors affecting the temperature increase.

Abstract We have been developing a medical imaging system using a Compton camera and demonstrated the imaging ability of Compton camera for 99mTc-DMSA accumulated in rat kidneys. In this study, we performed imaging experiments using a human body phantom to confirm its applicability to human imaging. Preliminary simulations were conducted using a digital phantom with varying activity ratios between the kidney and body trunk regions. Gamma rays (141 keV) were generated and detected by a Compton camera based on a silicon and cadmium telluride (Si/CdTe) detector. Compton images were reconstructed with the list mode median root prior expectation maximization method. The appropriate number of iterations of the condition was confirmed through simulations. The reconstructed Compton images revealed two bright points in the kidney regions. Furthermore, the numerical value calculated by integrating pixel values inside the region of interest correlated well with the activity of the kidney regions. Finally, experimental studies were conducted to ascertain whether the results of the simulation studies could be reproduced. The kidneys could be successfully visualised. In conclusion, considering that the conditions in this study agree with those of typical human bodies and imaginable experimental setup, the Si/CdTe Compton camera has a high probability of success in human imaging. In addition, our results indicate the capability of (semi-) quantitative analysis using Compton images.

When students learn radiographic positioning during radiography practical training in educational institutions, they adjust the angle of the body using positioning aids and angle gauges. In contrast, radiologic technologists position patients using their own hands in clinical environments. In recent years, virtual simulations have been used to help students improve their clinical skills. However, because the existing simulations use computer-generated virtual environments, students cannot actually position human bodies or anthropomorphic phantoms. Therefore, we developed a simulation using augmented reality to teach radiographic positioning. This simulation allows learners to simulate angle placement by using both hands without positioning aids and angle gauges by looking at a virtual object that demonstrates the angle. The objective of this study was to investigate whether this simulation can be applied as a learning tool for radiography practical training and to examine future development directions for this simulation. We introduced the simulation in radiography practical training. The lumbar spine oblique projection was chosen as a learning task in this study, and an anthropomorphic phantom was used for practice. A questionnaire survey was conducted to collect feedback from the students at the end of the semester (n = 41). The survey results indicated that the students could practice positioning the angle of the body using only their own hands, demonstrating that the simulation could be applied as a learning tool in radiography practical training. Ongoing work will be conducted to develop a simulation in which students can practice with a human body.

Background Accurate identification of foreign bodies (FB) using medical imaging is essential for diagnosis and determining the suitable retrieval technique. Purpose To compare the sensitivity of different imaging modalities for detecting various FB materials in soft tissue and assess the reproducibility of a scoring system for grading the conspicuity of FBs. Material and Methods Five FB materials (plastic, wood, glass, aluminum, and copper) were embedded in a tissue-mimicking phantom. Computed radiography (CR), ultrasound, computed tomography (CT), and magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) were compared using a semi-quantitative 5-point Likert scale scoring system. The intra- and inter-reader reproducibility of four independent readers was analyzed using Kendall’s coefficient of concordance (W). Results Glass was visible on all imaging modalities. Plastic was only visible in excellent detail using ultrasound. Wood was detected in excellent resolution using ultrasound and CT using the default window while plain X-ray failed to detect it. Ultrasound was the only modality that showed aluminum in excellent quality while CT showed it with good demarcation from the surroundings. Copper was detectable in excellent detail using CR, ultrasound, and CT. MRI performance was suboptimal, especially with the plastic FB. The scoring system showed excellent intra-reader (W = 0.91, P = 0.001) and inter-reader (W = 0.88, P < 0.001) reproducibility. Conclusion Ultrasound can be used as the first line of investigation for wood, plastic, glass, and metallic FBs impacted at superficial depths in soft tissue. The semi-quantitative FB scoring system showed excellent within- and between-reader reliability, which can be used to score and compare the detection performance of new imaging techniques.

This essay takes its point of departure from a well known excerpt found in the final pages of Michel Foucault’s text, The History of Sexuality: Volume One. It reads as follows: It is the agency of sex that we must break away from, if we aim-through a tactical reversal of the various mechanisms of sexuality- to counter the grips of power with the claims of bodies, pleasures and knowledges, in their multiplicity and their possibility of resistance. The rallying point for the counterattack against the deployment of sexuality ought not to be sex-desire, but bodies and pleasures. (157) Here for the first time in this text Foucault outlines a tactic for resisting the various mechanisms of sexuality. Yet, how are we to make sense of the potential sexual politics inherent to this claim? Not only does this passage mark a significant shift in the tone and style of Foucault’s writing but it is arguable that his tactic – our point of resistance should be aimed at bodies and pleasures as opposed to sex-desires – is problematic in light of his own conception of power and sexuality discussed earlier in the book. In re-reading the above passage we see that Foucault clearly acknowledges that “bodies, pleasures and knowledges” come to be in and through the exercising of power; so how is it that Foucault invokes the possibility for counterattacks on the level of bodies and pleasures yet not on the level of sex-desire? In plain language, what is Foucault trying to say here?Working with the understanding that power does indeed permeate and operate on the level of bodies, pleasures and knowledges through various deployments of sexuality, what possible contestations, or better yet rupturous moves (according to Foucault’s framework) are only possible within the field of bodies and pleasures and not at all possible within the field of sex-desire? What exactly is this demarcation Foucault presents between sex-desire and bodies and pleasures? And is it at all possible to imagine coalitional possibilities (of bodies, pleasures, and genders etc.) which break from what Foucault ambiguously refers to as “agencies of sex?”In order to properly address these concerns we require a revisiting of Foucault’s conceptualisation of power within the entire spectrum of sexuality, as well as an attempt to think what, why and how bodies and pleasures are a source of resistance for the future to come. If an essential part of Foucault’s project is to contest and move away from simple or inadequate understandings of power surely we cannot read this incitement to counterattacks on the level of bodies and pleasures as a naïve attempt to find an exit to the very networks of power and sex that he himself formulates. In reconsideration of the perplexity of what has become a landmark text in French Philosophy, this paper will advance under the impetus of two registers: one, in the process of retracing Foucault’s concerns with power and the agency of sex in The History of Sexuality: Volume One, and the other, equally cautious in our venture forward in the direction of new "rallying points" of unformed bodies and unknown pleasures. The one I imagine in full view, written with as little ambiguity as possible, the other an eclipse; offering little to words, seeking new coalitions at the limit of other bodies, other pleasures yet to be. First, in order to better understand the stakes of these concerns, let us look at how Foucault problematises power, and secondly how he describes the workings of power in relation to deployments of sexuality. In the opening chapter, Foucault begins by bringing into question the assumption that power operates within the domain of sexuality in a purely negative manner - what he terms the “repressive hypothesis” (Foucault 10). While Foucault admits that power can be restrictive and/or prohibitive it cannot be reduced nor simply understood as a negative force. Instead it is crucial that we examine power in terms of its positive and productive mechanisms. “The central issue,” Foucault writes is “not to determine whether one says yes or no to sex, whether one formulates prohibitions or permissions,” but rather to bring to light the productive forms of power that bring discourses and knowledges pertaining to sex into being. By moving towards an analysis of power which seeks to locate its positive techniques, power and