Journal articles on the topic 'Pinnacles Mine'

Every year, a new cache of medical students is baptized into this ageless art, and with this distinction comes a ceremonial distribution of the white coat. I was exuberant when I received mine—how beautiful! The thick cords of fabric are so neatly woven, reminiscent of chain mail armor worn by Lancelot and his peers…. Yes, this is a suit of armor, my impervious battle dress against the foes of Disease and Illness. It is replete with knowledge, seething with confidence, keen in choice of diagnosis and treatment—a great garment of ritual and power no different than Merlin's robe or the shield of Constantine. The brilliant white threads reflect purity of heart and clarity of mind, illuminating the nature of human condition. With this armament, we saw ourselves as the natural optimistic extension of our time—purveyors of medical manifest destiny. I was confident a true understanding of humanity hinged on my education. What an astonishing machine, this Man creature! So intricate, so functionally efficient, so synergistic, the ultimate holistic wonder. And how very reasonable for such a pinnacle in the scheme of natural history to have insight regarding his mechanics, that he might tinker and prod, cut a bit here and there, a tincture of chemical now or again, polishing up the imperfections and peccadillos inherent in producing 6,000,000,000 copies of something, anything.

"Music" is a unique creation of the universe, which transmits the senses of the conscious mind of the human being in the pastoral world to create a feeling of unlimited bliss.Innovation in music is the transmission of the emotion of the mind, which is influenced by the environment. Along with the creation and development of the universe, the expression of intensely sensitive feelings of the human mind was communicated in the form of nad (music). Brahm Swaroop "Nad" has contributed significantly in setting the human mind to the pinnacle of divinity by enlightening the Veda knowledge. ‘‘संगीत‘‘ सृष्टि की अनुपम कृति है,जो चराचर जगत में मानव केे चेतन मन की संवेदनाओं को संचारित करके असीम आनंद की अनुभूति कराती है।संगीत में नवाचार मन के संवेग का संचरण है,जो वातावरण से प्रभावित होता है। सृष्टि की रचना एवं विकास के साथ साथ ही मानव मन की तीव्र संवेदनशील भावनाओं की अभिव्यक्ति का संचार नाद(संगीत) के रूप में हुआ। ब्रह्म स्वरूप ”नाद” ने वेद ज्ञान को सामगान से आलोकित करके मानव मन को देवत्व के शिखर पर स्थापित करने में महत्वपूर्ण योगदान दिया है।

Eugene (Gene) Kohn is one of the founders of Kohn Pedersen Fox Associates, or KPF. As the firm's website puts it, he has been responsible for developing ‘a global strategy that has made the firm into a global player’. Some idea of the scale of the operation may be gained from the fact that they are presently working in sixteen different cities in China and that their completed work there includes the world's third and fourth highest buildings (Shanghai World Financial Center, 2008, at 492 metres and the International Commerce Centre in Hong Kong, 2010, at 484 metres). By comparison, their spiralling Pinnacle building, on site in London just a mile from where I meet Gene Kohn, is a baby at 288 metres, though still comfortably within the world's tallest 100. Such league tables go with the territory. So it seems do jolly nicknames – such as Helter Skelter (for the Pinnacle), Shard, Walkie-Talkie, Cheese Grater and Gherkin – whose kindergarten quality belies the highly competitive market they represent for architects and their clients as well as their users. As a business, KPF itself was successful almost as soon as it opened its doors in 1976. The timing and manner of that beginning are revealing. Kohn's partners were both good friends but chosen for different reasons, in the case of Sheldon Fox because he was, as Kohn told me, ’more of a manager, a fine architect but extremely conservative … I thought it would be good if somebody who wasn't like me shared the balance‘ [with Bill Pedersen]

We investigated the acupoint selection regulations and workable core acupoint combinations in cancer-related anorexia (CA) treatment. The Apriori algorithm, complemented by the FP-growth algorithm, was used to mine association rules based on retrieved randomized control trials (RCTs) and clinical control trials (CCTs). We searched the following databases for acupuncture treatment regimens for CA: PubMed, Embase, Cochrane Central, Web of Science, WanFang Data, VIP, China Journal Full-Text Database (CNKI), and SinoMed (CBM). We extracted acupoints prescriptions from the 27 enrolled RCTs and CCTs for analysis. There have been 38 acupoints refined from 27 prescriptions. The pinnacle three regularly chosen acupoints were Zusanli (ST36), Zhongwan (RN12), and Sanyinjiao (SP6). We investigated 10 association rules, and the consequences confirmed that {RN4} ≥ {RN12}, {PC6} ≥ {ST36}, {RN12, SP6} ≥ {RN4}, {HT7} ≥ {RN12}, and {DU20} ≥ {RN12} had been the most frequent associated rules in the adoption literature. Zusanli (ST36), Sanyinjiao (SP6), Guanyuan (RN4), Zhongwan (RN12), Neiguan (PC6), Shenmen (HT7), and Baihui (DU20) would be regarded as acupuncture prescriptions in the treatment of CA.

The studies are meant to determine whether the logo of this multivitamin product has end up pinnacle of mind and to diploma emblem attention, in particular for the people of Sukoharjo who depend on top of mind, logo recall, brand recognition and unaware of the brand. at some stage in the present day corona virus pandemic, multivitamins are predicted to offer correct vitamins for the frame to be proof in opposition to infection and ailment. PT Konimex gives you first-rate C nutrients merchandise to assist hold man or woman health and immunity. on this observe using descriptive analysis, wherein the populace used is the Sukoharjo community group. The sample data used in this take a look at were 100 respondents. The studies technique used is a non-chance sampling method, particularly comfort sampling. resources of information used are number one records and secondary information in which we get the data from people and unique occasions which have been further processed. The purpose that may be advocate by the writer on this take a look at is to measure how high the brand cognizance of shoppers, mainly the Sukoharjo community, as the concern of multivitamin merchandise and with the aid of way of maintaining a top of mind stage.

Slavery and racism are complicated, contentious issues that have been intimately interwoven elements of American society. Slaves have suffered a wide range of wounds and afflictions at the hands of others, including members of their own community and family. Slavery and racism in Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is a fundamental concern for Huck, a white boy of thirteen who observes the pinnacle of injustice and cruelty, which is ethically repugnant and blatantly anti-human. In the novel, Huck Finn’s struggle with his inner conscience due to the heinous practice of slavery, the harsh realities of white culture, and their cold-hearted attitude have horrible implications on his heart and mind. This research emphasizes the necessity for deliberate moral reflection on how a white person’s honesty and kindness became a justification for his enslavement among the white community and also how he fights against the atrocities of the whites.

The idea of the unity of man and the Universe was developed in many philosophical and religious teachings. However, the first who scientifically substantiates it was Alfred Russel Wallace (1823—1913) — a British naturalist, traveler, geographer, biologist, and anthropologist of the XIX century. He noted that the idea of the «plurality of worlds» of Copernicus, where the Earth is one of the many planets inhabited by intelligent beings, is not supported by observations. Wallace substantiated that the possibility of the emergence of life and mind in the universe depends on many interrelated conditions. He concluded that «any planet in the solar system other than our Earth is uninhabited» and «almost as likely that no other Sun has inhabited planets». Wallace held the view that humans were the only intelligent beings and could have originated exclusively on Earth as the pinnacle of the evolution of the Universe. The researcher admitted the possibility of the existence of other worlds with other physical laws but believed that only in ours it was possible for a man to appear, and that is why our Universe arose.

ABSTRACT Man has always been ignorant of the plethora of natural products that are available around him. In his search for newer treatment modalities in medicine, he has reached back to the source of several vital materials that are available in nature. These natural products are not only highly bioactive, they also have several interactions that are synergistic in preventing infections, promoting healing and preserving health in total. Bees have been around much longer than humans and the pinnacle of their evolution has been the development of honey. This multifaceted material is vital to the survival of the species and plays a major role in the physiologic development and maturity of bees. Man has been harvesting this natural resource of infinite applications and has been using it in traditional medicine since time immemorial. Developments in science have led to us having a better understanding of the ingredients present in bee products and it has generated great interest in its use for medical treatment. This is the field of apitherapy. Its applications in oral diseases are not widely known. It has certainly shown great promise as being the next gold mine of therapeutic medicines that are useful in managing many oral diseases. How to cite this article Ara SA, Ashraf S, Arora V, Rampure P. Use of Apitherapy as a Novel Practice in the Management of Oral Diseases: A Review of Literature. J Contemp Dent 2013; 3(1):25-31.

The formation and the establishment of the United States firmly adheres to two beliefs of the American dream and the American west. Though the American dream was part of American culture from its beginning, the other one became the driving force of American culture in the second part of the twentieth century when Sam Shepard began his career as a playwright. During this time, American theater emerged into a main arena for the presentation of the American west. Nevertheless, Shepard attempted to avoid playing with the duality of reality and illusion in his presentation of the American west when he put forward his characters to face and experience the world to then discover their selves. At the pinnacle of his success, he wrote A Lie of the Mind, a play that is filled with heroines who would leave the violent world of men to change their destinies. As such, Shepard endeavored to free their selves and flow them to experience a new world. Likewise, Shepard’s contemporary American philosopher, Richard Rorty, believed in the importance of self and the necessity of its redescription to create his ideal society. However, hopeless to find a philosophy model, he lends to literature to find his liberal ironist. On this account, the following study is not only to provide Sam Shepard as a liberal ironist in Rorty’s term but also to reveal certain puzzling features in Shepard’s A Lie of Mind, not least of which is the reason why his female characters blow the world of the American west to search for a new world.

Here we present a case of pseudotumor following total hip arthroplasty (THA) that resulted in a circulatory disturbance caused by compression of the femoral vasculature. A 63-year-old man presented with pain, swelling, and redness of the left leg 5 years after primary metal-on-metal THA using the AML-Plus stem, Pinnacle® acetabular cup, and 36 mm diameter Ultamet™ metal head system (DePuy Orthopaedics, Warsaw, IN). Enhanced computed tomography and magnetic resonance imaging revealed a large cystic lesion extending from the left hip anteriorly to the intrapelvic region and compressing the left femoral vessels. Percutaneous puncture of the lesion yielded a dark red aspirate and the patient was diagnosed to have a pseudotumor causing compression of the femoral vessels. We performed revision surgery to replace the metal head and metal liner with a smaller ceramic head and polyethylene liner without removal of the stem. Corrosion of the head-neck junction was identified intraoperatively with no obvious wear on the bearing surfaces. The left leg swelling and redness improved immediately postoperatively. A large pseudotumor should be kept in mind as a cause of vascular compression with unilateral leg edema in a patient who has undergone metal-on-metal THA.

Looking back into the “dark ages” of medicine, we can see a fast evolving armamentarium of medications to treat various illnesses, including those afflicting the brain. Up until the past hundred years or so, there has been little in the way of appropriate psychiatric medication therapy. With the discovery of stimulants and opiates, a new door opened into the science of psychopharmaceuticals. Fifty years ago, the greatest leap in psychiatric medicine occurred serendipitously in the form of antipsychotics and antidepressants, some of which we still use today. The learning curve from then has been on a logarithmic scale, and we are quickly approaching the pinnacle of the curve. However, human nature has yet to catch up to scientific progress, as the stigma of mental illness is often reflected in cultural biases and nonparity with insurance benefits for medical care. Because of today’s diminishing medical and psychiatric health care benefits, we strive for superior and quicker acting drugs for these costly illnesses. The best discoveries lay ahead in the 21st century as the potential of Substance P antagonists, antiglucocorticoids, and N-methyl-D-aspartate receptor antagonists (to name a few) are explored for their benefit in depression. Until then, we strive to understand the inner workings of the human mind to heal those with psychiatric illnesses.

In the last decades of the 20th century we have seen media theories and cognitive sciences grow, mature and reach their pinnacles by analysing, each from their own disciplinary perspective, two of the same core phenomena: that of media as the environment, transmitter and creator of stimuli, and that of embodied human mind as the stimuli receiver, interpreter, experiencer, and also how both are affected by each other. Even though treating a range of very similar problems and coming to similar conclusions, this still has not brought these two disciplines closer together or resulted in their interdisciplinary approach. They did coalesce in regards to traditional media such as film, but more points of connection are needed for untangling interactive and immersive media environments and their effects on human cognition, action, and perception. With the rise of VR and VR-like systems, especially as they start to evolve into the Metaverse as their main platform of interconnectivity, the tissue of the body becomes almost physically intertwined with that of the virtual surrounding it inhabits through immersion. Simultaneously, the interest in these disciplines arises anew, and especially the need to use their concepts in an interdisciplinary way. This paper?s main interest is to bring these disciplines together in problematising the position of a physical body and its sensory-motor capabilities and their development within synthetic surroundings as Metaverse and anticipate potential downsides of Metaverse?s uncontrolled growth. We will do so also by looking into Metaverse as an artificial-life-like phenomenon, following artificial-life rules and evolving a completely new ?corporeality?, a body which is completely adapted to virtual spaces. We call this body the Dry Body, an entity sharing cognitive resources with the physical body it is not a physical part of, but has to extend to.

In the present scenario, Banks are all set to add new frontiers by rendering quality services with the harnessed technology and globalised market to reach the pinnacle. Banks as a largest financial service provider, it would be the part and parcel of its life to outclass in its service delivery and also to receive both the positive and negative feedback. Banks, if not a good service provider, would get hindered with its progress. Nowadays, due to the diversity of population, Customers are having good education and sound knowledge about most of the aspects, and their tough competition among their counterpart are heavy, thus leading the Banks to be on par with it. If the Banks are not at the forefront in rendering quality services as per their expectations, customers would divert their mind towards other service providers, who would have great goodwill in the market. Through this study we would understand the significance of grievance redressal mechanism in Banking and the working of it towards the customers through a particular scheme provided by RBI called the Banking Ombudsman Scheme. The result of this study found that Banking Ombudsman verifies the matters on the viewpoint of both the Bankers and the Customers and supports the one who are on the right way adhering to the principles and procedures as per the Banking guidelines provided by RBI. KEYWORDS: - Banks, Banking Ombudsman, Customer, Competition, Grievances, Redressal Mechanism.

Abstract Cancer is one of the main reason for loss of human life across the world. All the medical practitioners and researchers are dealing with the demanding situations to fight against cancer. Based on the report in 2019 from American Cancer Society, 96,480 deaths are anticipated due to skin cancers, 142,670 deaths are from lung cancers, 42,260 deaths are from breast cancers, 31,620 deaths are from prostate cancers, and 17,760 deaths are from mind cancers. Initial detection of most cancers has the pinnacle precedence for saving the lives. This paper proposed a lung cancer detection using Deep Learning based on VEE NET architecture. This was one of the famous models submitted to ILSVRC-2014. Visual checkup and manual practices are used on this venture for the various types of cancer diagnoses. This guide interpretation of scientific images that needs massive time intake and is notably susceptible to mistakes. Thus, in this project, we apply deep learning algorithms to identify lung cancer and its presence without the need for several consultations from different doctors. This leads to an earlier prediction of the presence of the disease and allows us to take prior actions immediately to avoid further consequences in an effective and cheap manner avoiding human error rate. In this project lung cancer and its presence is determined. A web application is developed as a hospital application where an input x-ray image is given to detect lung cancer.

Although many critics see Richard Wright’s Native Son as an American classic novel, it is by no means a master narrative that attempts to provide a mega solution to the problems of the black man in American society. Instead, Wright uses the novel to protest against the naturalistic conditions that emasculate a young black man, Bigger Thomas, in 1930s Chicago to commit two murders, one accidentally and the other by design, for which he is sentenced to die. In his poem, “A Dream Deferred,” Langston Hughes poses a mind-bogglingly critical question: “What Happens to a Dream Deferred?” Thomas, the disturbed protagonist in Wright’s Native Son, has an ambition of becoming a pilot, but fear effaces Thomas’s dream of a better future for him and his mother and presumably, defers his dream to a future date. However, his dream turns into a nightmare, and instead of a pilot, he becomes a cold-blooded murderer. The tension between hope and fear, optimism and pessimism in Thomas is a stark antinomy that should have provided the protagonist a liminal space within which to operate toward a successful resolution of his internal conflict. In this essay, I argue that Thomas’s hope could have propelled him to the pinnacle of success on the scala d’amore to achieve entelechy, but instead, he chooses the antithetical direction, due to his dearth confidence in the system, and that turns out to be tragic.

Although Vojislav Vučković (1910-1942) did not leave an elaborate and selfcontained theoretical system behind, his creativity can nevertheless be perceived from a relatively integral perspective, thanks to collections of papers published posthumously. It should be kept in mind that our great composer lost his life at the pinnacle of productivity; hence, we can safely say that his work was interrupted in every sense of the word, and thus left somewhat fragmentary. There is a very significant difference between the views on problem solving he advocated in his early essays and those he promoted before and during the war, given that the timespan involved is just ten years (1932-1942). Based on these theoretical wanderings, one could assume that Vučković was following the intensive changes on the West European theoretical stage of his time, endeavouring to shape his standpoints in a dialogue with the main theoretical currents. In this text, I will try to highlight the possible connections between some of Vuþkoviügs views and the theories which left an important imprint on the cultural life of Europe between the wars, such as the theory of reflection by Todor Pavlov (1890-1977) and critical (aesthetical) theory by Theodor Adorno (1903-1969) and Walter Benjamin (1892-1940). It should be said that Vučković used Pavlov's theory directly, but in a quite distinctive way which, alongside the theoretical trends of the upcoming generation of Marxist thinkers, was close to the critical standpoints of distinguished members of the Frankfurt School, who in those years, like Vučković, were writing new chapters of the history of aesthetics

It takes a bold, innovative mind to publish an exercise in speculative evolution pertaining to an alternative timeline. Dale Russell’s studies of the troodontid Stenonychosaurus and of ornithomimid theropods, published in 1969 and 1972, inspired him to consider the possibility that some theropod dinosaur lineages might have given rise to big-brained species had they never died out. By late 1980, Russell had considered the invention of a hypothetical descendant of Stenonychosaurus dubbed the “dinosauroid”. There is likely no specific inspiration for the dinosauroid given Russell’s overlapping areas of interest, but his correspondence with Carl Sagan and his involvement in the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence program were likely of special influence. The early-1980s creation of a life-size Stenonychosaurus model with Ron Séguin gave Russell the impetus to bring the dinosauroid to life. Authors have disagreed on whether the dinosauroid’s creation was an exercise in scientific extrapolation or one of speculative fiction, and on whether its form reflects bias or an honest experiment: Russell justified his decisions on the basis of the dinosauroid’s anatomy being adaptive and linked to efficiency, but he also stated or implied that the human form may be considered a predictable evolutionary outcome among big-brained organisms, and expressed a preference for directionist views that posit humans as close to the pinnacle of evolution. Both derided and praised at the time of its construction, the dinosauroid is undergoing a resurgence of interest. Given that its aim was to spark discussion and invite alternative solutions, it can only be considered an extraordinary success.

