Добірка наукової літератури з теми "Anti-Franco press"

Abstract This article uses the periodical press, memoirs and archival sources to examine the Conservative thought of Douglas Jerrold and Charles Petrie at the New English Review between 1945 and 1950. It seeks to argue that while there was more continuity than rupture in their political thought, they were able to make a transition from interwar authoritarianism and ‘fascism’ to postwar anti-communism and democracy. There were similarities between their political Catholicism and Christian democracy, but ultimately their ‘real Toryism’ and continued sympathy for Franco prevented them from fully aligning themselves with British and west European Christian democrats.

As a professor of French Studies, I had often wished to develop a course in which students could mount a play in French. Its pedagogical value seemed obvious: performing in a foreign language and managing a theatrical production could help students increase their knowledge of French society while improving pronunciation and vocabulary. However, my lack of expertise in the theory and practice of theater stymied me. I had also often longed to teach a course about the Dreyfus affair. The story of a French officer falsely convicted of selling military secrets to the Germans, which tore apart French society for a decade, it contains plenteous teachable issues about France: nationalism, anti-Semitism, the birth of intellectuals, treason and raison d'état, the rise of the modern press and public opinion, the separation of church and state, Third Republic politics, military justice, Franco-German rivalries, and even handwriting analysis. But I doubted that a French department would welcome a whole course just on the Dreyfus affair.

FR. A la veille de la Grande Guerre la boxe anglaise a pris, dans les sociétés anglo-saxonnes (États-Unis, Grande-Bretagne et Australie) et depuis peu en France, une dimension sociale et culturelle d’importance. Dans l’Hexagone alors qu’elle était au tournant du XIXème siècle une mise en scène illégale et inconnue du grand public, elle a connu en 10 ans une fulgurante ascension. Aussi, En 1914, elle est devenue sport roi non seulement à Paris mais également en province. Ce que l’on peut appeler « la Belle Époque de la boxe anglaise en France » est marqué par une corrélation entre les succès de cette pratique et l’avènement de la première superstar du sport tricolore : le boxeur Georges Carpentier. Né en 1894 à Liévin, dans les bassins miniers du Pas-de-Calais, le « gosse » embrasse la carrière de pugiliste à l’âge de 14 ans. Entre 1908 et 1914, au rythme de nombreuses et surprenantes victoires, sa popularité ne cesse de croître. Elle atteint son apogée dans les deux années précédant la guerre, particulièrement lors de probants triomphes face à la fine fleur pugilistique britannique. A l’occasion de matchs mobilisant les ressorts du nationalisme anti-anglais, ces affrontements poursuivent la longue inimitié historique entre la France et la « perfide Albion », tout en nourrissant et amplifiant la célébrité du jeune prodige. A l’aube du culte des vedettes et dans une métaphore évidente de la guerre, la presse franco-britannique n’hésite pas à l’élever au rang de « vengeur de Waterloo ». Puis, contre toute attente, à quelques mois de l’embrasement de la vieille Europe, augurant du nouveau jeu d’alliance militaire qui se dessine dans les salons de la diplomatie franco-anglaise, il devient dans ces mêmes journaux le « champion de l’Entente Cordiale ». *** EN. In the years preceding the Great War, English boxing occupied an important social and cultural role in Anglo-Saxon societies (United States, Great Britain and Australia) and came to gradually occupy a similar position in France. At the turn of the 19th century, it was still an illegal and obscure show to French audiences. However, in the course of the following decade, it was propelled to higher grounds: by 1914, it had become the king of sports, both in Paris and in the provinces. The “Belle Époque of English boxing in France" is characterized by the correlation between the success of the sport and the rise of the first French boxing superstar, Georges Carpentier. Born in 1894 in Liévin, in the coal mining basins of the Pas-de-Calais, the “kid” embraces the career of pugilist at the age of 14. Between 1908 and 1914, his popularity was on a constant rise thanks to numerous and surprising victories. His popularity climaxes in the two years preceding the war, largely thanks to multiple victories against the British pugilistic elite. Mobilizing nationalism fueled by anti-English sentiments, these boxing matches are presented as a natural extension of the long historical enmity between France and the "perfidious Albion", contributing to grow and amplify the young prodigy’s fame. At the dawn of celebrity worship, and in an obvious metaphor of the war, the Franco-British press did not hesitate to adorn him as the "Waterloo avenger". Then, against all odds, a few months before the dislocation of old Europe, the same newspapers transformed him into the "champion” of the Entente Cordiale, implicitly pulling in behind the new military alliances taking shape in the halls of Franco-British diplomacy. *** PT. Às vésperas da Grande Guerra, o boxe inglês assume uma dimensão sociocultural central nas sociedades anglo-saxônicas (Estados Unidos, Grã-Bretanha e Austrália). Isso ocorre também na França, onde, até a virada do século XIX, não passava de uma encenação ilegal desconhecida do público em geral. 10 anos depois, experimenta uma ascensão meteórica, tornando-se, em 1914, o rei dos esportes em Paris, mas também nas demais cidades francesas. O período da Belle Époque do boxe inglês na França é marcado por uma convergência entre o sucesso do boxe e o advento da primeira superestrela do esporte francês: o boxeador Georges Carpentier. Nascido em 1894 em Liévin, nas bacias mineiras do Pas-de-Calais, o “moleque”, como era chamado, abraçou a carreira de pugilista aos 14 anos de idade. Entre 1908 e 1914, tendo já acumulado diversas vitórias surpreendentes, sua popularidade não para de crescer, atingindo seu auge nos dois anos que precederam a guerra, com vitórias arrasadoras contra a nata do pugilismo britânico. Essas partidas, cenário de incitação ao nacionalismo antiinglês, passaram simultaneamente a consolidar a longa inimizade histórica entre a França e o “pérfido Albion” e a fama do jovem prodígio. Nos primórdios do culto às estrelas do esporte, a imprensa franco-britânica, lançando mão de uma óbvia metáfora bélica, eleva Carpentier ao ranking de “vingador de Waterloo”. Poucos meses antes do estremecimento da velha Europa, contrariando todas as expectativas e prefigurando o novo jogo de alianças militares que se perfilava nos salões da diplomacia franco-britânica, Georges Carpentier torna-se, nas colunas desses mesmos jornais, o “campeão da Entente Cordiale”. ***

This article traces the Chinese characters presented as the anti-Western threat in Spanish culture, namely the Yellow Peril discourse, which has not received adequate attention from the academia. Since the 19th-century, Chinese characterization in Spain has taken place as an especial cultural phenomenon, in which the connotation of “peril” first emerged from a press representation from France and England. After a period of inner circulation of stereotypes, it is revived by the irruption of Anglo-American popular culture, in the form of a well-defined Fu Manchu in the first half of the 20th century. The authors examine two films directed by Jesús Franco: The Blood of Fu Manchu and The Castle of Fu Manchu, co-produced by European production companies and shot partly in Spain. In the whole process, the “peril” associated with Chinese characterization maintains both its “vicarious” and “referential” representation. Thus, Jess Franco’s cinematographic version of Fu Manchu anticipates the postmodern pastiche and turns Fu Manchu into an entire “empty” cultural entity. The article aims theoretically to differentiate “media culture”, which is a fertile terrain of both stereotypes and its extreme form, pastiche, from other types of high culture and popular culture. In the case of Chinese characterization in Spanish culture, media and a culture shaped by media can be considered as the producers of the Chinese peril phenomena.

Abstract Metastatic triple negative breast cancer (TNBC) includes poor prognoses and limited effective therapies. Metastasis is the major barrier to durable clinical responses as many patients appear cured of their disease, yet return to clinic with recurrences from dormant micro-metastases. Immune activating agents, such as Interleukin 12 (IL-12) have attracted attention as anti-cancer adjuvants due to their ability to elicit systemic anti-cancer immunity. Although targeting distributed metastases can be accomplished by intravenous (IV) administration, administration of IL-12 into patient vasculature is highly inefficient due to its short half-life and poor toxicity profile. There is a major unmet need to develop biocompatible carriers that improve targeted delivery of IL-12 by specifically homing to metastatic lesions. Mesenchymal stem cells (MSCs) are considered ideal biodelivery vehicles as they display innate tumor-trophism and can deliver biomolecules specifically to systemic metastases. However, major issues need to be addressed before MSCs can be used to deliver IL-12 to patients: MSC tumor homing needs to be improved, and unmodified MSCs can engraft and contribute to tumor growth and metastasis, raising legitimate safety concerns. To address these major limitations, our laboratory developed a MSC-derived biodelivery vehicle with enhanced homing abilities to deliver biomolecules directly to tumors. Our approach involved using scRNA-seq to identify chemoattractant receptor/ligand pairs (CXCR4/CXCL12, CCR2/CCL2) and endothelial adhesion molecules (PSGL-1/P-E-Selectins) that mediate leukocyte homing and extravasation. We then lentivirally expressed these receptors in MSCs and removed nuclei using Ficoll gradient ultracentrifugation. These bioengineered enucleated MSCs (termed Cargocytes™) have a defined lifespan (4 days) and robustly home to TNBC. This is an important breakthrough as TNBC-trophic Cargocytes can be scaled for clinical applications and are safe for in vivo use as described in our recent publication (Nature Biomedical Engineering, in press). By using syngeneic mouse models of metastatic TNBC, we have observed IV-injected Cargocytes robustly extravasate and precisely home to metastatic lung nodules, suggesting Cargocytes act as remarkable biodelivery vehicles. Indeed, the tumor-trophism of Cargocytes includes both integrating into large macro-metastases and homing to broadly distributed micro-metastases. Cargocytes effectively produce and deliver high doses of IL-12 to mouse TNBC, which induces strong immune activation in tumors. This immune activation involved a potent anti-metastatic response, evidencing strong therapeutic efficacy. These findings suggest Cargocyte-delivered IL-12 could constitute a safe, potent, and highly specific anti-metastatic therapy for TNBC and other metastatic cancers sharing similar chemoattractant profiles. Citation Format: Jeffrey White, Huawei Wang, Flavia Franco Da Cunha, Maureen Ruchhoeft, Richard Klemke. Bioengineering enucleated cell vehicles for targeted delivery of Interleukin 12 to metastatic tumors [abstract]. In: Proceedings of the American Association for Cancer Research Annual Meeting 2022; 2022 Apr 8-13. Philadelphia (PA): AACR; Cancer Res 2022;82(12_Suppl):Abstract nr 3519.