sex come to be situated in a different light. The relationship between power and sex now becomes a generative concern. Further, a concern “to locate the forms of power, the channels it takes, and the discourses it permeates in order to reach the most tenuous and individual modes of behaviour, the paths that give it access to the rare or scarcely perceivable forms of desire, how it permeates and controls everyday pleasure.” Sex is to be understood as the “instrument-effect” (Foucault 48) of power; emerging, as it were in and though the various correlations and divergencies within discursive networks, generative fields of power and disseminations of knowledge. As much as Foucault makes it clear that the type of power brought to bear on sex-desire(s) and bodies and pleasures is of a generative nature and cannot be properly understood in the language of repression and restriction, his analysis of the relation between power and sex can be better understood in light of his discussion of peripheral sexualities in the nineteenth century. In Foucault’s discussion of “peripheral sexualities,” he notes that “the nineteenth century and our own have been rather the age of multiplication: a dispersion of sexualities, a strengthening of their disparate forms, a multiple implantation of ‘perversions’. Our epoch has initiated sexual heterogeneities” (Foucault 37). How are we to understand this claim? Foucault insists one should resist reading this change as a sign of social tolerance or a laxing of the legal code. Indeed there was so-called permissiveness, “if one bears in mind that the severity of the codes relating to sexual offenses diminished considerably in the nineteenth century and the law itself deferred to medicine” (Foucault 40). However, Foucault adds this is not to say that additional forms of power did not come into play, “if one thinks of all the agencies of control and all the mechanisms of surveillance that were put into operation by pedagogy and therapeutics” (Foucault 41). The rise of sexual heterogeneities and peripheral sexualities is not a result of power withdrawing from sex, but instead an “instrument-effect” of changes in strategies of power. Power becomes a productive, mobilising force for the emergence of various forms of knowledge on sex. A proliferation of discourses arise in, around and of sex, making it speak, writing its every move, describing, analysing, penetrating its darkest recesses. What were once illegible or ignored zones of desire are brought into an intelligible light. These new forms of power take hold of sex-desire, bodies and pleasures solidifying and penetrating modes of conduct, bringing into being new classifications of sexual types and normalising codes of sexual behaviour. Power and sex come to invest in each other. Not, as it were to restrict, set boundaries or avoid sex, but instead invest themselves in subjects, bodies and pleasures, “reinforce one another” and thus “provide places of maximum saturation” (Foucault 47). Before we turn back to our initial problem let us elaborate on Foucault’s notion of power “with respect to its nature, its form and its unity” (Foucault 47). For Foucault, it is no longer accurate to think of power in terms of hierarchy, (i.e. through the representation of a triangle, emanating from the top to the bottom) centrality (i.e. through the representation of a center moving towards the periphery) or rule by subjugation. Why? “In general terms,” Foucault argues, “interdictions, the refusal, the prohibition, far from being essential forms of power, are only its limits, power in its frustrated or extreme forms. The relations of power are, above all, productive” (Foucault 118). For Foucault these are negative, subtractive representations of power which nonetheless do exist but only in “terminal” (Foucault 92) forms. Power is not reducible to something that brings about the limit even though it is always in the process of circumscribing things. In fact power is not reducible at all; it is moreover inexhaustible and we should add, chameleon-like insofar as it is manifold. It cannot be thought to have a definitive form. Foucault describes it as a “moving substrate” (Foucault 93) that traverses, penetrates, networks, localises without being localisable and is everywhere in a state of tension. Power is everywhere there are relations of force. With respect to the question of resistance, for Foucault, it is not possible to dissociate power from resistance. Power and resistance are always co-present insofar as power operates with and against (with-against) force. “Where there is power,” Foucault writes, “there is resistance, and yet, or rather consequently, this resistance is never in a position of exteriority in relation to power” (Foucault 95). It might be asked: Is all-encompassing (Absolute) power possible? Can everything be reduced to a question of power relations? Power has no central sourcing power, or unique Origin, it is everywhere, “not because it embraces everything, but because it comes from everywhere” (Foucault 93). The possibility of all-encompassing power is the absolute limit to (of) power. For since we understand power as the instrument-effect of force relations, Absolute Power much the same as Absolute Resistance is the Impossible for power. Power operates with-against. With this said let us return to our initial concerns. Since we understand power and resistances as never absolute, this however does not rule out strategies for resistance. At the end of The History of Sexuality: Volume One, anticipating criticisms of his own work Foucault stages and addresses two questions that will be asked of his work in relation to bodies and sex. First, with respect to the question of bodies, he anticipates a claim that will assume that his analysis of sexuality fails to concede the biological givenness of bodies. In response Foucault makes it clear that “bodies” are not to be thought of as naturally or biologically given. Bodies are not constitutive or an outside, which is then subject to sexual analysis but instead bound, caught up and constituted by multiple strategies of power-sex-knowledge. His history of sexuality is not one of sex on one hand and bodies on the other. Instead it is “to show how deployments of power are directly connected to the body- to bodies, functions, physiological processes, sensations, and pleasures.” Foucault is not doing a history of the Idea(s) of the body “that would account for bodies only through the manner in which they have been perceived and given meaning and value,” but rather a history of how bodies come to be as such, “in which what is most material and most vital in them has been invested” (Foucault 152) with deployments of power.Second, Foucault anticipates that he will be read as presenting a history of sexuality that overlooks the givenness or the centrality of “sex” in human nature. This criticism rests on the belief that “sex” is separable to, but nonetheless the aim of deployments of sexuality; that pure, autonomous agency which is the internal mobilizing force for sexuality. For Foucault, this belief is part of the illusory ideal that is dispersed within our discourses on sexuality, that namely, sex is the truth of our interior, that unique something other, irreducible to bodies and pleasures, the mirror of self-truth. Resistances to sexuality cannot manifest themselves within this opposition between sex and sexuality. It is an illusory grounding. “Sex” emerges in and out of the various deployments of sexuality. It is not an outside. It is not a biological natural. It is the “instrument-effect” of discursive regimes of sexuality that bind sex-desire as bearing not only ones natural source of subjective uniqueness but also the disclosing force of truth. Much of the problems with contemporary sexual liberation movements are based on this illusory ideal. Resistance roots itself in sex-desire. In an interview discussing political resistance to deployments of sexuality, Foucault states: I believe that the movements labeled ‘sexual liberation’ ought to be understood as movements of affirmation “starting with” sexuality. Which means two things: they are movements that start with sexuality, with the apparatus of sexuality in the midst of which we’re caught, and which make it function to the limit; but at the same time, they are motion relative to it, disengaging themselves and surmounting it. (Foucault, Politics, Philosophy, Culture 114-5)This anchoring of resistance within sex-desire conforms to the networks of power and control over sexuality that form these subjectivities as both given and in need of proper legitimation. The problem with resistance on the level of sex-desire is a result of its resistance “starting with” sexuality. Its own sexually determined subjectivities is only challenged in a certain manner which only contributes to a further networking and rooting of its sexuality within matrices of power and control. Even though what are called “sexual liberation movements” exercise strategies of resistance, the agency of sex and its various mechanisms of historical construction will never be overcome simply because its resistance starts and operates within social constructs of sexual nature.So we must ask, why and what are we to make of bodies and pleasures? Do bodies and pleasures offer different coalitional possibilities for