Journal articles on the topic 'Sussex scheme'

Aims and MethodTo examine the activity of the East Sussex Court Assessment and Diversion Scheme and to investigate its diagnostic formulations, recommendations and the short-term outcome of individuals referred, using a retrospective analysis of data collected over 3 years during the everyday clinical duties of scheme members.ResultsDiversion was recommended for 858 individuals from a total of 1830 referrals. Most were referred to community services, but 131 were admitted to hospital, the majority under compulsion. The number of individuals admitted to secure hospitals has increased, and delays in admitting them have lengthened. The ethnic minority population was over-represented in referrals.Clinical ImplicationsCourt liaison and diversion in East Sussex successfully directs defendants with mental disorders to appropriate resources, both general and specialist, in-patient and community. The expansion of in-patient secure services needs to continue to accommodate increased demand. Reasons why ethnic minorities are over-represented in referrals require further study.

SUMMARYThe history and epidemiology of bovine tuberculosis in cattle herds in East Sussex are described. Since 1960, following the compulsory eradication scheme for tuberculosis, the incidence of herd infection has been low. The epidemiological features of herd infection have been sporadic incidents, with only small numbers of cattle becoming infected in the majority of incidents. There was no evidence of endemic Mycobacterium bovis infection in the cattle population in East Sussex in recent years, but a low risk of infection for cattle on the South Downs, from badgers, was apparent.

The English rural myth suggested that being close to the rhythms of nature, as opposed to being immersed in the irritations and pollution of city life, would create a settled, healthy, content, and loyal population. By the inter-war period the rural myth depicted an appealing image of self-sufficient, independent peasants living an uncomplicated lifestyle based on agricultural pursuits. In the aftermath of the First World War this picture of a golden countryside was popular and admired by social reformers, members of the government, and the general public. The coalition government incorporated this myth into its post-war social legislation and created in 1919 a land settlement scheme for newly demobilized soldiers aimed at establishing a new base of smallholding agricultural workers to populate the countryside. The myth may have been appealing, but it turned out to be economically not self-sustaining and politically it got little more than lip service. A myth cannot be attained through mere legislation. This article examines the land settlement scheme in East Sussex during the inter-war period and argues that even in an area seemingly well-suited to such a program, the scheme was neither practical nor successful in its attempt to put the myth into practice.

IntroductionSuicide is a major public health issue. It is the leading cause of death among younger adults in the UK. Suicide by jumping is an uncommon method. About 23 people die each year by jumping from the cliffs at beachy head, Sussex. The beachy head chaplaincy established a suicide-prevention patrol at beachy head in August 2004. To date there have been no studies evaluating the impact of a suicide patrol as a prevention strategy. This study aimed to assess the impact of this suicide-prevention patrol.MethodsData from local and national official statistics was gathered to examine the overall suicide numbers and rates of suicide by jumping vs. other methods. This included an in-depth scrutiny of coroners’ data and reports from the beachy head chaplaincy.A qualitative, phenomenological approach using in-depth interviews was used to evaluate the “lived experiences” of members of the suicide-prevention patrol.ResultsThe statistics reveal unexpected and at times, conflicting, results which will be offered for discussion.The thematic analysis of the interviews reveals insights into the motivations for volunteering; how a faith-based patrol works; the physical and psycho-social impact of the work; volunteers’ stories; the centrality of God within their work and motivation.For copyright reasons full details of the analyses cannot be made available before the conference.DiscussionWe welcome an interactive discussion of the results.Disclosure of interestThe authors have not supplied their declaration of competing interest.