Abstract Metastatic triple negative breast cancer (TNBC) includes poor prognoses and limited effective therapies. The prevalence of systemic micro-metastases is a major barrier to achieving durable clinical outcomes. Oncolytic viruses (OVs) have garnered attention as anti-cancer adjuvants due to their potential for systemic delivery and ability to lyse tumor cells while leaving healthy cells unaffected. Clinical trials have been conducted testing the efficacy of OVs on diverse cancers. Although targeting distributed metastases can be accomplished by intravenous (IV) administration, administration of virus into patient vasculature is inefficient due to the clearance of unprotected viruses by host immunity. There is a major unmet need to develop biocompatible carriers that improve delivery of OVs by circumventing host anti-viral immunity while homing to metastatic lesions. Mesenchymal stem cells (MSCs) are ideal OV carriers as they display innate tumor-trophic properties, propagate OVs, and shield virions from immunity until reaching their target. However, issues need to be addressed before MSCs can deliver OVs to patients: tumor homing needs improved and unmodified MSCs can engraft and contribute to tumor growth and metastasis, raising safety concerns. To address these limitations, our laboratory developed a MSC-derived biodelivery vehicle with enhanced homing abilities to deliver biologics, such as OVs, directly to tumors. Our approach involved using scRNA-seq to identify chemoattractant receptor/ligand pairs (CXCR4/CXCL12, CCR2/CCL2) and endothelial adhesion molecules (PSGL-1/P-E-Selectins) that mediate leukocyte tumor homing and extravasation. We then lentivirally expressed these receptors in MSCs and removed all DNA using ultracentrifugation and Ficoll density gradients. These bioengineered enucleated MSCs (Cargocytes™) have a defined lifespan (4 days) and robustly home to TNBC. This is an important breakthrough as TNBC-trophic Cargocytes can be scaled for clinical applications and are safe for in vivo use as described in our recent publication (Nature Biomedical Engineering, in press). OVs replicate in and lyse interferon-deficient tumor cells while having negligible effects on healthy cells. As the interferon response is absent in enucleated cells, Cargocytes support robust replication of OVs, including oncolytic Herpes Simplex Virus, Measles Virus, and Vesicular Stomatitis Virus (oVSV), allowing IV delivery of high titer OVs to tumors. In in vivo mouse models of metastatic TNBC, carrier-free oVSV fails to infect lung metastases. However, Cargocytes efficiently deliver oVSV to distributed micro-metastases and integrate deep into macro-metastases, evidencing a remarkable improvement in tissue distribution over intra-tumoral injections. Our findings suggest Cargocytes host and target oVSV directly to TNBC, constituting a highly specific OV delivery vehicle. Citation Format: Jeffrey White, Huawei Wang, Flavia Franco Da Cunha, Maureen Ruchhoeft, Richard Klemke. Bioengineering enucleated cell vehicles for tumor targeted intravenous delivery of oncolytic viruses [abstract]. In: Proceedings of the American Association for Cancer Research Annual Meeting 2022; 2022 Apr 8-13. Philadelphia (PA): AACR; Cancer Res 2022;82(12_Suppl):Abstract nr 378.

Abstract: The paper aims to analyse how self-translation fits into the discourse of translingual writing in German-language literature produced since the second half of the 20th century. The paper shows that the phenomenon can be conceived in different ways, along a continuum ranging from more ‘literal’ understandings to metaphorical extensions of the term. The complexity of self-translation will be examined through the example of the following authors: Carmine Abate, Franco Biondi, Zwetelina Damjanova, Sabine Eschgfäller, Gerhard Kofler, Pavel Kohout, Yüksel Pazarkaya, Barbara Pumhösel, Milan Ráček, Yoko Tawada and Vladimir Vertlib. Ennast tõlkivad autorid saksakeelses nüüdiskirjanduses Käesolevas artiklis vaatlen enesetõlget saksakeelses nüüdiskirjanduses kui üht konkreetset aspekti kirjanduslikus keeleülesuses, mida on defineeritud kui „kirjanike fenomeni, kes loovad tekste rohkem kui ühes keeles või muus keeles kui nende esimene keel“ (Kellmann 2019, 337). sajandi viimastel kümnenditel on germanistikas üha enam keskendutud saksakeelsetele autorite loomingule, kelle esimene keel ei ole saksa keel. Saksa keelt kõnelevates riikides on asutatud kirjandusauhindu nimelt selliseid autoreid silmas pidades; neist tähelepanuväärseimad on Adelbert-von-Chamisso-Preis (anti välja aastatel 1985–2017) Saksamaal ja auhind „Schreiben zwischen den kulturen“ (asutatud 1997) Austrias, mis näitab, et keeleülene kirjandus on pakkunud suurt huvi nii teadlastele kui ka saksakeelse kirjanduse lugejatele ning kirjandusturule. Nende auhindade võitjate ja teiste saksakeelset nüüdiskirjandust loovate keeleüleste kirjanike loomingut uurides selgub, et enesetõlkimine on korduv aspekt, mida esineb eri kujudel ja taustadel, millest kõige ilmsem on see, kui autorid tõlgivad oma tekste teise keelde. Mis puutub enesetõlkesse, siis 21. sajandil on seda nähtust üha enam analüüsitud, mis on tulemuseks andnud rea publikatsioone, mida süstemaatiliselt loetleb Eva Gentesi toimetatud teos „Bibliography of Self-Translation“ („Enesetõlke bibliograafia“). Olemasolev teadustöö enesetõlkimise vallas koosneb arvukatest üksikuurimustest, millest enamik tegelevad kuulsaimate nüüdisaegsete enesetõlkijatega, eriti Vladimir Nabokovi ja Samuel Beckettiga (vt ülevaadet Gentes 2016). Postkoloniaalsete uuringute kontekstis on üha enam uurimusi pühendatud Aafrika ja Lõuna-Ameerika autoritele (Weigel 2019), teoreetilises diskursuses on rõhutatud hübriidsust (hübriidkultuurid, hübriidkeeled ja hübriididentiteedid), eriti kirjanduse, migratsiooni ja mitmekeelsuse vahelises seoses (Falceri, Gentes ja Manterola 2017). Selle tulemusena on üha enam rõhutama hakatud „enesetõlke“ „ennast“ – see tähendab seda, kuidas enesetõlkija tekstis avaldub. Neid lähtekohti arvesse võttes analüüsitakse artiklis, kuidas enesetõlge sobitub 20. sajandi teisel poolel saksakeelse kirjanduse väljal loodud keeleülese kirjutamise diskursusesse. Esimeses osas antakse ülevaade peamistest välja pakutud enesetõlke definitsioonidest, näidates, millised on selle nähtuse võimalikud eesmärgid keeleüleses kirjanduses. Enesetõlke definitsioon ei ole sugugi selge, mis esmalt tuleneb tõigast, et seda ei saa üheselt ja selgepiiriliselt liigitada ei tõlkeuuringute ega kirjandusteaduse valdkonda kuuluvaks. Käesolevas artiklis rakendatav perspektiiv sarnaneb rohkem teise lähenemisega, sest võimaldab avardada enesetõlke tähendust, hõlmamaks selle avaramat mõistmist. Analüüsitakse teisigi tõlgendusi ja kontseptsioone, alates Oleksandr Finkeli 1929. aastal välja pakutud definitsioonist (ta kasutas tegelikult terminit auto-tõlge). Näidatakse, et enesetõlkenähtust võib mõista eri moel, kontiinumil, mis ulatub „sõnasõnalisematest“ arusaamadest (nimelt siis, kui on olemas lähtetekst ning autor tõlgib selle teise keelde, olgu see siis tema esimene, teine, kolmas vm keel) termini metafoorsete laiendusteni (milles ainuüksi teises, kolmandas jne keeles kirjutamist peetakse juba enesetõlke esinemiskujuks). Teises osas uuritakse enesetõlke komplekssust saksakeelses nüüdiskirjanduses, kasutades näidetena järgmisi keeleüleseid autoreid: Carmine Abate, Franco Biondi, Zwetelina Damjanova, Sabine Eschgfäller, Gerhard Kofler, Pavel Kohout, Yüksel Pazarkaya, Barbara Pumhösel, Milan Ráček, Yoko Tawada ja Vladimir Vertlib. Nad kuuluvad eri põlvkondadesse, neil on erisugused kultuurilised ja kunstilised taustad, nad on tõlkinud oma teoseid eri eesmärkidel (kas poeetilistel, toimetuslikel, kommertslikel, ideoloogilistel vm põhjustel) ning eri keeltest või eri keeltesse (ühisnimetajaks saksa keel) ning seega on nad representatiivsed laiaulatuslike enesetõlkevormide osas, mida enesetõlkimine võib mitmekeelsete autorite hulgas saksakeelses kontekstis võtta. Vaadatakse, mil määral nad sobituvad ühe või teise definitsiooniga ning kuidas nad end enesetõlkijatena positsioneerivad. Näidatakse, kelle kohta kehtivad „sõnasõnalisemad“ definitsioonid, kes kehastavad selle nähtuse avaramat tõlgendamist, ja vaadeldakse mõningaid juhtusid, mida ei ole võimalik hõlpsasti kummassegi kategooriasse paigutada. Viimases, kolmandas osas keskendutakse jaapani päritolu saksa kirjanikule Yoko Tawadale, kelle teosed esindavad enesetõlke mõistmise eri võimalusi.