resistance to the agency of sex? If we understand deployments of sexuality as both the instrument and effect of sex-desire/bodies and pleasures, our line of demarcation cannot be grounded in accessibility to power – for everything that we have come to experience as “sexual” is part of networks of power-sex-knowledge. However since both domains are gripped (Foucault’s term) by power, why should we assume that there is equality or even a sameness of power relations operating within these domains? Could we not assume channels and techniques of power operate different in each of these domains? And, therefore, if we want to consider the possibility of resistance(s), perhaps we will have to account for the accessible domains of sex-desire (without rooting ourselves within them, i.e. starting-with) but explore its excessible limits – that is, bodies and pleasures yet to be.Judith Butler brings forth concerns of this nature in her essay on the same passage of Foucault’s entitled “Revisiting Bodies and Pleasures”. Of Butler’s many concerns, one in particular is the question of agency. “These bodies, these pleasures,” she writes, “where do they come from, and in what does their agency consist, if they are the agency that counters the regime of sex-desire?” (Butler 14). For Butler, not only is agency a concern but also resources and collectivity. “And who are the ‘we,’” she continues, “who are said to exercise this agency against the agency of sex? What are the resources that counter the regulation of sexuality if they are not in some sense derived from the discursive resources of normative regulation?” (Butler 14). If such a break is possible, which Butler is hesitant to accept, what sort of relation would it take to the ‘overthrown’ agency of sex? How can we ensure against the establishing of new regulatory orders localised within bodies and pleasures? For Butler it makes no sense to divide and oppose bodies and pleasures and sex-desire, because “if the normativity of the latter continues to haunt and structure the lived modalities of the former,” then we might possibly “deprive ourselves of the critical tools we need in order to read the trace and phantom of heteronormativity in the midst of our imagined transcendence” (Butler 18). Thus I agree with her fear that the exuberance of a certain kind of utopianism “works in the service of maintaining a compulsory ignorance, and where the break between the past and present keeps us from being able to see the trace of the past as it re-emerges in the very contours of an imagined future” (Butler 18). Although Butler brings to light some pertinent concerns that complicate any utopian imagination for bodies and pleasures, surprisingly, she makes no mention of Foucault’s discussion of ars erotica made in the middle part of The History of Sexuality, which, I argue, might be the missing keystone we have been looking for in our attempt to understand Foucault incitement to bodies and pleasures. For Foucault ars erotica is one of two “great procedures for producing the truth on sex” (Foucault 97) which draws truth not from desire but the experience of pleasure itself. His definition of the practices of ars erotica distinguish an order of experience manifest in bodies and pleasures that differs from the agency of sex-desire insofar as the organising principle for truth is not sex but pleasure. Moreover it is the emergence of different incitements, other figures of truth that operate not independent of power relations but independent of regulatory, classifiable schemas “geared to a form of knowledge-power” that has its tradition in the West (Foucault 58). Pleasure “is understood as a practice and accumulated in experience” (Foucault 57) lacking recourse to a desiring subject. Both singular (without the necessary invoking of a subject) and multiple (effusive in its intensity). “It is experienced as pleasure,” Foucault writes, “evaluated in terms of its intensity, its specific quality, its duration, its reverberations in the body and the soul,” with effects that bring about “an absolute mastery of the body, a singular bliss, obliviousness to time and limits, the elixir of life, the exile of death and its threats” (Foucault 58). Here I think we have found the keystone to Foucault’s incitement towards bodies and pleasures. In his description of ars erotica there is no discussion of sexual subjects, couplings of truth and desire, only an untiring will to carry the experience of bodies and pleasures to their apex; movements of concentration and dispersion, challenging the possibilities of existence to the limit of life and death, engaging the limit by attempting to carry it into the abyss of the outside. Perhaps it is here that we can begin to see Foucault’s incitement to bodies and pleasures in a new light. Bodies and pleasures are resistive insofar as they are productive of deploying not subjects yet to be, but experiences yet to be. Ars Erotica is not to be championed as an apparatus for the replacement of agencies of sex. Foucault should not be seen as "rushing to embrace" (Butler 20) a lost paradise of ars erotica or worse bring it forth as a new regulatory order. Rather he incites the possibility of a singular ethos to rupture the limits of the present with experiences of bodies and pleasures that consummate themselves in the immediate while escaping, or better, remaining in excess to the grasp of that power which seeks to render them intelligible, and thus conferrable to regulation. Bodies and pleasures – whatever we are to make of them – are never entirely inside or outside power relations, but rather traversed at, on, as the limit. Foucault is after this continuous play of limits and new admixtures of experience that result from this liminal play. Yet, what if it is not the entire dismantling of sex-desire “in order to turn to pleasure,” that he imagines or even thinks possible, but rather movements “to experience and re-experience the pleasure of the break itself, the pleasure of continually breaking with that past, a pleasure that can only be sustained if the past does not vanish through the act by which it is renounced” (Butler 18)? Perhaps it is here that we catch a glimpse at a “rallying point” for the break with agencies of sex, however temporary, however micro such a rupture may yield.ReferencesButler, Judith. “Revisiting Bodies and Pleasures.” Theory, Culture & Society 16.2 (1999): 11-20.Foucault, Michel. The History of Sexuality: An Introduction. Vol. 1. Trans. Robert Hurley. New York: Vintage Books, 1990.———. Foucault: Politics, Philosophy, Culture: Interviews and Other Writings, 1977-1984. Trans. Alan Sheridan and Others. Ed. with Intro: Lawrence D. Kritzman. Routledge: New York and London, 1988.

The first uncomfortable twinges started when I was a grad student, churning out my Master’s thesis on a laptop that I worked on at the library, in my bedroom, on the kitchen table, and at the coffee shop. By the last few months, typing was becoming uncomfortable for my arms, but as any thesis writer will tell you, your whole body is uncomfortable with the endless hours sitting, inputting, and revising. I didn’t think much of it until I moved on to a new city to start a PhD program. Now the burning that accompanied my essay-typing binges started to worry me more, especially since I noticed the twinges didn’t go away when I got up to chat with my roommate, or to go to bed. I finally mentioned the annoying arm to Sonja, a medical student friend of mine visiting me one afternoon. She asked me to pick up a chair in front of me, palms out. I did, and the attempt stabbed pain up my arm and through my elbow joint. The chair fell out of my hands. We looked at each other, eyebrows raised.Six months and much computer work later, I still hadn’t really addressed the issue. Who had time? Chasing mystery ailments around and more importantly, doing any less typing were not high on my likely list. But like the proverbial frog in slowly heated water, things had gotten much worse without my really acknowledging it. That is, until the day I got up from my laptop, stretched out and wandered into the kitchen to put some pasta on to boil. When the spaghetti was ready, I grabbed the pot to drain it and my right arm gave as if someone had just handed me a 200-pound weight. The pot, pasta and boiling water hit the floor with a scalding splash that nearly missed both me and the fleeing cat. Maybe there was a problem here.Both popular and critical understandings of the body have been in a great deal of flux over the past three or four decades as digital media technologies have become ever more pervasive and personal. Interfacing with the popular Internet, video games, mobile devices, wearable computing, and other new media technologies have prompted many to reflect on and reconsider what it means to be an embodied human being in an increasingly digitally determined era. As a result, the body, at various times in this recent history, has been theoretically disowned, disavowed, discarded, disdained, replaced, idealised, essentialised, hollowed out, re-occupied, dismembered, reconstituted, reclaimed and re-imagined in light of new media. Despite all of the angst over the relationships our embodied selves have had to digital media, of course, our embodied selves have endured. It remains true, that “even in the age of technosocial