Background: Widening Access to Medicine (WAM) supports nontraditional applicants throughout application to study medicine and beyond. Many WAM programmes use medical student mentors, however, there is a paucity of research into what makes a good WAM mentor and what qualities they require. This research helps fill a gap in the literature about WAM scheme mentors and provides context for recruitment/training.<br/> Methodology: Purposive sampling was used to select three year 9 mentees, four year 9 mentors, four year 12 mentees and four year 12 mentors. No limitations were placed on gender or ethnicity. Thirty-minute semi-structured interviews were recorded, transcribed and analysed qualitatively, drawing on an interpretative phenomenological analysis approach. This study received ethical approval from the Brighton and Sussex Medical School (BSMS) Research Governance and Ethics Committee.<br/> Results: Four main themes were identified: mentor – mentee relationship, mentor background and attitudes towards WAM, qualities and behaviours of mentors and differences between year 9 and year 12 mentors.<br/> Discussion and conclusions: The results are discussed within the context of the existing literature. This research identifies the requirements for WAM mentors from both mentors and mentees' perspectives. This will inform future WAM schemes run at BSMS and may provide a basis for future research and improvement of WAM mentors nationwide.

<p>Model reference controller is considering as one of the most useful controller to specific performance of systems where the desired output is produced for a given input. This system used the difference between the outputs of the plant and the desired model by comparing them to produce the signals of the control. This paper focus on design a model reference controller (MRC) combined with (type-1 and interval type-2) fuzzy control scheme for single input-single output (SISO) systems under uncertainty and external disturbance. The model reference controller is designed firstly without fuzzy scheme based on an optimal desired model and Lyapunov stability theory. Then a (type-1 and Interval type-2) fuzzy controller Takagi-Sugeno type is combine with the suggested MRC in order to enhance the performer of it, the common parts between the two fuzzy systems such as: fuzzifier, inference engine, fuzzy rule-base and defuzzifier are illustrated. In this paper the proposed controller is applied to controla (SISO) inverted pendulum sustem and the Matlab R2015 software is used to carry out two simulation cases for the overall controlled scheme. The obtained results for the two cases show that the proposed MRC with both fuzzy control schemes have acceptable performance, but it have better performance with the interval type-2 fuzzy scheme.</p>

The scientific basis of wild grey partridge management has been known for a generation. This includes controlling nest predators, providing nesting cover, having sufficient insect food for chicks and appropriate rates of shooting. More recently, measures such as providing food for adult birds and habitats for protection from birds of prey have also been considered important. Habitat provision can be expensive, but in the UK costs can be partially recovered through governmental agri–environment schemes. The landowner still needs to pay for the essential gamekeeper. Since 2003/04, one part of the Game & Wildlife Conservation Trust’s (GWCT) Sussex Study area has put these principles of environmental management into practice with the aim of restoring a wild grey partridge shoot to this part of Southern England. Results have been impressive, with the spring pair density increasing from 0.3 pairs/100 ha in 2003 to nearly 20 pairs/100 ha in 2010 on an area of just over 10 km2. Over the past two years a wild grey partridge shoot has taken place, and the landowner and his team have gained national recognition for their conservation work.

At the 2003 ARLIS/UK & Ireland Annual Conference, Creative partnerships, at the University of Sussex, a workshop entitled Documenting electronic resources: standards and challenges attracted delegates interested in exploring the practical and theoretical issues raised by cataloguing electronic resources in traditional library environments. This article further details recent changes made to the Anglo-American cataloguing rules to accommodate various types of e-resources. While quasi-established methods of representing such resources have undergone substantial revision, new metadata schemes are emerging and divisions between respective repositories containing different material types are disintegrating. Adapted or entirely new workflows for managing cataloguing of e-resources are under development (TrackER) and a fundamental restructuring of the very framework for relating data in bibliographic records to the needs of users (FRBR) may impact significantly on the representation of e-resources in library OPACs. Do these developments in any sense touch the library user whose ‘infosphere’ is underpinned by the seamlessness of Google’s PageRank algorithm and will the Research Libraries Group’s pilot service RedLightGreen sufficiently ‘Google-ize’ what libraries provide for these users?

The roof of Dalian gymnasium was designed in the form of suspen-dome structure. A structural health–monitoring system has been developed for the roof structure to guarantee the safety condition during construction process as well as in future service. In this article, a monitoring scheme was proposed in detail according to the mechanical characteristics of the roof structure. Fiber Bragg grating sensors, inclinometers, and accelerometers were applied to measure necessary structural information. In order to interrogate different types of sensors, a novel data acquisition device of the structural health–monitoring system was also introduced and has achieved multitudinous physical variable synchronization acquisition. By analyzing the data obtained during the construction and normal operation of the gymnasium, the structural health condition was evaluated and the structural damage could subsequently be located.