The wave of the struggle against “white privilege” and “systemic racism” did not pass the field of classics, the study of Ancient Greece and Rome. Critical Race Theory, broadly recognized in American colleges and universities, presents reality in two colors only. It overshadows and even substitutes any merit by the color – white is wrong, non-white is good. This approach is quite convenient for replacing professional knowledge with the loud noise of mind “decolonization,” disorients presumed beneficiaries and turns out to be new racism, in this case, aimed as discrimination against whites. The spark of its prominence in classics and humanities was given by Dan-el Padilla Peralta, who is a black, undocumented immigrant from the Dominican Republic. He has been supported by white people against the US immigration law all the way up to Princeton, Oxford, and Stanford, some of the best educational institutions, to master Greek and Latin and, finally, teach Classics at Princeton. At the pinnacle of that, he speaks against the historical foundation of this society, what he has understood to be a white man-dominated slaves-holding structure fraught with systemic racism. Positive Discrimination or Affirmative Action programs exist in the USA, India, Malaysia, Nigeria, and other countries as a broadly recognized way to correct historical injustice. Winners, who, in most visible cases, happen to be white, try to pay dues to the retrospective non-white victims of oppression. It is possible to apply Affirmative Action to history classes through acceptance and grading, but not to History itself. Slavery and the dominance of men, which nullify the value of classics in the eyes of fighters against “white supremacy,” were everywhere, while Democracy was in Athens and Rome only. So, to promote truth and our dignity, Classics must stay. Keywords: antiquity, classics, colorism, discrimination, immigration, merit, prejudice, racism, slavery, western civilization

Aim/Purpose: The purpose of this work is to develop more nuanced understandings of the PhD by publication, particularly raising awareness of the retrospective PhD by publication. The article aims to contribute to contemporary debates about the differing pathways to the attainment of doctoral study completion and the artifacts submitted for that purpose. It also seeks to support prospective graduate students and supervisors who are embarking upon alternative routes to doctoral accreditation. Background: The PhD is considered the pinnacle of academic study – highly cherished, and replete with deeply held beliefs. In response to changes in job markets, developments in the disciplines, and more varied student cohorts, diverse pathways to completion of this award have emerged, such as the PhD by publication (PhDP). A PhDP may either be prospective or retrospective. For the former, publications are planned and created with their contributions to the PhDP in mind. The retrospective PhD is assembled after some, or most, of the publications have been completed. The artifact submitted for examination in this case consists of a series of peer-reviewed academic papers, books, chapters, or equivalents that have been published or accepted for publication, accompanied by an over-arching narrative. The retrospective route is particularly attractive for professionals who are research-active but lack formal academic accreditation at the highest level. Methodology: This article calls upon a literature review pertaining to the award of PhDP combined with the work of authors who offer their personal experiences of the award. The author also refers to her candidature as a Scottish doctoral student whilst studying for the award of PhD by publication. Contribution: This work raises awareness of the PhDP as a credible and comparable pathway for graduate students. The article focuses upon the retrospective PhDP which, as with all routes to doctoral accreditation, has both benefits and issues for the candidate, discipline, and institution. Findings: The literature review identifies a lack of critical research into the PhDP, which mirrors the embryonic stage of the award’s development. Two specific anxieties are noted throughout the literature pertaining to the retrospective PhDP: first, issues for the candidate when creating and presenting an artifact submitted for examination; and, second, the diverse, and sometimes conflicting, advantages and challenges for the candidate, the subject specialism, and the institution of this pathway to doctoral accreditation. Recommendations for Practitioners: The advantages and challenges of the retrospective PhDP, for candidates, disciplines, and institutions are summarized especially pertaining to the artifact for submission, to guide conversations between supervisors and potential doctoral candidates. Impact on Society: It is hoped that this work will inform on-going conversations about pathways to PhD accreditation. Future Research: The article closes by proposing an emergent typology of the PhDP and by posing questions for those working in the area of doctoral study. Both seek to progress conversations about routes to doctoral accreditation.

Background. The article is devoted to the study of the personality of the outstanding Chinese composer Zhu Jian’er (1922–2017) – the leading figure of the national musical art of the twentieth century. It is proved that the presented problematic makes it possible to most deeply and accurately explore the musical heritage of the artist. In order to better understand the meaning of the composer’s creations, it is necessary to consider his environment, the stages of creative formation, the characteristics of character and personal qualities, his civic position and the characteristics of his worldview. Most of Zhu Jian’er’s life was in times of great turmoil associated with the Sino-Japanese liberation war, with the rigid ideological line of the Communist Party, with the excesses of the Cultural Revolution, etc. Consideration of the work of an outstanding composer through the prism of his personality became possible only in the twenty-first century, when Chinese society was completely freed from the pressure of ideology, which had long been felt after the policy of the Cultural Revolution in the country. Objectives. The purpose of this article is to systematize the historiographic information about the life-making of Zhu Jian’er in the context of the general trends in the development of Chinese musical culture of the twentieth and early twenty-first century. Methods. The methodology of the research is based on the scientific approaches necessary for the disclosure of the topic. The integrated research way is used that combines the principle of musical-theoretical, musical-historical and performing analysis. Results. The composer’s youth passed in Shanghai, occupied by the Japanese invaders. Great importance to the young man had a twenty-four-hour musical radio program, through which he became acquainted with European classical music. In 1945, the composer became the leader of the musical group of the Corps of Cultural Art of the Suzhou military district, and then the director and conductor of the orchestra. As soon as the country was liberated, the composer returned to Shanghai with many musicians from the military orchestra. He was appointed to the position of the head of the musical ensemble of the state film studio. In the summer of 1955, at the age of 33, Zhu Jian’er enrolled in the graduate school of the Moscow Conservatory. Returning to China in the summer of 1960, Zhu Jian’er was full of ambition and a desire to serve his homeland and people. However, the subsequent years of the Cultural Revolution for a decade deprived him of the possibility of full-fledged creativity. Own feelings receded into the background, the collective ousted the personal. In his music the composer presented the Cultural Revolution – with its false goals, ugly human relations, distorted values, unjustified sufferings. This idea formed the basis of the First Symphony. Many outstanding masterpieces of the composer have won major awards at home and abroad, bringing glory to Chinese music on the international music scene. People close to Zhu Jian’er noted that the composer was rarely seen among friends or acquaintances, he was silent and did not like to talk. He was very thin, and it was not clear how a fiery passion and great creative energy lived in such a weak body. The composer had a mild temperament, he never became angry with people and was careful in his statements. However, even such a kind and conflict-free person, faced with unhealthy trends in the music industry, was embroiled in legal proceedings related to “violation of rights” and was forced to fight for his reputation. But he was not afraid of reprisals, his energy and strong enthusiasm gave him strength. Despite the fact that Zhu Jian’er was always an ordinary person, immersed in his own affairs, he was not indifferent to the events in his country and the fate of the national culture. In addition, he was also worried about the international situation and the influence of China outside. The composer has always been interested in politics and collected information about musical culture abroad. He had his own understanding of the world, and he tried to hold an independent opinion, although, as a real creator, he was often visited by the spirit of doubt. Despite his painful body, Zhu Jian’er was a very tough and courageous man. In the years when China was shook by events that he considered as the national catastrophe, the composer retained loyalty to the power. It was not conformism, the musician sincerely loved his homeland and was ready to die for it, his position was that the mistakes would be corrected and the country would gain strength. These inner experiences deeply touched the composer’s mind and feelings, and were subsequently reflected in his music, being formed the unique musical style of his works. In recent years, as an elderly and painful man, Zhu Jian’er continued, in his words, “to pay off debts” – writing articles for various Shanghai music publishers, editing symphonic, orchestral and piano music, and writing a monograph. In most cases, this was underpaid or completely unpaid work. However, the composer was doing such work, considering it his duty. Conclusions. We can observe important milestones in the life-making of Zhu Jian’er, which radically influenced his multifaceted musical creativity. The outlook and civil position of the musician was formed during the years of the Sino-Japanese war of liberation. This enforced his ardent love for his native land and his people. Since he himself was physically unable to be in the ranks of the army, the desire to defend their homeland was expressed in the military songs by Zhu Jian’er. The critical attitude of the musician to the policy of the Cultural Revolution did not change his positive attitude towards life, but only made him think about the meaning of the artist’s life and purpose in society. The activities of the composer in the team of the military ensemble led him to realize the need for further professional development. The passionate desire to gain the highest stages of composer skills prompted Zhu Jian’er insistently to possess by this knowledge at the Moscow Conservatory and then at the Shanghai Conservatory. The composer honed his skills in the field of vocal, instrumental, chamber and choral music, however, the genre of the symphony in which the musician expressed his civic creed and view of the world became the pinnacle of his work.

Social desire is Associate in Nursing mountaineering brand-new characteristic in online social networks. It positions unique issues and opportunities for referral. Throughout this paper, we typically have a tendency to installation clusteria collection of matrix factorization (MF) and nearest-neighbour (NN)- primarily based absolutely recommender systems (RSs) that check out person social network further to group affiliation facts for social desire belief. Via try outs actual social possibility traces, we have a propensity to illustrate that social network and cluster affiliation records will significantly decorate the accuracy of popularity-based totally definitely preference referral, further to social media information controls collection affiliation information in NN-primarily based techniques. We regularly have a tendency to similarly test that social in addition to cluster data is an awful lot added treasured to cold customers than to huge humans. In our experiments, smooth meta route based totally totally in reality truely definitely NN designs defeated computation-massive tool regularity versions in warmth-vote casting referral, on the equal time as users' passions for non warm temperature ballot 's may be higher strip-mined through device frequency models. We have a tendency to greater suggest a hybrid RS, cloth truely truly one in every of a type solitary strategies to accumulate the maximum dependable pinnacle-pinnacle sufficient hit price

Ischemia in the immature brain is an important cause of neonatal seizures. The exact timing of neonatal stroke onset is usually unclear and the diagnosis delayed until presentation with seizures a few to several hours later. Optimal seizure treatment in neonates remains uncharacterized and the widely used drug phenobarbital has limited clinical efficacy. Developmental profiles of chloride co-transporter expression and function in immature brains have been proposed to dictate the age dependent anti-seizure efficacy of GABA-agonists and this switch is known to occur in P8-9 mouse pups. To investigate the anti-seizure efficacy of the first line anticonvulsant and GABA A -agonist phenobarbital (PB) and NKCC1 antagonist bumetanide (BTN) as adjunct treatment on neonatal ischemic-seizures, we utilized synchronous video-EEG and unilateral carotid-ligation to produce acute ischemic-seizures in postnatal day 7 and 10 CD1 mice. Quantitative analyses of pre- and post-treatment EEGs were done using Pinnacle (Pinnacle technology Inc., KS) seizure scoring and Insight software (Persyst development corp., AZ) for evaluation of seizure grades (clinical vs. subclinical or electrographic) and treatment efficacy. Severity of acute ischemic seizures and incidence of subclinical seizures was higher at P7 and a gender-specific susceptibility was detected in males that correlated with a lag in KCC2 expression levels in naïve males compared to age-matched females, not detected at P10. However, the P7 brains were comparatively more resistant to infarcts unlike at P10 when they occurred frequently. PB showed a better efficacy at P10. BTN treatment 1h following PB however failed to act as an efficacious adjunct therapy and aggravated subclinical seizures in P10 females. At P7, both PB and add-on BTN treatment failed to stop seizures. EEG power (0.5-32 Hz) was lowered after PB treatment at both ages. Post-ischemic down-regulation of KCC2 expression was detected at both ages tested compared to age-matched naïve brains. This study showed that 1. Quantification of subclinical ictal events better evaluate anti-seizure efficacy of treatments and 2. The down-regulation of KCC2 in ischemia may further decrease the efficacy of drug actions that are dependent on a hyperpolarizing chloride gradient for their anticonvulsant action. This decrease in efficacy failed to be rescued by blocking the immature chloride co-transporter NKCC1.

AbstractThe Road of Tang Poetry in Eastern Zhejiang is a poetic cultural route linked by Tang poetry which is the pinnacle of ancient Chinese poetry history, and is a cluster of cultural landscapes where nature and humanity blend together under the narrative of Tang poetry. The research has mined and collated the text information of poems, such as trails, persons, places and landscapes, in 1593 poems written by 451 poets of the Tang Dynasty in Eastern Zhejiang, and discerned the overall route of the Road of Tang Poetry in Eastern Zhejiang based on the spatial location of all the text information in GIS. The spatial distribution pattern of the cultural landscape of the Road of Tang Poetry is analyzed and summarized from four levels: natural landscape, Buddhist and Taoist cultural landscape, celebrity cultural landscape and folk cultural landscape. The complex social network relationship between “poet-person” and “poet-landscape” is shown through the Gephi tools. The four causes and two characteristics of the Road of Tang poetry in Eastern Zhejiang are explained from the perspective of the logic of mathematical statistics.

We exist in a new reality, a global international wherein the individuated strength of the thoughts/mind offers opportunities past our imagination. It is within this framework that notion leading emerges & whilst married to a collaborative nature, makes the not possible an everyday prevalence. "Managerial generation leading with the Future in Mind, building on profound insights unleashed via recent findings in neuroscience, affords a new view that converges management, knowledge & mastering for character & organizational development. This research focus for the destiny of managerial technology within the context of posdc. Moving from the the past, for the few on the pinnacle, the use of authority as the rationale, we now find leadership emerging from all ranges of the company, with understanding as the rationale. Knowledge and management, a excellent of groups, have usually been in dating. However, the good sized intellectual growth rising in the course of the 20 th century?where individuals in any respect tiers commenced to increase their ability to analyze?and the expansion of the capacity for social knowledge inside the interconnected global of the 21st century has propelled humanity into a new age". Knowledge & the responsibility for a way that know-how is used?sits squarely on the shoulders of management at all stages. The destiny will be owned by way of the corporations that recognize & can master the relationships among understanding and generation. Keywords: Direction, Management, Technology, Enterprise, Planning, POSDC, Organization

Over the past few decades, Lean Manufacturing (LM) has been the pinnacle of strategies applied for cost and waste reduction. However as the search for competitive advantage and production growth continues, there is a growing consciousness towards environmental preservation. With this consideration in mind this research investigates and applies Value Stream Mapping (VSM) techniques to aid in reducing environmental impacts of manufacturing companies. The research is based on empirical observation within the Chassis weld plant of Company X. The observation focuses on the weld operations and utilizes the cross member line of Auxiliary Cross as a point of study. Using various measuring instruments to capture the emissions emitted by the weld and service equipment, data is collected. The data is thereafter visualised via an Environmental Value Stream Map (EVSM) using a 7-step method. It was found that the total lead-time to build an Auxiliary Cross equates to 16.70 minutes and during this process is emitted. It was additionally found that the UPR x LWR stage of the process indicated both the highest cycle time and carbon emissions emitted and provides a starting point for investigation on emission reduction activity. The EVSM aids in the development of a method that allows quick and comprehensive analysis of energy and material flows. The results of this research are important to practitioners and academics as it provides an extension and further capability of Lean Manufacturing tools. Additionally, the EVSM provides a gateway into realising environmental benefits and sustainable manufacturing through Lean Manufacturing.

If there is one fact about the Self, it is multifarious and diverse. Paul Ricoeur has dab-bled with the notion almost all his entire academic life. And it seems the understanding of it increases. On one hand the self is fallible - it is limited, apparently singled out as a cause of demise for the person. And yet the Self is also the pinnacle of one’s person-hood, almost a “savior-like” anthem within the person. Again, the notions seem much varied. And yet the Self is crucial to personhood. Ricoeur mentions that the “who” of the per-son is an aspect that the self can explain. And from this one can only imagine how the significant “other” can be just as important as the Self. The person does not move merely by instinct nor impulse; rationality stirs the Self towards liberation from bondage and ignorance. Yet it starts with the Self. Now what does that Self do? To put it succinctly, it is a rather an active participant in a person’s daily life. It is not entirely stagnant nor too active. It seeks docility in order to arrive at the question: Who am I? Indeed, who is the human person? Richer attempts to understand that each person has unity in heterogeneity. That is, within the individual are biological, social, physical, metal and we even daresay, spiritual aspects. The same person is not limited to one or the other, rather, s/he is all. Finally, the person is enmeshed in ethics. He or she is an individual who aspires for something more for the Self. It is how the person interacts and lives with the other, in harmony and justice. And each story, each narrative is an awakening, or even an illumination which contributes to its perfection. Following Ricoeur’s mind: How far has the Self gone? Indeed, almost limitless! References Itao, Alexis Deodato S. “Paul Ricoeur’s Hermeneutics of Symbols: A Critical Dialecticof Suspicion and Faith” in Kritike, Vol. 4, No. 2 Dec. 2010 Ricoeur, Paul. Fallible Man. Trans. Charles A. Kelbley. New York: Fordham UniversityPress, 1986. _______________. Hermeneutics and the Human Sciences. Edited and translated byJohn B. Thompson. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989 _______________. Oneself as Another. Trans. Kathleen Blamey Chicago: University ofChicago Press, 1992. _______________. The Conflict of Interpretations. Essays in Hermeneutics. Ed. DonIhde. Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1974 Poythress, Vern S. "Review of Ricoeur on Biblical Interpretation." in WestminsterTheological Journal 43/2, 1981. Vessey, David. The Polysemy of Otherness: On Ricoeur’s Oneself as Another. TheUniversity of Chicago, no date