subjects, life is lived through bodies” (Stone 113).How we understand our embodiments and their entanglements with technologies matter deeply, moreover, for these understandings shape not only discourse around embodiment and media, but also the very bodies and media in question in very real ways. For example, a long-held tenet in both popular culture and academic work has been the notion that media technologies extend our bodies and our senses as technological prostheses. The idea here is that media technologies work like prostheses that extend the reach of our eyes, ears, voice, touch, and other bodily abilities through time and space, augmenting our abilities to experience and influence the world.Canadian media scholar Marshall McLuhan is one influential proponent of this notion, and claimed that, in fact, “the central purpose of all my work is to convey this message, that by understanding media as they extend man, we gain a measure of control over them” (McLuhan and Zingrone 265). Other more contemporary media scholars reflect on how “our prosthetic technological extensions enable us to amplify and extend ourselves in ways that profoundly affect the nature and scale of human communication” (Cleland 75), and suggest that a media technology such as one’s mobile device, can act “as a prosthesis that supports the individual in their interactions with the world” (Glitsos 161). Popular and commercial discourses also frequently make use of this idea, from the 1980’s AT&T ad campaign that nudged you to “Reach out and Touch Someone” via the telephone, to Texas Instruments’s claim in the 1990’s that their products were “Extending Your Reach”, to Nikon’s contemporary nudge to “See Much Further” with the prosthetic assistance of their cameras. The etymology of the term “prosthesis” reveals that the term evolves from Greek and Latin components that mean, roughly, “to add to”. The word was originally employed in the 16th century in a grammatical context to indicate “the addition of a letter or syllable to the beginning of a word”, and was adopted to describe “the replacement of defective or absent parts of the body by artificial substitutes” in the 1700’s. More recently the world “prosthesis” has come to be used to indicate more simply, “an artificial replacement for a part of the body” (OED Online). As we see in the use of the term over the past few decades, the meaning of the word continues to shift and is now often used to describe technological additions that don’t necessarily replace parts of the body, but augment and extend embodied capabilities in various ways. Technology as prosthesis is “a trope that has flourished in a recent and varied literature concerned with interrogating human-technology interfaces” (Jain 32), and now goes far beyond signifying the replacement of missing components. Although the prosthesis has “become somewhat of an all-purpose metaphor for interactions of body and technology” (Sun 16) and “a tempting theoretical gadget” (Jain 49), I contend that this metaphor is not often used particularly faithfully. Instead of invoking anything akin to the complex lived corporeal experiences and conundrums of prosthetic users, what we often get when it comes to metaphors of technology-as-prostheses is a fascination with the potential of technologies in seamlessly extending our bodies. This necessitates a fantasy version of both the body and its prostheses as interchangeable or extendable appendages to be unproblematically plugged and unplugged, modifying our capabilities and perceptions to our varying whims.Of course, a body seamlessly and infinitely extended by technological prostheses is really no body. This model forgoes actual lived bodies for a shiny but hollow amalgamation based on what I have termed the “disembodimyth” enabled by technological transcendence. By imagining our bodies as assemblages of optional appendages, it is not far of a leap to imagine opting out of our bodies altogether and using technological means to unfasten our consciousness from our corporeal parts. Alison Muri points out that this myth of imminent emancipation from our bodies via unity with technology is a view that has become “increasingly prominent in popular media and cultural studies” (74), despite or perhaps because of the fact that, due to global overpopulation and wasteful human environmental practices, “the human body has never before been so present, or so materially manifest at any time in the history of humanity”, rendering “contradictory, if not absurd, the extravagantly metaphorical claims over the past two decades of the human body’s disappearance or obsolescence due to technology” (75-76). In other words, it becomes increasingly difficult to speak seriously about the body being erased or escaped via technological prosthetics when those prosthetics, and our bodies themselves, continue to proliferate and contribute to the piling up of waste and pollution in the current Anthropocene. But whether they imply smooth couplings with alluring technologies, or uncoupling from the body altogether, these technology-as-prosthesis metaphors tell us very little about “prosthetic realities” (Sun 24). Actual prosthetic realities involve learning curves; pain, frustrations and triumphs; hard-earned remappings of mental models; and much experimentation and adaption on the part of both technology and user in order to function. In this vein, Vivian Sobchak has detailed the complex sensations and phenomenological effects that followed the amputation of her leg high above the knee, including the shifting presence of her “phantom limb” perceptions, the alignments, irritations, movements, and stabilities offered by her prosthetic leg, and her shifting senses of bodily integrity and body-image over time. An oversimplistic application of the prosthetic metaphor for our encounters with technology runs the risk of forgetting this wealth of experiences and instructive first-hand accounts from people who have been using therapeutic prosthetics as long as assistive devices have been conceived of, built, and used. Of course, prosthetics have long been employed not simply to aid function and mobility, but also to restore and prop up concepts of what a “whole,” “normal” body looks like, moves like, and includes as essential components. Prosthetics are employed, in many cases, to allow the user to “pass” as able-bodied in rendering their own technological presence invisible, in service of restoring an ableist notion of embodied normality. Scholars of Critical Disability Studies have pushed back against these ableist notions, in service of recognising the capacities of “the disabled body when it is understood not as a less than perfect form of the normative standard, but as figuring difference in a nonbinary sense” (Shildrick 14). Paralympian, actress, and model Aimee Mullins has lent her voice to this cause, publicly contesting the prioritisation of realistic, unobtrusive form in prosthetic design. In a TED talk entitled It’s Not Fair Having 12 Pairs of Legs, she showcases her collection of prosthetics, including “cheetah legs” designed for optimal running speed, transparent glass-like legs, ornately carved wooden legs, Barbie doll-inspired legs customised with high heel shoes, and beautiful, impractical jellyfish legs. In illustrating the functional, fashionable, and fantastical possibilities, she challenges prosthetic designers to embrace more poetry and whimsy, while urging us all to move “away from the need to replicate human-ness as the only aesthetic ideal” (Mullins). In this same light, Sarah S. Jain asks “how do body-prosthesis relays transform individual bodies as well as entire social notions about what a properly functioning physical body might be?” (39). In her exploration of how prostheses can be simultaneously wounding and enabling, Jain recounts Sigmund Freud’s struggle with his own palate replacement following surgery for throat cancer in 1923. His prosthesis allowed him to regain the ability to speak and eat, but also caused him significant pain. Nevertheless, his artificial palate had to be worn, or the tissue would shrink and necessitate additional painful procedures (Jain 31). Despite this fraught experience, Freud himself espoused the trope of technologically enhanced transcendence, pronouncing “Man has, as it were, become a prosthetic god. When he puts on all his auxiliary organs, he is truly magnificent.” However, he did add a qualification, perhaps reflective of his own experiences, by next noting, “but those organs have not grown on him and they still give him much trouble at times” (qtd. in Jain 31). This trouble is, I argue, important to remember and reclaim. It is also no less present in our interactions with our media prostheses. Many of our technological encounters with media come with unacknowledged discomforts, adjustments, lag, strain, ill-fitting defaults, and fatigue. From carpal tunnel syndrome to virtual reality vertigo, our interactions with media technologies are often marked by pain and “much trouble” in Freud’s sense. Computer Science and Cultural Studies scholar Phoebe Sengers opens a short piece titled Technological Prostheses: An Anecdote, by reflecting on how “we have reached the post-physical era. On the Internet, all that matters is our thoughts. The body is obsolete. At least, whoever designed my computer interface