AbstractMagnesium-chlorophoenicite may be differentiated from the Mn-analogue chlorophoenicite, because for magnesium-chlorophoenicite at 7Å, whereas for chlorophoenicite.In a review of the literature for the Mineral Powder Diffraction File by Bayliss et al. (1980), powder X-ray diffraction data could not be found of the mineral species magnesium-chlorophoenicite, (Mg,Mn)3Zn2(AsO4)(OH,O)6. Dunn (1981) states that the powder X-ray diffraction data of magnesium-chlorophoenicite is essentially identical to that of chlorophoenicite (Mn analogue) and confirms that the minerals are isostructural.With the crystal structure parameters determined by Moore (1968) for a Harvard University specimen from New Jersey of chlorophoenicite, a powder X-ray diffraction pattern was calculated with the programme of Langhof, Physikalische Chemie Institute, Darmstadt. The calculated pattern was used to correct and complete the indexing of the powder X-ray diffraction data of chlorophoenicite specimen ROM M15667 from Franklin, Sussex County, New Jersey, U.S.A. by the Royal Ontario Museum (PDF 25-1159). With the correctly indexed data of ROM M15667, the unitcell parameters were refined by least-squares analysis and are listed in Table 1.The most magnesium-rich magnesium-chlorophoenicite found in the literature is a description of Harvard University specimen 92803 from Franklin, Sussex County, New Jersey, U.S.A. by Dunn (1981), where Mg is slightly greater than Mn. A 114.6 mm Debye-Schemer film taken of HU92803 with Cu radiation and a Ni filter (CuKα = 1.5418Å) was obtained from Dr. P. Dunn and measured visually. The unit-cell parameters, which were refined by least-squares analysis starting from the unit-cell parameters of PDF 25-1159 in space group C2/m(#12), are listed in Table 1, and give F28 = 4.1(0.050,136) by the method of Smith & Snyder (1979).The hkl, dcalulated, dobserved and relative intensities (I/I1) of HU92803 are presented in Table 2. With the atomic positions and temperature factors of chlorophoenicite determined by Moore (1968), the Mn atomic positions occupied by 50% Mg and 50% Mn, and the unit-cell parameters of HU92803, a powder X-ray diffraction pattern was calculated and Icalculated is recorded in Table 2. A third powder X-ray diffraction pattern was calculated with the Mn atomic positions fully occupied by Mg. Because the atomic scattering factor of Mn is more than twice greater than Mg, chlorophoenicite may be differentiated from magnesium-chlorophoenicite based upon the calculated intensities of the first three reflections given in Table 3.Although the a, c and β unit-cell parameters of chlorphoenicite are similar to those of magnesium-chlorphoenicite, the b unit-cell parameter of chlorophoenicite is significantly greater than that of magnesium-chlorophoenicite (Table 1). The b unit-cell parameter represents the 0–0 distance of the Mn octahedra (Moore, 1968). Since the size of Mn is greater than that of Mg, chlorophoenicite may be differentiated from magnesium-chlorophoenicite based upon the b unit-cell parameter given in Table 1.American Museum of Natural History (New York, N.Y., U.S.A.) specimen 28942 from Sterling Hill, Ogdensburg, New Jersey is composed of willemite, haidingerite and magnesian chlorophoenicite. A spectrographic analysis of the magnesian chlorophoenicite shows As, Mg, Mn and Zn. Powder X-ray diffraction data (PDF 34-190) of the magnesian chlorophoenicite was collected by diffractometer with Cu radiation and a graphite 0002 monochromator (Kα1 = 1.5405) at a scanning speed of 0.125° 2θ per minute. The unit-cell parameters, which were refined by leastsquares analysis starting from the unit-cell parameters of PDF 25-1159, are given in Table 1. Specimen AM 28942 is called chlorophoenicite, because of its large b unit-cell parameter (Table 1), and the I/I1 of 25 for reflection 001 and of 50 for reflection 201 compared to the Icalculated in Table 3.