Men in crisis Confused by society's mixed messages about what's expected of them as boys, and later as men, many feel a sadness and disconnection they cannot even name. (Pollack 1) The recent 'crisis in masculinity' has been punctuated by a plethora of material devoted to reclaiming men's 'lost' power within a society. Triggered by the recognition that their roles within our society are changing, this emerging cannon often fails to recognise men as part of a social continuum that subjectifies individuals within discursive frameworks. Rather it mourns this process as the emasculation of male identity within our culture. However, this self-help rhetoric masks a wider project of renegotiating men's power within our society. David Buchbinder for example, calls for an interrogation of "how men and various masculinities are represented" (7). As a consequence, male subjectivities are being called into question. There is now examination of the manner in which "power is differentiated so that particular styles of masculinity become ascendant…in certain situations" (Haywood and Mac an Ghaill 52). In this way, male power is being problematised on many fronts. The desire to shore-up male power in the face of various 'threats' has called for a corporeal manifestation of masculine dominance. Men's bodies have been redefined through contemporary attention to physical sculpting and molding. This reanimation of the Superman ethic of embodiment is part of the hegemonic maintenance of masculine power in our culture. At the times of the greatest threat to male competence and control within society - social, political and economic restructuring, war and recovery - the body has been at the frontier of reasserting male power. This paper traces performances of superhero masculinity across men's bodies. As central 'creators' of their world, superheroes embody a mythology in masculine identity that shapes men as social and natural determinists within a society. In attempting to replicate this role, men are subjected to a rupture in the social fabric whereby their bodies move through a series of discursive frameworks in a contradictory tapestry that activates a 'crisis' within masculine identity. This paper seeks to open the seam between masculinity and power to examine how masculine legitimacy is negotiated on embodied surfaces. This trajectory is constantly stretched to its limits where men's bodies are in a persistent state of rebuilding. Henry Rollins forms part of the frayed edges of superhero identity. Simultaneously validating and undermining this mentality, Rollins creates a nexus of contradictory ideologies. Embracing a "rock-hard male body" (Robinson 11) in a powerfully built embodied reality, and at the same time deconstructing it, Rollins takes issue with men in their mythological role as centres of social reality and their power to create and control it. Rollins forms an identity that is shaped within discursive practices rather than the director of them. In tracing this performance through the "Liar" music video that features Rollins in the Superman role, this paper demonstrates the convoluted masculinity embraced by Rollins and the movement of Superman across his body. Between superheroes, war and bodybuilding, the aim is to trace how men are positioned as unproblematic agents of power, change and creation within the embodied myths of our culture. Bodies of knowledge Men's bodies have changed. While they have been the 'normal' against which women's bodies have been defined, this sense of normality has altered (Cranny-Francis 8). Foucault has consistently demonstrated how bodies are created and inscribed through cultural processes whereby discourses determine the shape and nature of embodied realities. Even though men are often centralised in these knowledge systems, it does not mean that they are immune to their influence. Men are insistently defined through metaphors of the mind. The proper man is a controlled man. In bodybuilding this relationship is activated in the repetitive and disciplined action of tensing and relaxing muscle. Defined as, "the toning and accentuating of muscles by the repeated action of flexing and releasing…particularly through the use of weights" (Carden-Coyne n.pag), it reifies a controlled mind restraining and shaping the physical form. During the Enlightenment thrust toward scientific rationalism, Descartes positioned an uncomplicated division between the mind and the body. Men spent their time purifying their souls and using bodies "as a spiritual vessel, a Christian container of morality and purity" (Carden-Coyne n.pag). They were shells that required discipline so the mind was not led astray. The mind was the controlling agent that subdued a disobedient embodiment. The extent to which this was achieved was the measure of the legitimacy and competence of a man. The currency of this corporeal state resonates most potently today through the phallus. As an extension of the phallus, the surface of the male body is a crucial site for the demonstration of embodied control. For the phallus is not very closely related to the possession of a penis as David Buchbinder argues when he suggests, "the phallus as a symbol, however, is not to be identified with an actual penis, because no actual penis could ever really measure up to the imagined sexual potency and social or magical power of the phallus" (49). Indeed, men's penises are "flaccid most of the time" (Buchbinder 48). They are fragile and soft. They rarely meet the 'supernatural' prowess of the phallus. Phallic power is related to the capacity to occupy the space of symbolic power effectively - to be embodied in a competent masculinity. Bodybuilding demonstrates a mastery over the self that articulates this discipline. The capacity to mobilise this control is linked to wider social power in which men are supposed to be privileged agents of creation and control in the political and economic spheres of life. Henry Rollins mobilises a mythos of masculine embodied control and corporeal hardness in his embrace of Superman. He is the epitome of phallic power and Rollins uses this character as a metonym to articulate the contradictions between the ideologies circulating through culture and the reality of lived experience. While Rollins mobilises a superhero musculature, the surfacing of his self masks a vulnerable masculine subjectivity that is embedded within distinct social frameworks. He uses the ideologies surrounding superheroes to create a dialogue between the reality of everyday life and the discourses that frame those experiences. Superheroes are resourceful, disciplined and righteous. They are sites of strength, moral virtue, creation and control. They often have super-powers, super-human strength, agility or speed that enables them to exist apart from regular humans. They occupy spaces removed from everyday life. However, their separateness from these realities is contrary to real men's experiences. Like the phallus, there is a gulf between the superhero ideology that men are supposed to embody and the reality of lived experience. Nevertheless there remains a constant struggle to build and rebuild the male body to the pinnacle of (super)masculine prowess. Superman is framed within the mind/body binary quite clearly. The control he exercises over his body reifies his calm and disciplined mind. His powerful physique, "represents in vividly graphic detail the masculinity, the confidence, the power that personifies the ideal of phallic masculinity" (Brown n.pag). His control extends across his self and out into the world. Rollins embraces this control through his own self-empowering rhetoric that litters his lyrics, spoken word and concert performances. He also most clearly embodies the Superman ideology through a life-long attention to bodybuilding. Introduced to weightlifting as a teenager, Rollins incorporates the Superman ideology into his subjectivity. He has been referred to as the "tattooed, muscled Ubermensch of serious rawk" (geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Palms/4396/hrf.htm). He works his muscles to rebuild his identity after a disaffiliated, Ritalin-addicted childhood spent bouncing between divorced parents. The processes of disciplining his body and empowering the self are made clear through his relationship to his body and to the weights. Rollins believes in extending himself to his limits and beyond. Bodybuilding is the mattering map Rollins uses to construct a sense of self. He uses it to define who he is and to build his self-esteem. For example,"time away from the Iron makes my mind and body degenerate. I turn on myself and wallow in thick depression that makes me unable to function. The body shuts my mind down. The Iron is the best anti-depressant I have ever found. No better way to fight weakness than with strength. Fight degeneration with generation" (Rollins 257). In his embrace of the embodied power of Superman and the building mechanisms of weightlifting he is able to repair and regenerate his sense of self. He is able to transform himself into something new and different, thereby exercising power as an agent of change. This ethic of rebuilding hails an earlier time when control over the body needed to reestablish the coherent corporeality of damaged men within a culture. World War One redefined popular consciousness of men's bodies as the mechanisation of warfare ripped limbs from torsos and severed the relationship between a disciplined mind and the controlled body. Rebuilding battered bodies The first widespread conflict to use guns, shells and tanks produced the first evidence of neurasthenia, or shell shock (Carden-Coyne n.pag). Faith in evolution and human improvement was shaken to its core with the appearance of physically and emotionally broken masculinity. Men's bodies were dismembered and disabled - their minds were tortured. As a result Carden-Coyne argues, [t]he first world war significantly undermined confidence in the male instinct, by demonstrating that the primitive energies of the male body (virility, physical strength and aggression) were no match for modern technological warfare. A process of healing was needed to rebuild a masculinity of control and strength in these men. Faith in progress needed to be renegotiated and the damaged minds and bodies of men mended. Bodybuilding was seen as the most complete demonstration of embodied control. It required discipline and strength and so required the mind to order the body. Bodybuilding was embraced after World War One to repair the fissures in war-ravaged masculinity. It served, "to shape corporeal borders…against the sense of decay and uncertainty that permeated the 'air' of modernity" (Carden-Coyne n.pag). The strong body created a strong mind and bodybuilding in the post-war period also helped to more popularly render images of heroes. War heroes could be more easily framed in musculature. In popular culture, heroes shifted from aristocratic figures such as the Scarlet Pimpernel, to more everyday men. By 1938 the emergence of Superman comics positioned the ordinary-like man as superhero (Bridwell 6). The hard body had the capacity to make the ordinary man exceptional. Indeed, the superheroes of the twentieth century like "Tarzan, Conan, James Bond" (Connell 6) all depict a resilience and similar competence over all aspects of their lives. However as men's authority has been increasingly challenged within our society, embodied strength has increased in Superman to mirror the changes in the lives of these men. Postmodern paychecks World War Two also tore men's bodies apart. However with this war, the machine was reinscribed as saving rather than taking lives on the battlefield (Fussell 3). The development of the atomic bomb was attributed to, and celebrated as, man's ability to create and conquer anything (Easlea 90). By 1950 Superman comics depicted the man of steel withstanding a nuclear blast thereby validating the superiority and resilience of white, western masculinity and embodied hardness over the weak Others (Bridwell 10). Nevertheless World War Two chewed through men's bodies at an imperceptible rate. Despite the rhetoric of heroism and technological superiority, the reality of everyday battle was broken bodies. The ideology of the superhero served to mask the realities of this war. Despite the damage to the corporeal form, the heroic mythology of masculine identity served to reify a coherent embodiment and a clear mind. The mobilisation of this masculine myth masked the erosion of legitimate male power within culture. This resonates into the postwar period where a whole series of structural changes to the social landscape have radically redefined our social reality. The mechanisms men have used to define themselves have decayed. The rising empowerment of women, gay men and black men have problematised the centrality of white, heterosexual men in our culture (Faludi 40). They are no longer able to easily occupy a stable, silent centre in our society. As a result, there has been an attempt to reclaim the body and reclaim the competency that serves to define men as masculine. The rising interest in men's health and physical fitness on the whole, has lead to a reanimation of the superman figure. Men's bodies are getting harder and larger. Part animal, part machine Henry Rollins embraces the contradictions in heroic masculinity. He demonstrates an embodied control that is regimented through an incorporation of Nietzschean will. In this way he embodies the relationship between the superhero and contemporary masculinity. However, Rollins' Superman is not an Ubermensch (Nietzsche 230). He performs a problematic masculinity. As a result, Rollins deconstructs the masculine hierarchy by subverting, not only his own performance of masculinity, but all such performances. The "Liar" music video by The Rollins Band features Rollins in the Superman role. In this clip he interrogates different levels of truth and reality. For him, neither Clark Kent nor Superman is a valid model on which to base effective performances of masculinity. Neither of these men are heroes, rather they are simulations. The version of Superman that Rollins constructs is authoritative and totalitarian. He depicts a corrupt figure and flawed leader who is not in control and is struggling to meet the demands of his role. This performance of Superman deconstructs the myth of the male hero. For Rollins, this hero does not exist - or if he does - he is a "Liar". Henry Rollins both embodies and deconstructs the superhero identity. He forms a nexus around which contradictory ideologies in masculinity collide and are reworked into a radically subversive critique of the relationship between men and superheroes. For Rollins the superhero mentality masks the complicated ideologies men must negotiate everyday in which they are subjectified within contradictory discursive frameworks that demand multifarious performances. Rollins strips back the layers of masculine power to reveal the ways in which men are embedded within social structures that reflect and affect their reality. In this self-reflexive critique he performs Superman in playful, resistive ways. This Superman does not exist apart from everyday life, but is entrenched within its frameworks that can only produce flawed performances of a social ideal. For Rollins a superhero embodiment cannot wipe away the discourses that encircle men within our culture but is rather a reflection of the extent to which men are embedded within them. In negotiating the difficulties in masculinity, Henry Rollins deprioritises men's roles as super-human agents of control, creation and change within a society. He calls into question the validity of masculine power and reifies the contradictions in manhood. He hails an ultimately resilient and empowered dominant masculinity within a deconstructive rhetoric. He is mobilising a moment within our culture where men must redefine who they are. This redefinition must be less concerned with how men can reclaim the power they are currently mourning in the 'crisis of masculinity'. If we are to make lasting change within a Cultural Studies framework then it cannot end, but only begin, with the articulation of a diversity of voices. Deep, structural change can only be made if we examine how a powerful position is able to occupy an unproblematised node of commonsense. Men need to redefine who they are, their bodies, their minds and their performances to position a masculinity that is not separate from society, but that can exist coherently within it. References Bridwell, Nathan. "Introduction." Superman from the Thirties to the Seventies. New York: Bonanza Books, 1971. Brown, James. "Comic book masculinity and the new black superhero." African American Review. 33.1 (1999): expanded academic database [n.pag]. Accessed 9.4.2001. Buchbinder, David. Performance Anxieties. Sydney: Allen and Unwin, 1998. Carden-Coyne, Anna. "Classical heroism and modern life: Body building and masculinity in the early twentieth century." Journal of Australian Studies. (December 1999): expanded academic database [n.pag] Accessed 9.4.2001. Connell, Robert. "Masculinity, violence and war" in P. Patton and R. Poole (eds.), War/Masculinity. Sydney: Intervention Publications, 1985. Cranny-Francis, Ann. The Body in the Text. Melbourne: Melbourne University Press, 1995. Descartes, Rene. Key Philosphical Writings. (Translated by E. Haldane and G. Ross) Hertfordshire: Wordsworth, 1997. Easlea, Brian. Fathering the Unthinkable. London: Pluto Press, 1983. Faludi, Susan. Stiffed: The Betrayal of the Modern Man. London: Chatto and Windus, 1999. Foucault, Michel. The Birth of the Clinic. London: Routledge, 1973. ---Madness and Civlisation: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason. London: Routledge, 1965. ---The Order of Things. London: Vintage, 1972. Fussell, Paul. Wartime: Understanding of Behaviour in the Second World War. New York: Oxford University Press, 1989. Haywood, Christina and Mac an Ghaill, Martin. "Schooling masculinities" in Martin Mac an Ghaill (ed.), Understanding Masculinities. Buckingham: Open University Press, 1996. "I Have Zero Sex Appeal." Melody Maker. (March 29 1997). geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Palms/4396/hrf/htm. Accessed July 30 2001. Nietzsche, Friedrich. The Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche Volume 4, The Will to Power, Book One and Two. O. Levy (ed.), London: George Allen and Unwin, 1924. Pollack, William. Real Boys. Melbourne: Scribe Publications, 1999. Robinson, Doug. No Less a Man. Bowling Green: Bowling Green State University, 1994. Rollins, Henry. "The Iron." The Portable Henry Rollins. London: Phoenix House, 1997.

The following article is in response to a research project that took the form of a road trip from Perth to Lombadina re-enacting the journey undertaken by the characters in the play Bran Nue Dae by playwright Jimmy Chi and Broome band Kuckles. This project was facilitated by the assistance of a Creative and Research Publication Grant from the Faculty of Communications and Creative Industries, Edith Cowan University, Western Australia. The project was carried out by researchers Kara Jacob and Margaret Hair. One thing is plainly clear. Aboriginal art expresses the possibility of human intimacy with landscapes. This is the key to its power: it makes available a rich tradition of human ethics and relationships with place and other species to a worldwide audience. For the settler Australian audience, caught ambiguously between old and new lands, their appreciation of this art embodies at least a striving for the kind of citizenship that republicans wanted: to belong to this place rather than to another (Marcia Langton in Watson 191). Marcia Langton is talking here about painting. My question is whether this “kind of citizenship” can also be accessed through appreciation of indigenous theatre, and specifically through the play Bran Nue Dae, by playwright Jimmy Chi and Broome band Kuckles, a play closely linked to the Western Australian landscape through its appropriation of the road trip genre. The physical journey taken by the characters metaphorically takes them also through the contact history of black and white Australians in Western Australia. Significantly, the non-indigenous characters experience the redemptive power of “human intimacy with landscapes” through travelling to the traditional country of their road trip companions. The road trip genre typically places its characters on a quest for knowledge. American poet Gary Snyder says that the two sources of human knowledge are symbols and sense-impressions (vii). Bran Nue Dae abounds with symbols, from the priest’s cassock and mitre to Roebourne prison; however, the sense impressions, which are so strong in the performance of the play, are missing from the written text, apart from ironic comments on the weather. In my efforts to understand Bran Nue Dae, I undertook the road trip from Perth to the Kimberley myself in order to discover those missing sense-impressions, as they form part of the “back story” of the play. In the play there is a void between the time the characters leave Perth and reach first Roebourne, where they are locked up, and then Roebuck Plains, not far from Broome, yet in the “real world” they would have travelled more than two thousand kilometres. What would they have seen and experienced on this journey? I took note of Krim Benterrak, Paddy Roe and Stephen Muecke’s Reading the Country, a cross-cultural and cross-textual study on Roebuck Plains, near Broome. Muecke talks about “stories being contingent upon place … Aboriginal storytellers have a similar policy. If one is not prepared to take the trouble to go to the place, then its story can only be given as a short version” (72). In preparing for the trip, I collected tourist brochures and maps. The use of maps, seemingly essential on any road trip as guides to “having a look at” country (Muecke ibid.), was instantly problematic in itself, in that maps represent country as colonised space. In Saltwater People, Nonie Sharp discusses the “distinction between mapping and personal journeying”: Maps and mapping describe space in a way that depersonalises it. Mapping removes the footprints of named creatures – animal, human, ancestral – who belong to this place or that place. A map can be anywhere. ‘Itineraries’, however, are actions and movements within a named and footprinted land (Sharp 199-200). The country journeyed through in Bran Nue Dae, which privileges indigenous experience, could be designated as the potentially dangerous liminal space between the “map” and the “itinerary”. This “space between” resonates with untold stories, with invisibilities. One of the most telling discoveries on the research trip was the thoroughness with which indigenous people have been made to disappear from the “mapped” zones through various colonial policies. It was very evident that indigenous people are still relegated to the fringes of town, as in Onslow and Port Hedland, in housing situations closely resembling the old missions and reserves. Although my travelling companion and I made an effort in every place we visited to pay our respects by at least finding out the language group of the traditional owners, it became clear that a major challenge in travelling through post-colonial space is in avoiding becoming complicit in the disappearance of indigenous people. We wanted our focus to be “on the people whose bodies, territories, beliefs and values have been travelled though” (Tuhiwai Smith 78) but our experience was that finding even written guides into the “footprinted land” is not easy when few tourist pamphlets acknowledge the traditional owners of the country. Even when “local Aboriginal” words are quoted, as in the CALM brochure for Nambung National Park (i.e., the Pinnacles), the actual language or language group is not mentioned. In many interpretive brochures and facilities, traditional owners are represented as absent, as victims or as prisoners. The fate of the “original inhabitants of the Greenough Flats”, the Yabbaroo people, is alluded to in the Greenough River Nature Walk Trail Guide, under the title, “A short history of Greenough River from the Rivermouth to Westbank Road”: The Gregory brothers, exploring for pastoral land in 1848, peacefully met with a large group of Aborigines camped beside a freshwater spring in a dense Melaleuca thicket. They named the spring Bootenal, from the Nyungar word Boolungal, meaning pelican. Gregory’s glowing reports of good grazing prompted pastoralists to move their flocks to Greenough, and by 1852 William Criddle was watering cattle for the Cattle Company at the Bootenal Spring. The Aborigines soon resented this intrusion and in 1854, large numbers with many from surrounding tribes, gathered in the relative safety of the Bootenal thicket. Making forays at night, they killed cattle and sheep and attacked homesteads. The pastoralists retaliated by forming a posse at Glengarry under the command of the Resident Magistrate. On the night of the 4th/5th July they rode to Bootenal and drove the Aborigines from the thicket. No arrests were made and no official report given of casualties. Aboriginal resistance in the area was finished. The fact that the extract actually describes a massacre while purporting to be a “history of Greenough River” subverts the notion that the land can ever really be “depersonalised”. At the very heart of the difference lie different ways of being human: in Aboriginal classical tradition the person dwells within a personified landscape which is alive, named, inscribed by spiritual and human agents. It is a ‘Thou’ not an ‘It’, and I and Thou belong together (Sharp 199-200). Peter Read’s book Belonging: Australians, Place and Aboriginal Ownership contains a section titled “The Past Embedded in the Landscape” in which Read discusses whether the land holds the memory of events enacted upon it, so forming a tangible link between the dispossessed and the possessors. While discussing Judith Wright’s poem Bora Ring, Read states: “The unlaid violence of dispossession lingers at the sites of evil or old magic”, bringing to mind Wright’s notion of Australia as “a haunted country” (14). It is not surprising that the “unlaid violence of dispossession lingers” at the sites of old prisons and lock-ups, since it is built into the very architecture. The visitor pamphlet states that the 1890s design by George Temple Poole of the third Roebourne gaol, further up the great Northern Highway from Greenough and beautifully constructed from stone, “represents a way in which the state ideology of control of a remote and potentially dangerous population could be expressed in buildings”. The current Roebourne prison, still holding a majority of Aboriginal inmates, does away with any pretence of architectural elegance but expresses the same state ideology with its fence topped with razor wire. Without a guide like Bran Nue Dae’s Uncle Tadpole to keep us “off the track”, non-indigenous visitors to these old gaols, now largely museums, may be quickly led by the interpretation into the “mapped zone” – the narrative of imperialist expansion. However, we can follow Paul Carter’s injunction to “deepen grooves” and start with John Pat’s story at the Roebourne police lock-up, or the story of any indigenous inmate of the present Roebuck prison, spiralling back a century to the first Roebuck prison in settler John Withnell’s woolshed (Weightman 4). Then we gain a sense of the contact experience of the local indigenous peoples. John Withnell and his wife Emma are represented as particularly resourceful by the interpretation at the old Roebourne gaol (now Roebourne Visitors Centre and Museum). The museum has a replica of a whalebone armchair that John Withnell built for his wife with vertebrae as the seat and other bones as the back and armrests. The family also invented the canvas waterbag. The interpretation fails to mention that the same John Withnell beat an Aboriginal woman named Talarong so severely for refusing to care for sheep at Withnell’s Hillside Station that “she retreated into the bush and died of her injuries two days later”. No charges were brought against Withnell because, according to the Acting Government Resident, of the “great provocation” by Talarong in the incident (Hunt 99-100). Such omissions and silences in the official record force indigenous people into a parallel “invisible country” and leave us stranded on the highways of the “mapped zone”, bereft of our rights and responsibilities to connect either to the country or to its traditional owners. Roebourne, and its coastal port Cossack, stand on the hauntingly beautiful country of the Ngarluma and seaside Yapurarra peoples. Settlers first arrived in the 1860s and Aboriginal people began to be officially imprisoned soon after, primarily as a result of their resistance to being “blackbirded” and exploited as labour for the pearling and pastoral industries. Prisoners were chained by the neck, day and night, and forced to build roads and tramlines, ostensibly a “civilising” practice. As the history pamphlet for The Old Roebourne Gaol reads: “It was widely believed that the Roebourne Gaol was where the ‘benefit’ of white civilisation could be shown to the ‘savage’ Aboriginal” (Weightman 2). The “back story” I discovered on this research trip was one of disappearance – indigenous people being made to disappear from their countries, from non-indigenous view and from the written record. The symbols I surprisingly most engaged with and which most affected me were the gaols and prisons which the imperialists used as tools of their trade in disappearance. The sense impressions I experienced – extreme beauty, isolation, heat and sandflies – reinforced the complexity of Western Australian contact history. I began to see the central achievement of Bran Nue Dae as being the return of indigenous people to country and to story. This return, so beautifully realised in when the characters finally reach Lombadina and a state of acceptance, is critical to healing the country and to the attainment of an equitable “kind of citizenship” that denotes belonging for all. References Aboriginal Tourism Australia. Welcome to Country: Respecting Indigenous Culture for Travellers in Australia. 2004. Benterrak, Krim, Stephen Muecke, and Paddy Roe. Reading the Country. Perth: Fremantle Arts Centre Press, 1984. Carter, Paul. The Lie of the Land. London: Faber & Faber, 1996. Dalton, Peter. “Broome: A Multiracial Community. A Study of Social and Cultural Relationships in a Town in the West Kimberleys, Western Australia”. Thesis for Master of Arts in Anthropology. Perth: University of Western Australia, 1964. Hunt, Susan Jane. Spinifex and Hessian: Women’s Lives in North-Western Australia 1860–1900. Nedlands, WA: U of Western Australia P, 1986. Read, Peter. Belonging: Australians, Place and Aboriginal Ownership. UK: Cambridge UP, 2000. Reynolds, Henry. North of Capricorn: The Untold History of Australia’s North. Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 2003. Reynolds, Henry. Why Weren’t We Told? Ringwood, Victoria: Penguin Books Australia, 1999. Sharp, Nonie. Saltwater People: The Waves of Memory. Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 2002. Shire of Greenough. Greenough River Nature Walk Trail Guide. 2005. Tuhiwai Smith, Linda. Decolonizing Methodologies. Dunedin, New Zealand: U of Otago P, 1999. Watson, Christine. Piercing the Ground. Perth: Fremantle Arts Centre P, 2003. Weightman, Llyrus. The Old Roebourne Gaol: A History. Pilbara Classies & Printing Service. Wright, Judith. The Cry for the Dead. 1981. 277-80. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Hair, Margaret. "Invisible Country." M/C Journal 8.6 (2005). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0512/09-hair.php>. APA Style Hair, M. (Dec. 2005) "Invisible Country," M/C Journal, 8(6). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0512/09-hair.php>.

