comics and convergence part four

This is the final in a series of outtakes from Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide dealing with the ways that the comics industry is responding to shifts in the media landscape. This segment deals with how we pay for digital content. Reading back through this, this section felt less au current than the other excerpts on comics I have posted here. When he spoke at MIT last week, Scott McCloud, himself, conceded that micropayments have not so far taken off in the ways that he had hoped and that other business models were emerging to support online content. To bring us up to speed on the latest developments in this area, I have arranged to run an interview tomorrow with industry observer Todd Allen, about recent trends in the digital distribution of comics.

Long touted as an alternative economic model for the web, micropayments (small incremental charges for accessing content) may be ideally designed to support webcomics. In 2003, Scott McCloud joined forces with BitPass, to test the viability of this economic model, posting "The Right Number," one of his most interesting webcomics and charging consumers a quarter to access each installment. Subscribers go to the BitPass homepage, enter their credit card information one time and buy the digital equivalent of a debit card, which can be used quickly and easily with any of the affiliated venders. McCloud argues that a micropayment system would allow media producers (recording artists, independent game designers, web comics artists, authors) to sell their content directly to the consumers, cutting out many layers of middle folk, adjusting prices for the lowered costs of production and distribution in the digital environment. Such a system helps both consumers, who can sample from a range of different media producers without being locked into a subscription, and artists, who can collect a reasonable return on their work.

So far, content providers are using micropayments to set their own prices at a level they think their market will bear. In some cases, where consumers want to build an ongoing relationship with a particular content provider, subscriptions will represent a better alternative, whereas in others, we may prefer to pay for only the content we want to access. Most readers subscribe to some magazines and purchase others off the news stand when they have content which seems interesting or when they have time to read.

Most will subscribe to a finite range of web content - just as most of us subscribe to only a few (if any) premium cable services. An economy based exclusively on subscriptions will evolve over time towards media concentration. Only rarely do alternative artists get their acts together to form subscription-based services. In the case of web comics, for example, a number of independent artists have teamed up to create Modern Tales, a subscription based service which for $2.95 a month provides unlimited access to the work of more than 30 alternative comics creators. Micropayments, however, would support the fragmentation and diversification of web content, allowing a broader range of producers to compete for our entertainment dollars.

People who like comics tend to read a broad selection and are often willing to try unknown artists if the content is cheap and accessible. One can imagine micropayments thriving within niche media communities: hardcore gamers can use micropayments the way they use tokens in an arcade; techno fans might think of themselves as plopping quarters in a well-stocked jukebox and for digital movie fans, this could represent a return to the nickelodeon era. Micropayments will be most attractive where a range of small scale producers are trying to service the needs of committed and motivated consumers, where the reputation of certain pioneers (such as McCloud) will generate an initial market and create coat-tails for other less well-known artists, and where the price point remains lower than can be accommodated by traditional credit cards.

By early 2005, Bitpass had attracted a range of different content providers - from experimental filmmakers to comics artists and rock groups, from online games to educational software. The little company had not taken over the web, to be sure, but it was showing that the micropayment model worked in a range of different contexts.

For some counterperspectives on Micropayments, see Todd Allen and Clay Shirkey.

The Education of Sky McCloud

Last Thursday, the Comparative Media Studies Program and the MIT Media Lab played host to Scott McCloud, the comics theorist, creator, entrepreneur, activist, and visionary, who traced for us the progression of his thinking about comics as a medium -- from his first book, Understanding Comics, which gave us a language for thinking about sequential art, through Reinventing Comics, which argued that digital media represented important new opportunities for comics creators and readers, through to Making Comics, which offers practical advice to would-be comics writers and artists and in the process, lays out some important new arguments about the role of choice and styles in graphic storytelling. As McCloud noted, he first spoke in that same room 12 years before in the wake of the first book's publication and I have helped to bring him back to MIT on several other occassions. Indeed, we were lucky enough to have him do a week long workshop for our students several years ago when the ideas for Making Comics were first taking shape. So, with Scott, I knew what we were getting -- an articulate, empassioned, and visionary thinker about comics as a medium, whose work has implications for anyone who thinks seriously about the popular arts. McCloud engaged thoughtfully with questions from the MIT community on everything from the economics of online publishing to the potentials for comics on mobile platforms, from the design of tools for making art to the evolving visual language of the medium. I certainly recommend checking out the audio recording of his presentation and question and answer period.