thought so.” She traces how concentrated interactions with computers during her graduate work led to intense tendonitis in her hands. Her doctor responded by handing her “a technological prosthesis, two black leather wrist braces” that allowed her to return to her keyboard to resume typing ten hours a day. Shortly after her assisted return to her computer, she developed severe tendonitis in her elbows and had to stop typing altogether. Her advisor also handed her a technological prosthesis, this time “a speech understanding system that would transcribe my words,” so that she could continue to work. Two days later she lost her voice. Ultimately she “learned that my body does not go away when I work. I learned to stop when it hurt […] and to refuse to behave as though my body was not there” (Sengers). My own experiences in grad school were similar in many ways to Sengers’s. Besides the pasta problem outlined above, my own computer interfacing injuries at that point in my career meant I could no longer turn keys in doors, use a screwdriver, lift weights, or play the guitar. I held a friend’s baby at Christmas that year and the pressure of the small body on my arm make me wince. My family doctor bent my arm around a little, then shrugging her shoulders, she signed me up for a nerve test. As a young neurologist proceeded to administer a series of electric shocks and stick pins into my arms in various places, I noticed she had an arm brace herself. She explained that she also had a repetitive strain injury aggravated by her work tasks. She pronounced mine an advanced repetitive strain injury involving both medial and lateral epicondylitis, and sent me home with recommendations for rest, ice and physiotherapy. Rest was a challenge: Like Sengers, I puzzled over how one might manage to be productive in academia without typing. I tried out some physiotherapy, with my arm connected to electrodes and currents coursing through my elbow until my arm contorted in bizarre ways involuntarily. I tried switching my mouse from my right side to my left, switching from typing to voice recognition software and switching from a laptop to a more ergonomic desktop setup. I tried herbal topical treatments, wearing an extremely ugly arm brace, doing yoga poses, and enduring chiropractic bone-cracking. I learned in talking with people around me at that time that repetitive strains of various kinds are surprisingly common conditions for academics and other computer-oriented occupations. I learned other things well worth learning in that painful process. In terms of my own writing and thinking about technology, I have even less tolerance for the idea of ephemeral, transcendent technological fusions between human and machine. Seductive slippages into a cyberspatial existence seem less sexy when bumping your body up against the very physical and unforgiving interface hurts more with each keystroke or mouse click. The experience has given me a chronic injury to manage carefully ever since, rationing my typing time and redoubling my commitment to practicing embodied theorising about technology, with attention to sensation, materiality, and the way joints (between bones or between computer and computant) can become points of inflammation. Although pain is rarely referenced in the myths of smooth human and technological incorporations, there is much to be learned in acknowledging and exploring the entry and exit wounds made when we interface with technology. The elbow, or wrist, or lower back, or mental health that gives out serves as an effective alarm, should it be ignored too long. If nothing else, like a crashed computer, a point of pain will break a flow of events typically taken for granted. Whether it is your screen or your pinky finger that unexpectedly freezes, a system collapse will prompt a step back to look with new perspective at the process you were engaged in. The lag, crash, break, gap, crack, or blister exposes the inherent imperfections in a system and offers up an invitation for reflection, critical engagement, and careful choice.One careful choice we could make would be a more critical engagement with technology-as-prosthesis by “re-membering” our jointedness with technologies. Of course, joints themselves are not distinct parts, but interesting articulated systems and relationships in the spaces in-between. Experiencing our jointedness with technologies involves recognising that this is not the smooth romantic union with technology that has so often been exalted. Instead, our technological articulations involve a range of pleasures and pain, flows and blockages, frictions and slippages, flexibilities and rigidities. I suggest that a new model for understanding technology and embodiment might employ “articulata” as a central figure, informed by the multiple meanings of articulation. At their simplest, articulata are hinged, jointed, plural beings, but they are also precarious things that move beyond a hollow collection of corporeal parts. The inspiration for an exploration of articulation as a metaphor in this way was planted by the work of Donna Haraway, and especially by her 1992 essay, “The Promises of Monsters: A Regenerative Politics for Inappropriate/d Others,” in which she touches briefly on articulation and its promise. Haraway suggests that “To articulate is to signify. It is to put things together, scary things, risky things, contingent things. I want to live in an articulate world. We articulate; therefore we are” (324). Following from Haraway’s work, this framework insists that bodies and technologies are not simply components cobbled together, but a set of relations that rework each other in complex and ongoing processes of articulation. The double-jointed meaning of articulation is particularly apt as inspiration for crafting a more nuanced understanding of embodiment, since articulation implies both physiology and communication. It is a term that can be used to explain physical jointedness and mobility, but also expressive specificities. We articulate a joint by exploring its range of motion and we articulate ideas by expressing them in words. In both senses we articulate and are articulated by our jointed nature. Instead of oversimplifying or idealising embodied relationships with prostheses and other technologies, we might conceive of them and experience them as part of a “joint project”, based on points of connexion that are not static, but dynamic, expressive, complex, contested, and sometimes uncomfortable. After all, as Shildrick reminds us, in addition to functioning as utilitarian material artifacts, “prostheses are rich in semiotic meaning and mark the site where the disordering ambiguity, and potential transgressions, of the interplay between the human, animal and machine cannot be occluded” (17). By encouraging the attentive embracing of these multiple meanings, disorderings, ambiguities, transgressions and interplays, my aim moving forward is to explore the ways in which we might all become more articulate about our articulations. After all, I too want to live in an articulate world.ReferencesAT&T. "AT&T Reach Out and Touch Someone Commercial – 1987." Advertisement. 13 Mar. 2014. YouTube. <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OapWdclVqEY>.Cleland, Kathy. "Prosthetic Bodies and Virtual Cyborgs." Second Nature 3 (2010): 74–101.Glitsos, Laura. "Screen as Skin: The Somatechnics of Touchscreen Music Media." Somatechnics 7.1 (2017): 142–165.Haraway, Donna. "Promises of Monsters: A Regenerative Politics for Inappropriate/d Others." Cultural Studies. Eds. Lawrence Grossberg, Cary Nelson and Paula A. Treichler. New York: Routledge, 1992. 295–337.Jain, Sarah S. "The Prosthetic Imagination: Enabling and Disabling the Prosthetic Trope." Science, Technology, & Human Values 31.54 (1999): 31–54.McLuhan, Eric, and Frank Zingrone, eds. Essential McLuhan. Concord: Anansi P, 1995.Mullins, Aimee. Aimee Mullins: It’s Not Fair Having 12 Pairs of Legs. TED, 2009. <http://www.ted.com/talks/aimee_mullins_prosthetic_aesthetics.html>.Muri, Allison. "Of Shit and the Soul: Tropes of Cybernetic Disembodiment in Contemporary Culture." Body & Society 9.3 (2003): 73–92.Nikon. "See Much Further! Nikon COOLPIX P1000." Advertisement. 1 Nov. 2018. YouTube. <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UtABWZX0U8w>.OED Online. "prosthesis, n." Oxford UP. June 2019. 1 Aug. 2019 <https://www-oed-com.proxy.hil.unb.ca/view/Entry/153069?redirectedFrom=prosthesis#eid>.Sengers, Phoebe. "Technological Prostheses: An Anecdote." ZKP-4 Net Criticism Reader. Eds. Geert Lovink and Pit Schultz. 1997.Shildrick, Margrit. "Why Should Our Bodies End at the Skin?: Embodiment, Boundaries, and Somatechnics." Hypatia 30.1 (2015): 13–29.Sobchak, Vivian. "Living a ‘Phantom Limb’: On the Phenomenology of Bodily Integrity." Body & Society 16.3 (2010): 51–67.Stone, Allucquere Roseanne. "Will the Real Body Please Stand Up? Boundary Stories about Virtual Cultures." Cyberspace: First Steps. Ed. Michael Benedikt. Cambridge: MIT P, 1991. 81–113.Sun, Hsiao-yu. "Prosthetic Configurations and Imagination: Dis/ability, Body and Technology." Concentric: Literacy and Cultural Studies 44.1 (2018): 13–39.Texas Instruments. "We Wrote the Book on Classroom Calculators." Advertisement. Teaching Children Mathematics 2.1 (1995): Back Matter. <http://www.jstor.org/stable/41196414>.