This article analyzes the nature and parameters of the main operational disturbances, which ener-gy is directly or indirectly transferred to the operator's workplace of tractor with a caterpillar or wheeled propeller when performing various technological operations, based on experimental re-search data. The main operating frequency range of these operational disturbances is considered. The contribution of each frequency component to the overall level of vibration at the operator's workplace is assessed. The example of implementation the results of field measurements of real op-erational disturbances and vibration characteristics on a K-744R1 (st.) wheeled tractor, which oper-ated in a unit with a PG-3-5 plane cutter in the mode of plowing stubble at a constant speed of movement was used. The comparative study of vibration-protective properties of various designs of seat suspension was carried out. The technique of field measurements, including specialized equip-ment of the ZETLAB and Assistant companies, the mode, the sensor installation scheme and other conditions are described. Using the numerical Runge-Kutta method and mathematical modeling tools in the Simulink MatLab software environment, the operation of the serial suspension of the K-744R1 (st.) tractor seat, air suspension of the Sibeco seat with a scissor guiding mechanism and the innovative air suspension of the seat (based on Sibeco) with controlled extraction of vibration ener-gy and its subsequent recuperation was simulated. There were obtained the calculated oscillograms and spectra of vertical accelerations on a seat cushion, sprung with each of the considered suspen-sions under the input action of measured real operational disturbances. The results of the analysis of the research results are summed up.

Modern pneumohydraulic suspension systems for high-speed tracked vehicles have fairly typical versions of kinematic schemes, implying the installation of an elastic-damping element directly on the suspension housing (inside or outside). This solution is structurally relatively simple, and it is understood that it allows to reduce the values of unsprung masses. Other options, with placement of elastic and damping elements inside the guide elements (balancers), did not “take root” due to the greater structural complexity of both elastic or damping element and the suspension guide element. In addition to the structural complexity of implementation, such a solution increases the values of unsprung masses and, most importantly, complicates the organization of the cooling system. The protruding elements of the chassis are clogged with soil, snow (mud) when driving, which acts as a heat insulator. Nevertheless, with modern technological capabilities, these difficulties can be over-come to a certain extent, in whole or in part. However, despite the above disadvantages, this solution also has important advantages: the sus-pension does not take up space in the reserved volume, but is completely inside the tracked bypass, which allows using the housing volume more efficiently, and, in addition, providing the most suc-cessful bottom design for protection from mine detonation (in the case of a heavy tank “Object 279”, this also made it possible to significantly increase the cross-country ability). This article provides an overview of Soviet prototypes of heavy and rocket tanks, which suspen-sion system was implemented in the guide element. The article also presents a method for determin-ing the power and kinematic transfer functions for these suspension options, analyzes the design implementations and shows that the characteristics of the elastic elements of experimental vehicles meet modern requirements for the suspensions of high-speed tracked vehicles.

