Artigos de revistas sobre o tema "Cellular telephone calls"

Playback is an important method of surveying animals, assessing habitats and studying animal communication. However, conventional playback methods require on-site observers and therefore become labour-intensive when covering large areas. Such limitations could be circumvented by the use of cellular telephony, a ubiquitous technology with increasing biological applications. In addressing concerns about the low audio quality of cellular telephones, this paper presents experimental data to show that owls of two species ( Strix varia and Megascops asio ) respond similarly to calls played through cellular telephones as to calls played through conventional playback technology. In addition, the telephone audio recordings are of sufficient quality to detect most of the two owl species' responses. These findings are a first important step towards large-scale applications where networks of cellular phones conduct real-time monitoring tasks.

ABSTRACTObjective: To study when and how an urgent public health message about a boil-water order reached an urban population after the Massachusetts water main break.Methods: In-person surveys were conducted in waiting areas of clinics and emergency departments at a large urban safety net hospital within 1 week of the event.Results: Of 533 respondents, 97% were aware of the order; 34% of those who lived in affected cities or towns were potentially exposed to contaminated water. Among those who were aware, 98% took action. Respondents first received the message through word of mouth (33%), television (25%), cellular telephone calls (20%), landline calls (10%), and other modes of communication (12%). In multivariate analyses, foreign-born respondents and those who lived outside the city of Boston had a higher risk of exposure to contaminated water. New modes (eg, cellular telephones) were used more commonly by females and younger individuals (ages 18 to 34). Individuals who did not speak English at home were more likely to receive the message through their personal networks.Conclusions: Given the increasing prevalence of cellular telephone use, public officials should encourage residents to register landline and cellular telephone for emergency alerts and must develop creative ways to reach immigrants and non–English-speaking groups quickly via personal networks.(Disaster Med Public Health Preparedness. 2011;5:235–241)

SmarTraveler was implemented as an operational test of an advanced traveler information system in the Boston metropolitan area. Users call the service from cellular or conventional telephones to receive realtime, route-specific traffic and transit information free of charge (except for any telephone company charges). Several evaluations were conducted since the service began in January 1993, to assess public acceptance of the information provided by SmarTraveler. Findings on user perceptions of and response to the program during its second year of operation, from April through December 1994, are summarized. Calling frequency increased during this period. Calls from cellular telephones made up 61 percent of the total calls received, even though cellular telephone callers were in the minority of the user population. Users were found to be quite satisfied with the service, especially in comparison with broadcast media traffic reports. In particular, they found SmarTraveler easy to use and were pleased with its availability on demand, its up-to-the-minute information, and its coverage of major routes. Two-thirds of current users said that SmarTraveler helped reduce anxiety. Although virtually all users said they would continue calling SmarTraveler in the future, users indicated substantial sensitivity to the potential imposition of a service fee.

This study aims to design and build a VoIP billing server that is used for calculating the cost of telephone conversations and designing a VoIP practicum module for students.The research method was carried out by conducting literature studies, network design planning, device configuration, determination of billing parameters and VoIP call testing to determine call quality and VoIP billing function.The result of this thesis is a telephone billing system application that is used to calculate VoIP-based telephone costs and the softphone application as a telecommunications medium. Where the billing server is well configured with the softphone application, the softphone application uses the simcard as data verification provided by the admin. The results of testing the success of telephone charges when 2 clients make calls with an initial pulse of 100 Rupiah, the result is a calculation of 100% between manual calculations and program calculations. And when the test was carried out, making calls more than 2 clients produced different data between manual and program calculations with an average of 101.75, the program calculation was on manual calculation of 100.The results of this difference were only for the first and second callers, the next caller had the results which is the same as manual calculation.

In 1993 the SmarTraveler advanced traveler information system (ATIS) was introduced to travelers in the greater Boston area as part of an operational test jointly funded by FHWA and the Massachusetts Executive Office of Transportation and Construction. The service offers real-time, route-specific travel information by phone for major highways and public transit. During the 3-year test period from January 1993 to January 1996, service usage grew to nearly 60,000 calls per week, made by an average of more than 20,000 users. To achieve this growth, SmarTraveler was marketed to both cellular and land-line phone users using a variety of strategies over the course of the test. Evaluation and monitoring studies were commissioned to examine the degree to which users responded to SmarTraveler and the marketing program. The evaluation included extensive surveys of users and nonusers as well as tracking of calls and call frequency. The findings of the independent evaluation team on the success of various promotional efforts associated with the SmarTraveler operational test are presented. Overall, the marketing program aimed at the broad target market during the first 2 years appears to have been only partly successful in increasing the public’s level of awareness of SmarTraveler, in convincing its target market of SmarTraveler’s superiority to radio and TV travel reports, and in inducing trials. As a result of the second-year evaluation, changes were made to marketing and pricing during the third year of operation to target cellular telephone users. Further surveys were conducted to examine cellular telephone user response to these changes. SmarTraveler experienced a large increase in calls and users in the third year, especially in the cellular telephone market. Among the survey findings was that this market is quite price sensitive.

In this paper, a deep learning algorithm was proposed to ensure the voice call quality of the cellular communication networks. This proposed model was consecutively monitoring the voice data packets and ensuring the proper message between the transmitter and receiver. The phone sends its unique identification code to the station. The telephone and station maintain a constant radio connection and exchange packets from time to time. The phone can communicate with the station via analog protocol (NMT-450) or digital (DAMPS, GSM). Cellular networks may have base stations of different standards, which allow you to improve network performance and improve its coverage. Cellular networks are different operators connected to each other, as well as a fixed telephone network that allows subscribers of one operator to another to make calls from mobile phones to landlines and from landlines to mobiles. The simulation is conducted in Matlab against different performance metrics, that is, related to the quality of service metric. The results of the simulation show that the proposed method has a higher QoS rate than the existing method over an average of 97.35%.

The California Highway Patrol in San Diego County receives cellular telephone calls reporting unsafe driving. The content of the calls varies, with drivers complaining about speeding cars driving over 161 km/h (100 mph) and other drivers weaving and cutting off or tailgating. In some cases, the driving conditions were even more volatile with drivers describing harassment, assaults with a weapon, or running other vehicles off the road. There were about 1,987 reported incidents from the freeways of San Diego for the months of April, June, and September 1998. The information received by the dispatchers was tabulated and put into five different categories. Analyses indicated that 24.6 percent of the calls were for “Aggressive Driving 1” (speeding plus some other behavior, such as unsafe lane changes or passing); “Aggressive Driving 2” (weaving and cutting) was reported most frequently (27.1 percent of all calls); about 12.5 percent of the calls were for “Aggressive Driving 3” (tailgating); “Speeding Alone” calls comprised 19.8 percent of the total; and the rest were for “Road Rage” (16.1 percent). Of the 1,987 calls, 33 percent were generated on Interstate 5, the busiest and longest in the county, followed by Interstate 15, which accounted for 22 percent of the calls. The high number of calls can be attributed to the high average daily traffic volumes at each interchange and the longer interstate lengths. Similarly, Interstate 8 seemed to have a lower number of calls than expected, because the urban portion of the freeway is not as long and the remaining distance had fewer vehicles at each interchange. This was further corroborated and both volume and length were robustly correlated with the number of phone reports per freeway. Additionally, chi-square tests indicated that the time of the day and day of the week influenced the type and number of calls received.

This research uses a qualitative descriptive approach because the approach can easily obtain in-depth information. The basic impetus for choosing this method is to answer the role of the Aiditel business unit in developing the economy of the boarding school, data collection techniques through interviews are the techniques used by the author to obtain existing information, and the results of this study are that over time seeing the needs of students and walisantri in communicating so that a telephone shop appears and then from the telephone shop it develops to provide stationery, and until now it continues to develop until the times also make this Aiditel wartel not only provide cellular phones and stationery but also provide video calls via WhatsApp, then the finances from the results of this business are reported regularly to the leadership of the boarding school, which will then be combined with cooperatives and other business units which will be managed directly by Mrs. Nyai for the needs of infrastructure and other needs.

A modern telephone can only be used if it is a dual-band transceiver. Also, an indispensable condition is the availability of Internet access. Modern cell phones can only be used for their intended purpose: making calls. Due to the fact that the operating system is preinstalled on devices, the list of possibilities for gadgets could be expanded almost indefinitely. So you can even do a full-fledged dual-band transceiver from a cell phone. In this paper, an innovation in the development of mobile radio models dual-band transceivers in wireless cellular communication is proposed. For the dual-band transceiver in the phone to work, you need an Internet connection. Progress in the development of technologies for mobile networks does not stand still, and with each new standard and technology for mobile networks, new opportunities for using the network open up for end subscribers. It is based on packet voice data transmission called push-to-talk.

Latest technologies of voice over IP (VoIP) and mobile messaging for smartphones messengers such as WhatsApp, Viber, Skype, etc., offer free-of-charge facilities of worldwide SMS, MMS, and voice calls to their users, unlike the traditional and expensive cellular or telephone networks’ services. Customers of the formerly mentioned messengers are estimated in millions because of the attractive features offered by them. However, these messengers face many cyber security threats and the required security features are either not available at all or are insufficient for efficiently countering the threats. Professionals working in the domain of cyber security are challenged by the devastating effects of distributed denial of service (DDoS) attacks on all major platforms including Apple Macintosh, Windows, Unix, and Linux. In this paper, we demonstrate the effect of DDoS attack on the performance of an IRC server using a test bed. We use a game theoretic model to analyze the feasibility of DDoS attacks on the IRC platform, keeping in view the attacker’s objective. The analysis will help the security experts to propose appropriate countermeasures to reduce the attackers’ utility, thereby making it less attractive for those attackers to launch the attack.

INTRODUCTION: Esophageal cancer has a poor prognosis. For a long time, surgery was the standard treatment for localized esophageal cancer. Since the Herskovic trial, radiotherapy combined with platinum-based chemotherapy has become the standard neoadjuvant or exclusive treatment for esophageal cancer. We report the experiences of two public radiotherapy centers in Dakar, focusing on the problems related to the follow-up of treated localized forms of esophageal cancer. MATERIALS AND METHODS: All patients treated with radiotherapy in the Radiotherapy Departments of Aristide le Dantec and Dalal Jamm Hospitals from 2018 to 2021 for histologically proven localized esophageal cancer were included. Retrospectively, we called all families to get updates on the follow-up conditions and death of the patients. RESULTS: From 2018 to 2021, 152 patients were treated for localized esophageal cancer. The median age was 48 years (18 – 68) with a majority of men (55.9%). The classical risk factors of alcohol and tobacco were low, 4.6% and 11.2% respectively. The WHO 3 general condition was more common (58.5%). Squamous cell carcinoma was the histological type found with good cellular differentiation (57.2%). Overall, the patients were classified as T3 in 52.6% of cases and 82 (54%) of patients were classified as N1. The extension workup did not find any distant disease. Neoadjuvant chemotherapy was performed in 85 (55.9%) patients, concomitant chemotherapy in 131 (86.2%) patients. All patients had radiotherapy at a median dose of 47 Gy (30 – 50) with a fractionation of two Gy (1.8 to two). After a median follow-up of 21.23 months, a complete clinical response was noted in 91 (59.8%) patients and 13 patients had a complete histological response following biopsy and pathological examination requested by their referring physicians. Seven patients died during the treatment due to an alteration of the general state. After treatment, 62 (40.7%) patients died. Alteration of general condition following gastrostomy was the main cause of death (66.1%) reported by the families. Twenty-seven (17.7%) patients were considered lost to follow-up after several telephone calls. CONCLUSION: The prognosis of esophageal cancer in Senegal is appalling. This work shows that more organization is needed in the patient circuit and especially in the follow-up.

The article examines the external influence of the Russian Federation (RF) on servicemen of the Armed Forces of Ukraine (AFU) through mobile communications. The purpose of the article is to systematize information on the use of mobile communications in the framework of the Russian Federation information and psychological impact on Ukrainian servicemen in the area of the Anti-Terrorist Operation (ATO). It was emphasized that the active influence on the servicemen of the Armed Forces of Ukraine by the units of the information operations of the Armed Forces of the Russian Federation is connected with the beginning of the Anti-Terrorist Operation (ATO) in Donetsk and Luhansk regions and continues to this day. The main forms of influence on the servicemen of the Armed Forces of Ukraine through the means of mobile communication are highlighted: sending messages of a demoralizing nature; determining the location of units of the Armed Forces for further fire damage; disruption of the cellular communication system with the use of electronic warfare; use of mobile phones as an additional source of leaks of official information; collecting information on the organizational and staffing structure of the Armed Forces. In order to demoralize the servicemen of the Armed Forces of Ukraine and disrupt the tasks assigned to them, SMS messages with threats and insults and telephone calls to the military and their relatives are actively used. The main ways of using mobile networks by the enemy, which give access to the intelligence services of the Russian Federation to information about the location of the subscriber: through the activities of companies providing mobile services that are wholly or partly owned by Russian citizens; through means of electronic warfare (military system RB-341V "Leer-3", which suppresses GSM communications through interference transmitted from unmanned aerial vehicles). The work of the commanders of the units of the Armed Forces of Ukraine on preventing the influence of the enemy through the means of mobile communication on Ukrainian soldiers is outlined. It was found out that during the fighting in the ATO (OOS) zone, servicemen were forbidden to carry individual means of communication (mobile devices) and information. These tools were used under the control of commanders at a strictly allotted time and place.

Preventing man-in-the-middle (MiTM) attack using Artificial Neural Network refers to an in depth analysis of how calls are made vis-a-viz the structure of the inter-related operations that binds the respective subsystems within the GSM Architecture during calls. Calls in the GSM network is a request from aMobile Station (MS). This request has faced severe attacks due to the network’s access to Internet presence that has made its way into cellular telephony, creating a vulnerable and susceptible network attack such as Man-in-the-middle. This paper proffer solution to Man-in-the-middle attack during GSM calls by using Artificial Neural Network which can be embedded into the Protocol Stack to detect network intrusion and prevent Man-in-the-middle attack to obtain hitch-free local and international calls.