Photo by Ricky Kharawala on Unsplash INTRODUCTION When people think of biomedical research, they often envision rats kept in cages with scientists in white coats and blue gloves checking on them, taking notes, and injecting them with substances. The images make some people uncomfortable, evoking a twinge of guilt as they think of the rats suffering. However, the idea that the sacrifice of a few mice saves thousands of human lives may outweigh their guilty conscience. Based on arguments for and against non-human primate (NHP) use in research, this paper concludes that NHP use is scientifically necessary but would be more ethically sound if novel policies and regulations were added to existing measures. l. Arguments that the Use of NHPs is Ethically Unjustified On one end of the spectrum, bioethicist Peter Singer argues that animals, including rats, should not be used in biomedical research at all.[1] He states that the use of animals is an indicator of speciesism.[2] Like racism, speciesism condemns exploiting a group, here, animals. Singer also challenges differentiating humans and animals based on sentience. He claims that if sentience, autonomy, and self-consciousness provided the basis to deprive animals of the same rights and privileges as humans, then humans who lack such traits would, theoretically, not be entitled to the rights and privileges that other humans have.[3] Lastly, Singer argues that using animals in experimentation forces researchers to acknowledge similarities between animals and humans.[4] If a human were to be largely stressed by an experiment, it may be safe to assume that animals, such as rats, would be as well. Beyond Singer, other authors suggest that it may be ethically impermissible to use NHPs as animal models in biomedical research. They emphasize NHPs’ phylogenetic similarities to humans and their need for more complex social, behavioral, and psychological care in a laboratory environment.[5] It is difficult to meet these needs, as researchers do not have the resources or the time to devote to consistently fulfilling them.[6] In addition, NHP use in the US compromises the integrity of the animal model itself. Most NHPs are imported from Asia, Africa, and South America as[7] there are relatively few captive breeding sites in the US.[8] These journeys are long and tedious, causing considerable stress on the animal.[9] Housing conditions, weaning, and quarantine practices further jeopardize animal welfare.[10] Climate change, new patterns in light-dark cycles, and different diets can alter the physical and social integrity of the NHP.[11] Some argue that NHPs should not be used in research due to their long lifespan. NHPs can be used for multiple experiments throughout their lifespan.[12] This can be physically and emotionally taxing on the animals, who would spend years in captivity.[13] Subjecting NHPs to multiple experiments inflicting varying levels of harm can be seen as a form of abuse. Forcing these highly social and complex animals to live in captivity their whole life, often in inadequate living environments that do not satisfy their complex needs, can result in immense suffering. As anti-vivisection and animal welfare organizations argue, the close phylogenetic similarity of NHPs to humans highlights that they suffer in similar ways to humans.[14] NHPs respond to pain, and they reflect upon pain as well.[15] Painful memories endure after experimentation, magnifying the suffering of the animal.[16] NHPs also exhibit a level of sentience comparable to humans. This challenges Cohen’s belief that animals have no rights since NHPs theoretically exercise and respond to moral claims to a certain degree.[17] NHPs demonstrate reflective self-awareness, a rudimentary theory of mind, linguistic abilities, and deep emotional attachments.[18] Given their cognitive complexity and sociality, some would argue that the benefits to the NHP should also be taken into account. NHP use in research rarely, if ever, benefits the NHP. For an animal that expresses a level of sentience, NFT use violates the research principles of autonomy and beneficence. ll. Arguments Favoring Ethical Use On the other end of the spectrum, bioethicist Carl Cohen argues that animals have no rights and research should freely use them.[19] Cohen claims that animals are incapable of exercising, or responding to, moral claims.[20] Thus, they cannot engage in free moral judgment. He notes that humans kill millions of animals daily for consumption, despite scientific advancements that have made animal consumption largely unnecessary. Thus, humans kill and consume animals purely for taste and pleasure in the modern day. Cohen questions why it would be ethically permissible to recreationally kill animals without benefit but impermissible to use animals to serve medical science and human advancement.[21] If the rats in cages were to be altered and a dog was in the place of the rat, more would object to Cohen’s utilitarian idea. As dogs are social beings that form bonds with humans, their suffering to save human lives evokes different emotional reactions and is ethically problematic. The closer the bond between an animal and humans, the more unethical their research use seems to be. The ethical implications of animal use reach a pinnacle when the previous example uses a monkey. NHPs are the closest phylogenetic relatives of humans.[22] NHPs exhibit high levels of intelligence, reflective self-awareness, self-recognition, linguistic abilities, and distinct personalities.[23] Similar to humans, NHPs create social mechanisms in which they transmit learned behaviors and customs.[24] NHPs have proven valuable in the advancement of science and medicine. Approximately 100,000 to 200,000 NHP’s are used annually for research worldwide.[25] The use of NHPs has been rising due to increasing research on monoclonal antibodies, in which NHP’s are the only animal that can be used for preclinical safety studies.[26] lll. The Middle of the Spectrum: Permissible Use This paper argues that using NHPs as animal models in biomedical research is ethically permissible. NHPs are very phylogenetically similar to humans, making them the ideal models to represent humans in biomedicine.[27] The Weatherall Report, published in 2006, argues that the use of NHPs in research is “not only morally accepted, but morally required.”[28] However, the Report specifies that this argument is credible only if there are no more effective ways of pursuing the research in question.[29] The report outlines a utilitarian approach to the need for NHPs in research.[30] The report claims that, while NHPs are harmed in research, the harm is necessary to prevent harm to humans.[31] While relatively few NHPs are used in research, the number of humans that benefit from the harm decreases the net harm under a utilitarian approach.[32] Given an NHP’s long lifespan and ability to learn social tasks,[33] an NHP may be used for one study in which it learns a specific skill, then used in subsequent studies that require demonstration of the skill,[34] resulting in the sacrifice of fewer animals for medical research. The similarity of NHPs to humans both socially and cognitively may increase better animal welfare practices in the laboratory and a net reduction in harm to animal models in general. For example, positive reinforcement rather than physical restraint can be used with NHPs, encouraging researchers to treat NHPs with more respect than other animals. Exposure to signs of suffering may lead researchers to adopt research practices that are more humane and minimize the harm to animals.[36] To be ethical, scientists must consider the importance of the research and the inability to use other animals. If the research can be performed another way, the use of NHPs would not be morally justified. Despite the ethical dilemmas, utilitarianism is the best approach to animal research. NHPs’ expressing a cognitive and emotional complexity does not outweigh the benefit to humans as animal models in research. As with the rules surrounding human research subjects, research using NHPs requires protection of the research subjects and requires attention to the scientific benefits. Current policies guided by Russell and Burch’s “3 R’s Principle” reduce the harm to NHPs.[37] The Principle states that in research, there should be a “replacement of animals with non-animal methods;” “reduction of the number of animals used to obtain information of a given amount and precision;” and “refinement of scientific procedures and husbandry to minimize suffering and improve animal welfare.”[38] A stringent set of rules and regulations govern NHP use.[39] The 2000 Chimpanzee Health Improvement, Maintenance, and Protection Act legally prohibits the euthanasia of chimpanzees used in biomedical research.[40] The Act mandates the creation of sanctuaries where chimpanzees can be retired and cared for until their death.[41] Institutional Animal Care and Use Committees (IACUCS) regulate the use of NHPs and serve as ethical regulatory committees similar to Institutional Review Boards (IRB) overseeing human subjects research.[42] IACUCs prohibit academic or commercial research on NHPs unless researchers are appropriately trained, procedures for independent oversight are established, use of the specific species is justified, and the data’s significance is established.[43] The United Kingdom American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA) has stated that NFT use can occur only if other species are unsuitable for reaching scientific gains.[44] [45] lV. Recommendations While the above policies build a strong foundation to ensure that the research setting ethically respects NPHs, more can be done. Limiting continuous research on one NFT and limiting the number of studies an NHP can participate in would protect the NFT and could consider the level of harm an NHP is exposed to per study. To meet the complex needs of NFTs, animal research labs should be created for NHP use only and should include comprehensive care and specialized captivity practices. [46] A ranking system for labs could help distinguish which labs have enough protective measures and a complex environment to be entitled to engage in NHP research. Similar to biosafety levels (BSL) from one to four for research labs, with each level requiring unique sets of protective measures, animal research labs should be created for NHP use that requires the implementation of specific captivity practices. CONCLUSION NHPs have contributed greatly to the scientific community and the advancement of modern medicine. As emotionally and cognitively sophisticated beings, they need special protections in research contexts. As utilitarianism calls for their continued use to save human lives, improving their care in captivity is important to ethical research practices. Policies similar to those regulating human subjects in research should be implemented to protect them. This paper, therefore, sought to offer novel solutions, such as creating a ranking system for animal research laboratories and limiting the number of studies in which an animal can be used. - [1] Singer, Peter. “Equality for Animals?” In Practical ethics. Cambridge University Press, 2011. [2] Singer, “Equality for Animals?” [3] Singer, “Equality for Animals?” [4] Singer, “Equality for Animals?” [5] Prescott, Mark J. "Ethics of primate use." Advances in Science and Research 5, no. 1 (2010): 11-22. https://doi.org/10.5194/asr-5-11-2010 [6] Tardif, Suzette D., Kristine Coleman, Theodore R. Hobbs, and Corrine Lutz. "IACUC review of nonhuman primate research." ILAR journal 54, no. 2 (2013): 234-245. https://doi.org/10.1093/ilar/ilt040 [7] Prescott, Mark J. "Ethics of primate use." Advances in Science and Research 5, no. 1 (2010): 11-22. https://doi.org/10.5194/asr-5-11-2010 [8] Prescott, “Ethics of primate use.” 11-22 [9] Prescott, “Ethics of primate use.” 11-22 [10] Prescott, “Ethics of primate use.” 11-22 [11] Carlsson, Hans‐Erik, Steven J. Schapiro, Idle Farah, and Jann Hau. "Use of Primates In Research: A Global Overview." American Journal of Primatology: Official Journal of the American Society of Primatologists 63, no. 4 (2004): 225-237. https://doi.org/10.1002/ajp.20054 [12] Prescott, “Ethics of primate use.” 11-22 [13] Prescott, “Ethics of primate use.” 11-22 [14] Prescott, “Ethics of primate use.” 11-22 [15] Prescott, “Ethics of primate use.” 11-22 [16] Prescott, “Ethics of primate use.” 11-22 [17] Cohen, Carl. "The case for the use of animals in biomedical research." (1986). https://www.wellbeingintlstudiesrepository.org/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1001&context=moreaexp [18] Prescott, Mark J. "Ethics of primate use." Advances in science and research 5, no. 1 (2010): 11-22. https://doi.org/10.5194/asr-5-11-2010 [19] Cohen, Carl. "The case for the use of animals in biomedical research." (1986). https://www.wellbeingintlstudiesrepository.org/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1001&context=moreaexp [20] Cohen, “The case for the use of animals in biomedical research.” [21] Cohen, “The case for the use of animals in biomedical research.” [22] Tardif, Suzette D., Kristine Coleman, Theodore R. Hobbs, and Corrine Lutz. "IACUC review of nonhuman primate research." ILAR journal 54, no. 2 (2013): 234-245. https://doi.org/10.1093/ilar/ilt040 [23] Prescott, Mark J. "Ethics of primate use." Advances in science and research 5, no. 1 (2010): 11-22. https://doi.org/10.5194/asr-5-11-2010 [24] Prescott, “Ethics of primate use.” 11-22 [27] Tardif, Suzette D., Kristine Coleman, Theodore R. Hobbs, and Corrine Lutz. "IACUC review of nonhuman primate research." ILAR journal 54, no. 2 (2013): 234-245. https://doi.org/10.1093/ilar/ilt040 [28] Gardar, “The ethical justification for the use of non-human primates in research.” 328-331 [29] Gardar, “The ethical justification for the use of non-human primates in research.” 328-331 [30] Gardar, “The ethical justification for the use of non-human primates in research.” 328-331 [31] Gardar, “The ethical justification for the use of non-human primates in research.” 328-331 [32] Gardar, “The ethical justification for the use of non-human primates in research.” 328-331 [33] Tardif, Suzette D., Kristine Coleman, Theodore R. Hobbs, and Corrine Lutz. "IACUC review of nonhuman primate research." ILAR journal 54, no. 2 (2013): 234-245. https://doi.org/10.1093/ilar/ilt040 [34] Tardif et al., “IACUC review of nonhuman primate research.” 234-235 [35] Olsson, I. Anna S., and Peter Sandøe. "“What’s wrong with my monkey?” Ethical perspectives on germline transgenesis in marmosets." Transgenic research 19, no. 2 (2010): 181-186. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11248-009-9316-6 [36] Olsson et al., “What’s wrong with my monkey?” [37] Prescott, “Ethics of primate use.” 11-22 [38] Prescott, “Ethics of primate use.” 11-22 [39] Phillips, Kimberley A., Karen L. Bales, John P. Capitanio, Alan Conley, Paul W. Czoty, Bert A. ‘t Hart, William D. Hopkins et al. "Why primate models matter." American journal of primatology76, no. 9 (2014): 801-827. https://doi.org/10.1002/ajp.22281 [40] Carlsson, Hans‐Erik, Steven J. Schapiro, Idle Farah, and Jann Hau. "Use of primates in research: a global overview." American Journal of Primatology: Official Journal of the American Society of Primatologists 63, no. 4 (2004): 225-237. https://doi.org/10.1002/ajp.20054 [41] Prescott, Mark J. "Ethics of primate use." Advances in Science and Research 5, no. 1 (2010): 11-22. https://doi.org/10.5194/asr-5-11-2010 [42] Tardif, Suzette D., Kristine Coleman, Theodore R. Hobbs, and Corrine Lutz. "IACUC Review of Nonhuman Primate Research." ILAR Journal 54, no. 2 (2013): 234-245. https://doi.org/10.1093/ilar/ilt040 [43] Phillips, Kimberley A., Karen L. Bales, John P. Capitanio, Alan Conley, Paul W. Czoty, Bert A. ‘t Hart, William D. Hopkins et al. "Why primate models matter." American journal of primatology76, no. 9 (2014): 801-827. https://doi.org/10.1002/ajp.22281 [44] Prescott, Mark J. "Ethics of primate use." Advances in Science and Research 5, no. 1 (2010): 11-22. https://doi.org/10.5194/asr-5-11-2010 [45] Article 7 of Directive 86/609/EEC in the European Commission on the Protection of Animals Used for Experimental and Other Scientific Purposes states that “in a choice between experiments, those which use the minimum number of animals, involve animals with the lowest degree of neurophysiological sensitivity, cause the least pain, suffering, distress, or lasting harm, and which are most likely to provide satisfactory results, shall be selected.” [46] Tardif, Suzette D., Kristine Coleman, Theodore R. Hobbs, and Corrine Lutz. "IACUC review of nonhuman primate research." ILAR journal 54, no. 2 (2013): 234-245. https://doi.org/10.1093/ilar/ilt040