Introduction Within wellness circles, there has been growing concern over an increasing focus on Alternative Right (or Alt-right) conspiracy (see Aubry; Bloom and Moskalenko). Greene, referring to a definition provided by the Anti-Defamation League, defines the Alt-right as a loose political network characterised by its rejection of mainstream conservatism, embrace of white nationalism, and use of online platforms (33). The “wellness revolution”, on the other hand, which marked a split from the health care sector in which “thought leaders” replaced medical experts as authorities on health (Pilzer, qtd. in Kickbusch and Payne 275), combines New Age practices with ideological movements that emphasise the “interdependence of body, mind and spirit” (Voigt and Laing 32). It has been noted that there is overlap between the circulation of conspiracy theory and New Age mysticism (see Ward and Voas; Parmigiani). Influencers following the Paleo diet, or Palaeolithic diet, such as Australian celebrity chef and Paleo diet guru Pete Evans, have also come under fire for sharing conspiracy theories and pseudoscience (see Brennan). Johnson notes that the origins of the Paleo diet can be traced back to 1975, with the publication of Dr Walter Voegtlin’s book The Stone Age Diet. This text, however, has been largely disavowed by Paleo leaders due to Voegtlin’s “white supremacist, eugenicist, and generally unpalatable politics”. Nevertheless, it is interesting to consider how white nationalism and conspiracy theory may overlap within the wellness space. A specific example occurred in 2020, when Pete Evans shared an Alt-right conspiracy meme to his Facebook account. The ‘butterfly-caterpillar meme’ contained the image of a black sun, a symbol equated with the swastika (Goodrick-Clarke 3). Though Evans later commented that the sharing of the hate symbol was unintentional, and that he misunderstood the symbol, this case raised questions about the ability of wellness influencers to amplify white nationalist messaging. This essay is concerned with the question: what makes the wellness industry a target for the spreading of white nationalist ideas? It argues that the wellness industry and far-right ideology possess a pre-occupation with bodily purity which makes it more likely that white nationalist material carrying this message will be spread via wellness networks. Through a critical examination of the media surrounding Evans’s sharing of the butterfly-caterpillar meme, this case study will examine the ideological aspects of the Paleo diet and how they appeal to a white nationalist agenda. Focussing on the Australian context, this essay will theorise the spreadability of memes in relation to white nationalist symbolism. It contends that the Paleo diet positions foods that are not organic as impure, and holds a preference for positive messaging. Alt-right propaganda packaged in a positive and New Age frame poses a danger in that it can operate as a kind of contagion for high-profile networks, exponentially increasing its spreadability. This is of particular concern when it is considered that diet can have an impact on people’s actions outside of the online space: it impacts what people consume and do with their bodies, as evidenced by calls for eating disorders created by algorithmic repetition to be considered a ‘cyber-pathy’. This creates the conditions for the wellness industry to be targeted using memes as recruitment material for white nationalist groups. The Paleo Diet and the Sharing of a Neo-Nazi Meme Pete Evans is a famous Australian TV Chef from the hit series My Kitchen Rules, a show that ran from 2010-2020. The show followed pairs from different households as they cooked for Evans and his co-host Manu Feildel. During the show’s run, Evans also became known for spruiking the Paleo diet, producing several cookbooks and a documentary on the topic. According to Catie Gressier, who conducted a study of Paleo dieters in Melbourne, Paleo’s aim is “to eat only those foods available prior to the agricultural revolution: meat, fish, vegetables, nuts, seeds and a small amount of fruit” and that this framed as a more “authentic” diet (3). This is seen as an ideological diet as opposed to others which may consist of rules or eating restrictions. The Paleo diet stresses “real foods” or “organic foods as close to their real state as possible” (Ramachandran et al.). Studies find that the paleo diet can be very nutritious (Cambeses-Franco et al. 2021). However, it is important to note that the presence of multiple influencers and thought leaders in the field means that there can be several variations in the diet. This article will limit its examination to that of the diet promoted by Evans. A common rationale is that the human body is incompatible with certain mass-produced foods (like grains, pulses, and dairy products, sugar, salt, and modification practices (like food processing), and that these are the cause of many modern conditions (Cambeses-Franco et al. 2021). While growing concerns over unnatural additives in foods are warranted, it can be observed that in Evans’s case, the promotion of the Paleo diet increasingly blurred the line between pseudoscience and conspiracy. In his Paleo diet book for toddlers, Evans emphasised the importance of the ideological diet and suggested that parents feed their toddlers bone broth instead of breast milk, prompting a federal investigation by the health department (Brennan). This escalated in 2020 during the global pandemic. In January, Evans promoted the work of a prominent anti-vaccine advocate (Molloy). In April, his Biocharger device, which he claimed could cure coronavirus, earned him a hefty fine from the Therapeutic Goods Administration (White). In November, several months after My Kitchen Rules was cancelled, Evans posted an Alt-right political cartoon with the image of a black sun, a symbol equated with the swastika (Goodrick-Clarke 3), to his Facebook account (Gillespie). In later news reports, it was also pointed out that the black sun symbol was emblazoned on the backpack of the Christchurch shooter (see Sutton and Molloy) who had targeted two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand, killing 51 people and injuring 40. Initially, when a user on Facebook pointed out that the meme contained a black sun, Evans responded “I was waiting for someone to see that” (Evans, qtd. in Gillespie). Evans eventually recanted the image, writing: sincere apologies to anyone who misinterpreted a previous post of a caterpillar and a butterfly having a chat over a drink and perceived that I was promoting hatred. I look forward to studying every symbol that have ever existed and research them thoroughly before posting. Hopefully this symbol ❤️ resonates deeply into the hearts of ALL! (Evans, qtd. in Gillespie). The post was later deleted. In December of 2020, Evans’s Facebook page of around 1.5 million followers was removed due to its sharing of conspiracy theories and misinformation about the coronavirus (Gillespie). However, it should be noted that the sharing of the caterpillar-butterfly meme was different from the previous instances of conspiracy sharing, in that Evans stated that it was unintentional, and it included imagery associated with neo-Nazi ideology (the black sun). Evans’s response implies that, while the values of the Paleo diet are framed in terms of positivity, the symbols in the butterfly-caterpillar meme are associated with “promoting hatred”. In this way, Evans frames racism as merely and simplistically an act of hatred, rather than engaging in the ways in which it reinforces a racial hierarchy and racially motivated violence. According to Hartzell (10), white nationalists tend to position themselves as superior to other races and see themselves as protectors of the “white race”. “White” in this context is of European descent (Geary, Schofield and Sutton). There are conspiracy theories associated with this belief, one of which is that their race is under threat of extinction because of immigration from ‘undesirable’ countries of origin. This can also be observed in the Alt-right, which is a white nationalist movement that was created and organised online. According to Berger, this movement “seeks to unify the activities of several different extremist movements or ideologies”. This is characterised by anti-immigrant sentiment, conspiracy theories, and support for former US President Donald Trump. It can be argued, in this case, that the symbol links to a larger conspiracy theory in which whiteness must be defended against some perceived threat. The meme implies that there is an ‘us’ versus ‘them’, or ‘good’ versus ‘evil’, and that some people are ‘in the know’ while others are not. Spreadable Memes An important aspect of this case study is that this instance of far-right recruitment used the form of a meme. Memes are highly spreadable, and they have very complex mechanisms for disseminating ideas and ideology. This can have a dramatic impact if that ideology is a harmful one, such a white supremacist symbol. While the digital meme, an image with a small amount of text, is common today, Richard Dawkins originally used the term meme to describe the ways in which units of culture can be spread from person to person (qtd. in Shifman 9). These can be anything from the lyrics of a song to a political idea. Jeff Hemsley and Robert Mason (qtd. in Shifman) see virality as a “process wherein a message is actively forwarded from one person to other, within and between multiple weakly linked personal networks, resulting in a rapid increase in the number of people who are exposed to the message” (55). This also links to Jenkins, Ford, and Green’s notions of spreadability (3-11), a natural selection process by which media content continues to exist through networked sharing, or disappears once it stops being shared. Evans’s response indicates that he merely shared the image. Despite the black sun imagery, a Make America Great Again (MAGA) hat is clearly present. A political presence, and one that is associated with white nationalism, is present despite Evans’s attempts to frame the meme in the language of innocence and positivity. This is not to say Evans is extremist or supports a white nationalist agenda. However, in much the same way that sharing of imagery may not necessarily indicate agreement with its ideological messaging, this framing creates a way in which wellness influencers may avoid criticism (Ma 1). Furthermore, the act of sharing the meme, regardless of intention, amplifies its message exponentially. The Paleo Diet, the Far Right and Purity This overlap between wellness and white nationalist ideology is not new. In Jules Evans’s exploration of why QAnon is popular with New Age and far-right followers, she points to the fact that many Nazi leaders – Hitler, Hess, Himmler – “were into alternative medicine, organic and vegetarian diets, homeopathy, anti-vaxxing, and natural healing”. Similarly, Bernhard Forchtner and Ana Tominc argue that a natural diet which focussed on food purity was favoured by the Nazis (421). In their examination of the German neo-Nazi YouTube channel Balaclava Küche they argue add that “present-day extreme right views on environment and diet are often close to positions found in contemporary Green movements and foodie magazines” (422). Like neo-Nazi preoccupations with food, the Paleo diet’s ideology has its basis in the concept of purity. Gressier found that the Paleo diet contains an “embedded moralism” that “filters into constructions of food as either pure or polluting” (1). This is supported by Ramachandran et al.’s study, which found that the diet “promoted ‘real food’ – or the shift to consuming organic whole foods that are as close to their natural state as possible, with an avoidance of processed foods”. This framing of the food as real creates a binary – if one is real, the other must not be. Another example can be seen in Pete Evans’s Webpage, which lists about 33 Paleo recipes. The Butter Chicken recipe states: the paleo way of life is not meant to be