Background Predictors of relapse to methamphetamine use are poorly understood. State variables may play an important role in relapse, but they have been difficult to measure at frequent intervals in outpatients. Methods We conducted a feasibility study of the use of cellular telephones to collect state variable data from outpatients. Six subjects in treatment for methamphetamine dependence were called three times per weekday for approximately seven weeks. Seven questionnaires were administered that assessed craving, stress, affect and current type of location and social environment. Results 395/606 (65%) of calls attempted were completed. The mean time to complete each call was 4.9 (s.d. 1.8) minutes and the mean time to complete each item was 8.4 (s.d. 4.8) seconds. Subjects rated the acceptability of the procedures as good. All six cellular phones and battery chargers were returned undamaged. Conclusion Cellular telephones are a feasible method for collecting state data from methamphetamine dependent outpatients.

The field of wireless cellular network technology has seen a significant development in recent years, allowing the emergence of many new applications in addition to the traditional mobile phone calls. We are currently implementing the 5G system, which is replacing the previous cellular technologies on the market. Parallel to the development of cellular technologies, wireless local networks based on the IEEE 802.11× standards are rapidly spreading. The desire to use the advantages of both mobile telephony and wireless local networks has led to the idea of integrating the currently used communication systems in one device and requires a well-designed antenna, which should be given a lot of attention when designing the radio system. This article presents the proposed model of a two-band microstrip antenna for which the main assumption is its operating frequencies in the LTE-U (LTE-Unlicensed) band and one of the 5G system bands. The antenna dimensions and parameters have been calculated, simulated, and optimized using CST Microwave Studio software. The developed antenna has a compact structure with dimensions of (60 × 40 × 1.57) mm. The dielectric material RT Duroid 5880 with a dielectric constant εr = 2.2 and thickness h = 1.57 mm was used as a substrate for the antenna construction. The article presents an analysis of the results of simulation and measurements of selected electrical parameters and radiation characteristics of the proposed antenna. The antenna described in the article, working in 5G systems and LTE-U systems, is characterized by two operating bands with center frequencies equal to 3.52 GHz and 5.37 GHz, a low reflection coefficient (for resonances −31.54 dB and −23.16 dB), a gain value of 4.45 dBi, a wide frequency band of 3.0 GHz (68.18%), and a high energy efficiency in the range of 80–96.68%.

Graph Theory International audience In the frequency allocation problem, we are given a cellular telephone network whose geographical coverage area is divided into cells, where phone calls are serviced by assigned frequencies, so that none of the pairs of calls emanating from the same or neighboring cells is assigned the same frequency. The problem is to use the frequencies efficiently, i.e. minimize the span of frequencies used. The frequency allocation problem can be regarded as a multicoloring problem on a weighted hexagonal graph, where each vertex knows its position in the graph. We present a 1-local 33/24-competitive distributed algorithm for multicoloring a hexagonal graph, thereby improving the previous 1-local 7/5-competitive algorithm.

Whether it is hand held, in a pocket, on a backpack, clipped to a belt, or hidden in a brief case or purse, college students and cellular telephones go together. Communication with fellow students, professors, parents, and everyone else is just a click away. While walking across campus and down the halls of academic buildings, cellular telephones are being used. This research questions in what ways do students use cellular telephones and does this use interfere with or assist in learning and college life? This paper reports the results of a survey of undergraduate business students addressing this question. The objectives were to determine: (1) how much time is spent using a cell phone and which phone features are used most frequently, (2) what students believe concerning the impact of cell phones on learning in the classroom and during study, (3) how often students are in contact with parents on a cell phone, and (4) how much do students pay for cell phone services. The results indicate that 100% of the students own a cell phone. Sixty-six percent of the students use voice calls most frequently and 30% use text messages most often. A total of 55.8% of students report that they spend 3 hours or less on their cell phone daily and 44.8% spend four or more hours daily on their cell phones. Over half of the students report that they have some interaction with their cell phones during class time for every class. Seventy-seven percent state that this cell phone use seldom or never interferes with classroom learning. All of the students (100%) believe that they should be able to receive emergency information over a cell phone during class time. Seventy-six percent believe that cell phones seldom or never assist in classroom learning. However, students report that cell phone use impacts on study time outside of class. Cell phone distractions during study time outside class was reported by 34.6% of the students as happening often or always and an additional 43.5% are sometimes distracted by cell phones during study time. Bad or upsetting news received over a cell phone before class impacts academic performance of 14.2% of the students often or always. Thirty-five percent of the students talk to parents more than once a day and another 23.7% have contact on a daily basis. Therefore, 59.5% report that they have contact with their parents at least once a day. Fifteen percent of the students pay over $100 per month for cell phone service, 28% pay from $75 to $100, 34% spend $51 to $75, and 14% spend $26 to $50 per month. More than 90% of the students report that they have text messaging, calculator, clock, calendar, and appointment reminder on their cell phone. Over 70% have the internet and games. Over 60% have a camera and email. Only 13% have an MP3 music player and 7% have an FM radio.

Introduction A mobile phone is a mobile electronic device used to make telephone calls across a wide geographic area and supports services such as Short Messaging Service SMS Multi Messaging Service MMS E-mail and internet access short-range wireless infrared or bluetooth communications gaming applications and photography. Cellular telephones may be responsible for periodical increase in arterial blood pressure changes in electric activity of the brain. Posture of holding phone between raised shoulder and ear could have a damaging effect on muscles bones tendons and discs. Objective The objective of the study was to create awareness regarding long term health hazards of mobile phone usage in young generation.Methodology The research design used in the study was one group pre-test and post-test design using preexperimental research design with random sampling technique. Data was collected from 130 students using a self-structured knowledge questionnaire. Structured teaching program STP was implemented and post-test was conducted after seven days using the same questionnaire.Results The overall pre-test knowledge score was found to be 34.20 and post-test knowledge score was found to be 66.55 and enhancement in the mean percentage knowledge score was found to be significant at 5 level. There was a significant association between post-test knowledge scores and selected demographic variables with gender department educational status of parents occupation of parents duration of mobile usage per day and information regarding health hazards of mobile phones.Conclusion The findings revealed that there was a knowledge deficit among students regarding health hazards of mobile phone usage and STP was effective in enhancing their knowledge.nbsp

AbstractCommunity‐based memory screening may reduce barriers and increase access to earlier diagnosis and care of Alzheimer’s disease and related dementias (ADRDs). The Memory Screening in the Community program was developed to provide cognitive screens for community members (“customers”) through Aging & Disability Resource Centers (ADRCs) across the state of Wisconsin. We evaluated program results for screens completed between 2/2022‐12/2022.Trained ADRC staff administered a Memory Screening survey to customers during memory screening events, walk‐ins, or scheduled appointments. The Memory Screening survey collected site information, appointment type, demographics, living arrangements, and reasons for screen. Staff administered the Mini‐cog, Animal Naming, and/or AD8 instruments. Upon screen completion, staff indicated whether they recommended customers seek follow‐up evaluation with their primary care providers (PCPs) and provided education. After 6‐9 months, staff followed up with customers who received referrals over telephone to gather post‐screening and outcomes information.647 surveys were completed across 39 counties and 5 tribal communities in Wisconsin (Figure 1). Most (∼52%) evaluations were conducted during a memory screening event and 37.4% of screens were completed due to customer memory concerns. Most customers were White (93.7%), women (70.2%), and between 70‐79 years old (31.7%; see Table). Screen results from 214 customers suggested potential cognitive impairment and they were recommended to follow‐up with their PCPs. Most memory screens included discussions about brain health, potential causes of symptoms, dementia warning signs, and importance of early detection (Figure 2). Of customers who were referred to PCPs and agreed to follow‐up calls (n = 166), 20 have completed follow‐up calls (data collection ongoing). Of these 20, 60% (n = 12) met with their PCPs, and 42% (n = 5) received a dementia diagnosis.The Memory Screening in the Community program is feasible and has potential to provide access for cognitive screening and dementia education, especially among rural communities. In addition, roughly 1/3 of all customers screened were referred to a provider. Preliminary follow‐up data suggests community‐screening programs could facilitate diagnostic evaluation and results will be updated with a larger follow‐up sample. Overall, this evaluation demonstrates that community memory screening programs may be an effective first‐line approach in addressing ADRD‐related concerns in the community.

ObjectiveHyponatremia is the most common electrolyte disorder encountered in patients with neurological conditions, such as stroke. Studies have shown that it is associated with worse clinical outcomes and increased mortality in acute ischemic stroke (AIS). However, the role of hyponatremia has not been elucidated in patients with AIS who received intravenous thrombolysis (IVT) therapy. Therefore, this study aimed to investigate the effect of serum sodium levels on the clinical outcome and hemorrhagic transformation (HT) in patients with AIS who received thrombolytic therapy.MethodsPatients diagnosed with AIS who received IVT therapy between May 2015 and December 2020 were included in this study. All patients were screened for serum sodium levels immediately after hospital admission, before IVT therapy. The occurrence of HT was evaluated using computed tomography (CT) 24 ± 2 h after thrombolysis. Then, 3-month clinical outcomes were obtained by telephone calls or outpatient visits, and poor 3-month clinical outcomes were defined as modified Rankin Scale scores ≥3. The effects of serum sodium levels on the clinical outcome and HT were assessed using the multivariate logistic regression analysis.ResultsOf the 963 included patients, 82 (8.5%) had hyponatremia, 157 (16.3%) developed HT, and 333 (34.6%) had poor 3-month outcomes. Of the 82 patients with hyponatremia, 21 (25.6%) developed HT, and 39 (47.6%) had poor 3-month outcomes. Patients with hyponatremia had a higher incidence of post-thrombolysis HT (25.6 vs. 15.4%, p = 0.017) and worse clinical outcome (47.6 vs. 33.4%, p = 0.01) than those with normal serum sodium levels. Patients had significantly lower serum sodium levels in those with HT [138.4 (136.4–140.3, IQR) vs. 139.0 (137.2–140.7, IQR) mmol/L, p = 0.019] and poor 3 month outcome [139.0 (137.2–140.7) vs. 138.4 (136.7–140.3) mmol/L, p = 0.005] than those without. After adjusting for major covariates, the multivariate logistic regression analysis revealed that lower serum sodium levels were independently associated with an increased risk of HT [odds ratio (OR) = 1.804; 95% CI: 1.048–3.105] and poor 3-month outcome (OR = 1.647; 95% CI: 1.012–2.679).ConclusionLower serum sodium level was an independent risk factor for post-thrombolysis HT and poor clinical outcome in patients with AIS who received thrombolytic therapy.

ABSTRACT RBT music is a phenomenon enjoyed by millions  of fans.  RBT, better known as ring back tones  have become part of the lifestyle  of subscribers.  Ring back tones have sound meanings  (as music) which are experienced by callers after placing their calls. The music is heard by callers till the phone is answered.  The phenomena of RBT is capable of gaining  the interest  of a million customers. In Indonesia  cellphone use has become widespread, cheap and available.  The  func- tion  of the cellular  telephone can facilitate  the acquisition  of needs for its owner. In general urban centers around the world will form social  networks,  engage in capitalism,  popular cul- ture  and life styles. The  development  of this phenomenon is inseparable from capitalism  itself. Through RBT consumers can easily  download their favorite songs. In the context  of this phe- nomenon capitalism,  pop culture  and lifestyle represent three inseparable interrelated  elements. Keywords: Music RBT, Capitalisme, CulturalPopular,  Lifestyle.     ABSTRAK Musik RBT merupakan fenomena yang digemari berjuta pelanggan. RBT atau yang lebih dikenal dengan  nada sambung menjadi gaya hidup para pelanggannya. Nada sambung (ring back tone) memiliki arti suara (musik) yang di dengar lewat jalur telepon oleh pihak penelepon setelah melakukan pemanggilan. Musik tersebut dapat di dengar pihak yang menghubungi sampai telepon dijawab.Fenomena RBT mampu meraih berjuta pelanggan. Di Indonesia, pengguna Hp menjadi sangat umum, murah dan terjangkau. Fungsi telepon seluler akan lebih memfasilitasi pemenuhan kebutuhan pemiliknya. Secara umum, kota-kota urban di dunia akan membentuk jaringan sosial, kapitalisme, budaya popular, dan gaya hidup. Perkembagan fenomena ini tidak terlepas karena adanya kapitalisme.Melalui RBT, para konsumen dengan mudah mendownloadlagu-lagu yang digemari. Berkaitan dengan fenomena tersebut, kapitalisme, budaya pop(ular) dan gaya hidup merupakan tiga serangkai yang tidak dapat dipisahkan. Kata kunci: Kapitalisme, Budaya Populer, Gaya Hidup

AbstractBackgroundSubjective Cognitive Decline (SCD) is a condition characterized by consistent cognitive complaints in cognitively unimpaired (CU) individuals and is associated with progressive cognitive impairment, especially in the context of Alzheimer’s disease (AD). We aimed to show the study protocol and the preliminary results of the Brazilian Subjective Cognitive Decline (BRASCODE) Cohort.MethodCU individuals with > 65 years old and cognitive complaints were recruited. Exclusion criteria were previous diagnosis of dementia, uncontrolled neuropsychiatric/clinical illness, or cerebrovascular disease. The assessment was performed exclusively by phone calls. It consisted of a brief cognitive (Modified Telephone Interview for Cognitive Status ‐ TICS‐M) and anxiety/depression screenings, in addition to the SCD‐scale (Figure 1).ResultBetween March and November 2022, 52 SCD patients were included, 73.1% (n = 38) women. Their median interquartile range (IQR) age was 70 (68‐73) years old, with 16 (9.25‐19) years of formal education and median score of 28.5 (IQR 26,30) on Mini Mental State Examination (MMSE) (Table 1). Percentage of agreement on the presence of cognitive complaints between informants and patients was 38.5%. The main SCD‐plus criteria were the age at onset of SCD ≥ 60 years old (84.6%, n = 44) and concerns associated with SCD (78.8%, n = 41). The key findings of the neuropsychological assessment are reported in Table 2. Deficits were observed mainly in memory and executive functioning domains. Explorative analysis showed that Cognitive Reserve Scale scores correlated positively with MMSE (rho = 0.311; p = 0.02) and with formal education (rho = 0.541; p<0.001) and negatively with CDR‐sum of boxes (rho = ‐0.307; p = 0.03). The prevalence of APOE ε4 carriers was 29.8% (n = 14) and a dementia family history was more frequent in APOE ε4 carriers ‐ 12 (85.7%) ‐ than non‐carries, 12 (36.4%).ConclusionThe increase in the sample size, especially with individuals with low education, associated with AD biomarkers analysis and long‐term follow‐up may bring valuable information about the progression of SCD to cognitive decline in Brazil. We estimate that a total of 150 individuals will be included by the end of 2023.