In 1999, the TV movie Shark Attack depicted an attack by mutant great white sharks on the population of Cape Town. By the time the third entry in the series, Shark Attack 3, aired in 2002, mutant great whites had lost their lustre and were replaced as antagonists with the megalodon: a giant shark originating not in any laboratory, but history, having lived from approximately 23 to 3.6 million years ago. The megalodon was resurrected again in May 2021 through a trifecta of events. A video of a basking shark encounter in the Atlantic went viral on the social media platform TikTok, due to users misidentifying it as a megalodon caught on tape. At the same time a boy received publicity for finding a megalodon tooth on a beach in South Carolina on his fifth birthday (Scott). And finally, the video game Stranded Deep, in which a megalodon is featured as a major enemy, was released as one of the monthly free games on the PlayStation Plus gaming service. These examples form part of a larger trend of alleged megalodon sightings in recent years, emerging as a component of the modern resurgence of cryptozoology. In the words of Bernard Heuvelmans, the Belgian zoologist who both popularised the term and was a leading figure of the field, cryptozoology is the “science of hidden animals”, which he further explained were more generally referred to as ‘unknowns’, even though they are typically known to local populations—at least sufficiently so that we often indirectly know of their existence, and certain aspects of their appearance and behaviour. It would be better to call them animals ‘undescribed by science,’ at least according to prescribed zoological rules. (1-2) In other words, a large aspect of cryptozoology as a field is taking the legendary creatures of non-Western mythology and finding materialist explanations for them compatible with Western biology. In many ways, this is a relic of the era of European imperialism, when many creatures of Africa and the Americas were “hidden animals” to European eyes (Dendle 200-01; Flores 557; Guimont). A major example of this is Bigfoot beliefs, a large subset of which took Native American legends about hairy wild men and attempted to prove that they were actually sightings of relict Gigantopithecus. These “hidden animals”—Bigfoot, Nessie, the chupacabra, the glawackus—are referred to as ‘cryptids’ by cryptozoologists (Regal 22, 81-104). Almost unique in cryptozoology, the megalodon is a cryptid based entirely on Western scientific development, and even the notion that it survives comes from standard scientific analysis (albeit analysis which was later superseded). Much like living mammoths and Bigfoot, what might be called the ‘megalodon as cryptid hypothesis’ serves to reinforce a fairy tale of its own. It reflects the desire to believe that there are still areas of the Earth untouched enough by human destruction to sustain massive animal life (Dendle 199-200). Indeed, megalodon’s continued existence would help absolve humanity for the oceanic aspect of the Sixth Extinction, by its role as an alternative apex predator; cryptozoologist Michael Goss even proposed that whales and giant squids are rare not from human causes, but precisely because megalodons are feeding on them (40). Horror scholar Michael Fuchs has pointed out that shark media, particularly the 1975 film Jaws and its 2006 video game adaptation Jaws Unleashed, are imbued with eco-politics (Fuchs 172-83). These connections, as well as the modern megalodon’s surge in popularity, make it notable that none of Syfy’s climate change-focused Sharknado films featured a megalodon. Despite the lack of a Megalodonado, the popular appeal of the megalodon serves as an important case study. Given its scientific origin and dynamic relationship with popular culture, I argue that the ‘megalodon as cryptid hypothesis’ illustrates how the boundaries between ‘hard’ science and mythology, fiction and reality, as well as ‘monster’ and ‘animal’, are not as firm as advocates of the Western science tradition might believe. As this essay highlights, science can be a mythology of its own, and monsters can serve as its gods of the gaps—or, in the case of megalodon, the god of the depths. Megalodon Fossils: A Short History Ancient peoples of various cultures likely viewed fossilised teeth of megalodons in the area of modern-day Syria (Mayor, First Fossil Hunters 257). Over the past 2500 years, Native American cultures in North America used megalodon teeth both as curios and cutting tools, due to their large size and serrated edges. A substantial trade in megalodon teeth fossils existed between the cultures inhabiting the areas of the Chesapeake Bay and Ohio River Valley (Lowery et al. 93-108). A 1961 study found megalodon teeth present as offerings in pre-Columbian temples across Central America, including in the Mayan city of Palenque in Mexico and Sitio Conte in Panama (de Borhegyi 273-96). But these cases led to no mythologies incorporating megalodons, in contrast to examples such as the Unktehi, a Sioux water monster of myth likely inspired by a combination of mammoth and mosasaur fossils (Mayor, First Americans 221-38). In early modern Europe, megalodon teeth were initially referred to as ‘tongue stones’, due to their similarity in size and shape to human tongues—just one of many ways modern cryptozoology comes from European religious and mystical thought (Dendle 190-216). In 1605, English scholar Richard Verstegan published his book A Restitution of Decayed Intelligence in Antiquities, which included an engraving of a tongue stone, making megalodon teeth potentially the subject of the first known illustration of any fossil (Davidson 333). In Malta, from the sixteenth through eighteenth centuries, megalodon teeth, known as ‘St. Paul’s tongue’, were used as charms to ward off the evil eye, dipped into drinks suspected of being poisoned, and even ground into powder and consumed as medicine (Zammit-Maempel, “Evil Eye” plate III; Zammit-Maempel, “Handbills” 220; Freller 31-32). While megalodon teeth were valued in and of themselves, they were not incorporated into myths, or led to a belief in megalodons still being extant. Indeed, save for their size, megalodon teeth were hard to distinguish from those of living sharks, like great whites. Instead, both the identification of megalodons as a species, and the idea that they might still be alive, were notions which originated from extrapolations of the results of nineteenth and twentieth century European scientific studies. In particular, the major culprit was the famous British 1872-76 HMS Challenger expedition, which led to the establishment of oceanography as a branch of science. In 1873, Challenger recovered fossilised megalodon teeth from the South Pacific, the first recovered in the open ocean (Shuker 48; Goss 35; Roesch). In 1959, the zoologist Wladimir Tschernezky of Queen Mary College analysed the teeth recovered by the Challenger and argued (erroneously, as later seen) that the accumulation of manganese dioxide on its surface indicated that one had to have been deposited within the last 11,000 years, while another was given an age of 24,000 years (1331-32). However, these views have more recently been debunked, with megalodon extinction occurring over two million years ago at the absolute latest (Pimiento and Clements 1-5; Coleman and Huyghe 138; Roesch). Tschernezky’s 1959 claim that megalodons still existed as of 9000 BCE was followed by the 1963 book Sharks and Rays of Australian Seas, a posthumous publication by ichthyologist David George Stead. Stead recounted a story told to him in 1918 by fishermen in Port Stephens, New South Wales, of an encounter with a fully white shark in the 115-300 foot range, which Stead argued was a living megalodon. That this account came from Stead was notable as he held a PhD in biology, had founded the Wildlife Preservation Society of Australia, and had debunked an earlier supposed sea monster sighting in Sydney Harbor in 1907 (45-46). The Stead account formed the backbone of cryptozoological claims for the continued existence of the megalodon, and after the book’s publication, multiple reports of giant shark sightings in the Pacific from the 1920s and 1930s were retroactively associated with relict megalodons (Shuker 43, 49; Coleman and Huyghe 139-40; Goss 40-41; Roesch). A Monster of Science and Culture As I have outlined above, the ‘megalodon as cryptid hypothesis’ had as its origin story not in Native American or African myth, but Western science: the Challenger Expedition, a London zoologist, and an Australian ichthyologist. Nor was the idea of a living megalodon necessarily outlandish; in the decades after the Challenger Expedition, a number of supposedly extinct fish species had been discovered to be anything but. In the late 1800s, the goblin shark and frilled shark, both considered ‘living fossils’, had been found in the Pacific (Goss 34-35). In 1938, the coelacanth, also believed by Western naturalists to have been extinct for millions of years, was rediscovered (at least by Europeans) in South Africa, samples having occasionally been caught by local fishermen for centuries. The coelacanth in particular helped give scientific legitimacy to the idea, prevalent for decades by that point, that living dinosaurs—associated with a legendary creature called the mokele-mbembe—might still exist in the heart of Central Africa (Guimont). In 1976, a US Navy ship off Hawaii recovered a megamouth shark, a deep-water species completely unknown prior. All of these oceanic discoveries gave credence to the idea that the megalodon might also still survive (Coleman and Clark 66-68, 156-57; Shuker 41; Goss 35; Roesch). Indeed, Goss has noted that prior to 1938, respectable ichthyologists were more likely to believe in the continued existence of the megalodon than the coelacanth (39-40). Of course, the major reason why speculation over megalodon survival had such public resonance was completely unscientific: the already-entrenched fascination with the fact that it had been a locomotive-sized killer. This had most clearly been driven home by a 1909 display at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. There, Bashford Dean, an ichthyologist at the museum, reconstructed an immense megalodon jaw, complete with actual fossil teeth. However, due to the fact that Dean assumed that all megalodon teeth were approximately the same size as the largest examples medially in the jaws, Dean’s jaw was at least one third larger than the likely upper limit of megalodon size. Nevertheless, the public perception of the megalodon remained at the 80-foot length that Dean extrapolated, rather than the more realistic 55-foot length that was the likely approximate upper size (Randall 170; Shuker 47; Goss 36-39). In particular, this inaccurate size estimate became entrenched in public thought due to a famous photograph of Dean and other museum officials posing inside his reconstructed jaw—a photograph which appeared in perhaps the most famous piece of shark fiction of all time, Steven Spielberg’s 1975 film Jaws. As it would turn out, the megalodon connection was itself a relic from the movie’s evolutionary ancestor, Peter Benchley’s novel, Jaws, from the year before. In the novel, the Woods Hole ichthyologist Matt Hooper (played by Richard Dreyfuss in the film) proposes that megalodons not only still exist, but they are the same species as great white sharks, with the smaller size of traditional great whites being due to the fact that they are simply on the small end of the megalodon size range (257-59). Benchley was reflecting on what was then the contemporary idea that megalodons likely resembled scaled-up great white sharks; something which is no longer as accepted. This was particularly notable as a number of claimed sightings stated that the alleged megalodons were larger great whites (Shuker 48-49), perhaps circuitously due to the Jaws influence. However, Goss was apparently unaware of Benchley’s linkage when he noted in 1987 (incidentally the year of the fourth and final Jaws movie) that to a megalodon, “the great white shark of Jaws would have been a stripling and perhaps a between-meals snack” (36). The publication of the Jaws novel led to an increased interest in the megalodon amongst cryptozoologists (Coleman and Clark 154; Mullis, “Cryptofiction” 246). But even so, it attracted rather less attention than other cryptids. From 1982-98, Heuvelmans served as president of the International Society of Cryptozoology, whose official journal was simply titled Cryptozoology. The notion of megalodon survival was addressed only once in its pages, and that as a brief mention in a letter to the editor (Raynal 112). This was in stark contrast to the oft-discussed potential for dinosaurs, mammoths, and Neanderthals to remain alive in the present day. In 1991, prominent British cryptozoologist Karl Shuker published an article endorsing the idea of extant megalodons (46-49). But this was followed by a 1998 article by Ben S. Roesch in The Cryptozoology Review severely criticising the methodology of Shuker and others who believed in the megalodon’s existence (Roesch). Writing in 1999, Loren Coleman and Jerome Clark, arguably the most prominent post-Heuvelmans cryptozoologists, were agnostic on the megalodon’s survival (155). The British palaeozoologist Darren Naish, a critic of cryptozoology, has pointed out that even if Shuker and others are correct and the megalodon continues to live in deep sea crevasses, it would be distinct enough from the historical surface-dwelling megalodon to be a separate species, to which he gave the hypothetical classification Carcharocles modernicus (Naish). And even the public fascination with the megalodon has its limits: at a 24 June 2004 auction in New York City, a set of megalodon jaws went on sale for $400,000, but were left unpurchased (Couzin 174). New Mythologies The ‘megalodon as cryptid hypothesis’ is effectively a fairy tale born of the blending of science, mythology, and most importantly, fiction. Beyond Jaws or Shark Attack 3—and potentially having inspired the latter (Weinberg)—perhaps the key patient zero of megalodon fiction is Steve Alten’s 1997 novel Meg: A Novel of Deep Terror, which went through a tortuous development adaptation process to become the 2018 film The Meg (Mullis, “Journey” 291-95). In the novel, the USS Nautilus, the US Navy’s first nuclear submarine and now a museum ship in Connecticut, is relaunched in order to hunt down the megalodon, only to be chomped in half by the shark. This is a clear allusion to Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues under the Sea (1870), where his Nautilus (namesake of the real submarine) is less successfully attacked by a giant cuttlefish (Alten, Meg 198; Verne 309-17). Meanwhile, in Alten’s 1999 sequel The Trench, an industrialist’s attempts to study the megalodon are revealed as an excuse to mine helium-3 from the seafloor to build fusion reactors, a plot financed by none other than a pre-9/11 Osama bin Laden in order to allow the Saudis to take over the global economy, in the process linking the megalodon with a monster of an entirely different type (Alten, Trench 261-62). In most adaptations of Verne’s novel, the cuttlefish that attacks the Nautilus is replaced by a giant squid, traditionally seen as the basis for the kraken of Norse myth (Thone 191). The kraken/giant squid dichotomy is present in the video game Stranded Deep. In it, the player’s unnamed avatar is a businessman whose plane crashes into a tropical sea, and must survive by scavenging resources, crafting shelters, and fighting predators across various islands. Which sea in particular does the player crash into? It is hard to say, as the only indication of specific location comes from the three ‘boss’ creatures the player must fight. One of them is Abaia, a creature from Melanesian mythology; another is Lusca, a creature from Caribbean mythology; the third is a megalodon. Lusca and Abaia, despite being creatures of mythology, are depicted as a giant squid and a giant moray eel, respectively. But the megalodon is portrayed as itself. Stranded Deep serves as a perfect distillation of the megalodon mythos: the shark is its own mythological basis, and its own cryptid equivalent. References Alten, Steven. Meg: A Novel of Deep Terror. New York: Doubleday, 1997. Alten, Steven. The Trench. New York: Pinnacle Books, 1999. Atherton, Darren. Jaws Unleashed. Videogame. Hungary: Appaloosa Interactive, 2006. Benchley, Peter. Jaws: A Novel. New York: Doubleday, 1974. Coleman, Loren, and Jerome Clark. Cryptozoology A to Z: The Encyclopedia of Loch Monsters, Sasquatch, Chupacabras, and Other Authentic Mysteries of Nature. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1999. Coleman, Loren, and Patrick Huyghe. The Field Guide to Lake Monsters, Sea Serpents, and Other Mystery Denizens of the Deep. Los Angeles: TarcherPerigee, 2003. Couzin, Jennifer. “Random Samples.” Science 305.5681 (2004): 174. Davidson, Jane P. “Fish Tales: Attributing the First Illustration of a Fossil Shark’s Tooth to Richard Verstegan (1605) and Nicolas Steno (1667).” Proceedings of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia 150 (2000): 329–44. De Borhegyi, Stephan F. “Shark Teeth, Stingray Spines, and Shark Fishing in Ancient Mexico and Central America.” Southwestern Journal of Anthropology 17.3 (1961): 273–96. Dendle, Peter. “Cryptozoology in the Medieval and Modern Worlds.” Folklore 117.2 (2006): 190–206. Flores, Jorge, “Distant Wonders: The Strange and the Marvelous between Mughal India and Habsburg Iberia in the Early Seventeenth Century.” Comparative Studies in Society and History 49.3 (2007): 553–81. Freller, Thomas. “The Pauline Cult in Malta and the Movement of the Counter-Reformation: The Development of Its International Reputation.” The Catholic Historical Review 85.1 (1999): 15–34. Fuchs, Michael. “Becoming-Shark? Jaws Unleashed, the Animal Avatar, and Popular Culture’s Eco-Politics.” Beasts of the Deep: Sea Creatures and Popular Culture. Jon Hackett and Seán Harrington. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 2018. 172–83. Goss, Michael. “Do Giant Prehistoric Sharks Survive?” Fate 40.11 (1987): 32–41. Guimont, Edward. “Hunting Dinosaurs in Central Africa.” Contingent Magazine, 18 Mar. 2019. 26 May 2021 <http://contingentmagazine.org/2019/03/18/hunting-dinosaurs-africa/>. Heuvelmans, Bernard. “What is Cryptozoology?” Trans. Ron Westrum. Cryptozoology 1 (1982): 1–12. Jaws. Dir. Steven Spielberg. Universal Pictures, 1975. Lowery, Darrin, Stephen J. Godfrey, and Ralph Eshelman. “Integrated Geology, Paleontology, and Archaeology: Native American Use of Fossil Shark Teeth in the Chesapeake Bay Region.” Archaeology of Eastern North America 39 (2011): 93–108. Mayor, Adrienne. The First Fossil Hunters: Dinosaurs, Mammoths, and Myth in Greek and Roman Times. Princeton: Princeton UP, 2000. Mayor, Adrienne. Fossil Legends of the First Americans. Princeton: Princeton UP, 2005. Meg, The. Dir. Jon Turteltaub. Warner Brothers, 2018. Mullis, Justin. “Cryptofiction! Science Fiction and the Rise of Cryptozoology.” The Paranormal and Popular Culture: A Postmodern Religious Landscape. Eds. Darryl Caterine and John W. Morehead. London: Routledge, 2019. 240–52. Mullis, Justin. “The Meg’s Long Journey to the Big Screen.” Jaws Unmade: The Lost Sequels, Prequels, Remakes, and Rip-Offs. John LeMay. Roswell: Bicep Books, 2020. 291–95. Naish, Darren. “Tales from the Cryptozoologicon: Megalodon!” Scientific American, 5 Aug. 2013. 27 May 2021 <https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/tetrapod-zoology/cryptozoologicon-megalodon-teaser/>. Pimiento, Catalina, and Christopher F. Clements. “When Did Carcharocles Megalodon Become Extinct? A New Analysis of the Fossil Record.” PLoS One 9.10 (2014): 1–5. Randall, John E. “Size of the Great White Shark (Carcharodon).” Science 181.4095 (1973): 169–70. Raynal, Michel. “The Linnaeus of the Zoology of Tomorrow.” Cryptozoology 6 (1987): 110–15. Regal, Brian. Searching for Sasquatch: Crackpots, Eggheads, and Cryptozoology. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011. Roesch, Ben S. “A Critical Evaluation of the Supposed Contemporary Existence of Carcharodon Megalodon.” Internet Archive, 1999. 28 May 2021 <https://web.archive.org/web/20131021005820/http:/web.ncf.ca/bz050/megalodon.html>. Scott, Ryan. “TikTok of Giant Shark Terrorizing Tourists Ignites Megalodon Theories.” Movieweb, 27 May 2021. 28 May 2021 <https://movieweb.com/giant-shark-tiktok-video-megalodon/>. Shark Attack. Dir. Bob Misiorowski. Martien Holdings A.V.V., 1999. Shark Attack 3: Megalodon. Dir. David Worth. Nu Image Films, 2002. Shuker, Karl P.N. “The Search for Monster Sharks.” Fate 44.3 (1991): 41–49. Stead, David G. Sharks and Rays of Australian Seas. Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1963. Stranded Deep. Australia: Beam Team Games, 2015. Thone, Frank. “Nature Ramblings: Leviathan and the Kraken.” The Science News-Letter 33.12 (1938): 191. Tschernezky, Wladimir. “Age of Carcharodon Megalodon?” Nature 184.4695 (1959): 1331–32. Verne, Jules. Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea. 1870. New York: M. A. Donohue & Company, 1895. Weinberg, Scott. “Shark Attack 3: Megalodon.” eFilmCritic! 3 May 2004. 20 Sep. 2021 <https://www.efilmcritic.com/review.php?movie=9135&reviewer=128>. Zammit-Maempel, George. “The Evil Eye and Protective Cattle Horns in Malta.” Folklore 79.1 (1968): 1–16. ———. “Handbills Extolling the Virtues of Fossil Shark’s Teeth.” Melita Historica 7.3 (1978): 211–24.

