Academic literature on the topic 'Pornographie – Société – France'

I first met with the enigmatic Dutch artist-couple, Zoot and Genant, in the Summer of 2000. We talked about their performances as part of the collective Artporn and their later work as a duo. Zoot and Genant combine the best of Amsterdam hippie culture with advanced technological networking. As good Dutch citizens, they intervene in global media debates with bodily performances and a harsh critique of consumerist sex industries. A uniquely burlesque quality pervades their work, as their performances take on dreamy and raw forms. Performance modes are invented ‘from the bottom up’ with performances such as Oysterbarpiece (1995) and Anal Restaurant (1996) translating clever concepts into physically bawdy gestures. In Anal Restaurant, a naked performer is tied to a platform, his/her bottom stuffed with mashed potatoes, and the mixture released into the gallery when the fastly rotating platform is abruptly brought to a halt. In Oysterbarpiece, Genant asks participants to suck oysters from between her legs. She stands on her head with legs wide open and ‘gazes back’ at the participant by taking his/her picture with a camera. By assuming this position, she wants to make audiences aware of their voyeuristic role by ‘reversing their gaze’, as she argues that every voyeur is a sexual being to somebody’s else’s gazing eye. Reversing the gaze means opening up new and uncensored spaces of eroticism – as they write in the Irotic Manifesto: “The historically situated gaze is turned upside down and no longer do we stare into a void. We create many more spaces than are actually allowed … You may enter space with a certain literary baggage, the handcuffs of Sacher-Masoch welded to the wonders of Rabelais” (Artporn). Theories of erotic space are tested in community spaces where special attention is paid to the strong grip of commodified sex regimes on the audience. Zoot and Genant circulate their own sexual energy as ‘art’, distributing it to audiences who react sometimes with their own heightened energy and sometimes half-paralyzed. Zoot explains that the difference between live performances and mediated performances is enormous, as live performances are short-lived and cannot conceal the performer’s body or his/her state of excitement. They opted for an extended internet performance with Fucking Retreat 8x8x72. For this, they held an‘artist retreat’ in the Amsterdam Gallery De Praktijk and demonstrated their sexual intercourse by means of a webcam. Going back to a Taoist ritual, they fucked eight times a day for eight days in a row, with 72 thrusts on each particular occasion and an attempt not to reach orgasm. With this extremely popular web action, they reached a high/height in media activism, as the loving couple became the medium itself, and they were able to manipulate cameras and stream their digital images to hordes of sexually conditioned net viewers. Philosopher Cees Maris signals the performance as ‘post-revolutionary’ as the couple represent the integration of both monogamy and polymorphous perversity in contemporary society. Libidot: Did you want to hold a ‘sexual think-tank’ with Fucking Retreat 8x8x72 and distribute it as free porn on the Internet? Genant: 8x8x72 was an abstraction-exercise in making love within our relationship. It was a performance where we were sealed inside a gallery and used a webcam to enable viewers to participate in the concept of the experiment. But we never intended to distribute ‘pornographic’ images. For many years we have separated the realm of pleasure from that of pornography. We wanted people to participate in the abstract experiment itself, the result of which only we, as performers, could feel in our bodies. Zoot: What we did was an everyday action – fucking – stretched out over a manipulated time-line. As performers it was a challenge to play with the time-line and make it more complex because, on the actual stage, the interaction with the audience is short-lived and intense. It was a very complex experience for me, to engage in such an extremely intimate action in front of a webcam, making love to Genant. A maximum viewing public was created by the computer and cameras, which were also acting as a filter between ourselves and the audience. This filter gave us the possibility of reaching a high level of intimacy and softness, together with lots of laughter – just the way we ourselves are. But it took a while before we figured that out. Once we loosened up and incorporated the technology of ‘streaming’ into the performance, I became aware of the relationship with the public and all the machine-buttons we could manipulate. That is very different from reality television or commercial porn sites, where the machines are owned and steered by a company. The entire complex of autonomous media activism made a big impression on me. We actually accomplished one of our long-time artistic goals, that is, to become the medium itself and to be completely autonomous. Genet: The technological distribution of ‘live’ events has become essential after 9/11. We used machinery welded to physical effort to offer the viewer many options, including going through our web archives. It is momentarily frightening to perform such actions, to do actions in front of a camera using autonomous media. Libidot: You are wary of the Internet’s sexual energy, as you write in your announcement: “Zoot and Genant laugh at those who are excessively sexualized by Internet, they hover above the hypererotic nausea of gazing eyes and digital drifters, performing cyber-squatting amidst digital slavery of cybersexual commodification”. How did your own sexual energy transfer to remote viewers? Zoot: In the first instance the performance was food for the average voyeuristic web user, as the strength of his/her unconscious pornographic desire was nurtured by recognizable movements. Sex is, indeed, the lubricant of the Internet. But the images we delivered to the Internet were of a different nature and, hopefully, caused a mutation in the subconscious pornographic gaze of the viewer. Lots of pleasing reactions resonated in the city. I believe that people started experimenting themselves. I heard from ‘real’ men that they found it hard to believe that we fucked 64 times in 8 days. Why are people looking for quantity rather than quality? In order to be really effective one would have to get feedback from all of those people, but it was hard for us to plough through the endless piles of ‘chat-diarrhea’ in the chatroom. Libidot: Bianca Stigter’s review in NRC Handelsblad indicates that webcams documenting ‘everydayness’ have flooded the Internet and that your work is in line with this trend: “Their webcam is in tune with all the other webcams on the Internet that give access to life here and there, everywhere. In a zoo in Singapore a monkey is eating an apple. Tourists in Times Square are crossing the road. In the Lauriergracht in Amsterdam, two people are fucking” (Stigter). Would it be possible for your performance to be perceived as part of an expanding webcam ‘amateur porn’ industry? Genant: We do not want to add anything to the porn industry. Ours was an art experiment, a physical performance around the subject of physical love. I don’t think that lions in Artis Zoo or whales in Oahu are fucking in a similar series, but our performances do reach similar mass audiences to the Tour de France or American football. Of course we got a big kick when the statistics revealed that we were visited by viewers from 48 countries, including Easter Island. Just the idea that on Easter Island, on the other side of the globe, Rapa Nui in winter time, people were watching a performance in an Amsterdam gallery and chatting with somebody from Japan about the difference between an imagined performance and the actual event: that was a big ‘opening’ for us. Libidot: How does Taoist ritual affect your actual relationship and your sex life? Genant: Taoism is about making a commitment to a partner, cutting through random animal attractions and irritations. Artificial seduction rituals fall apart after a couple of days. In our performance, there was no extended foreplay or afterplay, just an abstention of climax. Before the climax dissipated, our bodies recharged with energy and returned to remembering moments of enjoyment, each time a little more quickly. I got an energy charge from top to toe and by the time I wanted to surrender and come completely, my bodily cells had been exposed to a routine pattern. Abstention then is like a coitus interruptus, a spectacular thing to feel from a partner whom you love. The numbers 8 and 64 are magical. I felt the symbolism of an alchemical wedding as we tuned into the mantra of a fully controlled electronic network. It felt like deafening energy, rather than lust or an act of procreation. The effect of this was very rewarding and, afterwards, we lingered in a state of creative sexual energy for a week. When we arrived home we were free to do whatever we wanted and let the holy juices flow. We realized love was a blessing. We made love day after day and gave energy to each other, as if we were in love for the first time. Sweet monogamic love, we embraced and worshipped her. (Interview translated into English by Katrien Jacobs) Works Cited Artporn. Irotic Manifesto. Unpublished document, 5 Stigter, Bianca. “Een Hobby als Vissen”. NRC Handelsblad, 5 July 2002 (author’s own translation) Stigter, Bianca. “Een Hobby als Vissen, NRC Handelsblad, 5 July 2002 (author’s own translation) To order Zoot and Genant’s 8x8x72 Fucking Retreat on CD-Rom, look for their artist profile on http://www.depraktijk.nl Zoot and Genant can be contacted at zootengenant@newyork.com Links mailto:zootengenant@newyork.com http://www.depraktijk.nl Citation reference for this article Substitute your date of access for Dn Month Year etc... MLA Style (a.k.a Libidot), Katrien Jacobs. "‘Streaming Physical Love’" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5.6 (2002). Dn Month Year < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0211/streamingphysicallove.php>. APA Style (a.k.a Libidot), K. J., (2002, Nov 20). ‘Streaming Physical Love’. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture, 5,(6). Retrieved Month Dn, Year, from http://www.media-culture.org.au/0211/streamingphysicallove.html