AbstractBackgroundSubjective Cognitive Decline (SCD) is conceptualized as cognitive complaints in cognitively unimpaired (CU) individuals and is associated with progressive cognitive decline. Recruiting these individuals can be challenging, especially due to the low education levels and limited access to information by a portion of the Brazilian population.ObjectiveWe aimed to analyze the profile of the screened individuals during the recruitment process in the ongoing Brazilian Subjective Cognitive Decline (BRASCODE) Cohort at the Hospital de Clínicas de Porto Alegre (HCPA), Southern Brazil.MethodsWe analyzed the sociodemographic characteristics of the screened individuals recruited predominantly through social media and newspaper invitation. This study evaluated CU individuals aged 65+ years‐old with cognitive complaints. Exclusion criteria were the presence of uncontrolled psychiatric/clinical illness, cerebrovascular disease, and the use of psychotropic drugs. The recruitment was carried out exclusively by phone calls in two phases. In the first one, the exclusion criteria were applied and, in the second, the following scales were performed: Modified Telephone Interview for Cognitive Status (TICS‐M); Generalized Anxiety Disorder Assessment (GAD‐2); Geriatric Depression Scale; and the Subjective Cognitive Decline Scale.ResultsFrom February to December 2022, 406 individuals were recruited. Most were women (74.6%; n = 303), with a median (SD) age of 71.6 (5.8) years‐old and 11 (5.2) years of formal education. The main reasons for exclusion in phone call 1 were clinical illness (39.9%; n = 59) and cerebrovascular disease (10.1%; n = 15). In those individuals evaluated in the phone call 2 (62.3%; n = 256), most were excluded because presented TICS‐M score below cut‐off (31.6%; n = 80), absence of cognitive complaints (29.6%; n = 75), and GAD‐2 (7%; n = 18) and GDS (3.5%; n = 9) scores above the cut‐off (Figure 1). Only 74 (18.2%) individuals were included in the cohort.ConclusionThe high screening failure seen in our study and the predominance of women with high educational level reveal the difficulty in screening SCD individuals and indicate the need for alternative recruitment methods, especially in a setting with low education.

AbstractBackgroundA recent report estimates Latinos in the U.S. living with Alzheimer’s Disease (AD) could reach as high as 3.5 million by 2060 and are 1.5 times more likely to develop AD than non‐Latino Whites. Consequently, Latino caregivers of people with Alzheimer’s Disease or other related dementias (ADRD) face significant risks to their physical and mental well‐being. Due to the immense increase of ADRD in Latinos, it is important for research to highlight the ways in which caregivers can learn mindfulness based skills to support challenges they may face.MethodU.S. Latina caregivers of people with ADRD (n = 18) were analyzed from the CarePRO‐VS program. CarePRO‐VS is a multicomponent skill‐focused intervention conducted in Spanish that manages stress, tension and frustration associated with caregiving. This pilot project was conducted over ten weeks via telephone and Zoom including: (1) screening to determine eligibility, (2) pre‐ and post‐ intervention assessments conducted within approximately two weeks of the intervention, (3) individual “coach calls” and (4) the five‐week CarePRO‐VS program.ResultBy week five, 60% of caregivers used mindful breathing 3 or more times a day. In comparison to week one, only 18.8% of caregivers used mindful breathing 3 or more times a day. As an example of a frequent user, coach call notes showed that one participant in particular self‐reported use of the relaxing techniques every week with an average of 3‐4 times a day. Mindful breathing helped her destress, stay positive, and focus on the present moment. Body scans helped her bring awareness to how she felt during stressful situations involving her father, the care recipient. She also extended the use of mindful breathing to situations beyond caregiving. At five weeks, she used mindful breathing with her father to ease his anxiety.ConclusionThese Latina caregivers implemented a new strategy that shows promising results and future research can expand on aspects of mindfulness as an equitable and accessible strategy to increase relaxation for caregivers and care recipients. To date, there are few published studies incorporating mindfulness techniques that also included Latino caregivers of people with ADRD in the U.S.

Mobile In many countries, more people have mobile phones than they do fixed-line phones. Mobile phones are one of the fastest growing technologies ever, outstripping even the internet in many respects. With the advent and widespread deployment of digital systems, mobile phones were used by an estimated 1, 158, 254, 300 people worldwide in 2002 (up from approximately 91 million in 1995), 51. 4% of total telephone subscribers (ITU). One of the reasons for this is mobility itself: the ability for people to talk on the phone wherever they are. The communicative possibilities opened up by mobile phones have produced new uses and new discourses (see Katz and Aakhus; Brown, Green, and Harper; and Plant). Contemporary soundscapes now feature not only voice calls in previously quiet public spaces such as buses or restaurants but also the aural irruptions of customised polyphonic ringtones identifying whose phone is ringing by the tune downloaded. The mobile phone plays an important role in contemporary visual and material culture as fashion item and status symbol. Most tragically one might point to the tableau of people in the twin towers of the World Trade Centre, or aboard a plane about to crash, calling their loved ones to say good-bye (Galvin). By contrast, one can look on at the bathos of Australian cricketer Shane Warne’s predilection for pressing his mobile phone into service to arrange wanted and unwanted assignations while on tour. In this article, I wish to consider another important and so far also under-theorised aspect of mobile phones: text. Of contemporary textual and semiotic systems, mobile text is only a recent addition. Yet it is already produces millions of inscriptions each day, and promises to be of far-reaching significance. Txt Txt msg ws an acidnt. no 1 expcted it. Whn the 1st txt msg ws sent, in 1993 by Nokia eng stdnt Riku Pihkonen, the telcom cpnies thought it ws nt important. SMS – Short Message Service – ws nt considrd a majr pt of GSM. Like mny teks, the *pwr* of txt — indeed, the *pwr* of the fon — wz discvrd by users. In the case of txt mssng, the usrs were the yng or poor in the W and E. (Agar 105) As Jon Agar suggests in Constant Touch, textual communication through mobile phone was an after-thought. Mobile phones use radio waves, operating on a cellular system. The first such mobile service went live in Chicago in December 1978, in Sweden in 1981, in January 1985 in the United Kingdom (Agar), and in the mid-1980s in Australia. Mobile cellular systems allowed efficient sharing of scarce spectrum, improvements in handsets and quality, drawing on advances in science and engineering. In the first instance, technology designers, manufacturers, and mobile phone companies had been preoccupied with transferring telephone capabilities and culture to the mobile phone platform. With the growth in data communications from the 1960s onwards, consideration had been given to data capabilities of mobile phone. One difficulty, however, had been the poor quality and slow transfer rates of data communications over mobile networks, especially with first-generation analogue and early second-generation digital mobile phones. As the internet was widely and wildly adopted in the early to mid-1990s, mobile phone proponents looked at mimicking internet and online data services possibilities on their hand-held devices. What could work on a computer screen, it was thought, could be reinvented in miniature for the mobile phone — and hence much money was invested into the wireless access protocol (or WAP), which spectacularly flopped. The future of mobiles as a material support for text culture was not to lie, at first at least, in aping the world-wide web for the phone. It came from an unexpected direction: cheap, simple letters, spelling out short messages with strange new ellipses. SMS was built into the European Global System for Mobile (GSM) standard as an insignificant, additional capability. A number of telecommunications manufacturers thought so little of the SMS as not to not design or even offer the equipment needed (the servers, for instance) for the distribution of the messages. The character sets were limited, the keyboards small, the typeface displays rudimentary, and there was no acknowledgement that messages were actually received by the recipient. Yet SMS was cheap, and it offered one-to-one, or one-to-many, text communications that could be read at leisure, or more often, immediately. SMS was avidly taken up by young people, forming a new culture of media use. Sending a text message offered a relatively cheap and affordable alternative to the still expensive timed calls of voice mobile. In its early beginnings, mobile text can be seen as a subcultural activity. The text culture featured compressed, cryptic messages, with users devising their own abbreviations and grammar. One of the reasons young people took to texting was a tactic of consolidating and shaping their own shared culture, in distinction from the general culture dominated by their parents and other adults. Mobile texting become involved in a wider reworking of youth culture, involving other new media forms and technologies, and cultural developments (Butcher and Thomas). Another subculture that also was in the vanguard of SMS was the Deaf ‘community’. Though the Alexander Graham Bell, celebrated as the inventor of the telephone, very much had his hearing-impaired wife in mind in devising a new form of communication, Deaf people have been systematically left off the telecommunications network since this time. Deaf people pioneered an earlier form of text communications based on the Baudot standard, used for telex communications. Known as teletypewriter (TTY), or telecommunications device for the Deaf (TDD) in the US, this technology allowed Deaf people to communicate with each other by connecting such devices to the phone network. The addition of a relay service (established in Australia in the mid-1990s after much government resistance) allows Deaf people to communicate with hearing people without TTYs (Goggin & Newell). Connecting TTYs to mobile phones have been a vexed issue, however, because the digital phone network in Australia does not allow compatibility. For this reason, and because of other features, Deaf people have become avid users of SMS (Harper). An especially favoured device in Europe has been the Nokia Communicator, with its hinged keyboard. The move from a ‘restricted’, ‘subcultural’ economy to a ‘general’ economy sees mobile texting become incorporated in the semiotic texture and prosaic practices of everyday life. Many users were already familiar with the new conventions already developed around electronic mail, with shorter, crisper messages sent and received — more conversation-like than other correspondence. Unlike phone calls, email is asynchronous. The sender can respond immediately, and the reply will be received with seconds. However, they can also choose to reply at their leisure. Similarly, for the adept user, SMS offers considerable advantages over voice communications, because it makes textual production mobile. Writing and reading can take place wherever a mobile phone can be turned on: in the street, on the train, in the club, in the lecture theatre, in bed. The body writes differently too. Writing with a pen takes a finger and thumb. Typing on a keyboard requires between two and ten fingers. The mobile phone uses the ‘fifth finger’ — the thumb. Always too early, and too late, to speculate on contemporary culture (Morris), it is worth analyzing the textuality of mobile text. Theorists of media, especially television, have insisted on understanding the specific textual modes of different cultural forms. We are familiar with this imperative, and other methods of making visible and decentring structures of text, and the institutions which animate and frame them (whether author or producer; reader or audience; the cultural expectations encoded in genre; the inscriptions in technology). In formal terms, mobile text can be described as involving elision, great compression, and open-endedness. Its channels of communication physically constrain the composition of a very long single text message. Imagine sending James Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake in one text message. How long would it take to key in this exemplar of the disintegration of the cultural form of the novel? How long would it take to read? How would one navigate the text? Imagine sending the Courier-Mail or Financial Review newspaper over a series of text messages? The concept of the ‘news’, with all its cultural baggage, is being reconfigured by mobile text — more along the lines of the older technology of the telegraph, perhaps: a few words suffices to signify what is important. Mobile textuality, then, involves a radical fragmentation and unpredictable seriality of text lexia (Barthes). Sometimes a mobile text looks singular: saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’, or sending your name and ID number to obtain your high school or university results. Yet, like a telephone conversation, or any text perhaps, its structure is always predicated upon, and haunted by, the other. Its imagined reader always has a mobile phone too, little time, no fixed address (except that hailed by the network’s radio transmitter), and a finger poised to respond. Mobile text has structure and channels. Yet, like all text, our reading and writing of it reworks those fixities and makes destabilizes our ‘clear’ communication. After all, mobile textuality has a set of new pre-conditions and fragilities. It introduces new sorts of ‘noise’ to signal problems to annoy those theorists cleaving to the Shannon and Weaver linear model of communication; signals often drop out; there is a network confirmation (and message displayed) that text messages have been sent, but no system guarantee that they have been received. Our friend or service provider might text us back, but how do we know that they got our text message? Commodity We are familiar now with the pleasures of mobile text, the smile of alerting a friend to our arrival, celebrating good news, jilting a lover, making a threat, firing a worker, flirting and picking-up. Text culture has a new vector of mobility, invented by its users, but now coveted and commodified by businesses who did not see it coming in the first place. Nimble in its keystrokes, rich in expressivity and cultural invention, but relatively rudimentary in its technical characteristics, mobile text culture has finally registered in the boardrooms of communications companies. Not only is SMS the preferred medium of mobile phone users to keep in touch with each other, SMS has insinuated itself into previously separate communication industries arenas. In 2002-2003 SMS became firmly established in television broadcasting. Finally, interactive television had arrived after many years of prototyping and being heralded. The keenly awaited back-channel for television arrives courtesy not of cable or satellite television, nor an extra fixed-phone line. It’s the mobile phone, stupid! Big Brother was not only a watershed in reality television, but also in convergent media. Less obvious perhaps than supplementary viewing, or biographies, or chat on Big Brother websites around the world was the use of SMS for voting. SMS is now routinely used by mainstream television channels for viewer feedback, contest entry, and program information. As well as its widespread deployment in broadcasting, mobile text culture has been the language of prosaic, everyday transactions. Slipping into a café at Bronte Beach in Sydney, why not pay your parking meter via SMS? You’ll even receive a warning when your time is up. The mobile is becoming the ‘electronic purse’, with SMS providing its syntax and sentences. The belated ingenuity of those fascinated by the economics of mobile text has also coincided with a technological reworking of its possibilities, with new implications for its semiotic possibilities. Multimedia messaging (MMS) has now been deployed, on capable digital phones (an instance of what has been called 2.5 generation [G] digital phones) and third-generation networks. MMS allows images, video, and audio to be communicated. At one level, this sort of capability can be user-generated, as in the popularity of mobiles that take pictures and send these to other users. Television broadcasters are also interested in the capability to send video clips of favourite programs to viewers. Not content with the revenues raised from millions of standard-priced SMS, and now MMS transactions, commercial participants along the value chain are keenly awaiting the deployment of what is called ‘premium rate’ SMS and MMS services. These services will involve the delivery of desirable content via SMS and MMS, and be priced at a premium. Products and services are likely to include: one-to-one textchat; subscription services (content delivered on handset); multi-party text chat (such as chat rooms); adult entertainment services; multi-part messages (such as text communications plus downloads); download of video or ringtones. In August 2003, one text-chat service charged $4.40 for a pair of SMS. Pwr At the end of 2003, we have scarcely registered the textual practices and systems in mobile text, a culture that sprang up in the interstices of telecommunications. It may be urgent that we do think about the stakes here, as SMS is being extended and commodified. There are obvious and serious policy issues in premium rate SMS and MMS services, and questions concerning the political economy in which these are embedded. Yet there are cultural questions too, with intricate ramifications. How do we understand the effects of mobile textuality, rewriting the telephone book for this new cultural form (Ronell). What are the new genres emerging? And what are the implications for cultural practice and policy? Does it matter, for instance, that new MMS and 3rd generation mobile platforms are not being designed or offered with any-to-any capabilities in mind: allowing any user to upload and send multimedia communications to other any. True, as the example of SMS shows, the inventiveness of users is difficult to foresee and predict, and so new forms of mobile text may have all sorts of relationships with content and communication. However, there are worrying signs of these developing mobile circuits being programmed for narrow channels of retail purchase of cultural products rather than open-source, open-architecture, publicly usable nodes of connection. Works Cited Agar, Jon. Constant Touch: A Global History of the Mobile Phone. Cambridge: Icon, 2003. Barthes, Roland. S/Z. Trans. Richard Miller. New York: Hill & Wang, 1974. Brown, Barry, Green, Nicola, and Harper, Richard, eds. Wireless World: Social, Cultural, and Interactional Aspects of the Mobile Age. London: Springer Verlag, 2001. Butcher, Melissa, and Thomas, Mandy, eds. Ingenious: Emerging youth cultures in urban Australia. Melbourne: Pluto, 2003. Galvin, Michael. ‘September 11 and the Logistics of Communication.’ Continuum: Journal of Media and Cultural Studies 17.3 (2003): 303-13. Goggin, Gerard, and Newell, Christopher. Digital Disability: The Social Construction of Digital in New Media. Lanham, MA: Rowman & Littlefield, 2003. Harper, Phil. ‘Networking the Deaf Nation.’ Australian Journal of Communication 30. 3 (2003), in press. International Telecommunications Union (ITU). ‘Mobile Cellular, subscribers per 100 people.’ World Telecommunication Indicators <http://www.itu.int/ITU-D/ict/statistics/> accessed 13 October 2003. Katz, James E., and Aakhus, Mark, eds. Perpetual Contact: Mobile Communication, Private Talk, Public Performance. Cambridge: Cambridge U P, 2002. Morris, Meaghan. Too Soon, Too Late: History in Popular Culture. Bloomington and Indianapolis: U of Indiana P, 1998. Plant, Sadie. On the Mobile: The Effects of Mobile Telephones on Social and Individual Life. < http://www.motorola.com/mot/documents/0,1028,296,00.pdf> accessed 5 October 2003. Ronell, Avital. The Telephone Book: Technology—schizophrenia—electric speech. Lincoln: U of Nebraska P, 1989. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Goggin, Gerard. "‘mobile text’" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0401/03-goggin.php>. APA Style Goggin, G. (2004, Jan 12). ‘mobile text’. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture, 7, <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0401/03-goggin.php>