restrictive, as you can see from this lovely butter chicken recipe. All the nasties have been replaced with good-quality ingredients that make it as good, if not better, than the original. I prefer chicken thighs for their superior flavour and tenderness. The term “nasties” here can be seen to create a dichotomy between real and fake, the west and the east. We see these foods are associated with impurity, the foods that are not “real foods” are positioned as a threat. It can be seen as an orientalist approach, othering those not associated with the west. As can be observed in this Butter Chicken recipe that is “getting rid of the nasties”, it appropriates and ‘sanitises’ ingredients. In her article on the campaign to boycott Halal, Shakira Hussein points out that “ethnic food” presents as multiculturalism in the context of white chefs and homecooks, but the opposite is true if the roles are switched (91). Later in her essay “Halal Chops and Fascist Cupcakes”, she discusses the “weaponisation of food” and how specific white nationalist groups express disgust at the thought of consuming Muslim food. This ethnocentric framing of butter chicken projects a western superiority, replacing traditional ingredients with ‘familiar’ ingredients, making it more palatable to nationalistic tastes. Spreading Consumption I have established that the Paleo diet, with its emphasis on ‘real foods’, is deeply embedded with nationalist ideology. I have also discussed how this is highly spreadable in the form of a meme, particularly when it is framed in the language of positivity. Furthermore, I have argued that this is an attempt to escape criticism for promoting white nationalist values. I would like to turn now to how this spreadability through diet can have an impact on the physical actions of its followers through its digital communication. The Paleo diet, and how to go about following it as described by celebrity influencers, has an impact on what people do with their bodies. Hanganu-Bresch discusses the concept of orthorexia, a fixation with eating proper foods that operates as a cyber-pathy, a digitally propagated condition targeting media users. Like the ‘viral’ and ‘spreadable’ meme, this puritanical obsession with eating can also be considered both a spreadable condition and ideology. According to Hanganu-Bresch, orthorexia sees this diet as a way to overcome an illness or to improve general health, but this also begins to feel righteous and even holy or spiritual. This operates within the context of neoliberalism. Brice and Thorpe talk about women’s activewear worn in everyday settings, or ‘athleisure’, as a neoliberal uniform that says, ‘I’m taking control of my body and health’. To take this idea a step further, this uniform could be extended out into digital spaces as well in terms of what people post on their profiles and social media. This ideological aspect operates as not only a highly spreadable message, but one that is targeted at the overall health of its followers. It encourages not only the spreading of ideology, in this case, white nationalist ideology, but also the modification of food consumption. If this were then to be used as a vehicle to spread messages that encourage white nationalist ideology, it can be seen to be not only a kind of contagion but a powerful one at that. White nationalist iconography that is clearly associated with white supremacist propaganda has the potential to spread extremism. However, neoliberal principles of discipline and bodywork operate through “messages of empowerment, choice, and self-care” (Lavrence and Lozanski, qtd. in Brice and Thorpe). While racist extremism does not necessarily equate to neoliberal and ethnocentric values, a frame of growth, purity, and positivity create an overlap that allow extremist messaging to spread more easily through these networks. Conclusion The case of Pete Evans’s sharing of the butterfly-caterpillar meme exemplifies a concerning overlap between white nationalist discourse and wellness. Ideologically based diets that emphasise real foods, such as the Paleo diet, have a preoccupation with purity and consumption that appeals to white nationalism. They also share a tolerance for the promotion of conspiracy theory and tendency to create an ‘us’ versus ‘them’ dichotomy. Noting these points can provide insight into a potential targeting of the wellness industry to spread racist ideology. As research into spreadability shows, memes are extremely shareable, even if the user does not grasp the meaning behind the symbolism. This article has also extended the idea of the cyberpathy further, noting a weaponisation of the properties of the meme, for the purposes of radicalisation, and how these are accelerated by celebrity influence. This is more potent within the wellness industry when the message is packaged as a form of growth and positivity, which serve to deflect accusations of racism. Furthermore, when diet is combined with white nationalist ideology, it may operate like a contagion, creating the conditions for racism. Those exposed may not have the intention of sharing or spreading racist ideology, but its amplification contributes to the promotion of a racist agenda nevertheless. As such, further investigation into the far-right infiltration of the wellness industry would be beneficial as it could provide more insight into how wellness groups are targeted. Acknowledgements A previous version of this article was presented with Dr Shakira Hussein and Scheherazade Bloul at the Just Food Conference at New York University in June 2021. This article would not have been possible without their input and advice. Dr Shakira Hussein can be contacted at shussein@unimelb.edu.au and Scheherazade Bloul can be contacted at scherrybloul@gmail.com. References Aubry, Sophie. “‘Playing with Fire’: The Curious Marriage of Qanon and Wellness.” Sydney Morning Herald 27 Sep. 2020. 29 July 2020 <https://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/health-and-wellness/playing-with-fire-the- curious-marriage-of-qanon-and-wellness-20200924-p55yu7.html>. Berger, J.M. “Trump Is the Glue That Binds the Far Right.” The Atlantic 29 Oct. 2018. 20 July 2021 <https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2018/10/trump-alt-right-twitter/574219/>. Bloom, Mia, and Sophia Moskalenko. Pastels and Pedophiles: Inside the Mind of QAnon. Stanford University Press, 2021. Brennan, Imogen. “Pete Evans’ Co-Authored Paleo Diet Cookbook for Babies under Investigation.” ABC News 12 Mar. 2015. 13 Nov. 2021 <https://www.abc.net.au/news/2015-03-12/paleo-diet-cookbook-for-babies-under-investigation-pete-evans/6309452>. Brice, Julie, and Holly Thorpe. “Chapter 1: Activewear: The Uniform of the Neoliberal Female Citizen.” Sportswomen’s Apparel around the World: Uniformly Dressed (New Femininities in Digital, Physical and Sporting Cultures). Ed. Linda K. Fuller. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan, 2021. 19-35. Cambeses-Franco, Cristina, Sara González-García, Gumersindo Feijoo, and María Teresa Moreira. “Is the Paleo Diet Safe for Health and the Environment?” Science of the Total Environment 781 (2021). <https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S004896972101785X>. Evans, Pete. “Butter Chicken.” Peteevans.com. 8 Mar. 2022 <https://peteevans.com/recipes/butter-chicken/>. Forchtner, Bernhard, and Ana Tominc. “Kalashnikov and Cooking-Spoon: Neo-Nazism, Veganism and a Lifestyle Cooking Show on Youtube.” Food, Culture & Society 20.3 (2017): 415-441. Geary, Daniel, Camilla Schofield, and Jennifer Sutton. “Introduction: Toward a Global History of White Nationalism.” Global White Nationalism: From Apartheid to Trump. Eds. Daniel Geary, Camilla Schofield, and Jennifer Sutton. 1st ed. Manchester: Manchester UP, 2020. 1–28. Gillespie, Eden. “‘Misinterpreted’: Pete Evans Apologises for Sharing Cartoon with Supposed Neo-Nazi Symbol and Is Dropped by Publisher.” SBS The Feed 16 Nov. 2020. 13 Nov. 2021 <https://www.sbs.com.au/news/the-feed/misinterpreted-pete-evans-apologises-for-sharing-cartoon-with-supposed-neo-nazi-symbol-and-is-dropped-by-publisher>. Goodrick-Clarke, Nicholas. Black Sun: Aryan Cults, Esoteric Nazism, and the Politics of Identity. New York: New York UP, 2001. Greene, Viveca S. “‘Deplorable’ Satire: Alt-Right Memes, White Genocide Tweets, and Redpilling Normies.” Studies in American Humor 5.1 (2019): 31-69. Gressier, Catie. “Food as Faith: Suffering, Salvation and the Paleo Diet in Australia.” Food Culture & Society (2021): 1-13. Hanganu-Bresch, Cristina. “Orthorexia: Eating Right in the Context of Healthism.” Medical Humanities 46.3 (2020): 311-322. Hartzell, Stephanie L. “Alt-White: Conceptualizing the Alt-Right as a Rhetorical Bridge between White Nationalism and Mainstream Public Discourse.” Journal of Contemporary Rhetoric 8 (2018). Hussein, Shakira. “Not Eating the Muslim Other: Halal Certification, Scaremongering, and the Racialisation of Muslim Identity.” International Journal for Crime, Justice and Social Democracy 4.3 (2015): 85-96. Hussein, Shakira. “Halal Chops and Fascist Cupcakes: On Diversity and the Weaponisation of Food.” Meanjin 76.1 (2017). <https://meanjin.com.au/essays/halal-chops-and-fascist-cupcakes/>. Jenkins, Henry, Sam Ford, and Joshua Green. Spreadable Media: Creating Value and Meaning in a Networked Culture. New York: New York UP, 2013. Johnson, Adrienne Rose. “The Paleo Diet and the American Weight Loss Utopia, 1975–2014.” Utopian Studies 26.1 (2015): 101-124. Kickbusch, Ilona, and Lea Payne. “Twenty-First Century Health Promotion: The Public Health Revolution Meets the Wellness Revolution.” Health Promotion International 18.4 (2003): 275-278. Ma, Cindy. “What Is the ‘Lite’ in ‘Alt-Lite?’ The Discourse of White Vulnerability and Dominance among Youtube’s Reactionaries.” Social Media + Society 7.3 (2021). Molloy, Shannon. “Celebrity Chef Pete Evans Sparks Fury for ‘Dangerous’ Selfie with Anti-Vaccination Voice.” News.com.au 13 Jan. 2020. 13 Nov. 2021 <https://www.abc.net.au/news/2015-03-12/paleo-diet-cookbook-for-babies-under-investigation-pete-evans/6309452>. Morgan, Jonathon. “These Charts Show Exactly How Racist and Radical the Alt-Right Has Gotten This Year.” The Washington Post 26 Sep. 2016. 20 July 2021 <https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/the-intersect/wp/2016/09/26/these-charts-show-exactly-how-racist-and-radical-the-alt-right-has-gotten-this-year/>. Parmigiani, Giovanna. “Magic and Politics: Conspirituality and COVID-19.” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 89.2 (2021): 506–529. Ramachandran, Divya, James Kite, Amy Jo Vassallo, Josephine Y. Chau, Stephanie Partridge, Becky Freeman, and Timothy Gill. “Food Trends and Popular Nutrition Advice Online – Implications for Public Health.” Online Journal of Public Health Informatics 10.2 (2018). Shifman, Limor. Memes in Digital Culture. MIT Press, 2014. Sutton, Candace, Shannon Molloy, and staff writers. “Gunman’s Family in Australia Called Police after News of Christchurch Massacre.” News.com.au 16 Mar. 2019. 14 Nov 2021 <https://www.news.com.au/world/pacific/gunman-who-opened-fire-on-christchurch-mosque-addresses-attack-in-manifesto/news-story/70372a39f720697813607a9ec426a734>. Voigt, Cornelia, and Jennifer H. Laing. “A Way through the Maze: Exploring Differences and Overlaps between Wellness and Medical Tourism Providers.” Medical Tourism and Transnational Health Care (2013): 30-47. Ward, Charlotte, and David Voas. “The Emergence of Conspirituality.” Journal of Contemporary Religion 26.1 (2011): 103–121. White, Daniella. “Celebrity Chef Pete Evans Fined $80,000, Ordered to Stop Making Wellness Claims.” Sydney Morning Herald 25 Mar. 2020. 13 Nov. 2021 <https://www.smh.com.au/national/celebrity-chef-pete-evans-fined-80-000-ordered-to-stop-making-wellness-claims-20210525-p57v40.html>. Zhou, Naaman. “Pete Evans’ Documentary Should be Cut from Netflix, Doctors Group Says”. The Guardian 2 June 2018. 3 Jan. 2022 <https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2018/jun/03/pete-evans-documentary-should-be-cut-from-netflix-doctors-group-says>.