The doppelgänger (literally ‘double-goer’) of 18th and 19th century European literature and lore is a sinister likeness that dogs and shadows a protagonist heralding their death or descent into madness – a ‘spectral presentiment of disaster’ (Schwartz 84). Recently the term ‘digital doppelgänger’ has been adopted by the English-speaking entertainment and technology press to refer to a digital image of an actor or performer; whether that image is a computer-generated wire-frame model, an amalgamation of old film footage and artistry, or a three dimensional laser scan of the face and body’s topography. (Magid, Chimielewski) This paper examines some of the implications of this term and its linkage to a set of anxieties about the relationship between the self and its image. According to Friedrich Kittler, media of recording and storing bodily data are central to how many of us imagine identity today. Technologies such as photography and film ushered in a ‘technological rechristening of the soul’ (149). Kittler contends that these image technologies have had an impact on identity by creating ‘mechanised likenesses [that] roam the databanks that store bodies’ (96). In this context the use of the term ‘digital doppelgänger’ suggests some kind of perceived disruption to the way identity and image, or original and copy, relate. For example, a short article in Variety, ‘Garner finds viewing her digital doppelgänger surreal’, promotes the release of the videogame version of the television show Alias. But instead of the usual emphasis on the entertainment value of the game and its potential to extend the pleasures of the televisual text, this blurb focuses on the uncanniness of an encounter between the show’s lead, Jennifer Garner, and the digitally animated game character modelled from her features (Fritz 2003). An actor’s digital likeness can be made to perform actions that are beyond the will or physicality of the actor themselves. Such images have a variety of uses. In action cinema the digital likeness often replaces the actor’s stunt double, removing much of the risk previously borne by the human body in filming explosions, car chases and acrobatic leaps. Through its multiplication or manipulation the digital doppelgänger can expand the performative limits of the actor’s body and face. These figures also have an important role in video game versions of popular action or science fiction films such as the Wachowski brothers’ Matrix trilogy. The digital doppelgänger therefore extends the capabilities of the human performer’s image, bestowing ‘superhuman’ qualities and granting it entry to interactive media forms. The most serendipitous use of these images, however, is in the completion of films where an actor has died in mid-production, as when, for instance, Oliver Reed famously passed on during the filming of Ridley Scott’s Gladiator. In such cases the image literally substitutes for the once-living; its digitally animated gestures and expressions filling in for an inanimate body that can express and gesture no longer and never will again. The history of doppelgängers and doubles, you see, is intimately bound up with human mortality and the origins of image making. According to Otto Rank, the earliest connotations of the double in Indo-European lore were benign, entailing the immortality of the self. This incarnation stems from animistic beliefs in the manifestation of the soul in shadows, reflections and images (49-77) and is intimately connected to the magical origins of figurative representation. Andre Bazin argues that the most enduring form of image magic has been that concerned with rendering the subject immortal. In his essay ‘The Ontology of the Photographic Image’, he emphasises that the basic psychological impulse beneath the origins of the plastic arts was a desire to snatch mortal things from the indifferent flow of time – to cheat death through the creation of a substitute, a double, for the living body (9). However, by the post-Enlightenment era, Western belief in the preservative powers of the double had eroded, and subsequently, the meaning of this figure in folktales and literature came to be inverted. The double or doppelgänger became a spectral projection of the self, an ‘uncanny harbinger of death’ (Freud 324-5). Meanwhile, even as the haunted image persists as a motif in short stories, novels and film, rationally: No one believes any longer in the ontological identity of model and image, but all are agreed that the image helps us to remember the subject and to preserve him from a second spiritual death (Bazin 9). Photographic and filmic images have aided Western cultures in keeping the dead in view, saving them from being totally forgotten. These images are filled in or animated by the subjective memory of the viewer. The digital likeness, however, is birthed in a computer and made to gesture in the performer’s stead, promising not just a ‘technological rechristening of the soul’, but the possibility of future career resurrection. Ron Magid reports: Cyberware president David Addleman is hopeful that all stars will eventually stockpile their data, like the suspended bodies in Coma, just waiting for the day when technology will resurrect them for as yet undreamed-of projects. (Magid) This reference to the 1970s horror film, Coma, with its connotations of lifeless bodies and sinister scientific procedures, brings to mind unconscious forms, zombies awaiting resurrection, an actor’s image as puppet, a mindless figure forced to gesture at the control of another. These are fears of decorporealised detachment from one’s own likeness. It is a fear of the image being in exile from its referent, being endowed with the semblance of life though digital processes. In this fear we can hear the echoes of earlier anxieties about the double. But these fears also revisit earlier responses to the cinematic recording of the human image, ones that now may seem quaint to us in a culture where people fantasise of becoming media celebrities and indeed queue in their thousands for the chance. To put this into some historical perspective, it is worth noting how the figure of the double played a part in some responses to then new cinema technologies in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Yuri Tsivian writes of the unease expressed in the early 1900s by Russian performers when encountering their own moving image on screen. For some the root of their discomfort was a belief that encountering their projected moving image would play havoc with their own internal self-image. For others, their unease was compounded by non-standardised projection speeds. Until the mid to late 1910s both camera and projector were cranked by hand. It was common for a projectionist to lend some haste to the action on the screen in order to finish work at the auditorium early. Early Russian writers on film were well aware of the projectionist’s role in transforming ‘calm fluent gesture’ into a ‘jerky convulsive twitch’, and making the ‘actors gesture like puppets’ (cited in Tsivian 53-54). Luigi Pirandello’s novel Shoot! from 1916 dealt with a cinema actress traumatised by the sight of her own ‘altered and disordered’ screen image (59-60). A playwright, Pirandello condemned the new media as reducing the craft of the living, breathing stage-actor to an insubstantial flickering phantom, a ‘dumb image’ subtracted from a moment of live action before the camera (105-6). Walter Benjamin refers to Pirandello’s novel in ‘The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction’, recognising it as one of the first discourses on the relationship between the actor and their screen image. For Benjamin the screen actor is in exile from their image. He or she sends out his or her shadow to face the public and this decorporealised shadow heralds a diminishment of presence and aura for the audience (222). Benjamin suggests that in compensation for this diminishment of presence, the film industry ‘responds to the shrivelling of the aura with an artificial build-up of the “personality” outside the studio’ (224). The development of star-image discourse and celebrity works to collapse the split between person and decorporealised shadow, enveloping the two in the electrified glow of interconnected texts such as roles, studio publicity, glamour photography, interviews, and gossip. Star personality, celebrity scandal and gossip discourse have smoothed over this early unease, as have (importantly) the sheer ubiquity and democracy of mediated self-images. The mundane culture of home video has banished this sense of dark magic at work from the appearance of our own faces on screens. In the context of these arguments it remains to be seen what impact the ‘digital doppelgänger’ will have on notions of public identity and stardom, concepts of cinematic performance and media immortality. Further research is also required in order to uncover the implications of the digital double for the image cultures of indigenous peoples or for cinema industries such as Bollywood. As for the term ‘digital doppelgänger’ itself, perhaps with ubiquity and overuse, its older and more sinister connotations will be gradually papered over and forgotten. The term ‘doppelgänger’ suggests a copy that threatens its original with usurpation, but it may be that the digital doppelgänger functions in a not dissimilar way to the waxwork models at Madame Tussauds – as a confirmation of a celebrity’s place in the media galaxy, wholly reliant on the original star for its meaning and very existence. References Bazin, A. “The Ontology of the Photographic Image.” What is Cinema? Ed./Trans. Hugh Gray. Berkeley & London: U of California P, 1967. 9-16. Benjamin, W. “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction.” Illuminations. Ed. Hannah Arendt. Trans. Harry Zohn. London: Fonatan, 1992. 211-44. Chimielewski, D. “Meet Sunny’s Digital Doppelganger.” The Age (5 January 2005). http://www.theage.com.au/news/Film/Meet-Sunnys-digital-doppelganger/2005/01/04/1104601340883.html>. Freud, S. “The ‘Uncanny.” The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud. Trans. Ed. James Strachey, Anna Freud et al. Vol. xvii (1917-19). London: Hogarth Press and Institute of Psychoanalysis, 1955. 219-52. Fritz, B. “Garner Finds Viewing Her Digital Doppelganger Surreal.” Variety (27 August 2003). http://www.variety.com/index.asp?layout=upsell_article&articleID=VR1117891622&cs=1>. Kittler, F. Gramophone, Film, Typewriter. Trans. and intro. Geoffrey Winthrop-Young and Michael Wutz. Stanford, California: Stanford UP, 1999. Magid, R. “New Media: Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” Wired News (March 1998). http://www.wired.com/news/culture/0,1284,10645,00.html>. Parisi, P. “Silicon Stars: The New Hollywood.” Wired (December 1995): 144-5, 202-10. http:www.wired.com/news/culture/0,1284,10645,00.html>. Pirandello, L. Shoot! (Si Gira) The Notebooks of Serafino Gubbio, Cinematographer Operator. Trans. C.F. Scott Moncrieff. New York: E.P. Dutton and Co.,1926. Rank, O. The Double: A Psychoanalytical Study. Trans./ed. Harry Tucker, Jr. North Carolina: U of North Carolina P, 1971. Schwartz, H. The Culture of the Copy: Striking Likenesses, Unreasonable Facsimiles. New York: Zone, 1996. Tsivian, Y. Early Russian Cinema and Its Cultural Reception. Trans. A. Bodger. Ed. R. Taylor. Chicago and London: U of Chicago P, 1998. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Bode, Lisa. "Digital Doppelgängers." M/C Journal 8.3 (2005). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0507/07-bode.php>. APA Style Bode, L. (Jul. 2005) "Digital Doppelgängers," M/C Journal, 8(3). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0507/07-bode.php>.