Paul Virilio. The Information Bomb. London: Verso, 2000. 145 pp., ISBN: 1-85984-745-5 (hardback). Born in Paris in 1932, the French political and 'technocultural' theorist Paul Virilio is the leading exponent of the idea that 'dromology' (the logic of speed) stands at the centre of the political formation and technocultural transformation of the contemporary world. Virilio is an architect of the 'Brutalist' school and political 'critic of the art of technology' as well as a Husserlian phenomenologist and post-Einsteinian analyst of technoculture. In recent years Virilio has developed his own political approach to the technocultural and experiential effects of speed and technoscience on the organisation of cyberspace and cyberculture. It is an approach that is increasingly being adopted and adapted by a variety of pre-eminent thinkers on the Left such as Jean Baudrillard, Slavoj Zizek and Andre Gorz. As the son of a Breton mother and an Italian communist father in Nazi-occupied France, Virilio spent the majority of World War II as an anxious evacuee in Nantes. In 1950 he converted to Christianity in the fraternity of 'worker-priests'. Virilio was educated at the L'École des Métiers d'Art in Paris and first became a craftsman in stained glass before becoming a sort of intellectual provocateur and co-editor of Architecture Principe, an architectural group and occasional review devoted to radical political and architectural experimentation. Between 1963 and 1966 Virilio dedicated his time to studying the architecture of war and to the construction of the 'bunker church' of Sainte-Bernadette du Banlay at Nevers. Virilio became politically active during the 1968 May revolt and this led to an irrevocable split with his partner in Architecture Principe, the architect Claude Parent. In 1969 Virilio was instated as a professor of architecture at the École Speciale d'Architecture at the behest of the students there, a position he occupied until his retirement in 1997. Virilio's major work is Speed & Politics: An Essay on Dromology (1986), written, he maintains, to raise the political question of speed as the hidden side of economic development. Virilio's recent texts such as Open Sky (1997) and now The Information Bomb can therefore be regarded as important advances in his current work on the politics of techno, or, cyberculture. As the son of a Breton mother and an Italian communist father in Nazi-occupied France, Virilio spent the majority of World War II as an anxious evacuee in Nantes. In 1950 he converted to Christianity in the fraternity of 'worker-priests'. Virilio was educated at the L'École des Métiers d'Art in Paris and first became a craftsman in stained glass before becoming a sort of intellectual provocateur and co-editor of Architecture Principe, an architectural group and occasional review devoted to radical political and architectural experimentation. Between 1963 and 1966 Virilio dedicated his time to studying the architecture of war and to the construction of the 'bunker church' of Sainte-Bernadette du Banlay at Nevers. Virilio became politically active during the 1968 May revolt and this led to an irrevocable split with his partner in Architecture Principe, the architect Claude Parent. In 1969 Virilio was instated as a professor of architecture at the École Speciale d'Architecture at the behest of the students there, a position he occupied until his retirement in 1997. Virilio's major work is Speed & Politics: An Essay on Dromology (1986), written, he maintains, to raise the political question of speed as the hidden side of economic development. Virilio's recent texts such as Open Sky (1997) and now The Information Bomb can therefore be regarded as important advances in his current work on the politics of techno, or, cyberculture. Virilio's newest political and technocultural work, The Information Bomb, is set to become an important text of intellectual and dromological analysis. On its opening page Virilio quotes Werner Heisenberg, the German physicist, chief architect of quantum mechanics and founder of the 'uncertainty principle': 'No one can say what will be "real" for people when the wars which are now beginning come to an end'. Briefly, Heisenberg's uncertainty principle states that if a simultaneous calculation is made of the location and speed of a particle then, no matter how faithful the calculations, there is always an uncertainty in the values acquired. It deals with the simultaneous calculation of energy and time. The uncertainty occurs because the act of perceiving the system interferes with it in an unpredictable manner. But uncertainty is only significant at the atomic and subatomic levels and at these levels throws the principle of causality into confusion. Virilio's The Information Bomb therefore examines the dromological and uncertain relationships between the 'reality' of the war universe, speed and, crucially, our perception of its main causalities. The key question and the first sentence of Virilio's book is: 'The civilianisation or militarisation of science?' Virilio answers by describing what he calls the catastrophes of postmodern technoscience and globalisation, Americanisation, biotechnology, Internet pornography and the advertising industry in the most uncompromising terms. Virilio's riposte to the question is already contained in the book's title. This is because, for him, since the end of World War II, the militarisation of science and the construction of two kinds of bomb have overshadowed civilian life. The first is the atom bomb, 'which is capable of using the energy of radioactivity to smash matter'. The second is the information bomb, 'which is capable of using the interactivity of information to wreck the peace between nations'. Virilio delineates the existence of the information bomb, of an explosion of mediated misery around the world, in terms of the deterioration of language and the sheer seductive power of TV and computer screens, the acceleration of history and the emergence of new inter-generational conflicts. Virilio forcefully argues that the advent of the information bomb requires the creation of a new type of social deterrence if nations are to avoid the 'fission' of their 'social cores' as they enter into the uncertain and often shocking world of chronopolitics. For this is a topsy-turvy world where neo-liberalism confronts 'cyberfeminism' and the military-scientific complex contemplates the arrival of 'cyberwar' and 'grey ecology' (the pollution of distances) under the sign of cinematic disinformation from Hollywood and the technological transformation of work through the introduction of mobile phones and 'zero-hour' contracts. Or, as Virilio says at one point in The Information Bomb: in today's 'dromocratic' capitalism, when the biotech corporation calls, 'you come running'. It would, though, be incorrect to view Virilio's political opposition to the uncritical acceptance of technoculture and the explosion of the information bomb as a wholly pessimistic stance on the spread of neo-liberalism in realms such as the multimedia. Virilio's work is, for example, in no way analogous to that of Baudrillard, the intellectual high priest of postmodernism. In truth, Virilio manifestly frames his recent writings in relation to a guarded optimism concerning what I have elsewhere called his 'hypermodern' technocultural theory: a theory involved with the acceleration and dislocation of modern forms of thought about the contemporary world and how it is depicted. It is therefore perfectly plausible to derive from Virilio's dromological texts a scientifically 'uncertain' conception of 'reality' that focusses on the concepts of hypermodernism and 'hypermodernity'. The latter is an idea centred on coming to terms with the speeding-up of historical processes and a critical analysis of modernity based on a political perception of technoculture that is catastrophic. In this way, Virilio typically conceives of the developments he documents in The Information Bomb not as the psychoanalytic problems of progress but as the technoscientific and 'excessive' displacement of them. It is a conceptualisation that is evident in his dromological and dynamic writings on the subject of 'information superhighways' and the 'full range of communications disturbances acquired over the recent centuries of technology'. 'In this field', Virilio says, progress 'acts like a forensic scientist on us' since it violates 'each bodily orifice'. But such 'brutal incursions' do not merely influence individuals; they colonise them. For Virilio, then, progress 'heaps up, accumulates and condenses in each of us the full range of (visual, social, psycho-motor, affective, sexual, etc.) detrital disorders which it has taken on with each innovation, each with their full complement of specific injuries'. All criticism of technology having disappeared, 'we have slid unconsciously from pure technology to techno-culture and, lastly, to the dogmatism of a totalitarian techno-cult...' As can be ascertained from the above examples, Virilio's work sits uneasily with almost all the prevailing paradigms and methodological approaches currently on offer. Chasing a multitude of Foucauldian discontinuities and shape-shifting Deleuzian inflected 'lines of flight' simultaneously, The Information Bomb can thus be seen as a reflection of his self-professed 'anarcho-Christianity'. It is a methodological stance, political perspective and religious position Virilio shares to some extent with the author of The Technological Society (1964), the late Jacques Ellul. Viewed from this angle, Virilio's oppositional and overtly political writings on the 'hypermodern condition' present a comprehensible methodological outlook. It is, however, an outlook that is somewhat at odds with the political and intellectual terrain occupied by 'transpolitical' postmodernists such as Baudrillard, 'poststructuralist anarchists' like Michel Foucault and Gilles Deleuze and the deconstructionist and 'spectral Marxist' Jacques Derrida. Nonetheless, it would be a mistake to imagine that Virilio's rather abstract writings in The Information Bomb opposing the rise of neo-liberalism and the hypermodern condition have not touched a nerve in France. Left-leaning theoreticians and the editors of newspapers such as Le Monde Diplomatique regularly pursue Virilio's forthright opinions in the form of articles and interviews on everything from Fukuyama's The End of History and the Last Man (1992) to his own thoughts on the end of geography and technoculture. Virilio is therefore a very creative political theorist who articulates himself with equal ease in academic and non-specialist technocultural works. Unlike Foucault, Virilio is the personification of the 'engaged intellectual'. Rather than simply opting for the life of a professor of architecture at the École Speciale d' Architecture, Virilio has always chosen to communicate his ideas to as wide an audience as possible, a strategy that earned him a 'National Award for Criticism' in 1987. Virilio's contemporary writings thus necessarily involve a dromological, political and technocultural encounter with the militarisation of science in the shape of the Internet. Even so, unlike Virilio's earlier texts such as Open Sky (1997), in The Information Bomb Virilio does not merely concentrate his gaze on society's apparent need for speed but, decisively, on its present-day extension into pornography and advertising and their integration into the commercialisation of the art world. Describing the 1997 London Royal Academy exhibition entitled 'Sensation' ostensibly held to present young British artists, Virilio suggests that, like many others, in actuality, this exhibition was designed and presented by 'the sex-culture-advertising movement'. This is because the '110 works on display (a portrait of child-murderer Myra Hindley, casts of childlike bodies with mouths replaced by phalluses, etc.) belonged, without exception, to Charles Saatchi, one of Britain's great advertising moguls'. What is at issue here for Virilio is the recognition that, like the need for speed and the example of the Internet, the distinctions between the world of pornography, the world of art and the world of advertising have all but been obliterated in the name of nothing more profound than 'breaking down the last taboos'. However, in Virilio's hypermodern conception of the 'terminal arts', a 'confrontation between a tortured body and an automatic camera' not only signifies the coming of the 'sex-culture-advertising-complex' but, equally importantly, the onset of 'endocolonisation' or, what takes place when militarised technoscience