This case study reports an ongoing project at the University of Sussex seeking to introduce the idea of Open Badges to the institution while exploring some of the practical issues and limiting factors associated with this method of recognising learning. The focus is on piloting Open Badges in workshops and events for staff in order to develop understanding of the advantages and challenges of this form of micro-credentialing. It is hoped that the knowledge gained from this project can be used to identify and support appropriate future staff and student-facing badging initiatives. The project aims to: (i) Develop understanding of Open Badges and their potential in higher education amongst professional service colleagues and academics. (ii) Evaluate tools and processes. (iii) Build capacity to support future projects.The project has begun to meet its aims, there is now an operational badging scheme for Technology Enhanced Learning (TEL) staff development workshops; colleagues in student-facing professional services have developed their knowledge and understanding of Open Badges and been supported in the development of plans for badging learner skills and there is increased awareness of Open Badges amongst teaching staff who have attended ‘badged’ workshops.ÂÂ

1. Make a list of things to do2. Copy list of things left undone from previous list3. Add items to list of new things needing to be done4. Add some of the things already done from previous list and immediately cross off so as to put off the feeling of an interminable list of never accomplishable tasks5. Finish writing list and sit back feeling an overwhelming sense of listlessnessIt started so well. Get up: make list: get on. But lists can breed listlessness. It can’t always be helped. The word “list” referring to a sequence of items comes from the Italian and French words for “strip”—as in a strip of material. The word “list” that you find in the compound “listlessness” comes from the old English word for pleasing (to list is to please and to desire). To be listless is to be without desire, without the desire to please. The etymologies of list and listless don’t correspond but they might seem to conspire in other ways. Oh, and by the way, ships can list when their balance is off.I list, like a ship, itemising my obligations to job, to work, to colleagues, to parenting, to family: write a reference for such and such; buy birthday present for eighty-year-old dad; finish article about lists – and so on. I forget to add to the list my necessary requirements for achieving any of this: keep breathing; eat and drink regularly; visit toilet when required. Lists make visible. Lists hide. I forget to add to my list all my worries that underscore my sense that these lists (or any list) might require an optimism that is always something of a leap of faith: I hope that electricity continues to exist; I hope my computer will still work; I hope that my sore toe isn’t the first sign of bodily paralysis; I hope that this heart will still keep beating.I was brought up on lists: the hit parade (the top one hundred “hit” singles); football leagues (not that I ever really got the hang of them); lists of kings and queens; lists of dates; lists of states; lists of elements (the periodic table). There are lists and there are lists. Some lists are really rankings. These are clearly the important lists. Where do you stand on the list? How near the bottom are you? Where is your university in the list of top universities? Have you gone down or up? To list, then, for some at least is to rank, to prioritise, to value. Is it this that produces listlessness? The sense that while you might want to rank your ten favourite films in a list, listing is something that is constantly happening to you, happening around you; you are always in amongst lists, never on top of them. To hang around the middle of lists might be all that you can hope for: no possibility of sudden lurching from the top spot; no urgent worries that you might be heading for demotion too quickly.But ranking is only one aspect of listing. Sometimes listing has a more flattening effect. I once worked as a cash-in-hand auditor (in this case a posh name for someone who counts things). A group of us (many of whom were seriously stoned) were bussed to factories and warehouses where we had to count the stock. We had to make lists of items and simply count what there was: for large items this was relatively easy, but for the myriad of miniscule parts this seemed a task for Sisyphus. In a power-tool factory in some unprepossessing town on the outskirts of London (was it Slough or Croydon or somewhere else?) we had to count bolts, nuts, washers, flex, rivets, and so on. Of course after a while we just made it up—guesstimates—as they say. A box of thousands of 6mm metal washers is a homogenous set in a list of heterogeneous parts that itself starts looking homogenous as it takes its part in the list. Listing dedifferentiates in the act of differentiating.The task of making lists, of filling-in lists, of having a list of tasks to complete encourages listlessness because to list lists