The term “coffee palace” was primarily used in Australia to describe the temperance hotels that were built in the last decades of the 19th century, although there are references to the term also being used to a lesser extent in the United Kingdom (Denby 174). Built in response to the worldwide temperance movement, which reached its pinnacle in the 1880s in Australia, coffee palaces were hotels that did not serve alcohol. This was a unique time in Australia’s architectural development as the economic boom fuelled by the gold rush in the 1850s, and the demand for ostentatious display that gathered momentum during the following years, afforded the use of richly ornamental High Victorian architecture and resulted in very majestic structures; hence the term “palace” (Freeland 121). The often multi-storied coffee palaces were found in every capital city as well as regional areas such as Geelong and Broken Hill, and locales as remote as Maria Island on the east coast of Tasmania. Presented as upholding family values and discouraging drunkenness, the coffee palaces were most popular in seaside resorts such as Barwon Heads in Victoria, where they catered to families. Coffee palaces were also constructed on a grand scale to provide accommodation for international and interstate visitors attending the international exhibitions held in Sydney (1879) and Melbourne (1880 and 1888). While the temperance movement lasted well over 100 years, the life of coffee palaces was relatively short-lived. Nevertheless, coffee palaces were very much part of Australia’s cultural landscape. In this article, I examine the rise and demise of coffee palaces associated with the temperance movement and argue that coffee palaces established in the name of abstinence were modelled on the coffee houses that spread throughout Europe and North America in the 17th and 18th centuries during the Enlightenment—a time when the human mind could be said to have been liberated from inebriation and the dogmatic state of ignorance. The Temperance Movement At a time when newspapers are full of lurid stories about binge-drinking and the alleged ill-effects of the liberalisation of licensing laws, as well as concerns over the growing trend of marketing easy-to-drink products (such as the so-called “alcopops”) to teenagers, it is difficult to think of a period when the total suppression of the alcohol trade was seriously debated in Australia. The cause of temperance has almost completely vanished from view, yet for well over a century—from 1830 to the outbreak of the Second World War—the control or even total abolition of the liquor trade was a major political issue—one that split the country, brought thousands onto the streets in demonstrations, and influenced the outcome of elections. Between 1911 and 1925 referenda to either limit or prohibit the sale of alcohol were held in most States. While moves to bring about abolition failed, Fitzgerald notes that almost one in three Australian voters expressed their support for prohibition of alcohol in their State (145). Today, the temperance movement’s platform has largely been forgotten, killed off by the practical example of the United States, where prohibition of the legal sale of alcohol served only to hand control of the liquor traffic to organised crime. Coffee Houses and the Enlightenment Although tea has long been considered the beverage of sobriety, it was coffee that came to be regarded as the very antithesis of alcohol. When the first coffee house opened in London in the early 1650s, customers were bewildered by this strange new drink from the Middle East—hot, bitter, and black as soot. But those who tried coffee were, reports Ellis, soon won over, and coffee houses were opened across London, Oxford, and Cambridge and, in the following decades, Europe and North America. Tea, equally exotic, entered the English market slightly later than coffee (in 1664), but was more expensive and remained a rarity long after coffee had become ubiquitous in London (Ellis 123-24). The impact of the introduction of coffee into Europe during the seventeenth century was particularly noticeable since the most common beverages of the time, even at breakfast, were weak “small beer” and wine. Both were safer to drink than water, which was liable to be contaminated. Coffee, like beer, was made using boiled water and, therefore, provided a new and safe alternative to alcoholic drinks. There was also the added benefit that those who drank coffee instead of alcohol began the day alert rather than mildly inebriated (Standage 135). It was also thought that coffee had a stimulating effect upon the “nervous system,” so much so that the French called coffee une boisson intellectuelle (an intellectual beverage), because of its stimulating effect on the brain (Muskett 71). In Oxford, the British called their coffee houses “penny universities,” a penny then being the price of a cup of coffee (Standage 158). Coffee houses were, moreover, more than places that sold coffee. Unlike other institutions of the period, rank and birth had no place (Ellis 59). The coffee house became the centre of urban life, creating a distinctive social culture by treating all customers as equals. Egalitarianism, however, did not extend to women—at least not in London. Around its egalitarian (but male) tables, merchants discussed and conducted business, writers and poets held discussions, scientists demonstrated experiments, and philosophers deliberated ideas and reforms. For the price of a cup (or “dish” as it was then known) of coffee, a man could read the latest pamphlets and newsletters, chat with other patrons, strike business deals, keep up with the latest political gossip, find out what other people thought of a new book, or take part in literary or philosophical discussions. Like today’s Internet, Twitter, and Facebook, Europe’s coffee houses functioned as an information network where ideas circulated and spread from coffee house to coffee house. In this way, drinking coffee in the coffee house became a metaphor for people getting together to share ideas in a sober environment, a concept that remains today. According to Standage, this information network fuelled the Enlightenment (133), prompting an explosion of creativity. Coffee houses provided an entirely new environment for political, financial, scientific, and literary change, as people gathered, discussed, and debated issues within their walls. Entrepreneurs and scientists teamed up to form companies to exploit new inventions and discoveries in manufacturing and mining, paving the way for the Industrial Revolution (Standage 163). The stock market and insurance companies also had their birth in the coffee house. As a result, coffee was seen to be the epitome of modernity and progress and, as such, was the ideal beverage for the Age of Reason. By the 19th century, however, the era of coffee houses had passed. Most of them had evolved into exclusive men’s clubs, each geared towards a certain segment of society. Tea was now more affordable and fashionable, and teahouses, which drew clientele from both sexes, began to grow in popularity. Tea, however, had always been Australia’s most popular non-alcoholic drink. Tea (and coffee) along with other alien plants had been part of the cargo unloaded onto Australian shores with the First Fleet in 1788. Coffee, mainly from Brazil and Jamaica, remained a constant import but was taxed more heavily than tea and was, therefore, more expensive. Furthermore, tea was much easier to make than coffee. To brew tea, all that is needed is to add boiling water, coffee, in contrast, required roasting, grinding and brewing. According to Symons, until the 1930s, Australians were the largest consumers of tea in the world (19). In spite of this, and as coffee, since its introduction into Europe, was regarded as the antidote to alcohol, the temperance movement established coffee palaces. In the early 1870s in Britain, the temperance movement had revived the coffee house to provide an alternative to the gin taverns that were so attractive to the working classes of the Industrial Age (Clarke 5). Unlike the earlier coffee house, this revived incarnation provided accommodation and was open to men, women and children. “Cheap and wholesome food,” was available as well as reading rooms supplied with newspapers and periodicals, and games and smoking rooms (Clarke 20). In Australia, coffee palaces did not seek the working classes, as clientele: at least in the cities they were largely for the nouveau riche. Coffee Palaces The discovery of gold in 1851 changed the direction of the Australian economy. An investment boom followed, with an influx of foreign funds and English banks lending freely to colonial speculators. By the 1880s, the manufacturing and construction sectors of the economy boomed and land prices were highly inflated. Governments shared in the wealth and ploughed money into urban infrastructure, particularly railways. Spurred on by these positive economic conditions and the newly extended inter-colonial rail network, international exhibitions were held in both Sydney and Melbourne. To celebrate modern technology and design in an industrial age, international exhibitions were phenomena that had spread throughout Europe and much of the world from the mid-19th century. According to Davison, exhibitions were “integral to the culture of nineteenth century industrialising societies” (158). In particular, these exhibitions provided the colonies with an opportunity to demonstrate to the world their economic power and achievements in the sciences, the arts and education, as well as to promote their commerce and industry. Massive purpose-built buildings were constructed to house the exhibition halls. In Sydney, the Garden Palace was erected in the Botanic Gardens for the 1879 Exhibition (it burnt down in 1882). In Melbourne, the Royal Exhibition Building, now a World Heritage site, was built in the Carlton Gardens for the 1880 Exhibition and extended for the 1888 Centennial Exhibition. Accommodation was required for the some one million interstate and international visitors who were to pass through the gates of the Garden Palace in Sydney. To meet this need, the temperance movement, keen to provide alternative accommodation to licensed hotels, backed the establishment of Sydney’s coffee palaces. The Sydney Coffee Palace Hotel Company was formed in 1878 to operate and manage a number of coffee palaces constructed during the 1870s. These were designed to compete with hotels by “offering all the ordinary advantages of those establishments without the allurements of the drink” (Murdoch). Coffee palaces were much more than ordinary hotels—they were often multi-purpose or mixed-use buildings that included a large number of rooms for accommodation as well as ballrooms and other leisure facilities to attract people away from pubs. As the Australian Town and Country Journal reveals, their services included the supply of affordable, wholesome food, either in the form of regular meals or occasional refreshments, cooked in kitchens fitted with the latest in culinary accoutrements. These “culinary temples” also provided smoking rooms, chess and billiard rooms, and rooms where people could read books, periodicals and all the local and national papers for free (121). Similar to the coffee houses of the Enlightenment, the coffee palaces brought businessmen, artists, writers, engineers, and scientists attending the exhibitions together to eat and drink (non-alcoholic), socialise and conduct business. The Johnson’s Temperance Coffee Palace located in York Street in Sydney produced a practical guide for potential investors and businessmen titled International Exhibition Visitors Pocket Guide to Sydney. It included information on the location of government departments, educational institutions, hospitals, charitable organisations, and embassies, as well as a list of the tariffs on goods from food to opium (1–17). Women, particularly the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union (WCTU) were a formidable force in the temperance movement (intemperance was generally regarded as a male problem and, more specifically, a husband problem). Murdoch argues, however, that much of the success of the push to establish coffee palaces was due to male politicians with business interests, such as the one-time Victorian premiere James Munro. Considered a stern, moral church-going leader, Munro expanded the temperance movement into a fanatical force with extraordinary power, which is perhaps why the temperance movement had its greatest following in Victoria (Murdoch). Several prestigious hotels were constructed to provide accommodation for visitors to the international exhibitions in Melbourne. Munro was responsible for building many of the city’s coffee palaces, including the Victoria (1880) and the Federal Coffee Palace (1888) in Collins Street. After establishing the Grand Coffee Palace Company, Munro took over the Grand Hotel (now the Windsor) in 1886. Munro expanded the hotel to accommodate some of the two million visitors who were to attend the Centenary Exhibition, renamed it the Grand Coffee Palace, and ceremoniously burnt its liquor licence at the official opening (Murdoch). By 1888 there were more than 50 coffee palaces in the city of Melbourne alone and Munro held thousands of shares in coffee palaces, including those in Geelong and Broken Hill. With its opening planned to commemorate the centenary of the founding of Australia and the 1888 International Exhibition, the construction of the Federal Coffee Palace, one of the largest hotels in Australia, was perhaps the greatest monument to the temperance movement. Designed in the French Renaissance style, the façade was embellished with statues, griffins and Venus in a chariot drawn by four seahorses. The building was crowned with an iron-framed domed tower. New passenger elevators—first demonstrated at the Sydney Exhibition—allowed the building to soar to seven storeys. According to the Federal Coffee Palace Visitor’s Guide, which was presented to every visitor, there were three lifts for passengers and others for luggage. Bedrooms were located on the top five floors, while the stately ground and first floors contained majestic dining, lounge, sitting, smoking, writing, and billiard rooms. There were electric service bells, gaslights, and kitchens “fitted with the most approved inventions for aiding proficients [sic] in the culinary arts,” while the luxury brand Pears soap was used in the lavatories and bathrooms (16–17). In 1891, a spectacular financial crash brought the economic boom to an abrupt end. The British economy was in crisis and to meet the predicament, English banks withdrew their funds in Australia. There was a wholesale collapse of building companies, mortgage banks and other financial institutions during 1891 and 1892 and much of the banking system was halted during 1893 (Attard). Meanwhile, however, while the eastern States were in the economic doldrums, gold was discovered in 1892 at Coolgardie and Kalgoorlie in Western Australia and, within two years, the west of the continent was transformed. As gold poured back to the capital city of Perth, the long dormant settlement hurriedly caught up and began to emulate the rest of Australia, including the construction of ornately detailed coffee palaces (Freeman 130). By 1904, Perth had 20 coffee palaces. When the No. 2 Coffee Palace opened in Pitt Street, Sydney, in 1880, the Australian Town and Country Journal reported that coffee palaces were “not only fashionable, but appear to have acquired a permanent footing in Sydney” (121). The coffee palace era, however, was relatively short-lived. Driven more by reformist and economic zeal than by good business sense, many were in financial trouble when the 1890’s Depression hit. Leading figures in the temperance movement were also involved in land speculation and building societies and when these schemes collapsed, many, including Munro, were financially ruined. Many of the palaces closed or were forced to apply for liquor licences in order to stay afloat. Others developed another life after the temperance movement’s influence waned and the coffee palace fad faded, and many were later demolished to make way for more modern buildings. The Federal was licensed in 1923 and traded as the Federal Hotel until its demolition in 1973. The Victoria, however, did not succumb to a liquor licence until 1967. The Sydney Coffee Palace in Woolloomooloo became the Sydney Eye Hospital and, more recently, smart apartments. Some fine examples still survive as reminders of Australia’s social and cultural heritage. The Windsor in Melbourne’s Spring Street and the Broken Hill Hotel, a massive three-story iconic pub in the outback now called simply “The Palace,” are some examples. Tea remained the beverage of choice in Australia until the 1950s when the lifting of government controls on the importation of coffee and the influence of American foodways coincided with the arrival of espresso-loving immigrants. As Australians were introduced to the espresso machine, the short black, the cappuccino, and the café latte and (reminiscent of the Enlightenment), the post-war malaise was shed in favour of the energy and vigour of modernist thought and creativity, fuelled in at least a small part by caffeine and the emergent café culture (Teffer). Although the temperance movement’s attempt to provide an alternative to the ubiquitous pubs failed, coffee has now outstripped the consumption of tea and today’s café culture ensures that wherever coffee is consumed, there is the possibility of a continuation of the Enlightenment’s lively discussions, exchange of news, and dissemination of ideas and information in a sober environment. References Attard, Bernard. “The Economic History of Australia from 1788: An Introduction.” EH.net Encyclopedia. 5 Feb. (2012) ‹http://eh.net/encyclopedia/article/attard.australia›. Blainey, Anna. “The Prohibition and Total Abstinence Movement in Australia 1880–1910.” Food, Power and Community: Essays in the History of Food and Drink. Ed. Robert Dare. Adelaide: Wakefield Press, 1999. 142–52. Boyce, Francis Bertie. “Shall I Vote for No License?” An address delivered at the Convention of the Parramatta Branch of New South Wales Alliance, 3 September 1906. 3rd ed. Parramatta: New South Wales Alliance, 1907. Clarke, James Freeman. Coffee Houses and Coffee Palaces in England. Boston: George H. Ellis, 1882. “Coffee Palace, No. 2.” Australian Town and Country Journal. 17 Jul. 1880: 121. Davison, Graeme. “Festivals of Nationhood: The International Exhibitions.” Australian Cultural History. Eds. S. L. Goldberg and F. B. Smith. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1989. 158–77. Denby, Elaine. Grand Hotels: Reality and Illusion. London: Reaktion Books, 2002. Ellis, Markman. The Coffee House: A Cultural History. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2004. Federal Coffee Palace. The Federal Coffee Palace Visitors’ Guide to Melbourne, Its Suburbs, and Other Parts of the Colony of Victoria: Views of the Principal Public and Commercial Buildings in Melbourne, With a Bird’s Eye View of the City; and History of the Melbourne International Exhibition of 1880, etc. Melbourne: Federal Coffee House Company, 1888. Fitzgerald, Ross, and Trevor Jordan. Under the Influence: A History of Alcohol in Australia. Sydney: Harper Collins, 2009. Freeland, John. The Australian Pub. Melbourne: Sun Books, 1977. Johnson’s Temperance Coffee Palace. International Exhibition Visitors Pocket Guide to Sydney, Restaurant and Temperance Hotel. Sydney: Johnson’s Temperance Coffee Palace, 1879. Mitchell, Ann M. “Munro, James (1832–1908).” Australian Dictionary of Biography. Canberra: National Centre of Biography, Australian National U, 2006-12. 5 Feb. 2012 ‹http://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/munro-james-4271/text6905›. Murdoch, Sally. “Coffee Palaces.” Encyclopaedia of Melbourne. Eds. Andrew Brown-May and Shurlee Swain. 5 Feb. 2012 ‹http://www.emelbourne.net.au/biogs/EM00371b.htm›. Muskett, Philip E. The Art of Living in Australia. New South Wales: Kangaroo Press, 1987. Standage, Tom. A History of the World in 6 Glasses. New York: Walker & Company, 2005. Sydney Coffee Palace Hotel Company Limited. Memorandum of Association of the Sydney Coffee Palace Hotel Company, Ltd. Sydney: Samuel Edward Lees, 1879. Symons, Michael. One Continuous Picnic: A Gastronomic History of Australia. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 2007. Teffer, Nicola. Coffee Customs. Exhibition Catalogue. Sydney: Customs House, 2005.