colonises the human body with the aim of reducing every member of humanity that has 'had its day' to the status of a 'specimen'. The political critiques provided by Virilio in The Information Bomb are a welcome development. For, today, it is sometimes all too easy to criticise the discipline of cultural studies for its celebration of political, technological and cultural différance without any corresponding recognition of economic and other inequalities founded on class, gender and race. Moreover, Virilio's fervent and occasionally maniacal critique of the art of technology stands out because it stretches from political and technocultural studies to economic and film studies, sometimes in the space of a single paragraph. Taking in Hollywood directors and obvious film productions such as Jan de Bont's Speed as well as the work of French cinematic pioneers like the Lumière brothers', Virilio's The Information Bomb is an important publication. But, unlike numerous other 'cybercultural' tomes, the significance of this book is derived from the fact that it also manages to extend the scope of political and technocultural studies through the provision of often-abstruse pronouncements such as Kafka's claim that the cinema 'involves putting the eye into uniform'. The political critiques provided by Virilio in The Information Bomb are a welcome development. For, today, it is sometimes all too easy to criticise the discipline of cultural studies for its celebration of political, technological and cultural différance without any corresponding recognition of economic and other inequalities founded on class, gender and race. Moreover, Virilio's fervent and occasionally maniacal critique of the art of technology stands out because it stretches from political and technocultural studies to economic and film studies, sometimes in the space of a single paragraph. Taking in Hollywood directors and obvious film productions such as Jan de Bont's Speed as well as the work of French cinematic pioneers like the Lumière brothers', Virilio's The Information Bomb is an important publication. But, unlike numerous other 'cybercultural' tomes, the significance of this book is derived from the fact that it also manages to extend the scope of political and technocultural studies through the provision of often-abstruse pronouncements such as Kafka's claim that the cinema 'involves putting the eye into uniform'. Yet it would be wrong to think that such an individualistic political and technocultural approach cannot be extended beyond Virilio's own anarcho-Christianity or the writings of Ellul. For example, Virilio's The Art of the Motor (1995) has been an important reference point in the recent writings of imaginative Marxists as distinct as Zizek in The Plague of Fantasies (1997) and Gorz in Reclaiming Work: Beyond the Wage-Based Society (1999). It would be difficult to believe that The Information Bomb will not become another significant source in the future works of other creative radicals, offering as it does not only a provisional pathway out of the quicksand of postmodernism but also a way into the sympathies of ordinary people. Firing off political concepts and technocultural neologisms at the speed of light, Virilio's passionately argued texts do not always hit their intended targets. But for anyone seeking a hypermodern critique of the cultural logic of late militarism that ranges from the Internet and the commercialisation of art to endocolonisation and the accident, Virilio's radical political and technocultural theory of speed contained in The Information Bomb is just what you have been waiting for. Citation reference for this article MLA style: John Armitage. "The Uncertainty Principle: Paul Virilio's 'The Information Bomb'." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3.3 (2000). [your date of access] <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0006/virilio.php>. Chicago style: John Armitage, "The Uncertainty Principle: Paul Virilio's 'The Information Bomb'," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3, no. 3 (2000), <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0006/virilio.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: John Armitage. (2000) The uncertainty principle: Paul Virilio's 'The information bomb'. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3(3). <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0006/virilio.php> ([your date of access]).

On Wednesday 21 April the Minister for Communications, Information Technology and the Arts introduced a piece of legislation into the Australian Senate to regulate the way Australians use the Internet. This legislation is presented within Australia's existing system of content regulation, a scheme that the Minister describes is not censorship, but merely regulation (Alston 55). Underlying Senator Alston's rhetoric about the protection of children from snuff film makers, paedophiles, drug pushers and other criminals, this long anticipated bill is aimed at reducing the amount of pornographic materials available via computer networks, a censorship regime in an age when regulation and classification are the words we prefer to use when society draws the line under material we want to see, but dare not allow ourselves access to. Regardless of any noble aspirations expressed by free-speech organisations such as Electronic Frontiers Australia relating to the defence of personal liberty and freedom of expression, this legislation is about porn. Under the Bill, Australia would proscribe our citizens from accessing: explicit depictions of sexual acts between consenting adults; mild non-violent fetishes; depictions of sexual violence, coercion or non-consent of any kind; depictions of child sexual abuse, bestiality, sexual acts accompanied by offensive fetishes, or exploitative incest fantasies; unduly detailed and/or relished acts of extreme violence or cruelty; explicit or unjustifiable depictions of sexual violence against non-consenting persons; and detailed instruction or encouragement in matters of crime or violence or the abuse of proscribed drugs. (OFLC) The Australian public, as a whole, favour the availability of sexually explicit materials in some form, with OFLC data indicating a relatively high degree of public support for X rated videos, the "high end" of the porn market (Paterson et al.). In Australia strict regulation of X rated materials in conventional media has resulted in a larger illegal market for these materials than the legalised sex industries of the ACT and Northern Territory (while 1.2 million X rated videos are legally sold out of the territories, 2 million are sold illegally in other jurisdictions, according to Patten). In Australia, censorship of media content has traditionally been based on the principles of the protection of society from moral harm and individual degradation, with specific emphasis on the protection of innocents from material they are not old enough for, or mentally capable of dealing with (Joint Select Committee on Video Material). Even when governments distanced themselves from direct personal censorship (such as Don Chipp's approach to the censorship of films and books in the late 1960s and early 1970s) and shifted the rationale behind censorship from prohibition to classification, the publicly stated aims of these decisions have been the support of existing community standards, rather than the imposition of strict legalistic moral values upon an unwilling society. In the debates surrounding censorship, and especially the level of censorship applied (rather than censorship as a whole), the question "what is the community we are talking about here?" has been a recurring theme. The standards that are applied to the regulation of media content, both online and off, are often the focus of community debate (a pluralistic community that obviously lacks "standards" by definition of the word). In essence the problem of maintaining a single set of moral and ethical values for the treatment of media content is a true political dilemma: a problem that lacks any form of solution acceptable to all participants. Since the introduction of the Internet as a "mass" medium (or more appropriately, a "popular" one), government indecision about how best to treat this new technology has precluded any form or content regulation other than the ad hoc use of existing non-technologically specific law to deal with areas of criminal or legally sanctionable intent (such as the use of copyright law, or the powers under the Crimes Act relating to the improper use of telecommunications services). However, indecision in political life is often associated with political weakness, and in the face of pressure to act decisively (motivated again by "community concern"), the Federal government has decided to extend the role of the Australian Broadcasting Authority to regulate and impose a censorship regime on Australian access of morally harmful materials. It is important to note the government's intention to censor access, rather than content of the Internet. While material hosted in Australia (ignoring, of course, the "cyberspace" definitions of non-territorial existence of information stored in networks) will be censored (removed from Australia computers), the government, lacking extraterritorial powers to compel the owners of machines located offshore, intends to introduce of some form of refused access list to materials located in other nations. What is interesting to consider in this context is the way that slight shifts of definitional paradigm alter the way this legislation can be considered. If information flows (upon which late capitalism is becoming more dependent) were to be located within the context of international law governing the flow of waterways, does the decision to prevent travel of morally dubious material through Australia's informational waterways impinge upon the riparian rights of other nations (the doctrine of fair usage without impeding flow; Godana 50)? Similarly, if we take Smith's extended definition of community within electronic transactional spaces (the maintenance of members' commitment to the group, monitoring and sanctioning behaviour and the production and distribution of resources), then the current Bill proposes the regulation of the activities of one community by another (granted, a larger community that incorporates the former). Seen in this context, this legislation is the direct intervention in an established social order by a larger and less homogeneous group. It may be trite to quote the Prime Minister's view of community in this context, where he states ...It is free individuals, strong communities and the rule of law which are the best defence against the intrusive power of the state and against those who think they know what is best for everyone else. (Howard 21) possibly because the paradigm in which this new legislation is situated does not classify those Australians online (who number up to 3 million) as a community in their own right. In a way the Internet users of Australia have never identified themselves as a community, nor been asked to act in a communitarian manner. While discussions about the value of community models when applied to the Internet are still divided, there are those who argue that their use of networked services can be seen in this light (Worthington). What this new legislation does, however, is preclude the establishment of public communities in order to meet the desires of government for some limits to be