Introduction: The major benefits of remote physiologic monitoring (RPM) of blood pressure are usually observed in high-risk patients. Readmissions, return to acute care (RTA), is an undesirable outcome for post-acute care facilities (PACs). Transitions from PACS to ambulatory care have a high risk of RTA. We assessed RPM for hypertension (HTN) patients discharged from PACs. Hypothesis: We hypothesized that PAC discharged patients would benefit from RPM and it would lead to less hypertension during their transition to ambulatory care. Methods: Patients were enrolled in Medicare’s (CMS) RPM program that were being discharged from PACs in Tennessee. HTN RPM began at discharge from PACs. Blood pressure (BP) was measured with cellular-connected devices and a mobile-could application (Alertive, Seattle WA). Data was equally divided into 24-hour windows, classified to JNC8 hypertension classes. Results were reported to PAC and ambulatory clinicians on a monthly basis. Immediate alerts were delivered to physicians for patients with systolic BP > 180 mmHg for timely intervention. Events such as ED visits and hospital readmissions were tracked by the nursing team during their calls per CMS RPM criteria. Patients were telephoned once a month, coached on their BP data, adherence to medications, and upcoming medical visits. Mean comparison of BP data before and after RPM was performed using paired t-test. Results: BP readings from 20 patients (mean age=78.3 ±8.4) were collected between March and May, 2021. A total of 758 readings were analyzed. Twelve hypertensive crises in 6 unique patients were observed. Nine hypotensive instances in 5 patients were observed. Events led to intervention in all unique patients. One patient was hospitalized, and another was referred to the ED for abdominal pain vs 8 patients readmitted in the prior 90 days. Overall, there was a significant decrease in mean systolic BP (144.7 ± 23.1 mmHg at start of RPM vs. 135.2 ± 15.9 mmHg, post RPM; p=0.018) with a mean reduction of 9.5 mmHg at end of the program. Conclusions: After discharge from PAC’s patients monitored by CMS’ RPM achieved a significant reduction in BP. PAC hypotension is an area to evaluate in cardiovascular and renal patients. Future work to demonstrate reduction in RTA is merited.

After balaclava-clad Zapatistas seized control of a handful of southern Mexican towns on New Year’s Eve, 1993, and soon after became implicated in the first wide-scale use of the Internet in a warlike scenario, it was thought that the age of postmodern Internet warfare had arrived. However, while the centrality of the Internet to the movement’s relative success evokes romantic images of Zapatista rebels uploading communiqués onto the World Wide Web from remote mountain hideaways, these myths are dispelled when the impoverished living conditions of its indigenous Maya constituents are taken into account. Instead, the Zapatistas’ presence on the Internet is mediated by NGOs and other support groups who electronically publish hand-written Zapatista communiqués. While this paper demonstrates the political utility of information-age communication strategies for localised struggles for cultural autonomy, it is shown that, for the Zapatistas, these strategies work with, rather than against, traditional print culture. The Zapatistas, NGOs and the Internet Soon after the Zapatista uprising began, the New York Times, prompted by the movement’s rapid acquirement of an Internet presence, declared that the world’s first “postmodern revolutionary movement” had appeared in the unlikely location of the southern Mexican state of Chiapas (Burbach 116). Other analyses that investigate the significance of the Internet in the uprising define the EZLN as the world’s “first informational guerrilla movement” (Castells 79), and the “first social netwar” (Ronfeldt et al. 1). After such descriptions were assigned to the EZLN, an image of Zapatista rebels typing e-mails on laptops in remote mountain hideaways featured in many initial media reports. These ideas were still dominating much of the media a year after the uprising when the Mexican President ordered a raid on suspected EZLN hideouts in an attempt to capture the movement’s mestizo spokesperson, Subcomandante Marcos. Media reports at the time claimed that in some of the raids “they found as many computer disks as bullets”. There were also claims that “if Marcos is equipped with a telephone modem and a cellular phone [he could] hook into the Internet [directly] even while on the run, as he is now” (Knudson 509). However, while the Internet contributed significantly to the advance of the EZLN struggle, this romanticised and mythologised imagery is far removed from the material impoverishment that led to the movement’s uprising and which still characterises the lives of its constituents. Indeed, the Marcos that I saw addressing a crowd in the Mexican city of Puebla during the EZLN’s 2001 March for Indigenous Dignity read his speech from an old-tattered notebook—the old-fashioned printed kind, not one from the Toshiba range. He stumbled over some sections, telling the crowd that it had been smudged by the rain earlier in the day. This may have been a move calculated to enhance the charismatic appeal of the pipe-smoking, poet-guerrilla, but it is also consistent with the impoverished circumstances from which the Zapatistas emanated and within which they continue to struggle. There is a glaring anomaly between descriptions of the Zapatistas as postmodern or as the initiators of informational guerrilla warfare, or netwar, and the movement’s location in the most remote regions of an impoverished state, which has Internet hubs in only two of its towns and “no telephone or electricity at all in most of the rural areas” (Froehling 291). Indeed, the Zapatistas’ relationship with the Internet is mediated via a support network that, most significantly, includes NGOs. For the Zapatista word to reach a national and international audience the movement had to firstly rely on hand-written documents and old-fashioned means of covert communication whereby messages were passed secretly from hand to hand, galloped inside a saddle satchel, hidden in a cyclist’s bag, slipped into a backpack, or perhaps thrust inside a sack of beans, then propped in the back of an open truck, crammed with indigenous villagers who make the hours-long journey to the closest market, or doctor, and our messenger to a contact person with Internet access. (Ponce de León xxiii) The journey of the EZLN’s communiqués from the remote Chiapan highlands to a world-wide audience via its Internet-connected support network has created what Cleaver calls a “Zapatista effect” (1998). This effect demonstrates that by establishing an international electronic web of support, particularly between marginalised groups and NGOs, dominant political, economic and social policies can be effectively opposed and alternatives articulated. The Zapatista uprising marks the first time that the electronic media have been used as a strategy in their own right, producing “an electronic fabric of opposition to much wider policies”, rather than simply facilitating the “traditional work of solidarity” (Cleaver 622). Cleaver claims that this “Zapatista effect” has the potential to permeate and inform social struggles throughout the world and reweave “the fabric of politics” by demonstrating the ability of grassroots movements to form national and international collectives to challenge the power of the nation-state (637). Investigation into the usefulness of new communication technologies in times of war and struggle has also been the focus of studies conducted for the US army, leading to the development of the concept of “netwar” (Ronfeldt et al. iii). Ronfeldt et al. contend that, as a result of what they claim is the increasing dependency of contemporary society on information, “more than ever before, conflicts are about ‘knowledge’—about who knows (or can be kept from knowing) what, when, where, and why” (7-8). The study concludes that the EZLN’s development of an NGO support network that could rapidly disseminate reports on human rights abuses, information about the intolerable living conditions endured by indigenous Chiapans, and the EZLN’s communiqués has been crucial to developing the movement’s support base. However, the movement’s establishment of an electronically wired NGO support network able to circulate information about the EZLN, its struggle and its aims relies on the movement’s ability to convey information to them, the “what, when, where, and why”, before it can appear on the Internet and in other media forms. It is not simply the publication and distribution of figures relating to disease, impoverishment and human rights violations that have contributed to people’s interest in, and support for, the Zapatistas. Rather, the intriguing content and style of their discourse, which is heavily indebted to the charismatic figure of Subcomandante Marcos, has also played a crucial role. The writings of Marcos are rich with poetic imagery, humour, symbols of Mayan mythology and references to Latin American and Spanish literary figures and styles, particularly magic realism. Zapatista Narratives Marcos’ innovative and engaging discursive style is particularly evident in the stories he tells of Don Durito, a beetle named Nebuchadnezzar who has assumed the nom de guerre of Durito, which literally means the little strong or hard one, a reference to his shell, fighting spirit and his status as a ladies’ man (Subcomandante Marcos 9). Don Durito has made the floor of the Southern Mexican Lacandón jungle his home, but in Marcos’s stories he often travels the world as a knight-errant, reminiscent of Cervantes’s delusional do-gooder Don Quijote. Durito also intermittently assumes the role of a detective and that of a political analyst, and it is in this guise that he first meets Marcos. This occurs when Marcos, unable to find tobacco to fill the pipe he is never seen without, notices a trail of the dried black leaves weaving away from his hammock. After following the trail for a few metres Marcos sees, behind a stone, a bespectacled beetle clenching a tiny pipe, sitting at a tiny desk studying, as we soon discover, neoliberalism “and its strategy of domination for Latin America” (Subcomandante Marcos 12). Marcos, unfazed by the discovery of a literate, smoking beetle is taken aback by his investigation of neoliberalism. Durito explains that his scholarly interest is quite pragmatic for it stems from a desire to know how long and how successful the Zapatista struggle will be so as to ascertain “how long us beetles are going to have to be careful that you [Marcos and the other members of the Zapatista army who are based in the jungle] aren’t going to squash us with your big boots” (Subcomandante Marcos 12). In these encounters with Durito the political analyst, Marcos is given lessons in politics and economics from an inhabitant of the jungle floor, from a beetle who recognises that the danger of being squashed by “big boots” in his small patch of land is intimately linked to the global issue of neoliberalism and its much bigger boots. Through these stories, Marcos highlights the detrimental impact that global economic policies have had on the Maya of Chiapas. The character of Durito also enables him to demonstrate the potential for small, seemingly insignificant individuals or groups to radically challenge these policies and articulate alternatives. Conclusion Such entertaining and lyrical prose enables the EZLN to present itself as a new style of social revolutionary movement, far removed from traditional Latin American revolutionary struggles. This has, arguably, broadened the movement’s international support network, a situation facilitated by the circulation and publication of these writings and communiqués on the Internet by the movement’s NGO support network. However, while the use of information-age technology to stimulate the creation of collective transnational support networks presents as a useful strategy for contemporary social struggles, it does not guarantee the procurement of significant political, economic and social change. Indeed, after more than a decade of struggle, the Zapatistas have not precipitated the radical reconstruction of the Mexican political system that they had hoped for. References Burbach, Roger. Globalization and Postmodern Politics: From Zapatistas to High-Tech Robber Barons. London: Pluto Press, 2001. Castells, Manuel. The Information Age: Economy, Society and Culture Volume II: The Power of Identity. Malden, Ma.: Blackwell Publishers, 1997. Cleaver, Harry M. Jr. “The Zapatista Effect: The Internet and the Rise of an Alternative Political Fabric.” Journal of International Affairs 51.2 (1998): 621-40. Froehling, Oliver. “The Cyberspace ‘War of Ink and Internet’ in Chiapas, Mexico.” The Geographical Review 87.2 (1997): 291-307. Knudson, Jerry W. “Rebellion in Chiapas: Insurrection by Internet and Public Relations.” Media, Culture and Society 20.3 (1998): 507-18. Ponce de León, Juana. “Editor’s Note: Travelling Back for Tomorrow.” Our Word Is Our Weapon. Ed. Juana Ponce de León. London: Serpent’s Tail, 2001. xxiii-xxxi. Ronfeldt, David, et al. The Zapatista Social Netwar in Mexico. Santa Monica, California: RAND, 1998. Subcomandante Marcos. Don Durito de La Lacandona. San Cristóbal de Las Casas Chiapas: Centro de Información y Análisis de Chiapas, 1999. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Turner, Bethaney. "Information-Age Guerrillas: The Communication Strategies of the Zapatistas." M/C Journal 8.2 (2005). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0506/01-turner.php>. APA Style Turner, B. (Jun. 2005) "Information-Age Guerrillas: The Communication Strategies of the Zapatistas," M/C Journal, 8(2). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0506/01-turner.php>.