i) When I arrived in Aurukun, west Cape York, it was the heat that struck me first, knocking the city pace from my body, replacing it with a languor familiar to my childhood, although heavier, more northern. Fieldwork brings with it its own delights and anxieties. It is where I feel most competent and incompetent, where I am most indebted and thankful for the generosity and kindness of strangers. I love the way “no-where” places quickly become somewhere and something to me. Then there are the bodily visitations: a much younger self haunts my body. At times my adult self abandons me, leaving me nothing but an awkward adolescent: clumsy, sweaty, too much body, too white, too urban, too disconnected or unable to interpret the social rules. My body insists that this is not my home, but home for Wik and Wik Way people. Flailing about unmoored from the socio-cultural system that I take for granted, and take comfort from – and I draw sustenance. Anxiety circles, closes in on me, who grows distant and unsure, fragmented. Misusing Deborah Bird Rose, I’m tempted to say I’m separated from my nourishing terrain. Indeed it can feel like the nation (not the country) slipped out from under my feet.I want to consider the above as an affective event, which seemingly reveals a lack of fortitude, the very opposite of resilience. A settler Australian – myself – comfort and sense of belonging is disturbed in the face of Aboriginal – in this case Wik – jurisdiction and primacy. But could it be generative of a kind of resilience, an ethical, postcolonial resilience, which is necessary for facing up to and intervening in the continence of colonial power relations in Australia? Affects are very telling: deeply embodied cultural knowledge, which is largely invisible, is made present. The political and ethical potential of anxiety is that it registers a confrontation: a test. If resilience is the capacity to be flexible and to successfully overcome challenges, then can settler anxiety be rethought (and indeed be relearned) as signalling an opportunity for ethical intercultural engagements (Latukefu et. al., “Enabling”)? But it necessitates resilience thinking to account for socio-cultural power relations.Over the years, I have experienced many anxieties when undertaking research in Indigenous Australia (many of them warranted no doubt – What am I doing? Why? Why should people be interested? What’s in it for whom?) and have sensed, heard and read about many others. Encounters between Aboriginal and settler Australians are often highly emotional: indeed can make “good whitefellas” very anxious. My opening example could be explained away as an all too familiar experience of a new research environment in an unfamiliar place and, more so, cultural dissonance. But I am not convinced by such an argument. I think that unsettlement is a more general white response to encountering the materiality of Indigenous people and life: the density of people’s lives rather than representations. My interest is in what I am calling (in a crude sociological category) the “good white women”, in particular anxious progressive settlers, who wish to ethically engage with Indigenous Australians. If, as I’m arguing, that encounters with Indigenous people, not representations, cause the “good setter” to experience such deep uncertainty that transformation is resisted, if not even refused, then how are “we” to surmount such a challenge?I want to explore anxiety as both revealing the embodiment of colonialism but also its potential to disturb and rupture, which inturn might provide an opportunity for the creation of anti-colonial relationality. Decolonisation is a cultural process, which requires a lot more than good intentions. Collective and personal tenacity is needed. To do so requires activating resilience: renewed by postcolonial ethics. Scholarship emphasises that resilience is more than an individual quality but is environmental and social, and importantly can be enhanced or taught through experiential interventions (Lafukefu, “Fire”; Howard & Johnson). Why do white settlers become anxious when confronted with Indigenous politics and the demand to be recognised as peers, not a vulnerable people? Postcolonial and whiteness scholars’ have accused settlers of de-materialising Indigeneity and blocking the political by staying in an emotional register and thus resisting the political encounter (Gelder & Jacobs; Gooder & Jacobs; Moreton-Robinson; Povinelli). Largely I agree. Too many times I’ve heard whitefellas complain, “We’re here for culture not politics”. However, in the above analysis emotions are not the material of proper critique, yet anxiety is named as an articulation of the desire for the restoration of colonial order. Arguably anxiety is a jolt out of comfort and complacency. Anxiety is doing a lot of cultural work. Settler anxiety is thus not a retreat from the political but an everyday modality in which cultural politics is enacted. Thus a potential experiential, experimental site in which progressive settlers can harness their political, ethical will to face up to substantial collective challenges.Strangely Indigeneity is everywhere. And nowhere. There is the relentless bad news reported by the media, interspersed with occasional good news; Aboriginal television dramas; the burgeoning film industry; celebrated artists; musicians; sports people; and no shortage of corporate and government walls adorned with Indigenous art; and the now common place Welcome to Country. However, as Ken Gelder writes:in the contemporary postcolonial moment, Aboriginal people have more presence in the nation even as so many settler Australians (unlike their colonial counterparts) have less contact with them. Postcolonialism in Australia means precisely this, amongst other things: more presence, but – for non-Aboriginal Australians – less Aboriginal contact. (172).What happens when increased “presence” becomes contact? His concern, as is mine, is that political encounters have been replaced by the personal and social: “with contact functioning not as something traumatic or estranging any more, but as the thing that enables a settler Australian’s completion to happen” (Gelder 172). My interest is in returning to the estranging and traumatic. Mainstream perceptions of “Aborigines” and Aboriginality, Chris Healy argues, have little to nothing to do with experiences of historical or contemporary Indigenous peoples, but rather refer to a particular cultural assemblage and intercultural space that is the product of stories inherited from colonists and colonialism (4-5). The dominance of the assemblage “Aborigine” enables the forgetting of contemporary Indigenous people: everyday encounters, with people or self-representations, and Australia’s troubling history (Healy). There is an engagement with the fantasy or phantom Indigeneity but an inability to deal with the material embodied world – of Indigenous people. Sociality is denied or repressed. The challenge and thus potential change are resisted.ii) My initial pursuit of anxiety probably came from my own disturbances, and then observing, feeling it circulate in what sometimes seemed the most unlikely places. Imagine: forty or so “progressive” white Australians have travelled to a remote part of Australia for a cultural tourism experience on country, camping, learning and sharing experiences with Traditional Owners. A few days in, we gather to hear an Elder discuss the impact and pain of, what was formally known as, the Northern Territory Intervention. He speaks openly and passionately, and yes, politically. We are given the opportunity to hear from people who are directly affected by the policy, rather than relying on distant, southern, second hand, recycled ideologies and opinions. Yet almost immediately I felt a retreat, shrinking, rejection – whitefellas abandoning their alliances. Anxiety circulates, infects bodies: its visceral. None of the tourists spoke about what happened, how they felt, in fear of naming, what? Anxiety after all does not have an object, it is not produced from an immediate threat but rather it is much more existential or a struggle against meaninglessness (Harari). In anxiety one has nowhere else to turn but into one’s self. It feels bad. The “good white women” evaporates – an impossible position to hold. But is it all bad? Here is a challenge: adverse conditions. Thus it is an opportunity to practice resilience.To know how and why anxiety circulates in intercultural encounters enables a deeper understanding of the continuance of colonial order: the deep pedagogy of racial politics that shapes perception, sense making and orders values and senses of belonging. A critical entanglement with postcolonial anxiety exposes the embodiment of colonialism and, surprisingly, models for anti-colonial social relations. White pain, raw emotions and an inability to remain self possessed in the face of Indigenous conatus is telling; it is a productive space for understanding why settler Australia fails, despite the good intentions, to live well in a colonised country. Held within postcolonial anxiety are other possibilities. This is not to be an apologist for white people behaving badly or remaining relaxed and comfortable, or disappearing into white guilt, as if this is an answer or offers absolution. But rather if there is so much anxiety than what has it to tells us and, importantly, I think it gives us something to work with, to be otherwise. Does anxiety hold the potential to be redirected to more productive, ethical exchanges and modes of belonging? If so, there is a need to rethink anxiety, understand its heritage and to work with the disturbances it registers.iii) No doubt putting anxiety alongside resilience could seem a