Now in its thirtieth season, in 2018, The Simpsons is a popular culture phenomenon. The series is known as much for its social commentary as its humour and celebrity appearances. Nonetheless, The Simpsons’ ratings have declined steadily since the early 2000s, and fans have grown more vocal in their calls for the program’s end. This article provides a case study of episode “That 90s Show” (S19, E11) as a flashpoint that exemplifies fan desires for the series’ conclusion. This episode is one of the most contentious in the program’s history, with online outrage at the retconning of canon and both fans and anti-fans (Gray) of The Simpsons demanding its cancellation or “fan euthanasia”. The retconning of the canon in this episode makes evident the perceived decline in the quality of the series, and the regard for fan desires. “That 90s Show” is ultimately a failed attempt to demonstrate the continued relevance of the series to audiences, and popular culture at large, via its appeal to 1990s nostalgia.“That 90s Show”“That 90s Show” begins with Bart and Lisa’s discovery of Marge’s Springfield University diploma. This small incident indicates an impending timeline shift and “retcon”; canonically Marge never attended college, having fallen pregnant with Bart shortly after completing high school. The episode then offers an extended flashback to Marge and Homer’s life in the 1990s. The couple are living together in the Springfield Place apartment complex, with Homer working a variety of menial jobs to support Marge while she attends college. Homer and Marge subsequently break up, and Marge begins to date Professor Stephan August. In his despair, Homer can no longer perform R & B ballads with his ensemble. The band changes genres, and their new incarnation, Sadgasm, are soon credited with initiating the grunge movement. Sadgasm gain worldwide fame for their songs “Margerine” (a version of “Glycerine” by Bush), and “Politically Incorrect/Shave Me” (set to the melody of “Rape Me” by Nirvana) – which is later parodied in the episode by guest star Weird Al Yankovic as “BrainFreeze”. Homer develops an addiction to oversized, sweetened Starbucks coffee, and later, insulin, becoming a recluse despite the legion of fans camped out on his front lawn.Marge and Professor August soon part company due to his rejection of heteronormative marriage rituals. Upon her return to campus, Marge observes an MTV report on Sadgasm’s split, and Homer’s addiction, and rushes to Homer’s bedside to help him through recovery. Marge and Homer resume their relationship, and the grunge movement ends because Homer claims he “was too happy to ever grunge again.”While the episode rates a reasonable 6.1 on IMDB, fan criticism has largely focused on the premise of the episode, and what has been perceived to be the needless retconning of The Simpsons canon. Critic Robert Canning notes: “…what ‘That 90s Show’ did was neither cool nor interesting. Instead, it insulted lifelong Simpsons fans everywhere. With this episode, the writers chose to change the history of the Simpson family.” Canning observes that the episode could have worked if the flashback had been to the 1980s which supports canonicity, rather than a complete “retcon”. The term “retcon” (retroactive continuity) originates from narrative devices used in North American superhero comics, and is now broadly applied to fictional narrative universes. Andrew Friedenthal (10-11) describes retconning as “… a revision of the fictional universe in order to make the universe fresh and exciting for contemporary readers, but it also involves the influence of the past, as it directly inscribes itself upon that past.” While Amy Davis, Jemma Gilboy and James Zborowski (175-188) have highlighted floating timelines as a feature of long running animation series’ where characters remain the same age, The Simpsons does not fully adhere to this trope: “… one of the ‘rules’ of the ‘comic-book time’ or ‘floating timeline’ trope is that ‘you never refer to specific dates’… a restriction The Simpsons occasionally eschews” (Davis, Gilboy, and Zborowski 177).For many fans, “That 90s Show” becomes abstruse by erasing Marge and Homer’s well-established back story from “The Way We Was” (S2, E12). In the established narrative, Marge and Homer had met, fell in love and graduated High School in 1974; shortly after Marge fell pregnant with Bart, resulting in the couple’s shotgun wedding. “That 90s Show” disregards the pre-existing timeline, extending their courtship past high school and adding the couple’s breakup, and Homer’s improbable invention of grunge. Fan responses to “That 90s Show” highlight this episode of The Simpsons as a flashpoint for the sharp decline of quality in the series (despite having long since “jumped the shark”); but also, a decline in regard for the desires of fans. Thus, “That 90s Show” fails not only in rewriting its canon, and inserting the narrative into the 1990s; it also fails to satiate its loyal audience by insisting upon its centrality to 1990s pop culture.While fans have been vocal in online forums about the shift in the canon, they have also reflected upon the tone-deaf portrayal of the 1990s itself. During the course of the episode many 90s trends are introduced, the most contentious of which is Homer’s invention of grunge with his band Sadgasm. While playing a gig at Springfield University a young man in the audience makes a frantic phone call, shouting over the music: “Kurt, it’s Marvin. Your cousin, Marvin Cobain. You know that new sound you’re looking for…?,” thrusting the receiver towards the stage. The link to Nirvana firmly established, the remainder of the episode connects Homer’s depression and musical expression more and more blatantly to Kurt Cobain’s biography, culminating in Homer’s seclusion and near-overdose on insulin. Fans have openly debated the appropriateness of this narrative, and whether it is disrespectful to Cobain’s legacy (see Amato). Henry Jenkins (41) has described this type of debate as a kind of “moral economy” where fans “cast themselves not as poachers but as loyalists, rescuing essential elements of the primary text ‘misused’ by those who maintain copyright control over the program materials.” In this example, many original fans of The Simpsons felt the desire to rescue both Cobain’s and The Simpsons’ legacy from a poorly thought-out retcon seen to damage the legacy of both.While other trends associated with the 90s (Seinfeld; Beanie babies; Weird Al Yankovic; Starbucks; MTV VJs) all feature, it is Homer’s supposed invention of grunge which most overtly attempts to rewrite the 90s and reaffirm The Simpsons’ centrality to 90s pop culture. As the rest of this article will discuss, by rewriting the canon, and the 1990s, “That 90s Show” has two unrealised goals— firstly, to captivate an audience who have grown up with The Simpsons, via an appeal to nostalgia; and secondly, inserting themselves into the 1990s as an effort to prove the series’ relevance to a new generation of audience members who were born during that decade, and who have a nostalgic craving for the media texts of their childhood (Atkinson). Thus, this episode is indicative of fan movement towards an anti-fan position, by demanding the series’ end, or “fan euthanasia” (Williams 106; Booth 75-86) and exposing the “… dynamic spectrum of emotional reactions that fandom can generate” (Booth 76-77).“Worst. Episode. Ever”: Why “That 90s Show” FailedThe failure of “That 90s Show” can be framed in terms of audience reception— namely the response of original audience members objecting to the retconning of The Simpsons’ canon. Rather than appealing to a sense of nostalgia among the audience, “That 90s Show” seems only to suggest that the best episodes of The Simpsons aired before the end of the 1990s. Online forums devoted to The Simpsons concur that the series was at its peak between Seasons 1-10 (1989-1999), and that subsequent seasons have failed to match that standard. British podcaster Sol Harris spent four months in 2017 watching, rating, and charting The Simpsons’ declining quality (Kostarelis), with the conclusion that series’ downfall began from Season 11 onwards (despite a brief spike following The Simpsons Movie (2007)). Any series that aired on television post-1999 has been described as “Zombie Simpsons” by fans on the Dead Homer Society forum: “a hopelessly mediocre imitation that bears only a superficial resemblance to the original. It is the unwanted sequel, the stale spinoff, the creative dry hole that is kept pumping in the endless search for more money. It is Zombie Simpsons” (Sweatpants). It is essential to acknowledge the role of economics in the continuation of The Simpsons, particularly in terms of the series’ affiliation with the Fox Network. The Simpsons was the first series screened on Fox to reach the Top 30 programs in the US, and despite its overall decline, it is still one of the highest rating programs for the 18-49 demographic, enabling Fox to charge advertisers accordingly for a so-called “safe” slot (Berg). During its run, it has been estimated variously that Fox has been building towards a separate Simpsons cable channel, thus the consistent demand for new content; and, that the series has earned in excess of $4.6 billion for Fox in merchandising alone (Berg). Laura Bradley outlines how the legacy of The Simpsons beyond Season 30 has been complicated by the ongoing negotiations for Disney to buy 20th Century Fox – under these arrangements, The Simpsons would likely be screened on ABC or Hulu, should Disney continue producing the series (Bradley). Bradley emphasises the desire for fan euthanasia of the Zombie Simpsons, positing that “the series itself could end at Season 30, which is what most fans of the show’s long-gone original iteration would probably prefer.”While more generous fans expand the ‘Golden Age’ of The Simpsons to Season 12 (Power), the Dead Homer Society argues that their Zombie Simpsons theory is proven by the rise of “Jerkass Homer”, where Homer’s character changed from delightful doofus to cruel and destructive idiot (Sweatpants; Holland). The rise of Jerkass Homer coincides with the moment where Chris Plante claims The Simpsons “jumped the shark”. The term “jumping the shark” refers to the peak of a series before its inevitable, and often sharp, decline (Plante). In The Simpsons, this moment has been variously debated as occurring during S8, E23 “Homer’s Enemy” (Plante), or more popularly, S9, E2 “The Principle and the Pauper” (Chappell; Cinematic) – which like “That 90s Show”, received a vitriolic response for its attempt to retcon the series’ narrative history. “The Principal and the Pauper” focuses on Principal Skinner, and the revelation that he had assumed the identity of his (presumed dead during the Vietnam War) Army Sergeant, Seymour Skinner. The man we have known as Skinner is revealed to be “no-good-nik” Armin Tanzarian. This episode is loathed not only by audiences, but in hindsight, The Simpsons’ creative team. Voice actor Harry Shearer was scathing in his assessment:You’re taking something that an audience has built eight years or nine years of investment in and just tossed it in the trash can for no good reason, for a story we’ve done before with other characters. It’s so arbitrary and gratuitous, and it’s disrespectful to the audience. (Wilonsky)The retcon present in both “That 90s Show” and “The Principal and the Pauper” proves that long-term fans of The Simpsons have been forgotten in Groening’s quest to reach the pinnacle of television longevity. On this basis, it is unsurprising that fans have been demanding the end of the series since the turn of the millennium.As a result, fans such as the Dead Homer Society maintain a nostalgic longing for the Golden Age of The Simpsons, while actively campaigning for the program’s cancellation, a practice typically associated with anti-fans. Jonathan Gray coined the term “anti fan” to describe “… the active and vocal dislike or hate of a program, genre, or personality (841). For Gray, the study of anti-fans emphasises that the hatred of a text can “… produce just as much activity, identification, meaning, and ‘effects’ or serve just as powerfully to unite and sustain a community or subculture” (841). Gray also stresses the discourse of morality used by anti-fans to validate their reading position, particularly against texts that are broadly popular. This argument is developed further by Jenkins and Paul Booth.“Just Pick a Dead End, and Chill Out till You Die”: Fan EuthanasiaWhile some fans of The Simpsons have moved towards anti-fan practices (active hatred of the series, and/or a refusal to watch the show), many more occupy a “middle-ground”, pleading for a form of “fan euthanasia”; where fans call for their once loved object (and by extension, themselves) to “be put out of its misery” (Booth 76). The shifting relationship of fans of The Simpsons represents an “affective continuum”, where “… fan dissatisfaction arises not because they hate a show, but because they feel betrayed by a show they once loved. Their love of a text has waned, and now they find themselves wishing for a quick end to, a revaluation of, something that no longer lives up to the high standard they once valued” (Booth 78). While calls to end The Simpsons have existing since the end of the Golden Age, other fans (Ramaswamy) have suggested it is more difficult to pinpoint when The Simpsons lost its way. Despite airing well after the Golden Age, “That 90s Show” represents a flashpoint for fans who read the retcon as “… an insult to life-long Simpsons fans everywhere… it’s an episode that rewrites history… for the worse” (Canning). In attempting to appeal to the 90s nostalgia of original fans, ‘That 90s Show’ had the opposite effect; it instead reaffirms the sharp decline of the series since its Golden Age, which ended in the 1990s.Shifting the floating timeline of The Simpsons into the 1990s and overturning the canon to appeal to a new generation is dubious for several reasons. While it is likely that original viewers of The Simpsons (their parents) may have exposed their children to the series, the program’s relevance to Millennials is questionable. In 2015, Todd Schneider data mapped audience ratings for Seasons 1-27, concluding that there has been an 80% decline in viewership between Season 2 (which averaged at over 20 million American viewers per episode) to Season 27 (which averaged at less than 5 million viewers per episode). With the growth of SVOD services during The Simpsons’ run, and the sheer duration of the series, it is perhaps obvious to point out the reduced cultural impact of the program, particularly for younger generations. Secondly, “That 90s Show’s” appeal to nostalgia raises the question of whom nostalgia for the 1990s is aimed at. Atkinson argues that children born in the 1990s feel nostalgia for the era becausewe're emotionally invested in the entertainment from that decade because back then, with limited access to every album/TV show/film ever, the ones you did own meant absolutely everything. These were the last pop-culture remnants from that age when the internet existed without being all-consuming. … no wonder we still 'ship them so hard.Following this argument, if you watched The Simpsons as a child during the 1990s, the nostalgia you feel would be, like your parents, for the Golden Age of The Simpsons, rather than the pale imitation featured in “That 90s Show”. As Alexander Fury writes of the 90s: “perhaps the most important message … in the 90s was the idea of authenticity;” thus, if the children of the 90s are watching The Simpsons, they would look to Seasons 1-10 – when The Simpsons was an authentic representation of ‘90s popular culture.Holland has observed that The Simpsons endures “in part due to the way it adapts and responds to events around it”, citing the recent release of clips responding to current events – including Homer attempting to vote; and Trump’s tenure in the White House (Brockington). Yet the failure of “That 90s Show” marks not only The Simpsons increasingly futile efforts to appeal to a “liberal audience” by responding to contemporary political discourse. The failure to adapt is most notable in Hari Kondabolu’s documentary The Problem With Apu which targeted racist stereotypes, and The Simpsons’ poorly considered response episode (S29, E 15) “No Good Read Goes Unpunished”, the latter of which featured an image of Apu signed with Bart’s catchphrase, “Don’t have a cow, man” (Harmon). Groening has remained staunch, insisting that “it’s a time in our culture where people love to pretend they’re offended”, and that the show “speaks for itself” (Keveney). Groening’s statement was followed by the absence of Apu from the current season (Snierson), and rumours that he would be removed from future storylines (Culbertson).“They’ll Never Stop The Simpsons”The case study of The Simpsons episode “That 90s Show” demonstrates the “affective continuum” occupied at various moments in a fan’s relationship with a text (Booth). To the displeasure of fans, their once loved object has frequently retconned canon to capitalise on popular culture trends such as nostalgia for the 1990s. This episode demonstrates the failure of this strategy, as it both alienated the original fan base, and represented what many fans have perceived to be a sharp decline in The Simpsons’ quality. Arguably the relevance of The Simpsons might also remain in the 1990s. Certainly, the recent questioning of issues regarding representations of race, negative press coverage, and the producers’ feeble response, increases the weight of fan calls to end The Simpsons after Season 30. As they sang in S13, E17, perhaps “[We’ll] Never Stop The Simpsons”, but equally, we may have reached the tipping point where audiences have stopped paying attention.ReferencesAmato, Mike. “411: ‘That 90s Show.” Me Blog Write Good. 12 Dec. 2012. 2 Oct. 2018 <https://meblogwritegood.wordpress.com/2012/12/12/411-that-90s-show/>.Atkinson, S. “Why 90s Kids Can’t Get over the 90s and Are Still So Nostalgic for the Decade.” Bustle. 14 Apr. 2018. 28 Sep. 2018 <https://www.bustle.com/p/why-90s-kids-cant-get-over-the-90s-are-still-so-nostalgic-for-the-decade-56354>.Berg, Madeline. “The Simpsons Signs Renewal Deal for the Record Books.” Forbes. 4 Nov. 2016. 20 Nov. 2018 <https://www.forbes.com/sites/maddieberg/2016/11/04/the-simpsons-signs-renewal-deal-for-the-record-books/#264a50b61b21>.Booth, Paul. “Fan Euthanasia: A Thin Line between Love and Hate.” Everybody Hurts: Transitions, Endings, and Resurrections in Fan Cultures. Ed. Rebecca Williams. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 2018. 75-86.Bradley, Laura. “What Disney and Comcast’s Battle over Fox Means for Film and TV Fans.” Vanity Fair. 14 June 2018. 20 Nov. 2018 <https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2018/06/comcast-fox-bid-disney-merger-tv-film-future-explainer>.Brockington, Ariana. “Donald Trump Reconsiders His Life in Simpsons Video ‘A Tale of Two Trumps.” Variety. 23 Mar. 2018. 28 Sep. 2018 <https://variety.com/2018/politics/news/the-simpsons-donald-trump-a-tale-of-two-trumps-1202735526/>.Canning, Robert. “The Simpsons: ‘That 90s Show’ Review.” 28 Jan. 2008. 2 Oct. 2018 <https://au.ign.com/articles/2008/01/28/the-simpsons-that-90s-show-review>.Chappell, Les. “The Simpsons (Classic): ‘The Principal and the Pauper’.” AV Club. 28 June 2015. 20 Nov. 2018 <https://tv.avclub.com/the-simpsons-classic-the-principal-and-the-pauper-1798184317>.Cinematic. “The Principal and the Pauper: The Fall of The Simpsons.” 15 Aug. 2012. 20 Nov. 2018 <https://cinematicfilmblog.com/2012/08/15/the-principal-and-the-pauper-the-fall-of-the-simpsons/>.Culbertson, Alix. “The Simpsons Producer Responds to Apu Controversy.” Sky News. 30 Oct. 2018. 20 Nov. 2018 <https://news.sky.com/story/the-simpsons-indian-character-apu-axed-after-racial-controversy-11537982>.Davis, Amy M., Jemma Gilboy, and James Zborowski. “How Time Works in The Simpsons.” Animation: An Interdisciplinary Journal 10.3 (2015): 175-188.Friedenthal, Andrew. Retcon Game: Retroactive Continuity and the Hyperlinking of America. USA: University Press of Mississippi, 2017.Fury, Alexander. “The Return of the ‘90s.” New York Times. 13 July 2016. 28 Sep. 2018. <https://www.nytimes.com/2016/07/13/t-magazine/fashion/90s-fashion-revival.html>.Gray, Jonathan. “Antifandom and the Moral Text: Television without Pity and Textual Dislike.” American Behavioral Scientist 48.7 (2005): 840-858.Harmon, Steph. “‘Don’t Have a Cow’: The Simpsons Response to Apu Racism Row Criticised as ‘Toothless’.” The Guardian. 10 Apr. 2018. 28 Sep. 2018 <https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2018/apr/10/dont-have-a-cow-the-simpsons-response-to-apu-racism-row-criticised-as-toothless>.Holland, Travis. “Why The Simpsons Lost Its Way.” The Conversation. 3 Nov. 2016. 28 Sep. 2018. <https://theconversation.com/why-the-simpsons-has-lost-its-way-67845>.IMDB. “The Simpsons – That 90s Show.” 2 Oct. 2018 <https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1166961/>.Jenkins, Henry. Fans, Bloggers, and Gamers: Exploring Participatory Culture. New York: NYU P, 2006.Keveney, Bill. “The Simpsons Exclusive: Matt Groening (Mostly) Remembers the Show’s Record 636 Episodes.” USA Today. 27 Apr. 2018. 20 Nov. 2018 <https://www.usatoday.com/story/life/tv/2018/04/27/thesimpsons-matt-groening-new-record-fox-animated-series/524581002/>.Kostarelis, Stefan. “This Genius Chart That Tracks the Decline in The Simpsons Is Too Real”. Techly. 21 July 2017. 2 Oct. 2018 <https://www.techly.com.au/2017/07/21/british-man-binges-all-simpsons-episodes-in-a-month-charts-decline-in-shows-quality/>.Plante, Chris. “The Simpsons Jumped the Shark in One of Its Best Episodes”. The Verge. 22 Aug. 2014. 20 Nov. 2018 <https://www.theverge.com/2014/8/22/6056915/frank-grimes-the-simpsons-jump-the-shark>.Power, Kevin. “I Watched All 629 Episodes of The Simpsons in a Month. Here’s What I Learned.” Antihuman. 9 Feb. 2018. 1 Oct. 2018 <https://antihumansite.wordpress.com/2018/02/09/i-watched-all-629-episodes-of-the-simpsons-in-a-month-heres-what-i-learned/>.Rabin, Nathan, and Steven Hyden. “Crosstalk: Is It Time for The Simpsons to Call It a Day?” AV Club. 26 July 2007. 20 Nov. 2018 <https://tv.avclub.com/crosstalk-is-it-time-for-the-simpsons-to-call-it-a-day-1798211912>.Ramaswarmy, Chitra. “When Good TV Goes Bad: How The Simpsons Ended Up Gorging on Itself.” The Guardian. 24 Apr. 2017. 28 Sep. 2018 <https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2017/apr/24/jump-the-shark-when-good-tv-goes-bad-the-simpsons>.Schneider, Todd. “The Simpsons by the Data.” Todd W. Schneider’s Home Page. 2015. 28 Sep. 2018 <http://toddwschneider.com/posts/the-simpsons-by-the-data/>.Snierson, Dan. “Simpsons Showrunner on Homer’s ‘Cheating’ on Marge, RuPaul’s Guest Spot, Apu Controversy”. 