Human history has witnessed varied surveillance and counter-surveillance activities from time immemorial. Human beings could not surveille others effectively and accurately without the technology of their era. Technology is a tool that can empower both people and governments. The outcomes are different based on the users’ intentions and aims. 2,500 years ago, Sun Tzu noted that ‘If you know both yourself and your enemy, you can win numerous (literally, "a hundred") battles without jeopardy’. His words still ring true. To be a good surveiller and counter-surveiller it is essential to know both sides, and in order to be good at these activities access to technology is vital. There is no doubt that knowledge is power, and without technology to access the information, it is impossible to be powerful. As we become more expert at technology, we will learn what makes surveillance and counter-surveillance more effective, and will be more powerful.“Surveillance” is one of the most important aspects of living in the convergent media environment. This essay illustrates government surveillance and counter-surveillance during the Iranian Green Movement (2009) on social and mobile media. The Green Movement refers to a non-violent movement that arose after the disputed presidential election on June 2009. After that Iran was facing its most serious political crisis since the 1979 revolution. Claims of vote fraud triggered massive street protests. Many took to the streets with “Green” signs, chanting slogans such as ‘the government lied’, and ‘where is my vote?’ There is no doubt that social and mobile media has played an important role in Iran’s contemporary politics. According to Internet World Stats (IWS) Internet users in 2009 account for approximately 48.5 per cent of the population of Iran. In 2009, Iran had 30.2 million mobile phone users (Freedom House), and 72 cellular subscriptions for every 100 people (World Bank). Today, while Iran has the 19th-largest population in the world, its blogosphere holds the third spot in terms of number of users, just behind the United States and China (Beth Elson et al.). In this essay the use of social and mobile media (technology) is not debated, but the extent of this use, and who, why and how it is used, is clearly scrutinised.Visibility and Surveillance There have been different kinds of surveillance for a very long time. However, all types of surveillance are based on the notion of “visibility”. Previous studies show that visibility is not a new term (Foucault Discipline). The new things in the new era, are its scale, scope and complicated ways to watch others without being watched, which are not limited to a specific time, space and group, and are completely different from previous instruments for watching (Andrejevic). As Meikle and Young (146) have mentioned ‘networked digital media bring with them a new kind of visibility’, based on different kinds of technology. Internet surveillance has important implications in politics to control, protect, and influence (Marx Ethics; Castells; Fuchs Critique). Surveillance has been improved during its long history, and evolved from very simple spying and watching to complicated methods of “iSpy” (Andrejevic). To understand the importance of visibility and its relationship with surveillance, it is essential to study visibility in conjunction with the notion of “panopticon” and its contradictory functions. Foucault uses Bentham's notion of panopticon that carries within itself visibility and transparency to control others. “Gaze” is a central term in Bentham’s view. ‘Bentham thinks of a visibility organised entirely around a dominating, overseeing gaze’ (Foucault Eye). Moreover, Thomson (Visibility 11) notes that we are living in the age of ‘normalizing the power of the gaze’ and it is clear that the influential gaze is based on powerful means to see others.Lyon (Surveillance 2) explains that ‘surveillance is any collection and processing of personal data, whether identifiable or not, for the purpose of influencing or managing those whose data have been granted…’. He mentions that today the most important means of surveillance reside in computer power which allows collected data to be sorted, matched, retrieved, processed, marketed and circulated.Nowadays, the Internet has become ubiquitous in many parts of the world. So, the changes in people’s interactions have influenced their lives. Fuchs (Introduction 15) argues that ‘information technology enables surveillance at a distance…in real time over networks at high transmission speed’. Therefore, visibility touches different aspects of people’s lives and living in a “glasshouse” has caused a lot of fear and anxiety about privacy.Iran’s Green Movement is one of many cases for studying surveillance and counter-surveillance technologies in social and mobile media. Government Surveillance on Social and Mobile Media in Iran, 2009 In 2009 the Iranian government controlled technology that allowed them to monitor, track, and limit access to the Internet, social media and mobiles communication, which has resulted in the surveillance of Green Movement’s activists. The Iranian government had improved its technical capabilities to monitor the people’s behavior on the Internet long before the 2009 election. The election led to an increase in online surveillance. Using social media the Iranian government became even more powerful than it was before the election. Social media was a significant factor in strengthening the government’s power. In the months after the election the virtual atmosphere became considerably more repressive. The intensified filtering of the Internet and implementation of more advanced surveillance systems strengthened the government’s position after the election. The Open Net Initiative revealed that the Internet censorship system in Iran is one of the most comprehensive and sophisticated censorship systems in the world. It emphasized that ‘Advances in domestic technical capacity have contributed to the implementation of a centralized filtering strategy and a reduced reliance on Western technologies’.On the other hand, the authorities attempted to block all access to political blogs (Jaras), either through cyber-security methods or through threats (Tusa). The Centre for Investigating Organized Cyber Crimes, which was founded in 2007 partly ‘to investigate and confront social and economic offenses on the Internet’ (Cyber Police), became increasingly important over the course of 2009 as the government combated the opposition’s online activities (Beth Elson et al. 16). Training of "senior Internet lieutenants" to confront Iran's "virtual enemies online" was another attempt that the Intelligence minister announced following the protests (Iran Media Program).In 2009 the Iranian government enacted the Computer Crime Law (Jaras). According to this law the Committee in Charge of Determining Unauthorized Websites is legally empowered to identify sites that carry forbidden content and report that information to TCI and other major ISPs for blocking (Freedom House). In the late fall of 2009, the government started sending threatening and warning text messages to protesters about their presence in the protests (BBC). Attacking, blocking, hacking and hijacking of the domain names of some opposition websites such as Jaras and Kaleme besides a number of non-Iranian sites such as Twitter were among the other attempts of the Iranian Cyber Army (Jaras).It is also said that the police and security forces arrested dissidents identified through photos and videos posted on the social media that many imagined had empowered them. Furthermore, the online photos of the active protesters were posted on different websites, asking people to identify them (Valizadeh).In late June 2009 the Iranian government was intentionally permitting Internet traffic to and from social networking sites such as Facebook and Twitter so that it could use a sophisticated practice called Deep Packet Inspection (DPI) to collect information about users. It was reportedly also applying the same technology to monitor mobile phone communications (Beth Elson et al. 15).On the other hand, to cut communication between Iranians inside and outside the country, Iran slowed down the Internet dramatically (Jaras). Iran also blocked access to Facebook, YouTube, Wikipedia, Twitter and many blogs before, during and after the protests. Moreover, in 2009, text message services were shut down for over 40 days, and mobile phone subscribers could not send or receive text messages regardless of their mobile carriers. Subsequently it was disrupted on a temporary basis immediately before and during key protests days.It was later discovered that the Nokia Siemens Network provided the government with surveillance technologies (Wagner; Iran Media Program). The Iranian government built a complicated system that enabled it to monitor, track and intercept what was said on mobile phones. Nokia Siemens Network confirmed it supplied Iran with the technology needed to monitor, control, and read local telephone calls [...] The product allowed authorities to monitor any communications across a network, including voice calls, text messaging, instant messages, and web traffic (Cellan-Jones). Media sources also reported that two Chinese companies, Huawei and ZTE, provided surveillance technologies to the government. The Nic Payamak and Saman Payamak websites, that provide mass text messaging services, also reported that operator Hamrah Aval commonly blocked texts with words such as meeting, location, rally, gathering, election and parliament (Iran Media Program). Visibility and Counter-Surveillance The panopticon is not limited to the watchers. Similarly, new kinds of panopticon and visibility are not confined to government surveillance. Foucault points out that ‘the seeing machine was once a sort of dark room into which individuals spied; it has become a transparent building in which the exercise of power may be supervised by society as a whole’ (Discipline 207). What is important is Foucault's recognition that transparency, not only of those who are being observed but also of those who are observing, is central to the notion of the panopticon (Allen) and ‘any member of society will have the right to come and see with his own eyes how schools, hospitals, factories, and prisons function’ (Foucault, Discipline 207). Counter-surveillance is the process of detecting and mitigating hostile surveillance (Burton). Therefore, while the Internet is a surveillance instrument that enables governments to watch people, it also improves the capacity to counter-surveille, and draws public attention to governments’ injustice. As Castells (185) notes the Internet could be used by citizens to watch their government as an instrument of control, information, participation, and even decision-making, from the bottom up.With regards to the role of citizens in counter-surveillance we can draw on Jay Rosen’s view of Internet users as ‘the people formerly known as the audience’. In counter-surveillance it can be said that passive citizens (formerly the audience) have turned into active citizens. And this change was becoming impossible without mobile and social media platforms. These new techniques and technologies have empowered people and given them the opportunity to have new identities. When Thompson wrote ‘the exercise of power in modern societies remains in many ways shrouded in secrecy and hidden from the public gaze’ (Media 125), perhaps he could not imagine that one day people can gaze at the politicians, security forces and the police through the use of the Internet and mobile devices.Furthermore, while access to mobile media allows people to hold authorities accountable for their uses and abuses of power (Breen 183), social media can be used as a means of representation, organization of collective action, mobilization, and drawing attention to police brutality and reasons for political action (Gerbaudo).There is no doubt that having creativity and using alternative platforms are important aspects in counter-surveillance. For example, images of Lt. Pike “Pepper Spray Cop” from the University of California became the symbol of the senselessness of police brutality during the Occupy Movement (Shaw). Iranians’ Counter-Surveillance on Social and Mobile Media, 2009 Iran’s Green movement (2009) triggered a lot of discussions about the role of technology in social movements. In this regard, there are two notable attitudes about the role of technology: techno-optimistic (Shriky and Castells) and techno-pessimistic (Morozov and Gladwell) views should be taken into account. While techno-optimists overrated the role of social media, techno-pessimists underestimated its role. However, there is no doubt that technology has played a great role as a counter-surveillance tool amongst Iranian people in Iran’s contemporary politics.Apart from the academic discussions between techno-optimists and techno-pessimists, there have been numerous debates about the role of new technologies in Iran during the Green Movement. This subject has received interest from different corners of the world, including Western countries, Iranian authorities, opposition groups, and also some NGOs. However, its role as a means of counter-surveillance has not received adequate attention.As the tools of counter-surveillance are more or less the tools of surveillance, protesters learned from the government to use the same techniques to challenge authority on social media.Establishing new websites (such as JARAS, RASA, Kalemeh, and Iran green voice) or strengthening some previous ones (such as Saham, Emrooz, Norooz), also activating different platforms such as Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube accounts to broadcast the voice of the Iranian Green Movement and neutralize the government’s propaganda were the most important ways to empower supporters of Iran’s Green Movement in counter-surveillance.‘Reporters Without Borders issued a statement, saying that ‘the new media, and particularly social networks, have given populations collaborative tools with which they can change the social order’. It is also mentioned that despite efforts by the Iranian government to prevent any reporting of the protests and due to considerable pressure placed on foreign journalists inside Iran, social media played a significant role in sending the messages and images of the movement to the outside world (Axworthy). However, at that moment, many thought that Twitter performed a liberating role for Iranian dissenters. For example, Western media heralded the Green Movement in Iran as a “Twitter revolution” fuelled by information and communication technologies (ICTs) and social media tools (Carrieri et al. 4). “The Revolution Will Be Twittered” was the first in a series of blog posts published by Andrew Sullivan a few hours after the news of the protests was released.According to the researcher’s observation the numbers of Twitter users inside Iran who tweeted was very limited in 2009 and social media was most useful in the dissemination of information, especially from those inside Iran to outsiders. Mobile phones were mostly influential as an instrument firstly used for producing contents (images and videos) and secondly for the organisation of protests. There were many photos and videos that were filmed by very simple mobile cell phones, uploaded by ordinary people onto YouTube and other platforms. The links were shared many times on Twitter and Facebook and released by mainstream media. The most frequently circulated story from the Iranian protests was a video of Neda Agha-Sultan. Her final moments were captured by some bystanders with mobile phone cameras and rapidly spread across the global media and the Internet. It showed that the camera-phone had provided citizens with a powerful means, allowing for the creation and instant sharing of persuasive personalised eyewitness records with mobile and globalised target populations (Anden-Papadopoulos).Protesters used another technique, DDOS (distributed denial of service attacks), for political protest in cyber space. Anonymous people used DDOS to overload a website with fake requests, making it unavailable for users and disrupting the sites set as targets (McMillan) in effect, shutting down the site. DDOS is an important counter-surveillance activity by grassroots activists or hackers. It was a cyber protest that knocked the main Iranian governmental websites off-line and caused crowdsourcing and false trafficking. Amongst them were Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Iran's supreme leader’s websites and those which belong to or are close to the government or security forces, including news agencies (Fars, IRNA, Press TV…), the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of Justice, the Police, and the Ministry of the Interior.Moreover, as authorities uploaded the pictures of protesters onto different platforms to find and arrest them, in some cities people started to put the pictures, phone numbers and addresses of members of security forces and plain clothes police officers who attacked them during the protests and asked people to identify and report the others. They also wanted people to send information about suspects who infringed human rights. Conclusion To sum up, visibility, surveillance and counter-surveillance are not new phenomena. What is new is the technology, which increased their complexity. As Foucault (Discipline 200) mentioned ‘visibility is a trap’, so being visible would be the weakness of those who are being surveilled in the power struggle. In the convergent era, in order to be more powerful, both surveillance and counter-surveillance activities aim for more visibility. Although both attempt to use the same means (technology) to trap the other side, the differences are in their subjects, objects, goals and results.While in surveillance, visibility of the many by the few is mostly for the purpose of control and influence in undemocratic ways, in counter-surveillance, the visibility of the few by the many is mostly through democratic ways to secure more accountability and transparency from the governments.As mentioned in the case of Iran’s Green Movement, the scale and scope of visibility are different in surveillance and counter-surveillance. The importance of what Shaw wrote about Sydney occupy counter-surveillance, applies to other places, such as Iran. She has stressed that ‘protesters and police engaged in a dance of technology and surveillance with one another. Both had access to technology, but there were uncertainties about the extent of technology and its proficient use…’In Iran (2009), both sides (government and activists) used technology and benefited from digital networked platforms, but their levels of access and domains of influence were different, which was because the sources of power, information and wealth were divided asymmetrically between them. Creativity was important for both sides to make others more visible, and make themselves invisible. Also, sharing information to make the other side visible played an important role in these two areas. References Alen, David. “The Trouble with Transparency: The Challenge of Doing Journalism Ethics in a Surveillance Society.” Journalism Studies 9.3 (2008): 323-40. 8 Dec. 2013 ‹http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/14616700801997224#.UqRFSuIZsqN›. 