placed on Internet content. The Bill does allow for the development of "restricted access systems" that would allow pluralistic communities to develop and engage in a limited amount of self-regulation. These systems include privately accessible Intranets, or sites that restrict access through passwords or some other form of age verification technique. Thus, ignoring the minimum standards that will be required for these communities to qualify for some measure of self-regulatory freedom, what is unspoken here is that specific subsections of the Internet population may exist, provided they keep well away from the public gaze. A ghetto without physical walls. Under the Bill, a co-regulatory approach is endorsed by the government, favouring the establishment of industry codes of practice by ISPs and (or) the establishment of a single code of practice by the content hosting industry (content developers are relegated to yet undetermined complementary state legislation). However, this section of the Bill, in mandating a range of minimum requirements for these codes of practice, and denying plurality to the content providers, places an administrative imperative above any communitarian spirit. That is, that the Internet should have no more than one community, it should be an entity bound by a single guiding set of principles and be therefore easier to administer by Australian censors. This administrative imperative re-encapsulates the dilemma faced by governments dealing with the Internet: that at heart, the broadcast and print press paradigms of existing censorship regimes face massive administrative problems when presented with a communications technology that allows for wholesale publication of materials by individuals. Whereas the limited numbers of broadcasters and publishers have allowed the development of Australia's system of classification of materials (on a sliding scale from G to RC classifications or the equivalent print press version), the new legislation introduced into the Senate uses the classification scheme simply as a censorship mechanism: Internet content is either "ok" or "not ok". From a public administration perspective, this allows government to drastically reduce the amount of work required by regulators and eases the burden of compliance costs by ISPs, by directing clear and unambiguous statements about the acceptability of existing materials placed online. However, as we have seen in other areas of social policy (such as the rationalisation of Social Security services or Health), administrative expedience is often antipathetic to small communities that have special needs, or cultural sensitivities outside of mainstream society. While it is not appropriate to argue that public administration creates negative social impacts through expedience, what can be presented is that, where expedience is a core aim of legislation, poor administration may result. For many Australian purveyors of pornography, my comments will be entirely unhelpful as they endeavour to find effective ways to spoof offshore hosts or bone up (no pun intended) on tunnelling techniques. Given the easy way in which material can be reconstituted and relocated on the Internet, it seems likely that some form of regulatory avoidance will occur by users determined not to have their content removed or blocked. For those regulators given the unenviable task of censoring Internet access it may be worthwhile quoting from Sexing the Cherry, in which Jeanette Winterson describes the town: whose inhabitants are so cunning that to escape the insistence of creditors they knock down their houses in a single night and rebuild them elsewhere. So the number of buildings in the city is always constant but they are never in the same place from one day to the next. (43) Thus, while Winterson saw this game as a "most fulfilling pastime", it is likely to present real administrative headaches to ABA regulators when attempting to enforce the Bill's anti-avoidance clauses. The Australian government, in adapting existing regulatory paradigms to the Internet, has overlooked the informal communities who live, work and play within the virtual world of cyberspace. In attempting to meet a perceived social need for regulation with political and administrative expedience, it has ignored the potentially cohesive role of government in developing self-regulating communities who need little government intervention to produce socially beneficial outcomes. In proscribing activity externally to the realm in which these communities reside, what we may see is a new type of community, one whose desire for a feast of flesh leads them to evade the activities of regulators who operate in the "meat" world. What this may show us is that in a virtual environment, the regulators' net is no match for a world wide web. References Alston, Richard. "Regulation is Not Censorship." The Australian 13 April 1999: 55. Paterson, K., et. al. Classification Issues: Film, Video and Television. Sydney: The Office of Film and Literature Classification, 1993. Patten, F. Personal interview. 9 Feb. 1999. Godana, B.A. Africa's Shared Water Resources: Legal and Institutional Aspects of the Nile, Niger and Senegal River Systems. London: Frances Pinter, 1985. Howard, John. The Australia I Believe In: The Values, Directions and Policy Priorities of a Coalition Government Outlined in 1995. Canberra: Liberal Party, 1995. Joint Select Committee On Video Material. Report of the Joint Select Committee On Video Material. Canberra: APGS, 1988. Office of Film and Literature Classification. Cinema & Video Ratings Guide. 1999. 1 May 1999 <http://www.oflc.gov.au/classinfo.php>. Smith, Marc A. "Voices from the WELL: The Logic of the Virtual Commons." 1998. 2 Mar. 1999 <http://www.sscnet.ucla.edu/soc/csoc/papers/voices/Voices.htm>. Winterson, Jeanette. Sexing the Cherry. New York: Vintage Books. 1991. Worthington, T. Testimony before the Senate Select Committee on Information Technologies. Unpublished, 1999. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Peter Chen. "Community without Flesh: First Thoughts on the New Broadcasting Services Amendment (Online Services) Bill 1999." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.3 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9905/bill.php>. Chicago style: Peter Chen, "Community without Flesh: First Thoughts on the New Broadcasting Services Amendment (Online Services) Bill 1999," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 3 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9905/bill.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Author. (1999) Community without flesh: first thoughts on the new broadcasting services amendment (online services) bill 1999. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(3). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9905/bill.php> ([your date of access]).

This article explores how fat women protesting challenges norms of womanhood, the place of women in society, and who has the power to have their say in public spaces. We use the term fat as a political reclamation; Fat Studies scholars and fat activists prefer the term fat, over the normative term “overweight” and the pathologising term “obese/obesity” (Lee and Pausé para 3). Who is and who isn’t fat, we suggest, is best left to self-determination, although it is generally accepted by fat activists that the term is most appropriately adopted by individuals who are unable to buy clothes in any store they choose. Using a tweet from conservative commentator Ann Coulter as a leaping-off point, we examine the narratives around women in the public sphere and explore how fat bodies might transgress further the norms set by society. The public representations of women in politics and protest are then are set in the context of ‘activist wisdom’ (Maddison and Scalmer) from two sides of the globe. Activist wisdom gives preference to the lived knowledge and experience of activists as tools to understand social movements. It seeks to draw theoretical implications from the practical actions of those on the ground. In centring the experiences of ourselves and other activists, we hope to expand existing understandings of body politics, gender, and political power in this piece. It is important in researching social movements to look both at the representations of protest and protestors in all forms of media as this is the ‘public face’ of movements, but also to examine the reflections of the individuals who collectively put their weight behind bringing social change.A few days after the 45th President of the United States was elected, people around the world spilled into the streets and participated in protests; precursors to the Women’s March which would take place the following January. Pictures of such marches were shared via social media, demonstrating the worldwide protest against the racism, misogyny, and overall oppressiveness, of the newly elected leader. Not everyone was supportive of these protests though; one such conservative commentator, Ann Coulter, shared this tweet: Image1: A tweet from Ann Coulter; the tweet contains a picture of a group of protestors, holding signs protesting Trump, white supremacy, and for the rights of immigrants. In front of the group, holding a megaphone is a woman. Below the picture, the text reads, “Without fat girls, there would be no protests”.Coulter continued on with two more tweets, sharing pictures of other girls protesting and suggesting that the protestors needed a diet programme. Kivan Bay (“Without Fat Girls”) suggested that perhaps Coulter was implying that skinny girls do not have time to protest because they are too busy doing skinny girl things, like buying jackets or trying on sweaters. Or perhaps Coulter was arguing that fat girls are too visible, too loud, and too big, to be taken seriously in their protests. These tweets provide a point of illustration for how fat women protesting challenge norms of womanhood, the place of women in society, and who has the power to have their say in public spaces While Coulter’s tweet was most likely intended as a hostile personal attack on political grounds, we find it useful in its foregrounding of gender, bodies and protest which we consider in this article, beginning with a review of fat girls’ role in social justice movements.Across the world, we can point to fat women who engage in activism related to body politics and more. Australian fat filmmaker and activist Kelli Jean Drinkwater makes documentaries, such as Aquaporko! and Nothing to Lose, that queer fat embodiment and confronts body norms. Newly elected Ontario MPP Jill Andrew has been fighting for equal rights for queer people and fat people in Canada for decades. Nigerian Latasha Ngwube founded About That Curvy Life, Africa’s leading body positive and empowerment site, and has organised plus-size fashion show events at Heineken Lagos Fashion and Design Week in Nigeria in 2016 and the Glitz Africa Fashion Week in Ghana in 2017. Fat women have been putting their bodies on the line for the rights of others to live, work, and love. American Heather Heyer was protesting the hate that white nationalists represent and the danger they posed to her friends, family, and neighbours when she died at a rally in Charlottesville, North Carolina in late 2017 (Caron). When Heyer was killed by one of those white nationalists, they declared that she was fat, and therefore her body size was lauded loudly as justification for her death (Bay, “How Nazis Use”; Spangler).Fat