Digital Articulations of the Relational Self Identity continues to be one of the enduring topics in digital media research. This interdisciplinary take on the digital self extends the discussion in my dissertation (Harju) of contemporary articulations of the relational self in the digital context by focusing on potentiality of the evolving self. I adopt a relational approach to being (Gergen Relational) where the self is seen as always already a product of relations, borne out of them as well as dependent on them (Gergen Realities). The self as fluid and processual is reflective of our liquid times (Bauman), of globalisation and digitalisation where we are surrounded by global flows of images, taste and trends (Appadurai).The view of the self as a process underlies future-oriented action, emphasing the becoming of the self. The process of becoming implies the potential of the self that can be narrated into existence. The relational view of the self, perhaps indirectly, also posits the self as a temporal interface between the present and the future, as a site where change unfolds. It is therefore important to critically reflect on the kinds of potentialities we can discover and engage with and the kinds of futures (Berardi) we can construct.Extending Gergen’s conceptualisation of the kinds of relations to include non-human actors (e.g. media technologies) as well socio-cultural and economic forces allows me to explore the conflicting forces shaping the self, for example, the influence the market exerts on self-construction together with the media logics that guide digital self-production practices. Because of the market’s dominant position in today’s imagination, I seek to explore the relational processes of inclusion and exclusion that position individuals relative to as well as in terms of the market as more or less included or excluded subjects (Harju).The digital environment is a unique setting for identity projects as it provides spatial and temporal flexibility, the possibility for curation, consideration and reconstruction. At the same time, it lacks a certain historicity; as Smith and Watson note, the self constructed online lacks narrative beginning and end that in “analog life writing [are] distinguishable by birth or death” (90). While it is tempting therefore to assume that self-construction online is free from all constraints, this is not necessarily so as the self is nevertheless produced within the wider socio-cultural context in which it also needs to “make sense,” these conditions persisting across these modes of being. Self as a relational process inevitably connects what for analytical purposes may be called online and offline social spaces as there is a processual linkage, a relational flow, that connects any online entity to a form outside the digital realm.Media institutions and the process of mediation (Rak Boom!) shape the autobiographical practices (Poletti), and the notion of automedia was introduced as a way to incorporate images, text and technologies as constitutive in autobiographic accounts (Smith and Watson) and help see online life as life instead of mere representation (Rak "Life"). The automedial approach rejects essentialist accounts of the self, assuming rather that the self is called into being and constructed in and by the materiality of the medium, in the process of mediation. This furthermore entails a move beyond the literary in terms of autobiographies toward consideration of the enabling and restricting roles of media technologies in the kinds of selves that can be constructed (Maguire 74).Viewing the self as always already relationally emergent (Gergen Relational) and combining this view with the framework of automedial construction of the self allows us to bring into the examination of the digital self the socio-cultural and economic forces and the diverse discourses meeting at the site of the self. Importantly, the relational approach prioritises relations and therefore the self is constituted in a relational flow in a process of becoming, placing importance on the kinds of relational configurations where the becoming of the self takes place.This paper explores how the digital self is forged under the joint pressures of consumerist logic and media logics in the contemporary society where “being a consumer” is the predominant subjectivity (Firat; Bauman). I draw on sociology of consumption to examine the relational tensions shaping identity construction of marginalised individuals. To empirically illustrate the discussion I draw on a previous study (Harju and Huovinen) on plus-sized fashion blogging and examine fatshion blogging as a form of automedia (see also Rak "Digital" on blogs).Plus-Sized Fashion Bloggers and Market-Mediated IdentityPlus-sized fashion bloggers, “fatshionistas,” actively seek social and cultural inclusion by way of fashion. As a collective activity, plus-sized fashion blogging is more than diary writing (see also Rak Digital) but also more than fashion blogging: the blogs constitute “networked, collective and active consumer resistance,” illuminating “marginalised consumers’ identity work at the intersection of commercial culture and the counter-representations of traditional femininity” (Harju and Huovinen 1603). Blogging resistant or subversive identities into being is thus also a form of activism and political action (Connell). As a form of automedia and autobiographical production, fatshion blogging has as its agenda the construction of alternative subjectivities and carving out a legitimate social space in the “fatosphere,” “a loosely interconnected network of online resources aimed at creating a safe space where individuals can counter fat prejudice, resist misconceptions of fat, engage in communal experiences and promote positive understandings of fat” (Gurrieri and Cherrier 279). Fashion blogs are rich in self-images portraying “fat fashion”: thus, not only fashion as a physical medium and the images representative of such materiality, but also the body acts as a medium.Plus-sized fashion bloggers feel marginalised as women due to body size but they also face rejection in and by the market. Normalised discourses around fashion and the female body as one that is fashioned render fashion blogging an avenue to normativity (Berlant): the symbolic power of taste (Bourdieu) embedded in fashion is harnessed to construct the desired self and to mobilise discourses of acceptable subjectivity. However, it is these very discourses that also construct the “state of being fat” as deviant and stigmatise the larger body as something falling outside the definition of good taste (LeBesco).The description on the Fatshionista! Livejournal page summarizes the agenda that despite the focus on fashion carries political undertones:Welcome, fatshionistas! We are a diverse fat-positive, anti-racist, disabled-friendly, trans-inclusive, queer-flavored, non-gender-specific community, open to everyone. Here we will discuss the ins and outs of fat fashions, seriously and stupidly--but above all--standing tall, and with panache. We fatshionistas are self-accepting despite The Man's Saipan-made boot at our chubby, elegant throats. We are silly, and serious, and want shit to fit.In a previous study (Harju and Huovinen) on the conflicted identity construction of plus-sized fashion bloggers (see also Gurrieri and Cherrier; Limatius) we found the complex performative tactics used in constructing the plus-sized blogger identity both resisted the market as well as embraced it: the bloggers seek similarity via appeals to normativity (see also Coleman and Figueroa) yet underline difference by rejecting the demands of normative ideals.The bloggers’ similarity seeking tactics (Harju and Huovinen) emphasise shared commonalities with the feminine ideals (ultra-femininity, posing and girliness) and on the face of it contribute to reproducing not only the gendered self but also the market-compromised self that endorses a very specific type of femininity. The plus-sized blogger identity, although inherently subversive as it seeks to challenge and expand the repertoire and imagery available to women, nevertheless seeks inclusion by way of the market, the very same that rejected them as “consumers”. This relational tension is negotiated on the blogs, and resistance emerges through articulating difference.Thus, the bloggers’ diversity asserting tactics (Harju and Huovinen) add to the complexity of the identity project and constitute explicit resistance, giving rise to resistant consumer identity. Bodily differences are highlighted (e.g. the bigger body is embraced, skin and body revealed rather than concealed) as the bloggers take control of how they are represented, using media to challenge the market that defines acceptable femininity in ways that ostracises fat women. The contradictory processes at the site of the self give rise to relational tension (Gergen Relational) and blogging offers a site for collective negotiation. For the plus-sized bloggers, to be included means no longer occupying the margins: self-images displaying the fat body contribute to corporeal empowerment (Harju and Huovinen) where flaunting the fat body helps construct the identity of a “fatshionista” blogger liberated from shame and stigma attached to the bigger body:I decided to start this blog after being a regular poster on the Fatshionista LiveJournal community. Finding that community changed my whole outlook on life, I was fat (still am) & unhappy with myself (not so much now). I was amazed to find a place where fat people celebrated their bodies, instead of being ashamed. (Harju and Huovinen 1614).The fatshion blog as a form of automedia is driven by the desire for change in the social circumstances where self-construction can take place, toward the future potential of the self, by diversifying acceptable subject positions and constructing novel identification points for fat women. The means are limited, however, and despite the explicit agenda of promoting body positivity, the collective aspirations are rooted in consumption and realised in the realm of fashion and the market.The question, therefore, is whether resistance outside the market is possible when so much of our social existence is bound up with the market and consumerist logic, or whether the desire for inclusion, manifest in aspirational normativity (Berlant) with the promise of social acceptance linked to normative way of life, necessitates market participation and the adoption of consumer subjectivity? Consumer subjectivity offers normative intelligibility in the various expressions of identity, providing tools for the becoming of an included subject. However, it raises the question of whether resistant identity can occur outside the market and outside the logic of consumption when it seeks social inclusion.Market-compromised identity is a double-edged sword; while participation via the market may help construct a self that is intelligible, market participation also disciplines the subject to take part in a certain way, of becoming a certain type of consuming subject, all the time harnessing the self for the benefit of the market. With no beginning or an end, the digital self is in constant processual flux, responding to conflicting relational input. The market adds to this complexity as “the neoliberal subject is compelled to participate in society as both an enthusiastic consumer and as a self-controlled subject” (Guthman 193).Social Imaginaries as Horizons of Constrained Possibility Identity possibilities are inscribed in the popular imagination, and the concept of social imaginary (Castoriadis; Taylor) provides a useful lens through which to examine articulations of the digital self. Social imaginaries are not unitary constructions and different imaginaries are evoked in different contexts. Likewise, although often shared, they are nevertheless unique to the individual, presenting as a terrain of conceivable action befitting of the individual engaged in the act of imagining.In our socially saturated times relational input is greater than ever (Gergen Relational). Imagining now draws on a wider range of identity possibilities, the ways of imagining the self being reflective of the values of any given time. Both consumption and media infiltrate the social imagination which today is not only compromised by market logic but has become constitutive of a terrain where the parameters for inclusion, change and resistance are limited. Practices of performing desirable femininity normalise a certain way of being and strike a constitutive boundary between what is desirable and what is not. The plus-sized fashion blogging makes visible the lack of diversity in the popular imagination (Harju and Huovinen) while fatshion blogging also reveals what possibilities there are for inclusion (i.e. via consumption and by mobilising normative femininity) and where the boundaries of identity work lie (see also Connell).The fat body is subjected to discipline (Giovanelli and Ostertag; LeBesco) and “becoming fat” is regularly viewed as a lack of control. Not limited to fat subjects, the prevalent discourses of the self emphasise control and responsibility for the self (rather than community), often masquerading as self-approval. The same discourses, however, highlight work on the self (McRobbie) and cultivating the self by various means of self-management or self-tracking (Rettberg). Such self-disciplining carries the implication of