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The mobile phone found its way to the Philippines when the first generation of Global Systems for Mobile Communication or GSM handsets was introduced in the country in 1994. This GSM protocol eventually developed to introduce a faster and more efficient means of storing, manipulating, and transmitting data by allowing data to be translated into a series of ones and zeroes. Digital technology furthered the mobile phone’s potentials from being a mere “talking device on the move” (Leung and Wei 316) to a more dynamic participant in the new information age. The capacity to merge all forms of binary data enabled mobile phones to allow convergent services such as chatting, voice-mail, news updates, e-mailing, Internet browsing, and even the dissemination of image and audio files. Apart from the allure of the possibilities of digital communication, the mobile phone was also welcomed in the Philippines because of its convenience; it provided the country, especially the rural areas where telephones are unavailable or inaccessible, with a modern means of communication. A survey conducted by the Social Weather Station (SWS) in 2001 reveals the extent of the dissemination of this technology in the Philippines: “Out of the 15 million households in the Philippines, an estimated 2.5 million have a cellular phone, of which 2.3 million have text-messaging capacity. For the entire nation, text-messaging is available to 15% of all households in general, but it is available to 53% of ABC households in particular. Of the 2.3 million text-capable households in the nation, 800 thousand are in Metro Manila.” Of the 80 million Filipinos, there are now 22 million mobile phone owners in the country compared to only 6.7 million subscribed landlines (Lallana 1). Of the various digital applications of the mobile phone, text messaging is still considered to be the most exploited service in the Philippines. A voice call placed through the mobile phone would typically cost around six to seven pesos per minute while a text message costs a peso per message. Corollary, a typical Filipino now sends an average of ten messages every day, contributing to a daily traffic of over 300 million text messages (Pertierra 58). This has led to the popular notion of the Philippines as the “texting capital of the world” (Pertierra et al. 88). In Text-ing Selves, a study that examines the use of mobile phones in the country, Pertierra and other researchers argue that texting has made it possible to create new unsurveilled and unconventional human relationships. In one case cited in the book, for example, a male and a female texter met after an accidental exchange of text messages. Although initially they were very reserved and guarded, familiarity between the two was fostered greatly because the medium allowed for an anonymous and uncommitted communication. Eventually, they met and shortly after that, got engaged. A second instance involved a person who exchanged phone numbers with his friends to pursue strangers and win new friends by texting. He engaged in virtual or text-based “affairs” with women, which would later on result to actual physical sex. Another case examined was that of an 18-year old bisexual who met “textmates” by participating in interactive Text TV chatrooms. Although he eventually met up with individuals to have sex, he professed to use the Text TV mainly to create these virtual relationships with persons of the same sex. (Pertierra et al. 64-89) It is because of the considerable popularity of the medium and the possible repercussions of such curious relationships and interpersonal communication patterns that the phenomenon of mobile phone use, particularly that of texting, in the Philippines is worthy of systematic scrutiny. Thus, the purpose of this study is to examine the relational context being created through this wireless messaging system. An exploratory study, this research examines the contributions of the texting technology that allowed development of romantic relationships among its users. Ultimately, this paper aims to identify what makes texting a novel romantic device in the Philippines. The framework in the understanding of relationship development through texting incorporates Malcolm Parks’ theory of relationship life cycle and network (352). In his proposal, interpersonal relationships of all types are usually conceptualized as developing from the impersonal to the personal along a series of relatively specific dimensions: increases in interdependence, in the variety and intimacy of interaction, in interpersonal predictability and understanding, in the change toward more personalized ways of communicating and coordinating, in commitment, and in the convergence of the participants’ social networks. According to Parks (359-68), relationships move within the constructive character of communication that involves the interaction of the structure and content of communication between the participants. Thus, the researcher would like to identify the relationship between these seven factors of relationship development and the texting technology. This research identified the attributes of the texting technology along the seven dimensions of Park’s theory of relational development. Qualitative data was obtained and explored in the light of the concepts presented in the related literature, particularly the theoretical discourses of Paul Levinson and Raul Pertierra et al. A total of 43 respondents, 21 males and 22 females, were selected through purposive sampling to derive exploratory data through the in-depth interview method. Texting and Interdependence Unwritten Rule of Texting Respondents revealed that their relationships developed with their respective partners because texting made them more dependent on each other. “It became a habit” (Emmy). Partners texted each other as often as they could, until they have established themselves as regular textmates. One respondent’s day would also be influenced by his partner’s text message: “Kapag hindi siya nakakapagtext, nami-miss ko siya (If she doesn’t text, I miss her). Her simple ‘good morning’s’ can really help me start my day right.” At this level of the relationship, texters always had the compulsion to keep the communication constantly moving. One respondent attributed this to the “unwritten rule of texting.” Clara elaborated: You know there’s this unwritten rule in texing: once a person has texted you, you have to reply. If you don’t reply, the person will automatically think you ignored him or her on purpose. So you have to reply no matter what. Even when you really have nothing to say, you’re forced to come up with something or give your opinion just to keep the conversation going. Immediacy and Accessibility Some respondents exhibited interdependence by “reporting” or informing each other of the happenings in their individual lives. Arnel shared: Ang ilang pinakanatulong sa amin ng texting ay to inform each other kung saan na kami at kung anong pinagkakaabalahan namin at a specific time, especially kung hindi kami magkasama. (One of the greatest aid of texting in our relationship is that it enables us to inform each other about where we are and what we are doing at a specific time, especially if we are not together). He also added that texting allows them to organize their schedules as well as to logistically set meeting times or inform the other of one’s tardiness. Texting also allowed for the individuals in the relationship to influence each other’s thoughts, behaviors, and actions. “Kapag nagkukuwento siya kung anong nangyari sa kaniya tapos tingin ko mali, pinagsasabihan ko siya (If she tells me stories about what happened to her and then I see that there’s something wrong with it, I admonish her)” (Jesus). Jack summarized how the texting technology facilitated these indicators of interdependence between romantic partners: There’s a feeling of security that having a cellphone gives to a certain person, because you know that, more often than not, you can and will be reached by anyone, anywhere, anytime, and vice versa. So when I need comfort, or someone to listen, or I need to vent, or I need my boyfriend’s opinion, or I need his help in making a decision, it’s really relieving to know that he’s just a text or phone call away. These responses from the participants in a texting romantic relationship confirm Paul Levinson’s arguments of the mobile phone’s feature of accessibility. In the book Cellphone: The Story of the World’s Most Mobile Medium and How it has Transformed Everything! he mentions that the mobile phone technology, particularly texting, permits users to make instant, immediate and direct delivery of messages. He further explains that texting can be a romancing tool because before there was the mobile phone, people placing call through the telephone had to make sure that the persons they are asking out on a date are at home when the phone rings (Levinson 97). Texting and Depth: Privacy and Levinson’s Silence Texting also facilitated an efficient exchange of a variety of important, intimate, and personal topics and feelings for most of the respondents. A number of respondents even confessed that they could go as intimate as exchanging sexual messages with their partners. One respondent revealed that he could text his partner anything “kahit nga text sex pwede rin eh (even ‘sex text’ is allowed).” But mostly, the text exchanges consisted of intimate romantic feelings that one could not manage to say in person. Richard shared: “For example, through text we can say ‘I love you’ to each other. Aside from that, nasasabi ko rin yung mga problems na hindi ko masabi ng harapan (I could tell her about my problems that I could not say face-to-face).” Arnel, a homosexual, attributed this ease of transmitting intimate and personal topics and feelings to the texting technology’s unique feature of privacy. “Kasi wari bang nakakalikha ng pribadong espasyo yung screen ng phone mo na kahit na magkalayo kayo” (Because the mobile phone screen is able to create a private space that even if you are far from each other) physically, the virtual space created by that technology is apparent. Because no one can hear you say those things or no one else can read [them], assuming na hindi pinabasa sa ibang tao o hindi nakita (that it is not allowed to be read or seen by others) (Arnel). Arnel’s discussion of the private space that allows for intimate exchanges links up with Paul Levinson’s silence as one of the biggest benefit of the texting technology. Texting permits receivers to view their messages in private as opposed to having others in the environment hear and know about their particular communication or simply even just the fact that they are communicating (Levinson 112-14). Anonymity RJ would associate this capability to swap intimate information between partners to texting’s provision for anonymity. In texting, there is the element of anonymity, thus, you can feel more comfortable with sharing more intimate messages. As opposed to a face-to-face conversation wherein you would tend to hold back some feelings or thoughts because of fear of outright rejection. Personally, I consider that factor as a very important element in the development of our relationship. Because I am not really the aggressive-frank type of guy, I tend to hold back in telling her intimate things face to face. The feature of anonymity that the respondents mentioned seems to refer to one characteristic that Pertierra, et al. (91) outlined in their book. They wrote that communication through texting has also efficiently incorporated meaning, intention, and expressions allowing texters to say what is normally unsayable in face-to-face contexts. This clearly points to the comfort that the respondents identified when they’d share about intimate details like their exes and other information that a typical “non-aggressive-frank guy, who fears outright rejection,” would. Autonomy Perhaps an additional feature that might be closely related to privacy and anonymity is the autonomous nature of the texting technology. Homosexuals like Jetrin took advantage of this feature to facilitate unconventional same-sex affairs: “Unlike pagers, mobile phones are not monitored, therefore I can pretty much say what I want to the other person. I get to express myself more clearly and intimate[ly]”. Because of this absence of censorship, texters can confidently say “’I love you’ or ‘I want to throw you against the wall and make you feel like a cheap whore’ (Jetrin)” without having to concern themselves about a third-party processing their messages. Texting and Breadth Expressing Real and Virtual Emotions Because of these various constraints, respondents started to locate other avenues to communicate with their partners. Thus, the breadth of the relationship increased. Other means of communication that the respondents mentioned are face-to-face encounters, voice phone calls (either landline or mobile phone), e-mail, chat (YM, ICQ, Web cam, etc.), and even snail mail. However way they decided to extend their communication beyond texting, almost all of them declared that it is still texting that instigated this movement to another medium. One respondent said “Of course text ang taga-initiate (initiates) and then more ways [follow] after.” Although texting employs a dualistic nature of beneficial anonymity and uncertainty between exchanging partners, a number of respondents still express optimism about the texting technology’s capacity to bridge the gap between expressing real and virtual emotions. Some claimed that “even [in] text [there is] personality; smiling face, exclamation points, feelings are still communicated.” RG also expressed that “yung mga smileys nakakatulong sa pag-express ng emotions (smileys help in expressing emotions).” Jake added that “qualities like the smiley faces and sad faces you can make using the punctuation marks, etc. can really add warmth and depth to text messages.” Texting and Commitment Regularity Since most of the couples in a romantic relationship did not have the luxury of time to meet up in person or talk over the phone regularly, the frequency of texting became a distinct indication about their commitment to their relationships. “To commit is to be there for the person, 24/7. Texting helps in achieving that despite of the barriers in time and distance” (Von). Didith showed the other end of this phenomenon: “When he texted less and less in the course of the relationship, it made me doubt about … his commitment.” This regularity of texting also provided for strengthening the bond and connection between partners that ultimately “As we share more and more of our lives with each other, more trust develops…and the more trust you instill in each other, the more you expect the relationship to be stronger and more lasting” (Jack). Convenience and Affordability Some respondents pointed out texting’s convenient nature of linking partners who are rather separated by physical and geographical limits. Richard used texting to contact his partner “kasi malayo kami sa isa’t-isa, lalo na kapag umuuwi siya sa Bulacan. Texting ang pinakamadali, cheapest, and convenient way para makapag-communicate kami (because we are far from each other, especially if she goes home to Bulacan. Texting is the fastest, cheapest, and convenient way for us to communicate).” This “presence” that strengthens the commitment between partners, as suggested by most of the respondents, indicates the capacity of the mobile phone to transform into an extension of the human body and connect partners intimately. Texting, Predictability and Understanding Redundancy Some of the respondents agreed that it is the regularity of texting that enabled them to become more capable of understanding and predicting their partner’s feelings and behaviors. Tina articulated this: “Probably due to redundancy, one can predict how the other will react to certain statements.” Jake also expressed the same suggestion: Texting in our relationship has become a routine, actually. Texting has become like talking for us. And the more we text/talk, the more we get to know each other. Nagiging sanay na kami sa ugali at pag-iisip ng isa’t-isa (We become used to each other’s attitudes and thinking). So it’s inevitable for us to be able to predict one another’s reactions and thoughts to certain topics. Because we get to a point wherein we feel like we know each other so well, that when we are able to correctly predict a feeling or behavior, we find it amusing. In the end, the regularity of the interaction brought about learning. “I’ve learned much of her from texting. I knew that she becomes disappointed with certain things or she really appreciates it when I do certain things. It became easier for me to learn about her thoughts, feelings, etc.” (RJ) Managing of Contextual Cues A lot of the respondents mentioned that their understanding and predictability of their partners was also heightened by the context of the construction of the messages that were being transmitted. “If there are smiley faces, then we’re okay. No cute expressions mean we’re in a serious mode” (Didith). “Either an added word, a missing word, or a word out of place in the message gives me the clue” (Jake). The textual structure and signs became instrumental into the translation of how to perceive another’s feelings or reactions. “For example, pag normal, sweet words yung nasa text, may mga ‘I love you,’ mga ganon. Pero kung galit siya, may iba. Minsan ‘Oo’ lang yung sagot. Kaya mas nakikilala ko pa siya through text (For example, on a normal circumstance, her text would contain sweet words like ‘I love you.’ But if she’s mad, it’s different. At times, she would just reply with a mere ‘yes.’ That’s why I get to know her more through text)” (Richard). Texting and Communicative Change Own Private World Texting allowed respondents to create special languages that they used to interact with their own partners. It is an inherent characteristic of texting that limits messages up to 360 characters only, and it becomes almost a requirement to really adapt a rather abbreviated way of writing when one has to send a message. In this study however, it was found that the languages that respondents created were not the usual languages that the general public would use or understand in texting – it even went beyond the usual use of the popular smileys. Respondents revealed that they created codes that only they and their respective partners understood in their “own private world” (Jackie, Emma). “How I text him is different from how I text other people so I don’t think other people would understand what I’m telling him, and why the manner is so if they read our messages” (Anika). Leana shared an example: My partner and I have created special nicknames and shortcuts that only the two of us know and understand. Kunyari (For example), we have our own way of saying ‘I love you’ or ‘I miss you.’ To send a kiss… we use a set of characters different from the usual. Basta secret na namin ‘yon (It is our secret). Fun Majority of the respondents identified communicative code change as the most exciting and fun part in texting. “It is one of the best things about relating with someone through texting. It is one of the most fun things to do” (Mario). And the amusement that this interaction caused was not only limited in the virtual environment and the textual context. “It is one of the fun things about our texting and it even carries over when we are together personally” (Justin). “Since words are what we have, we play with them and try to be creative. Para masaya, exciting (So that it is fun and exciting)” (Charm). Incidentally, this sense of fun and excitement is also one of the attributes that Pertierra and his co-authors mentioned in their book Txt-ing Selves (Pertierra et al. 140): “Many see texting as an opportunity for fun.” Texting and Network Convergence Texting also made network convergence possible among partners, and their respective social circles, in a romantic relationship. Because the respondents engaged in non-stop texting, their friends and family started to notice their change in behavior. “People become curious… They want to know the person I text with every minute of every day… I guess people can tell when a person’s in love, even when it has only developed through texting” (Clara). Jake shared a very likely scenario: “If you get text messages when you’re with your friends/family and you laugh at the message you receive, or just react to whatever you receive, you’d have to make kwento (tell) who you’re texting to make sense of your reactions.” Others though, readily announced their relationships to everyone: “I’ll text my friends first na ‘Uy, may bago ako.’ (I will text my friends first that: ‘Hey, I have a new girlfriend.’)” (Richard). But sometimes, texters also introduced their partners to people outside their friends and family circles. “Sometimes, it even goes beyond personal. Example, if my ‘new partner’ who has never met any of my friends and family need help with something (business, academic, etc.) then I introduce him to someone from my circle who can be of help to him” (Jetrin). Network convergence could also take place through and within the medium itself. Respondents revealed that their family and friends actually interact with each other through texting without necessarily having the opportunity to meet in person. Pauline shared: “Ate (My older sister)… used to send text messages to him before to ask where I am. And my mom stole his number from my phone ‘just in case’.” Didith and her boyfriend also experienced having their friends involved in the dynamics of their relationship: “During our first major quarrel, he texted and called my friend to ask what I was mad about. Likewise, when we have a minor spat, I call his friend to vent or ask about him.” Conclusion This study establishes the texting technology’s capacity as a romancing gadget. As the interview participants pointed out, because of the technology’s capacity to allow users to create their own world capable of expressing real and virtual emotions, and managing contextual cues, texters were able to increase their dependence and understanding of one another. It also allowed for partners to exchange more personal and intimate information through an instant and private delivery of messages. The facilitation of communicative change made their relationship more exciting and that the texting medium itself became the message of commitment to their relationship. Finally, texting also led the partners to introduce one another to their families and friends either through the texting environment or face-to-face. Ultimately, texting became their means to achieving intimacy and romance. Texting offered a modern communication medium for carrying out traditional gender roles in pursuing romance for the heterosexual majority of the respondents. However, the messaging tool also empowered the homosexuals and bisexuals involved in the study. The highly private and autonomous textual environment enabled them to explore new and unorthodox romantic and even sexual relations. Moreover, texting may be considered as a venue for “technological foreplay” (Nadarajan). Almost all of those who have used texting to sustain their intimacy indicated the choice to expand to other modes of communication. Although relationships set in a purely virtual environment actually exist, the findings that these relationships rarely stay virtual point to the idea that the virtual setting of texting becomes simply just another place where partners get to exercise their romance for each other, only to be further “consummated” perhaps by a face-to-face contact. Data gathering for this research revealed a noteworthy number of respondents who engage in a purely virtual textual relationship. A further investigation of this occurrence will be able to highlight the capacity of texting as a relationship gadget. Long distance relationships sustained by this technology also provide a good ground for the exploration of the text messaging’s potentials as communication tool. References Lallana, Emmanuel. SMS, Business, and Government in the Philippines. Manila: Department of Science and Technology, 2004. Leung, Louis, and Ran Wei. “More than Just Talk on the Move: Uses and Gratifications of the Cellular Phone.” Journalism and Mass Communication Quarterly 77 (2000): 308-320. Levinson, Paul. Cellphone: The Story of the World’s Most Mobile Medium and How It Has Transformed Everything! New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004. Mangahas, Malou. “For the Little History of EDSA-2.” Social Weather Station 26 Jan. 2001. 31 Jan. 2005 http://www.sws.org.ph/>. Nadarajan, Gunalan. Personal communication with the author. 2004. Parks, Malcolm. “Communication Networks and Relationship Life Cycles.” Handbook of Personal Relationships: Theory, Research, and Interventions. 2nd ed. Ed. Steve Duck. London: John Wiley, 1997. 351-72. Pertierra, Raul. Transforming Technologies: Altered Selves – Mobile Phone and Internet Use in the Philippines. Manila: De La Salle UP, 2006. Pertierra, Raul, et al. Text-ing Selves: Cellphones and Philippine Modernity. Manila: De La Salle UP, 2002. Solis, Randy Jay. “Mobile Romance: An Exploration of the Development of Romantic Relationships through Texting.” Asia Culture Forum, Gwangju, South Korea: 29 Oct. 2006. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Solis, Randy Jay C. "Texting Love: An Exploration of Text Messaging as a Medium for Romance in the Philippines." M/C Journal 10.1 (2007). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0703/05-solis.php>. APA Style Solis, R. (Mar. 2007) "Texting Love: An Exploration of Text Messaging as a Medium for Romance in the Philippines," M/C Journal, 10(1). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0703/05-solis.php>.