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About half way through Yann Arthus-Bertrand’s film Home (2009) the narrator describes the fall of the Rapa Nui, the indigenous people of the Easter Islands. The narrator posits that the Rapa Nui culture collapsed due to extensive environmental degradation brought about by large-scale deforestation. The Rapa Nui cut down their massive native forests to clear spaces for agriculture, to heat their dwellings, to build canoes and, most importantly, to move their enormous rock sculptures—the Moai. The disappearance of their forests led to island-wide soil erosion and the gradual disappearance of arable land. Caught in the vice of overpopulation but with rapidly dwindling basic resources and no trees to build canoes, they were trapped on the island and watched helplessly as their society fell into disarray. The sequence ends with the narrator’s biting remark: “The real mystery of the Easter Islands is not how its strange statues got there, we know now; it's why the Rapa Nui didn't react in time.” In their unrelenting desire for development, the Rapa Nui appear to have overlooked the role the environment plays in maintaining a society. The island’s Moai accompanying the sequence appear as memento mori, a lesson in the mortality of human cultures brought about by their own misguided and short-sighted practices. Arthus-Bertrand’s Home, a film composed almost entirely of aerial photographs, bears witness to present-day environmental degradation and climate change, constructing society as a fragile structure built upon and sustained by the environment. Home is a call to recognise how contemporary practices of post-industrial societies have come to shape the environment and how they may impact the habitability of Earth in the near future. Through reflexivity and a ritualised structure the text invites spectators to look at themselves in a new light and remake their self-image in the wake of global environmental risk by embracing new, alternative core practices based on balance and interconnectedness. Arthus-Bertrand frames climate change not as a burden, but as a moment of profound realisation of the potential for change and humans ability to create a desirable future through hope and our innate capacity for renewal. This article examines how Arthus-Bertrand’s ritualised construction of climate change aims to remake viewers’ perception of present-day environmental degradation and investigates Home’s place in contemporary climate change communication discourse. Climate change, in its capacity to affect us globally, is considered a world risk. The most recent peer-reviewed Synthesis Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change suggests that the concentration of atmospheric greenhouse gases has increased markedly since human industrialisation in the 18th century. Moreover, human activities, such as fossil fuel burning and agricultural practices, are “very likely” responsible for the resulting increase in temperature rise (IPPC 37). The increased global temperatures and the subsequent changing weather patterns have a direct and profound impact on the physical and biological systems of our planet, including shrinking glaciers, melting permafrost, coastal erosion, and changes in species distribution and reproduction patterns (Rosenzweig et al. 353). Studies of global security assert that these physiological changes are expected to increase the likelihood of humanitarian disasters, food and water supply shortages, and competition for resources thus resulting in a destabilisation of global safety (Boston et al. 1–2). Human behaviour and dominant practices of modernity are now on a path to materially impact the future habitability of our home, Earth. In contemporary post-industrial societies, however, climate change remains an elusive, intangible threat. Here, the Arctic-bound species forced to adapt to milder climates or the inhabitants of low-lying Pacific islands seeking refuge in mainland cities are removed from the everyday experience of the controlled and regulated environments of homes, offices, and shopping malls. Diverse research into the mediated and mediatised nature of the environment suggests that rather than from first-hand experiences and observations, the majority of our knowledge concerning the environment now comes from its representation in the mass media (Hamilton 4; Stamm et al. 220; Cox 2). Consequently the threat of climate change is communicated and constructed through the news media, entertainment and lifestyle programming, and various documentaries and fiction films. It is therefore the construction (the representation of the risk in various discourses) that shapes people’s perception and experience of the phenomenon, and ultimately influences behaviour and instigates social response (Beck 213). By drawing on and negotiating society’s dominant discourses, environmental mediation defines spectators’ perceptions of the human-nature relationship and subsequently their roles and responsibilities in the face of environmental risks. Maxwell Boykoff asserts that contemporary modern society’s mediatised representations of environmental degradation and climate change depict the phenomena as external to society’s primary social and economic concerns (449). Julia Corbett argues that this is partly because environmental protection and sustainable behaviour are often at odds with the dominant social paradigms of consumerism, economic growth, and materialism (175). Similarly, Rowan Howard-Williams suggests that most media texts, especially news, do not emphasise the link between social practices, such as consumerist behaviour, and their environmental consequences because they contradict dominant social paradigms (41). The demands contemporary post-industrial societies make on the environment to sustain economic growth, consumer culture, and citizens’ comfortable lives in air-conditioned homes and offices are often left unarticulated. While the media coverage of environmental risks may indeed have contributed to “critical misperceptions, misleading debates, and divergent understandings” (Boykoff 450) climate change possesses innate characteristics that amplify its perception in present-day post-industrial societies as a distant and impersonal threat. Climate change is characterised by temporal and spatial de-localisation. The gradual increase in global temperature and its physical and biological consequences are much less prominent than seasonal changes and hence difficult to observe on human time-scales. Moreover, while research points to the increased probability of extreme climatic events such as droughts, wild fires, and changes in weather patterns (IPCC 48), they take place over a wide range of geographical locations and no single event can be ultimately said to be the result of climate change (Maibach and Roser-Renouf 145). In addition to these observational obstacles, political partisanship, vested interests in the current status quo, and general resistance to profound change all play a part in keeping us one step removed from the phenomenon of climate change. The distant and impersonal nature of climate change coupled with the “uncertainty over consequences, diverse and multiple engaged interests, conflicting knowledge claims, and high stakes” (Lorenzoni et al. 65) often result in repression, rejection, and denial, removing the individual’s responsibility to act. Research suggests that, due to its unique observational obstacles in contemporary post-industrial societies, climate change is considered a psychologically distant event (Pawlik 559), one that is not personally salient due to the “perceived distance and remoteness [...] from one’s everyday experience” (O’Neill and Nicholson-Cole 370). In an examination of the barriers to behaviour change in the face of psychologically distant events, Robert Gifford argues that changing individuals’ perceptions of the issue-domain is one of the challenges of countering environmental inertia—the lack of initiative for environmentally sustainable social action (5). To challenge the status quo a radically different construction of the environment and the human-nature relationship is required to transform our perception of global environmental risks and ultimately result in environmentally consequential social action. Yann Arthus-Bertrand’s Home is a ritualised construction of contemporary environmental degradation and climate change which takes spectators on a rite of passage to a newfound understanding of the human-nature relationship. Transformation through re-imagining individuals’ roles, responsibilities, and practices is an intrinsic quality of rituals. A ritual charts a subjects path from one state of consciousness to the next, resulting in a meaningful change of attitudes (Deflem 8). Through a lifelong study of African rituals British cultural ethnographer Victor Turner refined his concept of rituals in a modern social context. Turner observed that rituals conform to a three-phased processural form (The Ritual Process 13–14). First, in the separation stage, the subjects are selected and removed from their fixed position in the social structure. Second, they enter an in-between and ambiguous liminal stage, characterised by a “partial or complete separation of the subject from everyday existence” (Deflem 8). Finally, imbued with a new perspective of the outside world borne out of the experience of reflexivity, liminality, and a cathartic cleansing, subjects are reintegrated into the social reality in a new, stable state. The three distinct stages make the ritual an emotionally charged, highly personal experience that “demarcates the passage from one phase to another in the individual’s life-cycle” (Turner, “Symbols” 488) and actively shapes human attitudes and behaviour. Adhering to the three-staged processural form of the ritual, Arthus-Bertrand guides spectators towards a newfound understanding of their roles and responsibilities in creating a desirable future. In the first stage—the separation—aerial photography of Home alienates viewers from their anthropocentric perspectives of the outside world. This establishes Earth as a body, and unearths spectators’ guilt and shame in relation to contemporary world risks. Aerial photography strips landscapes of their conventional qualities of horizon, scale, and human reference. As fine art photographer Emmet Gowin observes, “when one really sees an awesome, vast place, our sense of wholeness is reorganised [...] and the body seems always to diminish” (qtd. in Reynolds 4). Confronted with a seemingly infinite sublime landscape from above, the spectator’s “body diminishes” as they witness Earth’s body gradually taking shape. Home’s rushing rivers of Indonesia are akin to blood flowing through the veins and the Siberian permafrost seems like the texture of skin in extreme close-up. Arthus-Bertrand establishes a geocentric embodiment to force spectators to perceive and experience the environmental degradation brought about by the dominant social practices of contemporary post-industrial modernity. The film-maker visualises the maltreatment of the environment through suggested abuse of the Earth’s body. Images of industrial agricultural practices in the United States appear to leave scratches and scars on the landscape, and as a ship crosses the Arctic ice sheets of the Northwest Passage the boat glides like the surgeon’s knife cutting through the uppermost layer of the skin. But the deep blue water that’s revealed in the wake of the craft suggests a flesh and body now devoid of life, a suffering Earth in the wake of global climatic change. Arthus-Bertrand’s images become the sublime evidence of human intervention in the environment and the reflection of present-day industrialisation materially altering the face of Earth. The film-maker exploits spectators’ geocentric perspective and sensibility to prompt reflexivity, provide revelations about the self, and unearth the forgotten shame and guilt in having inadvertently caused excessive environmental degradation. Following the sequences establishing Earth as the body of the text Arthus-Bertrand returns spectators to their everyday “natural” environment—the city. Having witnessed and endured the pain and suffering of Earth, spectators now gaze at the skyscrapers standing bold and tall in the cityscape with disillusionment. The pinnacles of modern urban development become symbols of arrogance and exploitation: structures forced upon the landscape. Moreover, the images of contemporary cityscapes in Home serve as triggers for ritual reflexivity, allowing the spectator to “perceive the self [...] as a distanced ‘other’ and hence achieve a partial ‘self-transcendence’” (Beck, Comments 491). Arthus-Bertrand’s aerial photographs of Los Angeles, New York, and Tokyo fold these distinct urban environments into one uniform fusion of glass, metal, and concrete devoid of life. The uniformity of these cultural landscapes prompts spectators to add the missing element: the human. Suddenly, the homes and offices of desolate cityscapes are populated by none other than us, looking at ourselves from a unique vantage point. The geocentric sensibility the film-maker invoked with the images of the suffering Earth now prompt a revelation about the self as spectators see their everyday urban environments in a new light. Their homes and offices become blemishes on the face of the Earth: its inhabitants, including the spectators themselves, complicit in the excessive mistreatment of the planet. The second stage of the ritual allows Arthus-Bertrand to challenge dominant social paradigms of present day post-industrial societies and introduce new, alternative moral directives to govern our habits and attitudes. Following the separation, ritual subjects enter an in-between, threshold stage, one unencumbered by the spatial, temporal, and social boundaries of everyday existence. Turner posits that a subjects passage through this liminal stage is necessary to attain psychic maturation and successful transition to a new, stable state at the end of the ritual (The Ritual Process 97). While this “betwixt and between” (Turner, The Ritual Process 95) state may be a fleeting moment of transition, it makes for a “lived experience [that] transforms human beings cognitively, emotionally, and morally.” (Horvath et al. 3) Through a change of perceptions liminality paves the way toward meaningful social action. Home places spectators in a state of liminality to contrast geocentric and anthropocentric views. Arthus-Bertrand contrasts natural and human-made environments in terms of diversity. The narrator’s description of the “miracle of life” is followed by images of trees seemingly defying gravity, snow-covered summits among mountain ranges, and a whale in the ocean. Grandeur and variety appear to be inherent qualities of biodiversity on Earth, qualities contrasted with images of the endless, uniform rectangular greenhouses of Almeria, Spain. This contrast emphasises the loss of variety in human achievements and the monotony mass-production brings to the landscape. With the image of a fire burning atop a factory chimney, Arthus-Bertrand critiques the change of pace and distortion of time inherent in anthropocentric views, and specifically in contemporary modernity. Here, the flames appear to instantly eat away at resources that have taken millions of years to form, bringing anthropocentric and geocentric temporality into sharp contrast. A sequence showing a night time metropolis underscores this distinction. The glittering cityscape is lit by hundreds of lights in skyscrapers in an effort, it appears, to mimic and surpass daylight and thus upturn the natural rhythm of life. As the narrator remarks, in our present-day environments, “days are now the pale reflections of nights.” Arthus-Bertrand also uses ritual liminality to mark the present as a transitory, threshold moment in human civilisation. The film-maker contrasts the spectre of our past with possible visions of the future to mark the moment of now as a time when humanity is on the threshold of two distinct states of mind. The narrator’s descriptions of contemporary post-industrial society’s reliance on non-renewable resources and lack of environmentally sustainable agricultural practices condemn the past and warn viewers of the consequences of continuing such practices into the future. Exploring the liminal present Arthus-Bertrand proposes distinctive futurescapes for humankind. On the one hand, the narrator’s description of California’s “concentration camp style cattle farming” suggests that humankind will live in a future that feeds from the past, falling back on frames of horrors and past mistakes. On the other hand, the example of Costa Rica, a nation that abolished its military and dedicated the budget to environmental conservation, is recognition of our ability to re-imagine our future in the face of global risk. Home introduces myths to imbue liminality with the alternative dominant social paradigm of ecology. By calling upon deep-seated structures myths “touch the heart of society’s emotional, spiritual and intellectual consciousness” (Killingsworth and Palmer 176) and help us understand and come to terms with complex social, economic, and scientific phenomena. With the capacity to “pattern thought, beliefs and practices,” (Maier 166) myths are ideal tools in communicating ritual liminality and challenging contemporary post-industrial society’s dominant social paradigms. The opening sequence of Home, where the crescent Earth is slowly revealed in the darkness of space, is an allusion to creation: the genesis myth. Accompanied only by a gentle hum our home emerges in brilliant blue, white, and green-brown encompassing most of the screen. It is as if darkness and chaos disintegrated and order, life, and the elements were created right before our eyes. Akin to the Earthrise image taken by the astronauts of Apollo 8, Home’s opening sequence underscores the notion that our home is a unique spot in the blackness of space and is defined and circumscribed by the elements. With the opening sequence Arthus-Bertrand wishes to impart the message of interdependence and reliance on elements—core concepts of ecology. Balance, another key theme in ecology, is introduced with an allusion to the Icarus myth in a sequence depicting Dubai. The story of Icarus’s fall from the sky after flying too close to the sun is a symbolic retelling of hubris—a violent pride and arrogance punishable by nemesis—destruction, which ultimately restores balance by forcing the individual back within the limits transgressed (Littleton 712). In Arthus-Bertrand’s portrayal of Dubai, the camera slowly tilts upwards on the Burj Khalifa tower, the tallest human-made structure ever built. The construction works on the tower explicitly frame humans against the bright blue sky in their attempt to reach ever further, transgressing their limitations much like the ill-fated Icarus. Arthus-Bertrand warns that contemporary modernity does not strive for balance or moderation, and with climate change we may have brought our nemesis upon ourselves. By suggesting new dominant paradigms and providing a critique of current maxims, Home’s retelling of myths ultimately sees spectators through to the final stage of the ritual. The last phase in the rite of passage “celebrates and commemorates transcendent powers,” (Deflem 8) marking subjects’ rebirth to a new status and distinctive perception of the outside world. It is at this stage that Arthus-Bertrand resolves the emotional distress uncovered in the separation phase. The film-maker uses humanity’s innate capacity for creation and renewal as a cathartic cleansing aimed at reconciling spectators’ guilt and shame in having inadvertently exacerbated global environmental degradation. Arthus-Bertrand identifies renewable resources as the key to redeeming technology, human intervention in the landscape, and finally humanity itself. Until now, the film-maker pictured modernity and technology, evidenced in his portrayal of Dubai, as synonymous with excess and disrespect for the interconnectedness and balance of elements on Earth. The final sequence shows a very different face of technology. Here, we see a mechanical sea-snake generating electricity by riding the waves off the coast of Scotland and solar panels turning towards the sun in the Sahara desert. Technology’s redemption is evidenced in its ability to imitate nature—a move towards geocentric consciousness (a lesson learned from the ritual’s liminal stage). Moreover, these human-made structures, unlike the skyscrapers earlier in the film, appear a lot less invasive in the landscape and speak of moderation and union with nature. With the above examples Arthus-Bertrand suggests that humanity can shed the greed that drove it to dig deeper and deeper into the Earth to acquire non-renewable resources such as oil and coal, what the narrator describes as “treasures buried deep.” The incorporation of principles of ecology, such as balance and interconnectedness, into humanity’s behaviour ushers in reconciliation and ritual cleansing in Home. Following the description of the move toward renewable resources, the narrator reveals that “worldwide four children out of five attend school, never has learning been given to so many human beings” marking education, innovation, and creativity as the true inexhaustible resources on Earth. Lastly, the description of Antarctica in Home is the essence of Arthus-Bertrand’s argument for our innate capacity to create, not simply exploit and destroy. Here, the narrator describes the continent as possessing “immense natural resources that no country can claim for itself, a natural reserve devoted to peace and science, a treaty signed by 49 nations has made it a treasure shared by all humanity.” Innovation appears to fuel humankind’s transcendence to a state where it is capable of compassion, unification, sharing, and finally creating treasures. With these examples Arthus-Bertrand suggests that humanity has an innate capacity for creative energy that awaits authentic expression and can turn humankind from destroyer to creator. In recent years various risk communication texts have explicitly addressed climate change, endeavouring to instigate environmentally consequential social action. Home breaks discursive ground among them through its ritualistic construction which seeks to transform spectators’ perception, and in turn roles and responsibilities, in the face of global environmental risks. Unlike recent climate change media texts such as An Inconvenient Truth (2006), The 11th Hour (2007), The Age of Stupid (2009), Carbon Nation (2010) and Earth: The Operator’s Manual (2011), Home eludes simple genre classification. On the threshold of photography and film, documentary and fiction, Arthus-Bertrand’s work is best classified as an advocacy film promoting public debate and engagement with a universal concern—the state of the environment. The film’s website, available in multiple languages, contains educational material, resources to organise public screenings, and a link to GoodPlanet.info: a website dedicated to environmentalism, including legal tools and initiatives to take action. The film-maker’s approach to using Home as a basis for education and raising awareness corresponds to Antonio Lopez’s critique of contemporary mass-media communications of global risks. Lopez rebukes traditional forms of mediatised communication that place emphasis on the imparting of knowledge and instead calls for a participatory, discussion-driven, organic media approach, akin to a communion or a ritual (106). Moreover, while texts often place a great emphasis on the messenger, for instance Al Gore in An Inconvenient Truth, Leonardo DiCaprio in The 11th Hour, or geologist Dr. Richard Alley in Earth: The Operator’s Manual, Home’s messenger remains unseen—the narrator is only identified at the very end of the film among the credits. The film-maker’s decision to forego a central human character helps dissociate the message from the personality of the messenger which aids in establishing and maintaining the geocentric sensibility of the text. Finally, the ritual’s invocation and cathartic cleansing of emotional distress enables Home to at once acknowledge our environmentally destructive past habits and point to a hopeful, environmentally sustainable future. While The Age of Stupid mostly focuses on humanity’s present and past failures to respond to an imminent environmental catastrophe, Carbon Nation, with the tagline “A climate change solutions movie that doesn’t even care if you believe in climate change,” only explores the potential future business opportunities in turning towards renewable resources and environmentally sustainable practices. The three-phased processural form of the ritual allows for a balance of backward and forward-looking, establishing the possibility of change and renewal in the face of world risk. The ritual is a transformative experience. As Turner states, rituals “interrupt the flow of social life and force a group to take cognizance of its behaviour in relation to its own values, and even question at times the value of those values” (“Dramatic Ritual” 82). Home, a ritualised media text, is an invitation to look at our world, its dominant social paradigms, and the key element within that world—ourselves—with new eyes. It makes explicit contemporary post-industrial society’s dependence on the environment, highlights our impact on Earth, and reveals our complicity in bringing about a contemporary world risk. The ritual structure and the self-reflexivity allow Arthus-Bertrand to transform climate change into a personally salient issue. This bestows upon the spectator the responsibility to act and to reconcile the spectre of the past with the vision of the future.Acknowledgments The author would like to thank Dr. Angi Buettner whose support, guidance, and supervision has been invaluable in preparing this article. 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