women protesting is not new. For example, the Fat Underground was a group of “radical fat feminist women”, who split off from the more conservative NAAFA (National Association to Aid Fat Americans) in the 1970s (Simic 18). The group educated the public about weight science, harassed weight-loss companies, and disrupted academic seminars on obesity. The Fat Underground made their first public appearance at a Women’s Equality Day in Los Angeles, taking over the stage at the public event to accuse the medical profession of murdering Cass Elliot, the lead singer of the folk music group, The Mamas and the Papas (Dean and Buss). In 1973, the Fat Underground produced the Fat Liberation Manifesto. This Manifesto began by declaring that they believed “that fat people are full entitled to human respect and recognition” (Freespirit and Aldebaran 341).Women have long been disavowed, or discouraged, from participating in the public sphere (Ginzberg; van Acker) or seen as “intruders or outsiders to the tough world of politics” (van Acker 118). The feminist slogan the personal is political was intended to shed light on the role that women needed to play in the public spheres of education, employment, and government (Caha 22). Across the world, the acceptance of women within the public sphere has been varied due to cultural, political, and religious, preferences and restrictions (Agenda Feminist Media Collective). Limited acceptance of women in the public sphere has historically been granted by those ‘anointed’ by a male family member or patron (Fountaine 47).Anti-feminists are quick to disavow women being in public spaces, preferring to assign them the role as helpmeet to male political elite. As Schlafly (in Rowland 30) notes: “A Positive Woman cannot defeat a man in a wrestling or boxing match, but she can motivate him, inspire him, encourage him, teach him, restrain him, reward him, and have power over him that he can never achieve over her with all his muscle.” This idea of women working behind the scenes has been very strong in New Zealand where the ‘sternly worded’ letter is favoured over street protest. An acceptable route for women’s activism was working within existing political institutions (Grey), with activity being ‘hidden’ inside government offices such as the Ministry of Women’s Affairs (Schuster, 23). But women’s movement organisations that engage in even the mildest form of disruptive protest are decried (Grey; van Acker).One way women have been accepted into public space is as the moral guardians or change agents of the entire political realm (Bliss; Ginzberg; van Acker; Ledwith). From the early suffrage movements both political actors and media representations highlighted women were more principled and conciliatory than men, and in many cases had a moral compass based on restraint. Cartoons showed women in the suffrage movement ‘sweeping up’ and ‘cleaning house’ (Sheppard 123). Groups like the Women’s Christian Temperance Union were celebrated for protesting against the demon drink and anti-pornography campaigners like Patricia Bartlett were seen as acceptable voices of moral reason (Moynihan). And as Cunnison and Stageman (in Ledwith 193) note, women bring a “culture of femininity to trade unions … an alternative culture, derived from the particularity of their lives as women and experiences of caring and subordination”. This role of moral guardian often derived from women as ‘mothers’, responsible for the physical and moral well-being of the nation.The body itself has been a sight of protest for women including fights for bodily autonomy in their medical decisions, reproductive justice, and to live lives free from physical and sexual abuse, have long been met with criticisms of being unladylike or inappropriate. Early examples decried in NZ include the women’s clothing movement which formed part of the suffrage movement. In the second half of the 20th century it was the freedom trash can protests that started the myth of ‘women burning their bras’ which defied acceptable feminine norms (Sawer and Grey). Recent examples of women protesting for body rights include #MeToo and Time’s Up. Both movements protest the lack of bodily autonomy women can assert when men believe they are entitled to women’s bodies for their entertainment, enjoyment, and pleasure. And both movements have received considerable backlash by those who suggest it is a witch hunt that might ensnare otherwise innocent men, or those who are worried that the real victims are white men who are being left behind (see Garber; Haussegger). Women who advocate for bodily autonomy, including access to contraception and abortion, are often held up as morally irresponsible. As Archdeacon Bullock (cited in Smyth 55) asserted, “A woman should pay for her fun.”Many individuals believe that the stigma and discrimination fat people face are the consequences they sow from their own behaviours (Crandall 892); that fat people are fat because they have made poor decisions, being too indulgent with food and too lazy to exercise (Crandall 883). Therefore, fat people, like women, should have to pay for their fun. Fat women find themselves at this intersection, and are often judged more harshly for their weight than fat men (Tiggemann and Rothblum). Examining Coulter’s tweet with this perspective in mind, it can easily be read as an attempt to put fat girl protestors back into their place. It can also be read as a warning. Don’t go making too much noise or you may be labelled as fat. Presenting troublesome women as fat has a long history within political art and depictions. Marianne (the symbol of the French Republic) was depicted as fat and ugly; she also reinforced an anti-suffragist position (Chenut 441). These images are effective because of our societal views on fatness (Kyrölä). Fatness is undesirable, unworthy of love and attention, and a representation of poor character, lack of willpower, and an absence of discipline (Murray 14; Pausé, “Rebel Heart” para 1).Fat women who protest transgress rules around body size, gender norms, and the appropriate place for women in society. Take as an example the experiences of one of the authors of this piece, Sandra Grey, who was thrust in to political limelight nationally with the Campaign for MMP (Grey and Fitzsimmons) and when elected as the President of the New Zealand Tertiary Education Union in 2011. Sandra is a trade union activist who breaches too many norms set for the “good woman protestor,” as well as the norms for being a “good fat woman”. She looms large on a stage – literally – and holds enough power in public protest to make a crowd of 7,000 people “jump to left”, chant, sing, and march. In response, some perceive Sandra less as a tactical and strategic leader of the union movement, and more as the “jolly fat woman” who entertains, MCs, and leads public events. Though even in this role, she has been criticised for being too loud, too much, too big.These criticisms are loudest when Sandra is alongside other fat female bodies. When posting on social media photos with fellow trade union members the comments often note the need of the group to “go on a diet”. The collective fatness also brings comments about “not wanting to fuck any of that group of fat cows”. There is something politically and socially dangerous about fat women en masse. This was behind the responses to Sandra’s first public appearance as the President of TEU when one of the male union members remarked “Clearly you have to be a fat dyke to run this union.” The four top elected and appointed positions in the TEU have been women for eight years now and both their fatness and perceived sexuality present as a threat in a once male-dominated space. Even when not numerically dominant, unions are public spaces dominated by a “masculine culture … underpinned by the undervaluation of ‘women’s worth’ and notions of womanhood ‘defined in domesticity’” (Cockburn in Kirton 273-4). Sandra’s experiences in public space show that the derision and methods of putting fat girls back in their place varies dependent on whether the challenge to power is posed by a single fat body with positional power and a group of fat bodies with collective power.Fat Girls Are the FutureOn the other side of the world, Tara Vilhjálmsdóttir is protesting to change the law in Iceland. Tara believes that fat people should be protected against discrimination in public and private settings. Using social media such as Facebook and Instagram, Tara takes her message, and her activism, to her thousands of followers (Keller, 434; Pausé, “Rebel Heart”). And through mainstream media, she pushes back on fatphobia rhetoric and applies pressure on the government to classify weight as a protected status under the law.After a lifetime of living “under the oppression of diet culture,” Tara began her activism in 2010 (Vilhjálmsdóttir). She had suffered real harm from diet culture, developing an eating disorder as a teen and being told through her treatment for it that her fears as a fat woman – that she had no future, that fat people experienced discrimination and stigma – were unfounded. But Tara’s lived experiences demonstrated fat stigma and discrimination were real.In 2012, she co-founded the Icelandic Association for Body Respect, which promotes body positivity and fights weight stigma in Iceland. The group uses a mixture of real life and online tools; organising petitions, running campaigns against the Icelandic version of The Biggest Loser, and campaigning for weight to be a protected class in the Icelandic constitution. The Association has increased the visibility of the dangers of diet culture and the harm of fat stigma. They laid the groundwork that led to changing the human rights policy for the city of Reykjavík; fat people cannot be discriminated against in employment settings within government jobs. As the city is one of the largest employers in the country, this was a large step forward for fat rights.Tara does receive her fair share of hate messages; she’s shared that she’s amazed at the lengths people will go to misunderstand what she is saying (Vilhjálmsdóttir). “This isn’t about hurt feelings; I’m not insulted [by fat stigma]. It’s about [fat stigma] affecting the livelihood of fat people and the structural discrimination they face” (Vilhjálmsdóttir). She collects the hateful comments she receives online through screenshots and shares them in an album on her page. She believes it is important to keep a repository to demonstrate to others that the hatred towards fat people is real. But the hate she receives only fuels her work more. As does the encouragement she receives from people, both in Iceland and abroad. And she is not alone; fat activists across the world are using Web 2.0 tools to change the conversation around fatness and demand civil rights for fat people (Pausé, “Rebel Heart”; Pausé, “Live to Tell").Using Web 2.0 tools as a way to protest and engage in activism is an example of oppositional technologics; a “political praxis of resistance being woven into low-tech, amateur, hybrid, alternative subcultural feminist networks” (Garrison 151). Fat activists use social media to engage in anti-assimilationist activism and build communities of practice online in ways that would not be possible in real life (Pausé, “Express Yourself” 1). This is especially useful for those whose protests sit at the intersections of oppressions (Keller 435; Pausé, “Rebel Heart” para 19). Online protests have the ability to travel the globe quickly, providing opportunities for connections between protests and spreading protests across the globe, such as SlutWalks in 2011-2012 (Schuster 19). And online spaces open up unlimited venues for women to participate more freely in protest than other forms (Harris 479; Schuster 16; Garrison 162).Whether online or offline, women are represented as dangerous in the political sphere when they act without male champions breaching norms of femininity, when their involvement challenges the role of woman as moral guardians, and when they make the body the site of protest. Women must ‘do politics’ politely, with utmost control, and of course caringly; that is they must play their ‘designated roles’. Whether or not you fit the gendered norms of political life affects how your protest is perceived through the media (van Acker). Coulter’s tweet loudly proclaimed that the fat ‘girls’ protesting the election of the 45th President of the United States were unworthy, out of control, and not worthy of attention (ironic, then, as her tweet caused considerable conversation about protest, fatness, and the reasons not to like the President-Elect). What the Coulter tweet demonstrates is that fat women are perceived as doubly-problematic in public space, both as fat and as women. They do not do politics in a way that is befitting womanhood – they are too visible and loud; they are not moral guardians of conservative values; and, their bodies challenge masculine power.ReferencesAgenda Feminist Media Collective. “Women in Society: Public Debate.” Agenda: Empowering Women for Gender Equity 10 (1991): 31-44.Bay, Kivan. “How Nazis Use Fat to Excuse Violence.” Medium, 7 Feb. 2018. 