By the time you read this, it will be wrong. Things seemed to be moving so fast in these first days after airplanes crashed into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the Pennsylvania earth. Each certainty is as carelessly dropped as it was once carelessly assumed. The sounds of lower Manhattan that used to serve as white noise for residents—sirens, screeches, screams—are no longer signs without a referent. Instead, they make folks stare and stop, hurry and hustle, wondering whether the noises we know so well are in fact, this time, coefficients of a new reality. At the time of writing, the events themselves are also signs without referents—there has been no direct claim of responsibility, and little proof offered by accusers since the 11th. But it has been assumed that there is a link to US foreign policy, its military and economic presence in the Arab world, and opposition to it that seeks revenge. In the intervening weeks the US media and the war planners have supplied their own narrow frameworks, making New York’s “ground zero” into the starting point for a new escalation of global violence. We want to write here about the combination of sources and sensations that came that day, and the jumble of knowledges and emotions that filled our minds. Working late the night before, Toby was awoken in the morning by one of the planes right overhead. That happens sometimes. I have long expected a crash when I’ve heard the roar of jet engines so close—but I didn’t this time. Often when that sound hits me, I get up and go for a run down by the water, just near Wall Street. Something kept me back that day. Instead, I headed for my laptop. Because I cannot rely on local media to tell me very much about the role of the US in world affairs, I was reading the British newspaper The Guardian on-line when it flashed a two-line report about the planes. I looked up at the calendar above my desk to see whether it was April 1st. Truly. Then I got off-line and turned on the TV to watch CNN. That second, the phone rang. My quasi-ex-girlfriend I’m still in love with called from the mid-West. She was due to leave that day for the Bay Area. Was I alright? We spoke for a bit. She said my cell phone was out, and indeed it was for the remainder of the day. As I hung up from her, my friend Ana rang, tearful and concerned. Her husband, Patrick, had left an hour before for work in New Jersey, and it seemed like a dangerous separation. All separations were potentially fatal that day. You wanted to know where everyone was, every minute. She told me she had been trying to contact Palestinian friends who worked and attended school near the event—their ethnic, religious, and national backgrounds made for real poignancy, as we both thought of the prejudice they would (probably) face, regardless of the eventual who/what/when/where/how of these events. We agreed to meet at Bruno’s, a bakery on La Guardia Place. For some reason I really took my time, though, before getting to Ana. I shampooed and shaved under the shower. This was a horror, and I needed to look my best, even as men and women were losing and risking their lives. I can only interpret what I did as an attempt to impose normalcy and control on the situation, on my environment. When I finally made it down there, she’d located our friends. They were safe. We stood in the street and watched the Towers. Horrified by the sight of human beings tumbling to their deaths, we turned to buy a tea/coffee—again some ludicrous normalization—but were drawn back by chilling screams from the street. Racing outside, we saw the second Tower collapse, and clutched at each other. People were streaming towards us from further downtown. We decided to be with our Palestinian friends in their apartment. When we arrived, we learnt that Mark had been four minutes away from the WTC when the first plane hit. I tried to call my daughter in London and my father in Canberra, but to no avail. I rang the mid-West, and asked my maybe-former novia to call England and Australia to report in on me. Our friend Jenine got through to relatives on the West Bank. Israeli tanks had commenced a bombardment there, right after the planes had struck New York. Family members spoke to her from under the kitchen table, where they were taking refuge from the shelling of their house. Then we gave ourselves over to television, like so many others around the world, even though these events were happening only a mile away. We wanted to hear official word, but there was just a huge absence—Bush was busy learning to read in Florida, then leading from the front in Louisiana and Nebraska. As the day wore on, we split up and regrouped, meeting folks. One guy was in the subway when smoke filled the car. Noone could breathe properly, people were screaming, and his only thought was for his dog DeNiro back in Brooklyn. From the panic of the train, he managed to call his mom on a cell to ask her to feed “DeNiro” that night, because it looked like he wouldn’t get home. A pregnant woman feared for her unborn as she fled the blasts, pushing the stroller with her baby in it as she did so. Away from these heart-rending tales from strangers, there was the fear: good grief, what horrible price would the US Government extract for this, and who would be the overt and covert agents and targets of that suffering? What blood-lust would this generate? What would be the pattern of retaliation and counter-retaliation? What would become of civil rights and cultural inclusiveness? So a jumble of emotions came forward, I assume in all of us. Anger was not there for me, just intense sorrow, shock, and fear, and the desire for intimacy. Network television appeared to offer me that, but in an ultimately unsatisfactory way. For I think I saw the end-result of reality TV that day. I have since decided to call this ‘emotionalization’—network TV’s tendency to substitute analysis of US politics and economics with a stress on feelings. Of course, powerful emotions have been engaged by this horror, and there is value in addressing that fact and letting out the pain. I certainly needed to do so. But on that day and subsequent ones, I looked to the networks, traditional sources of current-affairs knowledge, for just that—informed, multi-perspectival journalism that would allow me to make sense of my feelings, and come to a just and reasoned decision about how the US should respond. I waited in vain. No such commentary came forward. Just a lot of asinine inquiries from reporters that were identical to those they pose to basketballers after a game: Question—‘How do you feel now?’ Answer—‘God was with me today.’ For the networks were insistent on asking everyone in sight how they felt about the end of las torres gemelas. In this case, we heard the feelings of survivors, firefighters, viewers, media mavens, Republican and Democrat hacks, and vacuous Beltway state-of-the-nation pundits. But learning of the military-political economy, global inequality, and ideologies and organizations that made for our grief and loss—for that, there was no space. TV had forgotten how to do it. My principal feeling soon became one of frustration. So I headed back to where I began the day—The Guardian web site, where I was given insightful analysis of the messy factors of history, religion, economics, and politics that had created this situation. As I dealt with the tragedy of folks whose lives had been so cruelly lost, I pondered what it would take for this to stop. Or whether this was just the beginning. I knew one thing—the answers wouldn’t come from mainstream US television, no matter how full of feelings it was. And that made Toby anxious. And afraid. He still is. And so the dreams come. In one, I am suddenly furloughed from my job with an orchestra, as audience numbers tumble. I make my evening-wear way to my locker along with the other players, emptying it of bubble gum and instrument. The next night, I see a gigantic, fifty-feet high wave heading for the city beach where I’ve come to swim. Somehow I am sheltered behind a huge wall, as all the people around me die. Dripping, I turn to find myself in a media-stereotype “crack house” of the early ’90s—desperate-looking black men, endless doorways, sudden police arrival, and my earnest search for a passport that will explain away my presence. I awake in horror, to the realization that the passport was already open and stamped—racialization at work for Toby, every day and in every way, as a white man in New York City. Ana’s husband, Patrick, was at work ten miles from Manhattan when “it” happened. In the hallway, I overheard some talk about two planes crashing, but went to teach anyway in my usual morning stupor. This was just the usual chatter of disaster junkies. I didn’t hear the words, “World Trade Center” until ten thirty, at the end of the class at the college I teach at in New Jersey, across the Hudson river. A friend and colleague walked in and told me the news of the attack, to which I replied “You must be fucking joking.” He was a little offended. Students were milling haphazardly on the campus in the late summer weather, some looking panicked like me. My first thought was of some general failure of the air-traffic control system. There must be planes falling out of the sky all over the country. Then the height of the towers: how far towards our apartment in Greenwich Village would the towers fall? Neither of us worked in the financial district a mile downtown, but was Ana safe? Where on the college campus could I see what was happening? I recognized the same physical sensation I had felt the morning after Hurricane Andrew in Miami seeing at a distance the wreckage of our shattered apartment across a suburban golf course strewn with debris and flattened power lines. Now I was trapped in the suburbs again at an unbridgeable distance from my wife and friends who were witnessing the attacks first hand. Were they safe? What on earth was going on? This feeling of being cut off, my path to the familiar places of home blocked, remained for weeks my dominant experience of the disaster. In my office, phone calls to the city didn’t work. There were six voice-mail messages from my teenaged brother Alex in small-town England giving a running commentary on the attack and its aftermath that he was witnessing live on television while I dutifully taught my writing class. “Hello, Patrick, where are you? Oh my god, another plane just hit the towers. Where are you?” The web was choked: no access to newspapers online. Email worked, but no one was wasting time writing. My office window looked out over a soccer field to the still woodlands of western New Jersey: behind me to the east the disaster must be unfolding. Finally I found a website with a live stream from ABC television, which I watched flickering and stilted on the tiny screen. It had all already happened: both towers already collapsed, the Pentagon attacked, another plane shot down over Pennsylvania, unconfirmed reports said, there were other hijacked aircraft still out there unaccounted for. Manhattan was sealed off. George Washington Bridge, Lincoln and Holland tunnels, all the bridges and tunnels from New Jersey I used to mock shut down. Police actions sealed off the highways into “the city.” The city I liked to think of as the capital of the world was cut off completely from the outside, suddenly vulnerable and under siege. There was no way to get home. The phone rang abruptly and Alex, three thousand miles away, told me he had spoken to Ana earlier and she was safe. After a dozen tries, I managed to get through and spoke to her, learning that she and Toby had seen people jumping and then the second tower fall. Other friends had been even closer. Everyone was safe, we thought. I sat for another couple of hours in my office uselessly. The news was incoherent, stories contradictory, loops of the planes hitting the towers only just ready for recycling. The attacks were already being transformed into “the World Trade Center Disaster,” not yet the ahistorical singularity of the emergency “nine one one.” Stranded, I had to spend the night in New Jersey at my boss’s house, reminded again of the boundless generosity of Americans to relative strangers. In an effort to protect his young son from the as yet unfiltered images saturating cable and Internet, my friend’s TV set was turned off and we did our best to reassure. We listened surreptitiously to news bulletins on AM radio, hoping that the roads would open. Walking the dog with my friend’s wife and son we crossed a park on the ridge on which Upper Montclair sits. Ten miles away a huge column of smoke was rising from lower Manhattan, where the stunning absence of the towers was clearly visible. The summer evening was unnervingly still. We kicked a soccer ball around on the front lawn and a woman walked distracted by, shocked and pale up the tree-lined suburban street, suffering her own wordless trauma. I remembered that though most of my students were ordinary working people, Montclair is a well-off dormitory for the financial sector and high rises of Wall Street and Midtown. For the time being, this was a white-collar disaster. I slept a short night in my friend’s house, waking to hope I had dreamed it all, and took the commuter train in with shell-shocked bankers and corporate types. All men, all looking nervously across the river toward glimpses of the Manhattan skyline as the train neared Hoboken. “I can’t believe they’re making us go in,” one guy had repeated on the station platform. He had watched the attacks from his office in Midtown, “The whole thing.” Inside the train we all sat in silence. Up from the PATH train station on 9th street I came onto a carless 6th Avenue. At 14th street barricades now sealed off downtown from the rest of the world. I walked down the middle of the avenue to a newspaper stand; the Indian proprietor shrugged “No deliveries below 14th.” I had not realized that the closer to the disaster you came, the less information would be available. Except, I assumed, for the evidence of my senses. But at 8 am the Village was eerily still, few people about, nothing in the sky, including the twin towers. I walked to Houston Street, which was full of trucks and police vehicles. Tractor trailers sat carrying concrete barriers. Below Houston, each street into Soho was barricaded and manned by