towards exhaustiveness and exhaustion. Archives are lists and lists are often archives and archived. Those that work on lists and on archives constantly battle the fatigue of too many lists, of too much exhaustiveness. But could exhaustion be embraced as a necessary mood with which to deal with lists and archives? Might listlessness be something of a methodological orientation that has its own productivity in the face of so many lists?At my university there resides an archive that can appear to be a list of lists. It is the Mass-Observation archive, begun at the end of 1936 and, with a sizeable hiatus in the 1960s and 1970s, is still going today. (For a full account of Mass-Observation, see Highmore, Everyday Life chapter 6, and Hubble; for examples of Mass-Observation material, see Calder and Sheridan, and Highmore, Ordinary chapter 4; for analysis of Mass-Observation from the point of view of the observer, see Sheridan, Street, and Bloome. The flavour of the project as it emerges in the late 1930s is best conveyed by consulting Mass-Observation, Mass-Observation, First Year’s Work, and Britain.) It was begun by three men: the filmmaker Humphrey Jennings, the poet and sociologist Charles Madge, and the ornithologist and anthropologist-of-the-near Tom Harrisson. Both Jennings and Madge were heavily involved in promoting a form of social surrealism that might see buried forces in the coincidences of daily life as well as in the machinations and contingency of large political and social events (the abdication crisis, the burning of the Crystal Palace—both in late 1936). Harrisson brought a form of amateur anthropology with him that would scour football crowds, pub clientele, and cinema queues for ritualistic and symbolic forms. Mass-Observation quickly recruited a large group of voluntary observers (about a thousand) who would be “the meteorological stations from whose reports a weather-map of popular feeling can be compiled” (Mass-Observation, Mass-Observation 30). Mass-Observation combined the social survey with a relentless interest in the irrational and in what the world felt like to those who lived in it. As a consequence the file reports often seem banal and bizarre in equal measure (accounts of nightmares, housework routines, betting activities). When Mass-Observation restarted in the 1980s the surrealistic impetus became less pronounced, but it was still there, implicit in the methodology. Today, both as an on-going project and as an archive of previous observational reports, Mass-Observation lives in archival boxes. You can find a list of what topics are addressed in each box; you can also find lists of the contributors, the voluntary Mass-Observers whose observations are recorded in the boxes. What better way to give you a flavour of these boxes than to offer you a sample of their listing activities. Here are observers, observing in 1983 the objects that reside on their mantelpieces. Here’s one:champagne cork, rubber band, drawing pin, two hearing aid batteries, appointment card for chiropodist, piece of dog biscuit.Does this conjure up a world? Do we have a set of clues, of material evidence, a small cosmology of relics, a reduced Wunderkammer, out of which we can construct not the exotic but something else, something more ordinary? Do you smell camphor and imagine antimacassars? Do you hear conversations with lots of mishearing? Are the hearing aid batteries shared? Is this a single person living with a dog, or do we imagine an assembly of chiropodist-goers, dog-owners, hearing aid-users, rubber band-pingers, champagne-drinkers?But don’t get caught imagining a life out of these fragments. Don’t get stuck on this list: there are hundreds to get through. After all, what sort of an archive would it be if it included a single list? We need more lists.Here’s another mantelpiece: three penknives, a tube of cement [which I assume is the sort of rubber cement that you get in bicycle puncture repair kits], a pocket microscope, a clinical thermometer.Who is this? A hypochondriacal explorer? Or a grown-up boy-scout, botanising on the asphalt? Why so many penknives? But on, on... And another:1 letter awaiting postage stamp1 diet book1 pair of spare spectacles1 recipe for daughter’s home economics1 notepad1 pen1 bottle of indigestion tablets1 envelope containing 13 pence which is owed a friend1 pair of stick-on heels for home shoe repairing session3 letters in day’s post1 envelope containing money for week’s milk bill1 recipe cut from magazine2 out of date letters from schoolWhat is the connection between the daughter’s home economics recipe and the indigestion tablets? Is the homework gastronomy not quite going to plan? Or is the diet book causing side-effects? And what sort of financial stickler remembers that they owe 13p; even in 1983 this was hardly much money? Or is it the friend who is the stickler? Perhaps this is just prying...?But you need more. Here’s yet another:an ashtray, a pipe, pipe tamper and tobacco pouch, one decorated stone and one plain stone, a painted clay model of an alien, an enamelled metal egg from Hong Kong, a copper bracelet, a