1 May 2018 <https://medium.com/@kivabay/how-nazis-use-fat-to-excuse-violence-b7da7d18fea8>.———. “Without Fat Girls, There Would Be No Protests.” Bullshit.ist, 13 Nov. 2016. 16 May 2018 <https://bullshit.ist/without-fat-girls-there-would-be-no-protests-e66690de539a>.Bliss, Katherine Elaine. Compromised Positions: Prostitution, Public Health, and Gender Politics in Revolutionary Mexico City. Penn State Press, 2010.Caha, Omer. 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London: Routledge, 2008.Harris, Anita. “Mind the Gap: Attitudes and Emergent Feminist Politics since the Third Wave.” Australian Feminist Studies 25.66 (2010): 475-484.Haussegger, Virginia. “#MeToo: Beware the Brewing Whiff of Backlash.” Sydney Morning Herald, 7 Mar. 2018. 1 Apr. 2018 <https://www.smh.com.au/national/metoo-beware-the-brewing-whiff-of-backlash-20180306-p4z33s.html>.Keller, Jessalynn. “Virtual Feminisms.” Information, Communication and Society 15.3(2011): 429-447.Kirston, Gill. “From ‘a Woman’s Place Is in Her Union’ to ‘Strong Unions Need Women’: Changing Gender Discourses, Policies and Realities in the Union Movement.” Labour & Industry: A Journal of the Social and Economic Relations of Work 27.4 (2017): 270-283.Kyrölä, Katariina. The Weight of Images. London: Routledge, 2014.Ledwith, Sue. “Gender Politics in Trade Unions: The Representation of Women between Exclusion and Inclusion.” European Review of Labour and Research 18.2 (2012): 185-199.Lyndsey, Susan. 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The technical apparatus is, then, being made at home with the rest of our world. And that's a thing that's routinely being done, and it's the source of the failure of technocratic dreams that if only we introduced some fantastic new communication machine, the world will be transformed. Where what happens is that the object is made at home in the world that has whatever organisation it already has. -- Harvey Sacks (Lectures on Conversation Vol. 2., 548-9) Chatting, or having a conversation, has long been a favourite activity for people. It seemed so ordinary, if not to say trivial, that it has for almost equally long not been studied in any dedicated way. It was only when Harvey Sacks and his early collaborators started using the tape recorder to study telephone conversations that 'conversation' as a topic has become established (cf. Sacks, Lectures Vol. 1). Inspired by Harold Garfinkel, the perspective chosen was a procedural one: they wanted to analyse how conversations are organised on the spot. As Sacks once said: The gross aim of the work I am doing is to see how finely the details of actual, naturally occurring conversation can be subjected to analysis that will yield the technology of conversation. (Sacks, "On Doing 'Being Ordinary'" 411) Later, Sacks also started using data from audio-recorded face-to-face encounters. Most of the phenomena that the research on telephone conversation unearthed could also be found in face-to-face data. Whether something was lost by relying on just audio materials was not clear at the beginning. But with video-based research, as initiated by Charles Goodwin in the 1970s, one was later able to demonstrate that visual exchanges did play an essential role the actual organisation of face-to-face conduct. When using telephone technology, people seemed to rely on a restricted set of the interactional procedures used in face-to-face settings. But new ways to deal with both general and setting-specific problems, such as mutual identification, were also developed. Now that an increasing number of people spend various amounts of their time 'online', chatting with friends or whoever is available, it is time to study Computer-Mediated Conversation (CMC), as we previously studied face-to-face conversation and Telephone (Mediated) Conversation, using the same procedural perspective. We may expect that we will encounter many phenomena that have become familiar to us, and that we will be able to use many of the same concepts. But we will probably also see that people have developed new technical variations of familiar themes as they adapt the technology of conversation to the possibilities and limitations of this new technology of communicative mediation. In so doing, they will make the new technology 'at home in the world that has whatever organisation it already has.' Space does not allow a full discussion of the properties of text-based CMC as instantiated in 'chat' environments, but comparing CMC with face-to-face communication and telephone conversations, it is obvious that the means to convey meanings are severely restricted. In face-to-face encounters, many of the more subtle aspects of the conversation rely on visual and vocal productions and perceptions, which are more or less distinguishable from the 'text' that has been uttered. Following the early work of Gregory Bateson, these aspects are mostly conceived of as a kind of commentary on the core communication available in the 'text', that is as 'meta-communication'. While the 'separation' between 'levels' of communication, that these conceptualisations imply may distort what actually goes on in face-to-face encounters, there is no doubt that telephone conversations, in which the visual 'channel' is not available, and text-based CMC, which in addition lacks access to voice qualities, do confront participants with important communicative restrictions. An important aspect of text-based computer-mediated chatting is that it offers users an unprecedented anonymity, and therefore an unprecedented licence for unaccountable action, ranging from bland banality to criminal threat, while passing through all imaginable sexual 'perversities'. One upshot of this is that they can present themselves as belonging to any plausible category they may choose, but they will -- in the chat context -- never be sure whether the other participants 'really' are legitimate members of the categories they claim for themselves. In various other formats for CMC, like MUDs and MOOs, the looseness of the connections between the people who type messages and the identities they project in the chat environment seems often to be accepted as an inescapable fact, which adds to the fascination of participation1. The typists can then be called 'players' and the projected identities 'characters', while the interaction can be seen as a game of role-playing. In general chat environments, as the one I will discuss later, such a game-like quality seems not to be openly admitted, although quite often hinted at. Rather, the participants stick to playing who they claim they are. In my own text, however, I will use 'player' and 'character' to indicate the two faces of participation in computer-mediated, text-based chats. In the following sections, I will discuss the organised ways in which one particular problem that chat-players have is dealt with. That problem can be glossed as: how do people wanting to 'chat' on the Internet find suitable partners for that activity? The solution to that problem lies in the explicit naming or implicit suggestion of various kinds of social categories, like 'age', 'sex' and 'location'. Chat players very often initiate a chat with a question like: "hi, a/s/l please?", which asks the other party to self-identify in those terms, as, for instance "frits/m/amsterdam", if that fits the character the player wants to project. But, as I will explain, categorisation plays its role both earlier and later in the chat process. 'Membership Categorisation' in Finding Chat Partners The following exploration is, then, an exercise in Membership Categorisation Analysis (MCA; Hester & Eglin) as based on the ideas developed by Harvey Sacks in the 1960s (Sacks, "An Initial Investigation", "On the Analyzability of Stories", Lectures on Conversation Vol. 1). An immense part of the mundane knowledge that people use in living their everyday lives is organised in terms of categories that label members of some population as being of certain types. These categories are organised in sets, called Membership Categorisation Devices (MCDs). The MCD 'sex' (or 'gender'), for instance, consists of the two categories of 'male' and 'female'. Labelling a person as being male or female carries with it an enormous amount of implied properties, so called 'category-predicates', such as expectable or required behaviours, capacities, values, etc. My overall thesis is that people who want to chat rely mostly on categorical predications to find suitable chat partners. Finding a chat partner or chat partners is an interactive process between at least two parties. Their job involves a combination of presenting themselves and reading others' self presentations. For each, the job has a structure like 'find an X who wants a Y as a partner', where X is the desired chat character and Y is the character you yourself want to play. The set of XY-combinations varies in scope, of course, from very wide, say any male/female combination, to rather narrow, as we will see. The partner finding process for chats can be loosely compared with partly similar processes in other environments, such as cocktail parties, poster sessions at conferences, and telephone calls. The openings of telephone calls have been researched extensively by conversation analysts, especially Schegloff ("Sequencing", "Identification", "Routine"; also Hopper). An interesting idea from this work is that a call opening tends to follow a loosely defined pattern, called the canonical model for telephone openings. This involves making contact, mutual identification/recognition, greetings and 'how-are-you?'s, before the actual business of the call is tackled. When logging on to a chat environment, one enters a market of sorts, where the participants are both buyers and sellers: a general sociability-market like a cocktail party. And indeed some writers