huddles of cops. I had walked effortlessly up into the “lockdown,” but this was the “frozen zone.” There was no going further south towards the towers. I walked the few blocks home, found my wife sleeping, and climbed into bed, still in my clothes from the day before. “Your heart is racing,” she said. I realized that I hadn’t known if I would get back, and now I never wanted to leave again; it was still only eight thirty am. Lying there, I felt the terrible wonder of a distant bystander for the first-hand witness. Ana’s face couldn’t tell me what she had seen. I felt I needed to know more, to see and understand. Even though I knew the effort was useless: I could never bridge that gap that had trapped me ten miles away, my back turned to the unfolding disaster. The television was useless: we don’t have cable, and the mast on top of the North Tower, which Ana had watched fall, had relayed all the network channels. I knew I had to go down and see the wreckage. Later I would realize how lucky I had been not to suffer from “disaster envy.” Unbelievably, in retrospect, I commuted into work the second day after the attack, dogged by the same unnerving sensation that I would not get back—to the wounded, humbled former center of the world. My students were uneasy, all talked out. I was a novelty, a New Yorker living in the Village a mile from the towers, but I was forty-eight hours late. Out of place in both places. I felt torn up, but not angry. Back in the city at night, people were eating and drinking with a vengeance, the air filled with acrid sicklysweet smoke from the burning wreckage. Eyes stang and nose ran with a bitter acrid taste. Who knows what we’re breathing in, we joked nervously. A friend’s wife had fallen out with him for refusing to wear a protective mask in the house. He shrugged a wordlessly reassuring smile. What could any of us do? I walked with Ana down to the top of West Broadway from where the towers had commanded the skyline over SoHo; downtown dense smoke blocked the view to the disaster. A crowd of onlookers pushed up against the barricades all day, some weeping, others gawping. A tall guy was filming the grieving faces with a video camera, which was somehow the worst thing of all, the first sign of the disaster tourism that was already mushrooming downtown. Across the street an Asian artist sat painting the street scene in streaky black and white; he had scrubbed out two white columns where the towers would have been. “That’s the first thing I’ve seen that’s made me feel any better,” Ana said. We thanked him, but he shrugged blankly, still in shock I supposed. On the Friday, the clampdown. I watched the Mayor and Police Chief hold a press conference in which they angrily told the stream of volunteers to “ground zero” that they weren’t needed. “We can handle this ourselves. We thank you. But we don’t need your help,” Commissioner Kerik said. After the free-for-all of the first couple of days, with its amazing spontaneities and common gestures of goodwill, the clampdown was going into effect. I decided to go down to Canal Street and see if it was true that no one was welcome anymore. So many paths through the city were blocked now. “Lock down, frozen zone, war zone, the site, combat zone, ground zero, state troopers, secured perimeter, national guard, humvees, family center”: a disturbing new vocabulary that seemed to stamp the logic of Giuliani’s sanitized and over-policed Manhattan onto the wounded hulk of the city. The Mayor had been magnificent in the heat of the crisis; Churchillian, many were saying—and indeed, Giuliani quickly appeared on the cover of Cigar Afficionado, complete with wing collar and the misquotation from Kipling, “Captain Courageous.” Churchill had not believed in peacetime politics either, and he never got over losing his empire. Now the regime of command and control over New York’s citizens and its economy was being stabilized and reimposed. The sealed-off, disfigured, and newly militarized spaces of the New York through which I have always loved to wander at all hours seemed to have been put beyond reach for the duration. And, in the new post-“9/11” post-history, the duration could last forever. The violence of the attacks seemed to have elicited a heavy-handed official reaction that sought to contain and constrict the best qualities of New York. I felt more anger at the clampdown than I did at the demolition of the towers. I knew this was unreasonable, but I feared the reaction, the spread of the racial harassment and racial profiling that I had already heard of from my students in New Jersey. This militarizing of the urban landscape seemed to negate the sprawling, freewheeling, boundless largesse and tolerance on which New York had complacently claimed a monopoly. For many the towers stood for that as well, not just as the monumental outposts of global finance that had been attacked. Could the American flag mean something different? For a few days, perhaps—on the helmets of firemen and construction workers. But not for long. On the Saturday, I found an unmanned barricade way east along Canal Street and rode my bike past throngs of Chinatown residents, by the Federal jail block where prisoners from the first World Trade Center bombing were still being held. I headed south and west towards Tribeca; below the barricades in the frozen zone, you could roam freely, the cops and soldiers assuming you belonged there. I felt uneasy, doubting my own motives for being there, feeling the blood drain from my head in the same numbing shock I’d felt every time I headed downtown towards the site. I looped towards Greenwich Avenue, passing an abandoned bank full of emergency supplies and boxes of protective masks. Crushed cars still smeared with pulverized concrete and encrusted with paperwork strewn by the blast sat on the street near the disabled telephone exchange. On one side of the avenue stood a horde of onlookers, on the other television crews, all looking two blocks south towards a colossal pile of twisted and smoking steel, seven stories high. We were told to stay off the street by long-suffering national guardsmen and women with southern accents, kids. Nothing happening, just the aftermath. The TV crews were interviewing worn-out, dust-covered volunteers and firemen who sat quietly leaning against the railings of a park filled with scraps of paper. Out on the West Side highway, a high-tech truck was offering free cellular phone calls. The six lanes by the river were full of construction machinery and military vehicles. Ambulances rolled slowly uptown, bodies inside? I locked my bike redundantly to a lamppost and crossed under the hostile gaze of plainclothes police to another media encampment. On the path by the river, two camera crews were complaining bitterly in the heat. “After five days of this I’ve had enough.” They weren’t talking about the trauma, bodies, or the wreckage, but censorship. “Any blue light special gets to roll right down there, but they see your press pass and it’s get outta here. I’ve had enough.” I fronted out the surly cops and ducked under the tape onto the path, walking onto a Pier on which we’d spent many lazy afternoons watching the river at sunset. Dust everywhere, police boats docked and waiting, a crane ominously dredging mud into a barge. I walked back past the camera operators onto the highway and walked up to an interview in process. Perfectly composed, a fire chief and his crew from some small town in upstate New York were politely declining to give details about what they’d seen at “ground zero.” The men’s faces were dust streaked, their eyes slightly dazed with the shock of a horror previously unimaginable to most Americans. They were here to help the best they could, now they’d done as much as anyone could. “It’s time for us to go home.” The chief was eloquent, almost rehearsed in his precision. It was like a Magnum press photo. But he was refusing to cooperate with the media’s obsessive emotionalism. I walked down the highway, joining construction workers, volunteers, police, and firemen in their hundreds at Chambers Street. No one paid me any attention; it was absurd. I joined several other watchers on the stairs by Stuyvesant High School, which was now the headquarters for the recovery crews. Just two or three blocks away, the huge jagged teeth of the towers’ beautiful tracery lurched out onto the highway above huge mounds of debris. The TV images of the shattered scene made sense as I placed them into what was left of a familiar Sunday afternoon geography of bike rides and walks by the river, picnics in the park lying on the grass and gazing up at the infinite solidity of the towers. Demolished. It was breathtaking. If “they” could do that, they could do anything. Across the street at tables military policeman were checking credentials of the milling volunteers and issuing the pink and orange tags that gave access to ground zero. Without warning, there was a sudden stampede running full pelt up from the disaster site, men and women in fatigues, burly construction workers, firemen in bunker gear. I ran a few yards then stopped. Other people milled around idly, ignoring the panic, smoking and talking in low voices. It was a mainly white, blue-collar scene. All these men wearing flags and carrying crowbars and flashlights. In their company, the intolerance and rage I associated with flags and construction sites was nowhere to be seen. They were dealing with a torn and twisted otherness that dwarfed machismo or bigotry. I talked to a moustachioed, pony-tailed construction worker who’d hitched a ride from the mid-west to “come and help out.” He was staying at the Y, he said, it was kind of rough. “Have you been down there?” he asked, pointing towards the wreckage. “You’re British, you weren’t in World War Two were you?” I replied in the negative. “It’s worse ’n that. I went down last night and you can’t imagine it. You don’t want to see it if you don’t have to.” Did I know any welcoming ladies? he asked. The Y was kind of tough. When I saw TV images of President Bush speaking to the recovery crews and steelworkers at “ground zero” a couple of days later, shouting through a bullhorn to chants of “USA, USA” I knew nothing had changed. New York’s suffering was subject to a second hijacking by the brokers of national unity. New York had never been America, and now its terrible human loss and its great humanity were redesignated in the name of the nation, of the coming war. The signs without a referent were being forcibly appropriated, locked into an impoverished patriotic framework, interpreted for “us” by a compliant media and an opportunistic regime eager to reign in civil liberties, to unloose its war machine and tighten its grip on the Muslim world. That day, drawn to the river again, I had watched F18 fighter jets flying patterns over Manhattan as Bush’s helicopters came in across the river. Otherwise empty of air traffic, “our” skies were being torn up by the military jets: it was somehow the worst sight yet, worse than the wreckage or the bands of disaster tourists on Canal Street, a sign of further violence yet to come. There was a carrier out there beyond New York harbor, there to protect us: the bruising, blustering city once open to all comers. That felt worst of all. In the intervening weeks, we have seen other, more unstable ways of interpreting the signs of September 11 and its aftermath. Many have circulated on the Internet, past the blockages and blockades placed on urban spaces and intellectual life. Karl-Heinz Stockhausen’s work was banished (at least temporarily) from the canon of avant-garde electronic music when he described the attack on las torres gemelas as akin to a work of art. If Jacques Derrida had described it as an act of deconstruction (turning technological modernity literally in on itself), or Jean Baudrillard had announced that the event was so thick with mediation it had not truly taken place, something similar would have happened to them (and still may). This is because, as Don DeLillo so eloquently put it in implicit reaction to the plaintive cry “Why do they hate us?”: “it is the power of American culture to penetrate every wall, home, life and mind”—whether via military action or cultural iconography. All these positions are correct, however grisly and annoying they may be. What GK Chesterton called the “flints and tiles” of nineteenth-century European urban existence were rent asunder like so many victims of high-altitude US bombing raids. As a First-World disaster, it became knowable as the first-ever US “ground zero” such precisely through the high premium immediately set on the lives of Manhattan residents and the rarefied discussion of how to commemorate the high-altitude towers. When, a few weeks later, an American Airlines plane crashed on take-off from Queens, that borough was left open to all comers. Manhattan was locked down, flown over by “friendly” bombers. In stark contrast to the open if desperate faces on the street of 11 September, people went about their business with heads bowed even lower than is customary. Contradictory deconstructions and valuations of Manhattan lives mean that September 11 will live in infamy and hyper-knowability. The vengeful United States government and population continue on their way. Local residents must ponder insurance claims, real-estate values, children’s terrors, and their own roles in something beyond their ken. New York had been forced beyond being the center of the financial world. It had become a military target, a place that was receiving as well as dispatching the slings and arrows of global fortune. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Deer, Patrick and Miller, Toby. "A Day That Will Live In … ?" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5.1 (2002). [your date of access] < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0203/adaythat.php>. Chicago Style Deer, Patrick and Miller, Toby, "A Day That Will Live In … ?" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5, no. 1 (2002), < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0203/adaythat.php> ([your date of access]). APA Style Deer, Patrick and Miller, Toby. (2002) A Day That Will Live In … ?. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5(1). < http://www.media-culture.org.au/0203/adaythat.php> ([your date of access]).