the self as somewhat lacking (Skeggs Imagining, Exchange), of being in some way unintelligible (Butler).In plus-sized blogging, the fat body needs to be subjected to fashioning to become intelligible within the dominant discourses in the public sphere. The fatshionista community is a politically oriented movement that rejects the normative demands governing the body, yet regimes of ‘self-improvement’ are evident on the individual blogs displaying the fashioned body, which is befitting of the normative understandings of the female subject as sexualised, as something to be consumed (see also Maguire). Contrary to the discourses of fat female subjects where the dimension of sexuality is largely absent, this is also linked to the problematics related to the visibility of female subjects. The negotiation of relational tension is manifest as negotiation of competing discourses where bloggers adopt the hegemonic visual discourses to subvert the stigmatising discourses that construct the fat female subject as lacking. Utilising media logics (e.g. micro-celebrity) to gain visibility as fat subjects is an important aspect of the fatshionistas’ automedial self-construction.I argue that social imaginaries that feed into identity construction and offer pathways to normalcy cannot be seen simply and only as enabling, but instead they construct horizons of constrained possibility (Harju), thereby imposing limitations to the kind of acceptable identity positions marginalised individuals can seek. Digital productions form chains of symbolic entities and acquire their meaning by being interconnected as well as by being connected to popular social imaginaries. Thus, the narrative construction of the self in the digital production, and the recognition of the self in the becoming, is the very utility of the digital object. This is because through the digital artefact the individual becomes relationally linked to chains of significations (Harju). Through such linkages and subverted discourses, the disenfranchised may become enfranchised.Toward Horizons of Potentiality and PossibilityThe relational self is a process under continual change and thus always becoming. This approach opens up new avenues for exploring the complexities of the digital self that is never ‘just’ a reproduction. Automedia entails both the media about the maker (the subject) and the process of mediating the self (Rak "Life" 161) The relational approach helps overcome the binary distinction in modes of being (online versus offline), instead bringing into focus the relational flow between various articulations of the self in different relational scenarios. Then perhaps the question is not “what kinds of selves become or are borne digital” (Rak Life 177), but what kinds of selves are possible in the first place under the current conditions that include the digital as one mode of being, mediating the becoming, with the digital as one relational space of articulation of the self among many.Where in On Being Online I discussed the constraining effects of market ideology embedded in social imaginaries on how the self can be articulated, Berardi in his book Futurability offers a more optimistic take, noting how the different paths we take result in different possibilities becoming realised, resulting in different social realities in the future. Future is not a linear development from the present; rather, the present harbours the potential for multiple futures. Berardi notes how the “[f]uture is not prescribed but inscribed, so it must be selected and extracted through interpretation” (236). Despite the dominant code - which in our times is consumption (Baudrillard) - hindering the process of interpretation, there is hope in Berardi’s notion of inscribed possibilities for resistance and change, for different ways of being and becoming.This is the space the plus-sized fashion bloggers occupy as they grasp the potentialities in the present and construct new ways of being that unfold as different social realities in the future. In blogging, platform affordances together with other media technologies are intertwined with future-oriented life narration in the construction of the fatshionista identity which involves retrospective interpretation of life experiences as a fat woman as well as self-liberation in the form of conscious rejection of the dominant discourses around fat female subjects.The digital self is able to negotiate such diverse, even conflicting forces in the active shaping of the social reality of its existence. Blogging as automedia can constitute an act of carving out alternative futures not limited to the digital realm. Perhaps when freed from aspirational normativity (Berlant) we are able to recover hope in the inscribed possibilities that might also hide the potential for a transition from a subjectivity enslaved to the market logic (see Firat Violence) to a self actively engaged in changing the social circumstances and the conditions in which subjectivity is construed (see Firat and Dholakia). In the becoming, the digital self occupies a place between the present and the future, enmeshed in various discourses of aspiration, mediated by material practices of consumption and articulated within the limits of current media practices (Harju). A self in the making, it is variably responsive to the multitude of relational forces continually flowing at the site of it.Although the plus-sized bloggers’ identity work can be seen as an attempt to transform or discipline the self into something more intelligible that better fits the existing narratives of the self, they are also adding new narratives to the repertoire. If we adopt the view of self-conception as discourse about the self, that is, “the performance of languages available in the public sphere” (Gergen, Realities 185) whereby the self is made culturally intelligible by way of narration within ongoing relationships, we can see how the existing cultural discourses of the self are not only inclusive, but also alienating and othering. There is a need for identity politics that encourage the production of alternative discourses of the self for more inclusive practices of imagining. Blogging as automedia is not only a way of making visible that which occupies the margins, it also actively contributes to diversifying identification points in the public sphere that are not limited to the digital, but have implications regarding the production of social realities, regardless of the mode in which these are experienced.ReferencesAppadurai, Arjun. Modernity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota P, 1996.Baudrillard, Jean. The Consumer Society: Myths and Structures. Trans. C. Turner. London: Sage, 1998 [1970].Bauman, Zygmunt. “The Self in Consumer Society.” The Hedgehog Review: Critical Refections on Contemporary Culture 1 (1999): 35-40. ———. Liquid Modernity. Cambridge: Polity, 2000.———. “Consuming Life.” Journal of Consumer Culture 1 (2001): 9–29.———, and Benedetto Vecchi. Identity: Conversations with Benedetto Vecchi. Cambridge: Polity, 2004.Berlant, Lauren. “Nearly Utopian, Nearly Normal: Post-Fordist Affect in La Promesse and Rosetta.” Public Culture 19 (2007): 273-301.Bourdieu, Pierre. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. London: Routledge. 1986.Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. London: Routledge. 2006 [1990].Castoriadis, Cornelius. “Radical Imagination and the Social Instituting Imaginary.” Rethinking Imagination: Culture and Creativity. Eds. G. Robinson and J.F. Rundell. Abingdon: Routledge, 1994. 136-154.Coleman, Rebecca, and Mónica Moreno Figueroa. “Past and Future Perfect? Beauty, Affect and Hope.” Journal for Cultural Research 14 (2010): 357-373.Connell, Catherine. “Fashionable Resistance: Queer “Fa(t)shion Blogging as Counterdiscourse.” Women’s Studies Quarterly 41 (2013): 209-224.Firat, Fuat A. “The Consumer in Postmodernity.” NA - Advances in Consumer Research 18 (1991): 70-76. ———. “Violence in/by the Market.” Journal of Marketing Management, 2018.Firat, Fuat A., and Nikhilesh Dholakia. “From Consumer to Construer: Travels in Human Subjectivity.” Journal of Consumer Culture 17 (2016): 504-522.Franco “Bifo” Berardi. Futurability: The Age of Impotence and the Horizon of Possibility. London: Verso, 2017. Gergen, Kenneth J. Realities and Relationships: Soundings in Social Construction. Cambridge: Harvard University P. 1994.———. Relational Being: Beyond Self and Community. New York: Oxford University P., 2009.Giovanelli, Dina, and Stephen Ostertag. “Controlling the Body: Media Representations, Body Size, and Self-Discipline.” Fat Studies Reader. Eds. E. Rothblum and S. Solovay. New York: New York University P, 2009. 289-296.Gurrieri, Lauren, and Hélène Cherrier. “Queering Beauty: Fatshionistas in the Fatosphere.” Qualitative Market Research: An International Journal 16 (2013): 276-295.Guthman, Julie. “Neoliberalism and the Constitution of Contemporary Bodies.” Fat Studies Reader. Eds. E. Rothblum and S. Solovay. New York: New York University P, 2009. 187-196.Harju, Anu A., and Annamari Huovinen. ”Fashionably Voluptuous: Normative Femininity and Resistant Performative Tactics in Fatshion Blogs.” Journal of Marketing Management 31 (2015): 1602–1625.Harju, Anu A. On ‘Being’ Online: Insights on Contemporary Articulations of the Relational Self. Dissertation. Helsinki: Aalto University, 2017. <http://urn.fi/URN:ISBN:978-952-60-7434-4>.LeBesco, Kathleen. “Revolting Bodies? The Struggle to Redefine Fat Identity. U of Massachusetts P, 2004.Limatius, Hanna. “’There Really Is Nothing like Pouring Your Heart Out to a Fellow Fat Chick’: Constructing a Body Positive Blogger Identity in Plus-Size Fashion Blogs.” Token: A Journal of English Linguistics 6 (2017).Maguire, Emma. “Self-Branding, Hotness, and Girlhood in the Video Blogs of Jenna Marbles.” Biography 38.1 (2015): 72-86.McRobbie, Angela. “Post-Feminism and Popular Culture.” Feminist Media Studies 4 (2004): 255-264. Poletti, Anna. “What's Next? Mediation.” a/b: Auto/Biography Studies 32 (2017): 263-266.Rak, Julie. “The Digital Queer: Weblogs and Internet Identity.” Biography 28 (2005): 166-182.———. Boom! Manufacturing Memoir for the Popular Market. Waterloo: Wilfred Laurier UP. 2013.———. “Life Writing versus Automedia: The Sims 3 Game as a Life Lab.” Biography 38 (2015): 155-180.Rettberg, Jill W. “Self-Representation in Social Media.” Sage Handbook of Social Media. Eds. J. Burgess, A. Marwick, and T. Poell, 2017. 5 Feb. 2018 <http://hdl.handle.net/1956/13073>.Skeggs, Beverley. “Exchange, Value and Affect: Bourdieu and ‘the Self’.” The Sociological Review 52 (2004): 75-95.———. “Imagining Personhood Differently: Person Value and Autonomist Working-Class Value Practices.” The Sociological Review 59 (2011): 496-513.Smith, Sidonie, and Julia Watson. “Virtually Me.” Identity Technologies: Constructing the Self Online. Eds. A. Poletti and J. Rak. University of Wisconsin Press, 2014. 70-95.Taylor, Charles. “Modern Social Imaginaries.” Public Culture 14 (2002): 91-124.

The Creative City Unlike the terms ‘creative industries’, which nobody ever quite understood, and ‘creative class’, about which actual ‘creatives’ were always ambiguous, the ‘creative city’ has been an incredibly successful global policy meme, to which cities across the world continue to aspire. From the early 1990s, faced with de-industrialisation, rising unemployment, and the increased global mobility of capital, professionals, and consumer-tourists, the ‘creative city’ became an essential part of the new urban imaginary for politicians, planners, local growth coalitions, and advocates and practitioners in art and culture. In the later 1980s and early 1990s, much of this policy and practice work had progressive intent; as decaying parts of the city acquired new artistic and cultural uses, and neo-bohemian lifestyles and pop-cultural aspirations seemed to provide the grounds for future-oriented urban identities. Whilst investment in iconic cultural buildings and refurbished heritage sites repositioned cities as destinations for global tourism and finance (Peck et al.), new forms of creative production would provide employment and catalyse the wider urban economy. The creative city was to be a benign economy of innovative small businesses, working in projects and acting in symbiosis with the transformed urban landscape of the city (Pratt; Scott). If at first such a “creativity fix” (Peck, Creativity) was permeable to new actors and radical visions, it rapidly became a codified “cookie cutter” approach (Oakley), primarily concerned with revalorising decaying urban built stock as ‘vibrant’ spaces for upmarket urban consumption. This has stretched from visual arts to popular music (Bennett; O’Connor Music). The “creative imaginary” of entrepreneurial subjects—working in flat networks clustered around zones or milieux of intensified creativity (O’Connor and Shaw; O’Connor and Gu)—was quickly localised in spaces of real estate-led consumption, with production corralled into the ‘managed workspace’ whose image value—a shiny ‘creative hub’—was usually worth far more than any actual production taking place inside of it (O’Connor, Art). From the turn of the millennium, this global “fast policy” flowed through elite circuits of ‘policy transfer’ (Peck, Scale): unevenly distributed nodes assembling politicians, public administrators, planners, ‘cool’ developers, cultural consultants, branded arts institutions, and creative ‘thought-leaders’ (De Beukelaer and O’Connor). Global agencies such as UNESCO, through its Creative Cities Network, or consultancies such as Charles Landry and BOP, have attempted to frame this in a benign narrative of ‘hands across the ocean’ cultural globalisation. But we now know from two decades of creative economy proselytising that culture is a “driver and enabler” of development, not a normative standard against which it might be judged. And however inclusive ‘culture’ is made to sound, the creative city agenda remains firmly in the hands of local elites attempting to harness global flows of finance, media images, tourists, and ‘creatives’ for local development opportunities (Novy and Colomb; Courage and McKeown). By 2008 the creative city was already in trouble, as an increasingly brutal wave of gentrification came to be seen as the necessary corollary of the gleaming images of creative clusters, hipster hangouts, and iconic arts infrastructure. Predicated on a “spatial fix” (Harvey) for the decaying landscapes of the industrial city, the creative city was already producing its own ruins, as culture-led investment projects failed (Brodie). Since 2008, as the paper-thin walls between art, creativity, and real estate capital dissolved, it became increasingly clear that, though the script remained, the utopian moment was dead and buried. For many critics, both inside the cultural sector and out, it was time to roughly bundle it into the catch-all of neoliberalism and ‘gentrification’ and throw it overboard. Creative City RIP. The Ordinary City This critical take was performed early on by geographers such as Ash Amin and others (Amin and Graham; Amin, Massey, and Thrift), who suggested we re-centre the ordinary city—the one in which most people live—rather than fetishise some high-growth, hi-tech, gleaming Creative City. It was reiterated more recently by the Foundational Economy Collective, who argue that it is the everyday infrastructures and services of our towns and cities—and their mundane local economies of nail bars, cafes, and auto-repair shops—that should form the basis of our urban economic thinking (FEC). Jamie Peck, an early critic of the Creative City, had already cast doubt on the real economic weight of ‘creative industries’ and saw the whole thing as cover for the ‘entrepreneurial (read: neoliberal) city’, and a new kind of culturally-inflected growth coalition (Peck and Ward; Peck, Struggling). Similar dissent could be found amongst those writing within the cultural field. For every new city on the global creative smorgasbord, there were local artists and community activists who could show you a whole other side, excluded from the glass boxes and white cubes, from the funding and the hyped-up narratives lavished on the creative city. This mostly targeted the big iconic developments, led by global brands sucking the funding and the imagination from the surrounding city—what we might call ‘the Bilbao effect’. This cynicism toward the Creative City overlapped with a rejection of a ‘high art’ establishment and its elitist forms of culture. The ‘ordinary city’ here did not set the mundane against art and culture but reframed these as part of an everyday creativity. This could mean small-scale, neighbourhood-embedded art and culture, proposed by those in favour of ‘community arts’ and indeed those seeking localised popular culture such as music scenes. But it could also mean a valorisation of creativity writ large; a generalised urban creativity in which imagination and experimentation, but also subversion and contestation permeate the everyday. Following the Global Financial Crisis (GFC), critiques of the creative city concept became increasingly common. Oli Mould’s 2015 book Urban Subversion and the Creative City captures much of this, providing a distinction between the capitalised Creative City and the lower-case creative city. Mould distinguishes between the ‘Creative City’ ideology as extractive, and the ‘creative city’ as enabling citizenship. For Mould, the Creative City is “the antithesis of urban creativity” (Urban 4), and “shorthand for the capitalistic, paradigmatic (bordering on dogmatic) and meta-narrative view of how creativity can be used to economically stimulate and develop the city” (5). It is top-down creative planning at its worst. Against this, Mould evokes the lower-case concept of creative city, seeing some hope for it as a descriptor of urban spaces where “being creative is the very act of citizenship” (5). The Creative City imposed itself as a requirement of urban economic competitiveness (successful or not) and needs to be implacably opposed. Alternatively, the creative city persists in various forms of ‘urban subversion’, though whether the actual term—like creativity itself (Mould, Against)—can be freed from an association with its capitalised nemesis is, for Mould, still moot. Whilst Mould’s distinction allows us to evoke an urban creativity distinct from the commodified, extractive forms of the Creative City—one rooted in the ordinary, everyday creative practices of the city still open to themes of subversion and contestation centring cultural labour over cultural infrastructure—we also have some reservations. The C/creative couplet recalls de Certeau’s opposition of strategy and tactics, skyscraper and street, and has some of its problems. Baldly, this gives control of the city over to the powerful and condemns the rest of us to a game of endless evasion and subversion. For whilst the contemporary Creative City agenda may be largely as Mould describes it, its provenance is more complex than the extractive agenda which currently animates it. Understanding this provenance might give us some pointers beyond this binary impasse. Roots of the Creative City Although the Creative City eventually became integrated into the neoliberal urban script, the policy imaginary that birthed it emerged from the post-1960s rise of urban social movements, anti-development coalitions, new cultural practices (especially around popular music), artist co-ops, squats, and alternative cultures. Across the 1970s and 1980s one might say the C/creative City was an aspect of growing claims for cultural citizenship, the more explicit acknowledgement of a cultural dimension within T.H. Marshall’s ‘social citizenship’ (Marshall). The Greater London Council (GLC) of 1979-86 is exemplary here (Bianchini; Hatherley), but this was only the most visible case in which de-industrialising cities acquired aspirations to a different kind of city living. The utopian-romantic vision of a new kind of urban culture in which the transformative powers of art would abandon the ethereal world of the museum-gallery and take carnal form in the grotesque ruins of an industrial city was most literal in Wim Wenders’s 1987 film Wings of Desire. It was there in Berlin and New York as it was in Melbourne and Manchester, and a hundred other such cities (Whitney). As an industrial urban civilisation no longer seemed viable in the Global North, ‘culture’ became a central stake in anticipating what might come next. What new forms of working and living might be possible? What new identities, pleasures, desires might it accommodate? A new generation, immersed in what Mark Fisher called ‘popular modernism’ (Fisher), sought new forms of artistic expression within popular culture, making demands on the formal cultural system, on the infrastructure of the city, and on how the city could be re-imagined. In short, the C/creative City was not simply an invention of neoliberalism. It carried within it a utopian promise that should not be discounted. Perhaps we can see this in that most vilified of concepts, the ‘creative class’. The (Not-So) Creative Class By the 2008 GFC, the concept of the ‘creative class’—positioned as the primary driver and beneficiary of the creative city—was already coming apart. Unaffordable housing, rent hikes, rising debts, welfare cuts, reducing returns to ‘educational capital’ and the dominance of asset economies, precarious employment, culture budget cuts, and the integration of large sections of creative production into new platform economies have accelerated since that time. Global development capital has now built high-end leisure, entertainment, accommodation, and amenities into its core business model, one that does not require a prior process of valorisation by local creatives. Mould suggests the Creative City was a Trojan Horse and the creative class the Greeks inside (Urban 8). But whilst policymakers and city marketers embraced this term, it was never a class for-itself, with the clear strategic focus of soldiers waiting to pounce. Florida’s statistical fantasy netted a massive chunk of the population—almost 40 percent—as ‘professional, managerial and scientific’ (Florida, Rise). Meanwhile actual ‘creatives’ were always a poor relation and lived very differently to those others, most of whom preferred the suburbs and ex-burbs to the bustling city. Artists were not the storm-troopers of gentrification but its dupes, eventually evicted from the city they helped conquer. Meanwhile, since the advent of Florida and Landry, developers didn’t even need to use these ‘storm-troopers’ to soften up places for gentrification. They could now work directly with compliant city authorities to do the work for them. Creative cities could be deployed by toolkit (Landry) and, of course, measured via economic impact studies and a variety of other econometrics weaponised by corporate consultancies for hire. This was the social and political landscape upon which the Global Financial Crisis dealt an especially severe form of austerity, disproportionately affecting the cultural sector, and exacerbating many of the problematic areas of ‘creative city’ policy that had previously been abated and ameliorated by a veneer of hipster cool. Nonetheless, the ‘creative class’ also articulated a utopian promise, especially in places outside of the ‘Global North’ where more traditional forms of political power, gender roles, and religion remain in play. In a period of rapid globalisation, as relatively insulated economies became integrated into global capital flows, and cities bore the brunt of disruptive social and cultural changes, the C/creative City could stand in for a global modernity with a future. It could make available a new set of aspirations and identities; for a younger, more educated few perhaps, yet still real despite this. De Beukelaer, in the Indonesian context, talks about the “productive friction” between the two C/creative Cities, where the gap between the universal abstract and the local reality can form a site of negotiation. The C/creative City licences an encounter between new aspirations and identities, and the more traditional elites; an unequal struggle to define or give further content to the neoliberal nostrums of creative modernity that emanate from the Creative City meme. Yet it is not clear just why this negotiation is only made possible by the ‘apolitical’ notion of ‘creative’, or what’s at stake in that term. Is it a merely a cypher—or McGuffin—for a more complex conflict of interests? In what form would the “re-politicisation” of the creative city, called for at the end of the article, consist? What Next? We are not then talking about The City & the City (Mieville), in which two cities occupy the same geographic space but codify their separation by routinely ignoring each other and that which is deemed to belong to the other city. They are always in some kind of negotiation and contestation, but around what? We would argue that the imaginary of the C/creative City was annexed by, but not necessarily created by, neoliberalism. If the C/creative City articulated a future beyond a Fordist industrial civilisation, then we must take care in rejecting it not to abandon at the same time the power to imagine a different future. So, too, in attempting to assert the ordinary everyday city, we must also keep hold of a sense of the creative imagination that art and culture articulates, rather than dismissing this as part of the shiny glass palace on the hill. The absence of art and culture from the new progressive social and economic agendas that are currently finding their way into the mainstream—green new deals, doughnuts, well-being, community and ecological economics, and so on—is telling (O’Connor, Reset). In part this reflects the capture of arts and cultural policy by neoliberalism. This is not just ‘economic rationalism’ or market fundamentalism, for in the ‘creative economy’ art and cultural policy fused with neoliberalism at a deep DNA level, and the creative city imaginary was part of this. Mould is right to doubt whether the notion of ‘creative’, so closely enmeshed, could ever be retrieved. But regardless of whether art and culture have been condemned by this close association, the collapse of its romantic-utopian promise into a consumer leisure economy has left a void. If Jameson’s contention that we cannot think the end of capitalism is no longer the case (Jameson; Morozov), then culture is not present at this new moment of transition. So much well-being, community, and ecological economics speaks of culture whilst barely naming it. For us, the rearticulation of the place of art and culture in the contemporary city is crucial. We would even suggest that without art and culture, a full transformation of the contemporary city would be impossible. But how to think this? Any democratic cultural