have characterised chat rooms as 'virtual cocktail parties'. Some participants in a cocktail party may, of course, have quite specific purposes in mind, like wanting to meet a particular kind of person, or a particular individual, or even being open to starting a relationship which may endure for some time after the event. The same is true for CMC chats. The trajectory that the partner-finding process will take is partly pre-structured by the technology used. I have limited my explorations to one particular chat environment (Microsoft Chat). In that program, the actual partner-finding starts even before logging on, as one is required to fill in certain information slots when setting up the program, such as Real Name and Nickname and optional slots like Email Address and Profile. When you click on the Chat Room List icon, you are presented with a list of over a thousand rooms, alphabetically arranged, with the number of participants. You can select a Room and click a button to enter it. When you do, you get a new screen, which has three windows, one that represents the ongoing general conversation, one with a list of the participants' nicks, and a window to type your contributions in. When you right-click on a name in the participant list, you get a number of options, including Get Profile. Get Profile allows you to get more information on that person, if he/she has filled in that part of the form, but often you get "This person is too lazy to create a profile entry." Categorisation in Room Names When you log in to the chat server, you can search either the Chat Room List or the Users List. Let us take the Chat Room List first. Some room names seem to be designed to come early in the alphabetically ordered list, by starting with one or more A's, as in A!!!!!!!!!FriendlyChat, while others rely on certain key words. Scanning over a thousand names for those words by scrolling the list might take a lot of time, but the Chat Room List has a search facility. You can type a string and the list will be shortened to only those with that string in their name. Many room names seem to be designed for being found this way, by containing a number of more or less redundant strings that people might use in a search. Some examples of room names are: A!!!!!!!!!FriendlyChat, Animal&Girls, Australia_Sydney_Chat_Room, christian evening post, desert_and_cactus_only, engineer, francais_saloppes, francais_soumise_sub_slave, german_deutsch_rollenspiele, hayatherseyeragmensürüyor, holland_babbel, italia_14_19anni, italia_padania_e_basta, L@Ros@deiVenti, nederlandse_chat, sex_tr, subslavespankbondage, Sweet_Girl_From_Alabama, #BI_LES_FEM_ONLY, #Chinese_Chat, #France, #LesbiansBiTeenGirls_Cam_NetMeeting, #polska_do_flirtowania, #russian_Virtual_Bar?, #tr_%izmir, #ukphonefantasy. A first look at this collection of room names suggests two broad classes of categorisation: first a local/national/cultural/ethnic class, and second one oriented to topics, with a large dose of sexual ones. For the first class, different kinds of indicators are available, such as naming as in Australia_Sydney_Chat_Room, and the use of a local language as in hayatherseyeragmensürüyor, or in combination: german_deutsch_rollenspiele. When you enter this type of room, a first function of such categorisations becomes apparent in that non-English categorisations suggest a different language practice. While English is the default language, quite a few people prefer using their own local language. Some rooms even suggest a more restricted area, as in Australia_Sydney_Chat_Room, for those who are interested in chatting with people not too far off. This seems a bit paradoxical, as chatting in a world-wide network allows contacts between people who are physically distant, as is often mentioned in chats. Rooms with such local restrictions may be designed, however, to facilitate possible subsequent face-to-face meetings or telephone contacts, as is suggested by names like Fr@nce_P@ris_Rencontre and #ukphonefantasy. The collection of sexually suggestive names is not only large, but also indicative of a large variety of interests, including just (probably heterosexual) sex, male gay sex, female lesbian or bi-sexuality. Some names invoke some more specialized practices like BDSM, and a collection of other 'perversities', as in names like 'francais_soumcateise_sub_slave', 'subslavespankbondage', 'golden_shower' or 'family_secrets'. But quite often sexual interest are only revealed in subsequent stages of contact. Non-sexual interests are, of course, also apparent, including religious, professional, political or commercial ones, as in 'christian evening post', or 'culturecrossing', 'holland_paranormaal', 'jesussaves', 'Pokemon_Chat', 'francais_informatique', and '#Russian_Philosophy_2918'. Categorisation through Nicknames Having selected a room, your next step is to see who is there. As chatting ultimately concerns exchanges between (virtual) persons, it is no surprise that nicknames are used as concise 'labels' to announce who is available on the chat network or in a particular room. Consider some examples: ^P0371G , amanda14, anneke, banana81, Dream_Girl, emma69, ericdraven, latex_bi_tch1 , Leeroy, LuCho1, Mary15, Miguelo, SomeFun, Steffi, teaser. Some of these are rather opaque, at least at first, while others seem quite ordinary. Anneke, for instance, is an ordinary Dutch name for girls. So, by using this nick name, a person at the same time categorises herself in two Membership Categorisation Devices: gender: 'female' and language: 'Dutch'. When using this type of nick, you will quite often be addressed in Dutch, for instance with the typically Dutch chat-greeting "hoi" and/or by a question like "ben jij Nederlandse?" ("are you Dutch?" -- female form). This question asks you to categorise yourself, using the nationality device 'Dutch/Belgian', within the language category 'speaker of Dutch'. Many other first names like 'amanda' and 'emma', do not have such a language specificity and so do not 'project' a specific European language/nationality as 'anneke' does. Some French names, like 'nathalie' are a bit ambiguous in that respect, as they are used in quite a number of other language communities, so you may get a more open question like "bonjour, tu parle francais?" ("hi, do you speak French?"). A name like 'Miguelo' suggests a roman language, of course, while 'LuCho1' or 'Konusmaz' indicate non-European languages (here Chinese and Turkish, respectively). Quite often, a first name nick also carries an attached number, as in 'Mary15'. One reason for such attachments is that a nick has to be unique, so if you join the channel with a nick like 'Mary', there will mostly be another who has already claimed that particular name. An error message will appear suggesting that you take another nick. The easiest solution, then, is to add an 'identifying detail', like a number. Technically, any number, letter or other character will do, so you can take Mary1, or Mary~, or Mary_m. Quite often, numbers are used in accord with the nick's age, as is probably the case in our examples 'Mary15' and 'amanda14', but not in 'emma69', which suggests an 'activity preference' rather than an age category. Some of the other nicks in our examples suggest other aspects, claims or interests, as in Dream_Girl, latex_bi_tch1, SomeFun, or teaser. Other examples are: 'machomadness', 'daddyishere', 'LadySusan28', 'maleslave', 'curieuse33', 'patrickcam', or 'YOUNG_GAY_BOY'. More elaborate information about a character can sometimes be collected from his or her profile, but for reasons of space, I will not discuss its use here. This paper's interest is not only in finding out which categories and MCDs are actually used, but also how they are used, what kind of function they can be seen to have. How do chat participants organise their way to 'the anchor point' (Schegloff, "Routine"), at which they start their actual chat 'business'? For the chatting environment that I have observed, there seems to be two major purposes, one may be called social, i.e. 'just chatting', as under the rubric 'friendly chat', and the other is sexual. These purposes may be mixed, of course, in that the first may lead to the second, or the second accompanied by the first. Apart from those two major purposes, a number of others can be inferred from the room titles, including the discussion of political, religious, and technical topics. Sexual chats can take various forms, most prominently 'pic trading' and 'cybersex'. As becomes clear from research by Don Slater, an enormous 'market' for 'pic trading' has emerged, with a quite explicit normative structure of 'fair trading', i.e. if one receives something, one should reciprocate in kind. When one is in an appropriate room, and especially if one plays a female character, other participants quite often try to initiate pic trading. This can have the form of sending a pic, without any verbal exchange, possibly followed by a request like 'send also'. But you may also get a verbal request first, like "do you have a (self) pic?" If you reply in a negative way, you often do not get any further reaction, or just "ok." A 'pic request' can also be preceded by some verbal exchanges; social, sexual or both. That question -- "have a pic?" or "wanna trade" -- can then be considered the real starting point for that particular encounter, or it can be part of a process of getting to know each other: "can i c u?" The second form of sexual chats involves cyber sex. This may be characterised as interactionally improvised pornography, the exchange of sexually explicit messages enacting a sexual fantasy or a shared masturbation session. There is a repertoire of opening moves for these kinds of games, including "wanna cyber?", "are you alone?" and "what are you wearing now?" Functions of Categorisations Categorisations in room names, nicks and profiles has two major functions: guiding the selection of suitable chat partners and suggesting topics. Location information has quite diverse implications in different contexts, e.g. linguistic, cultural, national and geographical. Language is a primordial parameter in any text-based activity, and chatting offers numerous illustrations for this. Cultural implications seem to be more diffuse, but probably important for some (classes of?) participants. Nationality is important in various ways, for instance as an 'identity anchor'. So when you use a typically Dutch nick, like 'frits' or 'anneke', you may get first questions asking whether you are from the Netherlands or from Belgium and subsequently from which region or town. This may be important for indicating reachability, either in person or over the phone. Location information can also be used as topic opener. So when you mention that you live in Amsterdam, you often get positive remarks about the city, like "I visited Amsterdam last June and I liked it very much", or "I would die to live there" (sic) from a pot-smoking U.S. student. After language, age and gender seem to be the most important points in exploring mutual suitability. When possible partners differ in age or gender category, this quite often leads to questions like "Am I not too old/young for you?" Of course, age and gender are basic parameters for sexual selection, as people differ in their range of sexual preferences along the lines of these categories, i.e. same sex or opposite sex, and roughly the same age or older/younger age. Such preferences intersect with straight or kinky ones, of which a large variety can be found. Many rooms are organised around one or another combination, as announced in names like '#LesbiansBiTeenGirls_Cam_NetMeeting', 'Hollandlolita' or '#Lesbian_Domination'. In some of these, the host makes efforts to keep to a more or less strict 'regime', for instance by banning obvious males from a room like '#BI_LES_FEM_ONLY'. In others, an automated welcome message is used to lay out the participation rules. Conclusion To sum up, categorisation plays an essential role in a sorting-out process leading, ideally, to small-group or dyadic suitability. A/S/L, age, sex and location, are obvious starting points, but other differentiations, as in sexual preferences which are themselves partly rooted in age/gender combinations, also play a role. In this process, suitability explorations and topic initiations are intimately related. Chatting, then, is text-based categorisation. New communication technologies are invented with rather limited purposes in mind, but they are quite often adopted by masses of users in unexpected ways. In this process, pre-existing communicational purposes and procedures are adapted to the new environment, but basically there does not seem to be any radical change. Comparing mutual categorisation in face-to-face encounters, telephone calls, and text-based CMC as in online chatting, one can see that similar procedures are being used, although in a more and more explicit manner, as in the question: "a/s/l please?" Footnote These ideas have been inspired by Schaap; for an ethnography focussing on the connection between 'life online' and 'real life', see Markham, 1998. References Hopper, Robert. Telephone Conversation. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1992. Hester, Stephen, and Peter Eglin, eds. Culture in Action: Studies in Membership Categorisation Analysis. Washington, D.C.: UP of America, 1997. Markham, Annette H. Life Online: Researching Real Experience in Virtual Space. Walnut Creek, London, New Delhi: Altamira P, 1998. Sacks, Harvey. "An Initial Investigation of the Usability of Conversational Data for Doing Sociology." Studies in Social Interaction. Ed. D. Sudnow. New York: Free P, 1972. 31-74. ---. Lectures on Conversation. Vol. 1. Ed. Gail Jefferson, with an introduction by Emanuel A. Schegloff. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1992. ---. Lectures on Conversation. Vol. 2. Ed. Gail Jefferson, with an introduction by Emanuel A. Schegloff. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1992. ---. "On Doing 'Being Ordinary'." Structures of Social Action: Studies in Conversation Analysis. Ed. J. Maxwell Atkinson and John Heritage. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1984. 413-29. ---. "On the Analyzability of Stories by Children." Directions in Sociolinguistics: The Ethnography of Communication. Ed. John. J. Gumperz and Dell Hymes. New York: Rinehart & Winston, 1972. 325-45. Schaap, Frank. "The Words That Took Us There: Not an Ethnography." M.A. Thesis in Anthropology, University of Amsterdam, 2000. <http://fragment.nl/thesis/>. Schegloff, Emanuel A. "Identification and Recognition in Telephone Conversation Openings." Everyday Language: Studies in Ethnomethodology. Ed. George Psathas. New York: Irvington, 1979. 23-78. ---. "The Routine as Achievement." Human Studies 9 (1986): 111-52. ---. "Sequencing in Conversational Openings." American Anthropologist 70 (1968): 1075-95. Slater, Don R. "Trading Sexpics on IRC: Embodiment and Authenticity on the Internet." Body and Society 4.4 (1998): 91-117. Ten Have, Paul. Doing Conversation Analysis: A Practical Guide. Introducing Qualitative Methods. London: Sage, 1999. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Paul ten Have. "Computer-Mediated Chat: Ways of Finding Chat Partners." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3.4 (2000). [your date of access] <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0008/partners.php>. Chicago style: Paul ten Have, "Computer-Mediated Chat: Ways of Finding Chat Partners," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3, no. 4 (2000), <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0008/partners.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Paul ten Have. (2000) Computer-mediated chat: ways of finding chat partners. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3(4). <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0008/partners.php> ([your date of access]).

La pornographie fait partie du paysage de notre société. Le processus de massification qui s'est produit, essentiellement des années 1970 à nos jours, l'a progressivement conduit à devenir une industrie culturelle colossale soulevant des questions relatives aux discours dont elle est la matière (professionnels du secteur de production, journalistes, profanes, politiques, etc.). La pornographie est un objet social et culturel, relevant d’enjeux économiques, politiques et esthétiques, et semble de fait avoir gagné en légitimité au sein-même de la recherche scientifique durant cette dernière décennie. Instituée en courant de pensée ici (porn studies anglo-saxonnes), en sous-champ de recherche là (pornographie lesbienne, etc.), ce « nouveau » terrain de recherche pourrait bien constituer un prolongement des études sur le genre et la sexualité. C’est ce processus de mutation d’un objet marginal vers un objet conforme au système académique que nous nous proposons d’élucider dans cette thèse. Ce travail a pour but de réhistoriciser l’émergence des différents travaux français s’attachant à la question de la pornographie. L’élaboration de cette cartographie permettra d’une part, de découvrir le noyau et la constitution des études de la pornographie en France, et d’autre part, de dépeindre l’aspect communicationnel propre à la construction, à la mutation et à la transmission du savoir. Ces processus apparaissent alors tant dans les relations qu’il est possible d’établir entre différents champs scientifiques, que dans la circulation des savoirs propres à la science en train de se faire. Cette recherche pourrait d'ailleurs avoir un apport heuristique quant aux études d’ores et déjà menées depuis les années 1980 en sociologie ou en histoire des sciences, quant à l’émergence de nouvelles disciplines, de nouveaux champs et objets de recherche
Pornography is part of the landscape of our society. Starting in the 1970s, a process of massification has gradually led pornography to become a huge cultural industry, raising questions about the discourse of which it is the subject (production professionals, journalists, laymen, politicians etc.). Pornography is a social and cultural object with economic, political and aesthetic relevance and consequently seems to have gained legitimacy even within scientific research over the last decade. Established as a trend of thought on one hand (referred to in the English-speaking world as Porn Studies) and a research subfield on the other (lesbian pornography etc.), this "new" research field could certainly follow on from Gender and Sexuality Studies. This doctoral thesis proposes to clarify the process by which a marginal object is transformed into an object that fits into the academic system. The work aims to reconstitute the historical context in which the various French research projects relating to pornography emerged. The development of this historical map will allow us to explore the core of Pornography Studies in France and how they were constituted on one hand, and to describe the specific communicational aspects of knowledge construction, transformation and transmission on the other. These processes appear both in the possible relations between different scientific fields and in the flow of knowledge specific to the science that is in the making. This research could also make a heuristic contribution to studies that have already been carried out since the 1980s in Sociology or History of Science about the emergence of new disciplines and new research fields and topics

La pornographie fait partie du paysage de notre société. Le processus de massification qui s'est produit, essentiellement des années 1970 à nos jours, l'a progressivement conduit à devenir une industrie culturelle colossale soulevant des questions relatives aux discours dont elle est la matière (professionnels du secteur de production, journalistes, profanes, politiques, etc.). La pornographie est un objet social et culturel, relevant d’enjeux économiques, politiques et esthétiques, et semble de fait avoir gagné en légitimité au sein-même de la recherche scientifique durant cette dernière décennie. Instituée en courant de pensée ici (porn studies anglo-saxonnes), en sous-champ de recherche là (pornographie lesbienne, etc.), ce « nouveau » terrain de recherche pourrait bien constituer un prolongement des études sur le genre et la sexualité. C’est ce processus de mutation d’un objet marginal vers un objet conforme au système académique que nous nous proposons d’élucider dans cette thèse. Ce travail a pour but de réhistoriciser l’émergence des différents travaux français s’attachant à la question de la pornographie. L’élaboration de cette cartographie permettra d’une part, de découvrir le noyau et la constitution des études de la pornographie en France, et d’autre part, de dépeindre l’aspect communicationnel propre à la construction, à la mutation et à la transmission du savoir. Ces processus apparaissent alors tant dans les relations qu’il est possible d’établir entre différents champs scientifiques, que dans la circulation des savoirs propres à la science en train de se faire. Cette recherche pourrait d'ailleurs avoir un apport heuristique quant aux études d’ores et déjà menées depuis les années 1980 en sociologie ou en histoire des sciences, quant à l’émergence de nouvelles disciplines, de nouveaux champs et objets de recherche
Pornography is part of the landscape of our society. Starting in the 1970s, a process of massification has gradually led pornography to become a huge cultural industry, raising questions about the discourse of which it is the subject (production professionals, journalists, laymen, politicians etc.). Pornography is a social and cultural object with economic, political and aesthetic relevance and consequently seems to have gained legitimacy even within scientific research over the last decade. Established as a trend of thought on one hand (referred to in the English-speaking world as Porn Studies) and a research subfield on the other (lesbian pornography etc.), this "new" research field could certainly follow on from Gender and Sexuality Studies. This doctoral thesis proposes to clarify the process by which a marginal object is transformed into an object that fits into the academic system. The work aims to reconstitute the historical context in which the various French research projects relating to pornography emerged. The development of this historical map will allow us to explore the core of Pornography Studies in France and how they were constituted on one hand, and to describe the specific communicational aspects of knowledge construction, transformation and transmission on the other. These processes appear both in the possible relations between different scientific fields and in the flow of knowledge specific to the science that is in the making. This research could also make a heuristic contribution to studies that have already been carried out since the 1980s in Sociology or History of Science about the emergence of new disciplines and new research fields and topics