polished shell, a snowstorm of Father Christmas in his sleigh...Ah, a pipe smoker, this much is clear. But apart from this the display sounds ritualistic – one stone decorated the other not. What sort of religion is this? What sort of magic? An alien and Santa. An egg, a shell, a bracelet. A riddle.And another:Two 12 gauge shotgun cartridges live 0 spread Rubber plantBrass carriage clockInternational press clock1950s cigarette dispenser Model of Panzer MKIV tankWWI shell fuseWWI shell case ash tray containing an acorn, twelve .22 rounds of ammunition, a .455 Eley round and a drawing pinPhoto of Eric Liddell (Chariots of Fire)Souvenir of Algerian ash tray containing marbles and beach stonesThree 1930s plastic duck clothes brushesLetter holder containing postcards and invitations. Holder in shape of a cow1970s Whizzwheels toy carWooden box of jeweller’s rottenstone (Victorian)Incense holderWorld war one German fuse (used)Jim Beam bottle with candle thereinSol beer bottle with candle therein I’m getting worried now. Who are these people who write for Mass-Observation? Why so much military paraphernalia? Why such detail as to the calibrations? Should I concern myself that small militias are holding out behind the net curtains and aspidistra plants of suburban England?And another:1930s AA BadgeAvocado PlantWooden cat from MexicoKahlua bottle with candle there in1950s matchbook with “merry widow” cocktail printed thereonTwo Britain’s model cannonOne brass “Carronade” from the Carron Iron Works factory shopPhotography pass from Parkhead 12/11/88Grouse foot kilt pinBrass incense holderPheasant featherNovitake cupBlack ash tray with beach pebbles there inFull packet of Mary Long cigarettes from HollandPewter cocktail shaker made in ShanghaiI’m feeling distance. Who says “there in” and “there on?” What is a Novitake cup? Perhaps I wrote it down incorrectly? An avocado plant stirs memories of trying to grow one from an avocado stone skewered in a cup with one “point” dunked in a bit of water. Did it ever grow, or just rot? I’m getting distracted now, drifting off, feeling sleepy...Some more then – let’s feed the listlessness of the list:Wood sculpture (Tenerife)A Rubber bandBirdJunior aspirinToy dinosaur Small photo of daughterSmall paint brushAh yes the banal bizarreness of ordinary life: dinosaurs and aspirins, paint brushes and rubber bands.But then a list comes along and pierces you:Six inch piece of grey eyeliner1 pair of nail clippers1 large box of matches1 Rubber band2 large hair gripsHalf a piece of cough candy1 screwed up tissue1 small bottle with tranquillizers in1 dead (but still in good condition) butterfly (which I intended to draw but placed it now to rest in the garden) it was already dead when I found it.The dead butterfly, the tranquillizers, the insistence that the mantelpiece user didn’t actually kill the butterfly, the half piece of cough candy, the screwed up tissue. In amongst the rubber bands and matches, signs of something desperate. Or maybe not: a holding on (the truly desperate haven’t found their way to the giant tranquillizer cupboard), a keeping a lid on it, a desire (to draw, to place a dead butterfly at rest in the garden)...And here is the methodology emerging: the lists works on the reader, listing them, and making them listless. After a while the lists (and there are hundreds of these lists of mantle-shelf items) begin to merge. One giant mantle shelf filled with small stacks of foreign coins, rubber bands and dead insects. They invite you to be both magical ethnographer and deadpan sociologist at one and the same time (for example, see Hurdley). The “Martian” ethnographer imagines the mantelpiece as a shrine where this culture worships the lone rubber band and itinerant button. Clearly a place of reliquary—on this planet the residents set up altars where they place their sacred objects: clocks and clippers; ammunition and amulets; coins and pills; candles and cosmetics. Or else something more sober, more sombre: late twentieth century petite-bourgeois taste required the mantelpiece to hold the signs of aspirant propriety in the form of emblems of tradition (forget the coins and the dead insects and weaponry: focus on the carriage clocks). And yet, either way, it is the final shelf that gets me every time. But it only got me, I think, because the archive had worked its magic: ransacked my will, my need to please, my desire. It had, for a while at least, made me listless, and listless enough to be touched by something that was really a minor catalogue of remainders. This sense of listlessness is the way that the archive productively defeats the “desire for the archive.” It is hard to visit an archive without an expectation, without an “image repertoire,” already in mind. This could be thought of as the apperception-schema of archival searching: the desire to see patterns already imagined; the desire to find the evidence for the thought whose shape has already formed. Such apperception is hard to avoid (probably impossible), but the boredom of the archive, its ceaselessness, has a way of undoing it, of emptying it. It corresponds to two