little strange. However, as I will discuss, I understand anxiety as productive, both in the sense that it reveals a continuing colonial order and is an articulation of the potential for transformation. In this sense, much like resilience thinking in ecological and social sciences, I am suggesting what is needed is to embrace “change and disturbance rather than denying or constraining it” (Walker & Salt 147). I will argue that anxiety is the registering of hazard. Albeit in extremely different circumstances than when resilience thinking is commonly evoked, which is most often responses to natural disasters (Wilson 1219). Settler Australians are not under threat or a vulnerable population. I am in no way suggesting they or “we” are, but rather I want to investigate the existential “threat” in intercultural encounters, which registers as postcolonial anxiety, a form of disturbance that in turn might provide an opportunity for positive change and an undoing of colonial relations (Wilson 1221).Understanding community resilience, according to Wilson, as the conceptual space at the intersection between economic, social and environmental capital is helpful for trying to re-conceptualise the knotty, power laden and intransigence of settler and Indigenous relations (1220). Wilson emphases that social resilience is about the necessity of people, or in his terms, human systems, learning to manage by change and importantly, pre-emptive change. In particular he is critical of resilience theorists “lack of attention to relations of power, politics and culture” (1221). If resilience, according to Ungar, is the protective processes that individuals, families and communities use to cope, adapt and take advantage of their “assets” when facing significant stress, and these protective processes are often unique to particular contexts, I am wondering if settler anxiety might be a strange protective factor that prevents, or indeed represses, settlers from engaging more positively with intercultural disturbance (“Researching” 387). Surely in unsettling intercultural encounters a better use of settler assets, such as racial power and privilege, is to mobilise assets to embrace change and experiment with the possibility of transforming or transferring racial power with the intent of creating a genuine postcolonial country. After all a population’s resilience is reliant on interdependence (Ungar, “Community” 1742).iv) What can anxiety tell about the motivations, desires for white belonging and intercultural relations? We need to pay attention to affects, or rather affects motivate attention and amplify experiences, and thus are very telling (Evers 54). The life of our bodies largely remains invisible; the study of affect and emotions enables the tracing of elements of the socio-cultural that are present and absent (Anderson & Harrison 16). And it is presence and absence that is my interest. Lacan, following Freud, famously wrote that anxiety does not have an object. He is arguing that anxiety is not caused by the loss of an object “but is fundamentally the affect that signals when the Other is too close, and the order of symbolization (substitution and displacement) is at risk of disappearing” (Harari xxxii). The “good white woman” feels the affects of encountering alterity, but how does she respond? To know to activate (or develop the capacity for) resilience requires understanding anxiety as a site for transformation, not just pain.Long before the current intensification of affect studies, theorists such as Freud, Kierkegaard and Rollo May argued that anxiety should be depathologied. Anxiety indicates vitality: a struggle against non-being. Not simply a threat of death but more so, meaninglessness (May 15). Anxiety, they argue, is a modern phenomenon, and thus emerged as a central concern of contemporary philosophers. Anxiety, as Kierkegaard held, “is always to be understood as orientated toward freedom” (qt May 37). Or as he famously wrote, “the dizziness of freedom” (Kierkegaard 138). The possibilities of life, and more so the human capacity for self-awareness of life’s potential – to imagine, dream, visualise a different, however unknown, future, self – and the potential, although not ensured, to creatively actualise these possibilities brings with it anxiety. “Anxiety is the affect, the structure of feeling that is inherent in the act of transition”, as Homi Bhabha writes, but it is also the affect of freedom (qt Farmer 358-9). Growth, expansion, transformation co-exist with anxiety (May). In a Spinozian sense, anxiety is thinking with our bodies.In a slightly different vein, Bhabha argues for what he terms “creative anxiety”. Albeit inadvertent, anxiety embraces a state of “unsettled negotiation” by refusing imperious demands of totalizing discourses, and in this sense is an important political tactic of “hybridization” (126). Drawing upon Deleuze, he calls this process becoming minor: relinquishing of power and privilege. Encounters with difference, the proximity to difference, whereby it is not possible to draw a clear and unambiguous line between one’s self and one’s identification with another produces anxiety. Thus becoming minor emerges through the affective processes of anxiety (Bhabha 126). Where there is anxiety there is hope. Bhabha refers to this as anxious freedom. The subject is painfully aware of her indeterminacy. Yet this is where possibility lies, or as Bhabha writes, there is no access to minority politics without a painful “bending” toward freedom (130). In the antagonism is the potential to be otherwise, or create an anti-colonial future. Out of the disturbance might emerge resilient postcolonial subjects.v) The intercultural does not just amplify divisions and difference. In an intercultural setting bodies are mingling and reacting to affective dimensions. It is the radical openness of the body that generates potential for change but also unsettles, producing the anxious white body. Anxiety gets into our bodies and shakes us up, alters self-understanding and experience. Arguably, these are experimental spaces that hold the potential for cultural interventions. There is no us and them; me here and you over there. Affect, the intensity of anxiety, as Moira Gatens writes, leads us to “question commonsense notions of privacy or ‘integrity’ of bodies through exposing the breaches on the borders between self and other evidenced by the contagious ‘collective’ affects” (115). Is it the breaches of borders that instigate anxiety? It can feel like something else, foreign, has taken possession of one’s body. What could be very unsettling about affect, Elspeth Probyn states, is it “radically disturbs different relations of proximity: to our selves, bodies, and pasts” (85). Our demarcations and boundaries are intruded upon.My preoccupation is in testing the double role that anxiety is playing: both reproducing distinctions and also perforating boundaries. I am arguing that ethical and political action takes place through developing a deep understanding of both the reproduction and breach, and in so doing, I “seek to generate new ways of thinking about how we relate to history and how we wish to live in the present” (Probyn 89). In this sense, following scholars of affect and emotion, I want to rework the meaning of anxiety and how it is experienced: to shake up the body or rather to generate an ethical project from the already shaken body. Different affects, as Probyn writes, “make us feel, write, think and act in different ways” (74). What is shaken up is the sense of one’s own body – integrity and boundedness – and with it how one relates to and inhabits the world. What is my body and how does it relate to other bodies? The inside and outside distinction evaporates. Resilience is a necessary attribute, or skill, to resist the lure of readily available cultural resistances.I am writing a book about progressive white women’s engagement with Indigenous people and politics, and the anxiety that ensues. The women I write about care. I do not doubt that: I am not questioning her as an individual. But I am intrigued by what prevents settler Australians from truly grappling with Indigenous conatus? After all, “good white women” want social justice. I am positing that settler anxiety issues from encountering the materiality of Indigenous life: or perhaps more accurately when the imaginary confronts the material. Thus anxiety signals the potential to experience ethical resilience in the messy materiality of the intercultural.By examining anxiety that circulates in intercultural spaces, where settlers are pulled into the liveliness of social encounters, I am animated by the possibility of disruptions to the prevailing order of things. My concern with scholarship that examines postcolonial anxiety is that much of it does so removed from the complexity of immersive engagement. To do so, affords a unifying logic and critique, which limits and contains intercultural encounters, yet settlers are moved, impressed upon, and made to feel. If one shifts perspective to immanent interactions, messy materialities, as Danielle Wyatt writes, one can see where ways of relating and belonging are actively and invariably (re)constructed (188). My interest is in the noisy and unruly processes, which potentially disrupt power relations. My wager is that anxiety reveals the embodiment of colonialism but it is also an opening, a loosening to a greater capacity to affect and be affected. Social resilience is about embracing change, developing positive interdependence, and seeing disturbance as an opportunity for development (Wilson). We have the assets; we just need the will.References Anderson, Ben, and Paul Harrison. 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