policy would need to reclaim both the ordinary and the creative city. This would entail the creative city of dissent and subversion, so closely aligned with the broad social movements to which we must look, in large part, to transform the city. It would also mean the right to a full participation in the imaginary of the collective city in which we all dwell and where we can imagine different futures. For this to happen, art and culture needs to be taken out of the hands of real estate, tourism, and economic development, and reframed as part of public service and public value. Just as new movements seek to reframe economic growth in terms of sustainability, equity, and human flourishing (Raworth), a radical creative city would be one in which art and culture were constitutive of the social foundations and part of how we live together as citizens, not simply another engine of the consumption economy. This process of re-embedding art and culture in the everyday foundations of the ordinary city is certainly underway. The ‘new municipalism’ (Thompson) has begun to make space for culture, with cities such as Barcelona and organisations such as the UCLG making a lot of the running. Notions of cultural rights, both individual and collective, have returned to challenge the urban consumption model. Just as art and culture try to position themselves alongside other foundational services—health, education, welfare—they also need to engage with new approaches to urban design, where technologies and infrastructures have been repositioned as cultural rather than technological. This suggests both that art and culture engage with the wider ‘cultural’—as in the anthropological, ‘whole way of life’—but that it no longer ‘owns’ this culture. Art and culture are not to be seen, as in the 1980s, as the ‘key’ to a total social transformation, but as one element only, however crucial. So too ‘creative’ needs to be unpicked and reframed, away from its association with ‘progress’ and absolute self-creation towards ‘slowdown’ (Dorling), sustainability, custodianship, care, incrementalism, and restoration – the kinds of values we now associate with First Nations. The shared DNA between creativity and capitalist modernity runs deep. Conclusion The COVID-19 pandemic has devastated large areas of art and culture, putting a question mark next to the urban use patterns that underpinned so much of the creative city model (Banks and O’Connor; de Peuter et al.; Tanghetti et al.; Whiting and Roberts). The Creative City of consumption, commuting, tourism, and entertainment stopped. Though some construction continued, the very purpose of the city centre—which over three decades had been rebranded as the Central Business District—was called into question. But the creative city was devastated too. Not just the collapse in income for cultural workers and business owners, but so too the filigrees of creative connection, the rhizomic mica that underpin the ecosystem of the city. Creatives already made no money, but at least they could go to openings and stay out late. Not anymore. This knockout blow was followed by the recognition that, for all the creative rhetoric, it was construction spending that counted most towards cultural funding budgets (Pacella et al.). Whilst talk quickly became one of getting artists and creatives to kickstart urban activity and animate deserted main street properties—‘build back better’—it is not at all clear where this endless supply of artists is going to come from. Now might be the time to explore how we might rethink art, culture, and the city rather than business as usual. As Arundhati Roy suggested, “nothing could be worse than a return to normality. Historically, pandemics have forced humans to break with the past and imagine their world anew. This one is no different. It is a portal, a gateway between one world and the next” (Roy). If art and culture don’t form part of that search for the new world, they will end up simply defending this one. References Amin, Ash, and Stephen Graham. “The Ordinary City.” Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 22.4 (1997): 411-429. Amin, Ash, Doreen Massey, and Nigel Thrift. Cities for the Many Not for the Few. Cambridge: Polity, 2000. Banks, Mark, and Justin O’Connor. “‘A Plague upon Your Howling’: Art and Culture in the Viral Emergency.” Cultural Trends 30.1 (2021): 3-18. Bennett, Toby. “The Justification of a Music City: Handbooks, Intermediaries and Value Disputes in a Global Policy Assemblage.” City, Culture and Society 22 (2020). Bianchini, Franco. “GLC R.I.P Cultural Policies in London, 1981-1986.” New Formations 1.1 (1987): 103-117. Brodie, Patrick. “Seeing Ghosts: Crisis, Ruin, and the Creative Industries.” Continuum 33.5 (2019): 525-539. Courage, Cara, and Anita McKeown, eds. Creative Placemaking. Research, Theory and Practice. London: Routledge, 2019. De Beukelaer, Christiaan. “Friction in the Creative City.” Open Cultural Studies 5.1 (2021): 40-53. De Beukelaer, Christiaan, and Justin O’Connor. “The Creative Economy and the Development Agenda: The Use and Abuse of ‘Fast Policy’.” Contemporary Perspectives on Art and International Development. Eds. Polly Stupples and Katerina Teaiwa. London: Routledge, 2016. 27-47. De Certeau, Michel. “Walking in the City.” The Practice of Everyday Life. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984. 91-105. De Peuter, Greig, Kate Oakley, and Madison Trusolino. “The Pandemic Politics of Cultural Work: Collective Responses to the COVID-19 Crisis.” International Journal of Cultural Policy (2022). DOI: 10.1080/10286632.2022.2064459. Dorling, Danny. Slowdown: The End of the Great Acceleration. New Haven: Yale UP, 2020. Fisher, Mark. The Ghosts of My Life. London: Zero Books, 2014. Florida, Richard. The Rise of the Creative Class. New York: Basic Books, 2002. ———. The New Urban Crisis. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2017. Foundational Economy Collective, The (FEC). Foundational Economy. Manchester: Manchester UP, 2022. Harvey, David. “The Geopolitics of Capitalism.” Social Relations and Spatial Structures. Eds. Derek Gregory and John Urry. Houndmills and London: Macmillan, 1985. 128-163. Hatherley, Owen. Red Metropolis. Socialism and the Government of London. London: Repeater Books, 2020. Jameson, Frederic. Postmodernism, or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism. London: Verso, 1991. Landry, Charles. The Creative City: A Toolkit for Urban Innovators. 2nd ed. London: Routledge, 2008. Marshall, Thomas H. Citizenship and Social Class. New York: Cambridge UP, 1950. Meyrick, Julian, and Tully Barnett. “From Public Good to Public Value: Arts and Culture in a Time of Crisis.” Cultural Trends 30.1 (2020): 75–90. Mieville, China. The City & the City. London: Pan Macmillan, 2009. Mould, Oli. Urban Subversion and the Creative City. London: Routledge, 2015. ———. Against Creativity. New York: Verso Books, 2018. Morozov, Evgeny. “Critique of Techno-Feudal Reason.” New Left Review 133.4 (2022): 89-126. Novy, Johannes, and Claire Colomb. “Struggling for the Right to the (Creative) City in Berlin and Hamburg: New Urban Social Movements, New ‘Spaces of Hope’?” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 37 (2013): 1816–1838. Oakley, Kate. “Not So Cool Britannia: The Role of the Creative Industries in Economic Development.” International Journal of Cultural Studies 7.1 (2004): 67-77. O’Connor, Justin. “Art as Industry.” 20 June 2020. <https://wakeinalarm.blog/2020/06/20/art-as-industry/>. ———. “Music as Industry.” Music, The Arts and The World. Loudmouth: Music Trust e-Magazine. 1 May 2021 <https://musictrust.com.au/loudmouth/music-as-industry/>. ———. Reset: Art, Culture and the Foundational Economy. 2022. <https://resetartsandculture.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/CP3-Working-Paper-Art-Culture-and-the-Foundational-Economy-2022.pdf>. O’Connor, Justin, and Kate Shaw. “What Next for the Creative City.” City, Culture and Society 5 (2014): 165-170. O’Connor, Justin, and Xin Gu. Red Creative: Culture and Modernity in China. Bristol: Intellect, 2020. Pacella, Jessica, Susan Luckman, and Justin O’Connor. “Fire, Pestilence and the Extractive Economy: Cultural Policy after Cultural Policy." Cultural Trends 30.1 (2021): 40-51. Peck, Jamie. “Political Economies of Scale: Fast Policy, Interscalar Relations, and Neoliberal Workfare.” Economic Geography 78 (2002): 331–360. ———. “Struggling with the Creative Class.” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 29.4 (2005): 740-770. ———. “The Creativity Fix.” Variant 34 (2009): 5-9. Peck, Jamie, and Kevin Ward, eds. City of Revolution: Restructuring Manchester. Manchester UP, 2002. Peck, Jamie, Nick Theodore, and Nick Brenner. “Neoliberal Urbanism Redux?” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 37 (2013): 1091–1099. Pratt, Andy. “The Cultural and Creative industries: Organisational and Spatial Challenges to their Governance.” Die Erde 143.4 (2012): 317–334. Porter, Libby, and Kate Shaw, eds. Whose Urban Renaissance? London: Routledge, 2013. Raworth, Kate. Doughnut Economics. White River Junction, VT: Chelsea Green Publishing, 2017. Roy, Arundhati. “The Pandemic Is a Portal.” Life & Arts. Financial Times 4 Apr. 2020. <https://www.ft.com/content/10d8f5e8-74eb-11ea-95fe-fcd274e920ca>. Shaw, Kate. “Can Artists Revive Dead City Centres? Without Long-Term Tenancies It’s Window Dressing.” Arts + Culture. The Conversation 27 Oct. 2021. <https://theconversation.com/can-artists-revive-dead-city-centres-without-long-term-tenancies-its-window-dressing-169822>. Scott, Allen John. "Beyond the Creative City: Cognitive-Cultural Capitalism and the New Urbanism.” Regional Studies 48.4 (2014): 565-578. Tanghetti, Jessica, Roberta Comunian, and Tamsyn Dent. “‘Covid-19 Opened the Pandora Box’ of the Creative City: Creative and Cultural Workers against Precarity in Milan.” Cambridge Journal of Regions, Economy and Society 2022. <https://doi.org/10.1093/cjres/rsac018>. Thompson, Matthew. “What’s So New about New Municipalism?” Progress in Human Geography 45.2 (2020): 317-342 Whiting, Sam, and Rosie Roberts. “The Impact of COVID-19 on Music Venues in Regional South Australia: A Case Study.” Perfect Beat (2021). Whitney, Karl. Hit Factories: A Journey through the Industrial Cities of British Pop. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2019.

Cette thèse a pour objet l’étude d’une des publications phare de la transition espagnole, la revue Vindicación Feminista. Née quelques mois après la mort du dictateur Francisco Franco, la publication réunit quelques-unes des figures les plus importantes du milieu intellectuel catalan mais aussi des femmes aux trajectoires professionnelles prestigieuses et des militantes anti-franquistes de longue date. Elle se détache tant par la qualité et la diversité des sujets traités que par son esthétique soignée et son intérêt pour les combats des femmes dans le monde. Nous postulons que l’existence d’un objet culturel – la revue Vindicación Feminista –, support d’une pensée féministe radicale semblant déjà bien aboutie en 1976 et 1977, a été rendue possible grâce à un long travail préparatoire durant la dictature. La mise en lumière des biographies des collaboratrices de Vindicación ainsi que des liens unissant les rédactrices entre elles et avec d’autres collectifs et revues étrangères permet de faire ressortir l’existence d’une communauté féministe d’avant-garde et de replacer le mouvement féministe espagnol et notamment le courant radical dans le cadre d’un phénomène plus vaste, transnational, la dénommée « deuxième vague du féminisme ». Mais Vindicación Feminista prend aussi une part active dans les combats pour la restauration des libertés démocratiques de sorte qu’elle peut aussi être interprétée comme étant une revue anti-franquiste à proprement parler. C’est à la croisée de ces deux traditions : anti-franquisme et féminisme de la deuxième vague, que s’élabore le discours de la revue
This thesis aims to study one of the flagship publications of the Spanish transition, the magazine Vindicación Feminista. Established a few months after the death of the dictator Francisco Franco, the publication brings together some of the most important figures of the Catalan intellectual community as well as women with prestigious careers and long-standing anti-Franco activists. The magazine stands out both for the quality and diversity of the subjects discussed, as well as its refined aesthetic and focus on women’s struggles around the world. We submit that the existence of such cultural artefact, which was already consolidated in 1976 and 1977 and supported a radical feminist school of thought, emerged thanks to extensive groundwork laid by feminists during the dictatorship. An examination of the biographies of Vindicación collaborators, and the ties among its editors, other collectives and foreign magazines make it possible to identify the existence of a feminist avant-garde community and to place the Spanish feminist movement, and in particular its radical stream, within the framework of a larger, transnational phenomenon, the so-called “second-wave feminism”. Because Vindicación Feminista also takes an active part in the fight for the restoration of democratic liberties, it can also be interpreted as an anti-Francoist magazine strictly speaking. Indeed, the magazine’s central narrative lies at the cross-roads of these two traditions: second-wave feminism and anti-Franco resistance