aesthetic positions and propositions. One is well-known: it is Barthes’s distinction between “studium” and “punctum.” For Barthes, studium refers to a sort of social interest that is always, to some degree, satisfied by a document (his concern, of course, is with photographs). The punctum, on the other hand, spills out from the photograph as a sort of metonymical excess, quite distinct from social interest (but for all that, not asocial). While Barthes is clearly offering a phenomenology of viewing photographs, he isn’t overly interested (here at any rate) with the sort of perceptional-state the viewer might need to be in to be pierced by the puntum of an image. My sense, though, is that boredom, listlessness, tiredness, a sort of aching indifference, a mood of inattentiveness, a sense of satiated interest (but not the sort of disinterest of Kantian aesthetics), could all be beneficial to a punctum-like experience. The second aesthetic position is not so well-known. The Austrian dye-technician, lawyer and art-educationalist Anton Ehrenzweig wrote, during the 1950s and 1960s, about a form of inattentive-attention, and a form of afocal-rendering (eye-repelling rather than eye-catching), that encouraged eye-wandering, scanning, and the “‘full’ emptiness of attention” (Ehrenzweig, The Hidden Order 39). His was an aesthetics attuned to the kind of art produced by Paul Klee, but it was also an aesthetic propensity useful for making wallpaper and for productively connecting to unconscious processes. Like Barthes, Ehrenzweig doesn’t pursue the sort of affective state of being that might enhance such inattentive-attention, but it is not hard to imagine that the sort of library-tiredness of the archive would be a fitting preparation for “full emptiness.” Ehrenzweig and Barthes can be useful for exploring this archival mood, this orientation and attunement, which is also a disorientation and mis-attunement. Trawling through lists encourages scanning: your sensibilities are prepared; your attention is being trained. After a while, though, the lists blur, concentration starts to loosen its grip. The lists are not innocent recipients here. Shrapnel shards pull at you. You start to notice the patterns but also the spaces in-between that don’t seem to fit sociological categorisations. The strangeness of the patterns hypnotises you and while the effect can generate a sense of sociological-anthropological homogeneity-with-difference, sometimes the singularity of an item leaps out catching you unawares. An archive is an orchestration of order and disorder: however contained and constrained it appears it is always spilling out beyond its organisational structures (amongst the many accounts of archives in terms of their orderings, see Sekula, and Stoler, Race and Along). Like “Probate Inventories,” the mantelpiece archive presents material objects that connect us (however indirectly) to embodied practices and living spaces (Evans). The Mass-Observation archive, especially in its mantelpiece collection, is an accretion of temporalities and spaces. More crucially, it is an accumulation of temporalities materialised in a mass of spaces. A thousand mantelpieces in a thousand rooms scattered across the United Kingdom. Each shelf is syncopated to the rhythms of diverse durations, while being synchronised to the perpetual now of the shelf: a carriage clock, for instance, inherited from a deceased parent, its brass detailing relating to a different age, its mechanism perpetually telling you that the time of this space is now. The archive carries you away to a thousand living rooms filled with the momentary (dead insects) and the eternal (pebbles) and everything in-between. Its centrifugal force propels you out to a vast accrual of things: ashtrays, rubber bands, military paraphernalia, toy dinosaurs; a thousand living museums of the incidental and the memorial. This vertiginous archive threatens to undo you; each shelf a montage of times held materially together in space. It is too much. It pushes me towards the mantelshelves I know, the ones I’ve had a hand in. Each one an archive in itself: my grandfather’s green glass paperweight holding a fragile silver foil flower in its eternal grasp; the potions and lotions that feed my hypochondria; used train tickets. Each item pushes outwards to other times, other spaces, other people, other things. It is hard to focus, hard to cling onto anything. Was it the dead butterfly, or the tranquillizers, or both, that finally nailed me? Or was it the half a cough-candy? I know what she means by leaving the remnants of this sweet. You remember the taste, you think you loved them as a child, they have such a distinctive candy twist and colour, but actually their taste is harsh, challenging, bitter. There is nothing as ephemeral and as “useless” as a sweet; and yet few things are similarly evocative of times past, of times lost. Yes, I think I’d leave half a cough-candy on a shelf, gathering dust.[All these lists of mantelpiece items are taken from the Mass-Observation archive at the University of Sussex. 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