Yet, the big surprise of the evening was Scott's 13 year old daughter, Sky McCloud. When Scott first asked if his daughter could make her own presentation following his opening remarks, we were not sure what to expect but immediately agreed.

The last time I had seen Sky, she was a toddler interupting her father's talk at Harvard's Veracon. Today, she is a dynamic young woman - a delightful mix of goth and geek -- who felt self confident enough to share her own perspective in front of a packed Bartos auditorium crammed with several hundred MIT and Harvard types.

She told us about the family's plans to do a 50 state speaking tour over the next year as her father rolls out his new book and as the family (Scott, his wife, Ivy, and his daughters, Sky and Winter) conduct an experiment in home schooling. Each member of the family is blogging about the trip over on Live Journal. And they are working together to produce a series of podcasts which they are calling Winterviews (after youngest daughter, Winter, who will be the on-camera presence in these films). The daughters will research about some of the comics people they will meet along the way, read and discuss some of their work, prepare questions, do interviews, and edit them for transmission via the web. Sky is also preparing an evolving powerpoint presentation as they travel to explain to various audiences about the trip and what they have learned along the way.

Meanwhile, she remains in contact with a larger circle of home schooled kids who are also tapping into their interests in popular culture (in this case, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Veronica Mars) to inform critical essays and research projects. We all concluded that Sky could be a poster child for the new media literacies we have been exploring through our project with the MacArthur Foundation -- someone who is tapping the full range of new media technologies to learn and share what she is learning with a larger community. Sky is incredibly articulate, holding her own debating the fine points of comics aesthetics with her dad and fully comfortably plopping herself down and conversing with a room full of graduate students. We were delighted to hear her say she was potentially interested in being an MIT student some day. She won the hearts of many of us here.

Let's be clear: Sky is an exceptional child, the offspring of a remarkable man, and her parents have had the flexibility to incorporate her learning (and that of her sister) into their professional lives. Not just everyone can take off for a year and travel the country with their family and still take in an income from speaking gigs. Yet, the core of what they are accomplishing here should be part of the educational experience of every child -- what she is learning grows organically from her own interests; she is being encouraged to express herself across a range of different media; she is encouraged to translate what she is learning back into public communication and is empowered to believe that what she thinks may matter to others. As I have suggested in a blog post this summer, these experiences are so far more available outside of the formal educational system through afterschool programming and home schooling than they are in the public classroom. Like many other home schoolers we have encountered through our research, she is using the potentials of new media both for creative expression and social networking.

I know that I make some people nervous when I talk here about the values of home schooling. Many people assume that home schooling is mostly used today by the religious right to escape secular education. But in fact, today's home schoolers come from many different backgrounds and are stepping outside of formal education for many different reasons. More and more kids are moving in and out of schools depending on where they are at in their emotional, social, and intellectual development or what kind of situation they are confronting in their local community. My wife and I home schooled our son for a year when he was Sky's age and oddly enough, one of his primary textbooks was Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics, but at the end of that year, he returned to a private school for the rest of his high school experience. I am not suggesting everyone should home school their kids. Most people should not. But I am glad that it is an option and I think that educators should study what is working in these home school contexts and pull the best of it back into their pedagogical practices. As they do so, they could learn a lot by listening to Sky McCloud speak about her experiences on the webcast of the event.

The World of Reality Fiction

In Convergence Culture, I included a sidebar about the remarkable fan fiction produced by Mario Lanza. Lanza is a fan who gets to consult with and often receive fan letters from the characters who populate his stories. Lanza writes fan fiction involving the contestants featured on Survivor -- a series of engaging, richly detailed, psychologically nuanced original "seasons" cast with "all stars" known to readers from their previous appearances on the series. At the time he started writing reality fan fiction, the idea of combining elements of reality television with narrative fiction might have seemed more than a little odd. Today, though, there is a growing body not only of amateur but also professional fiction which borrows elements from reality television. I asked my son, Henry Jenkins IV, to share with my readers some of his impressions about this emerging genre. Henry recently graduated from the University of Arizona where he studied media and creative writing. He has already published several essays of his own media analysis, including one in Nick Sammond's anthology, Steel Chair to the Head, which traces his experiences growing up watching professional wrestling, and another -- a father/son dialogue on Buffy the Vampire Slayer -- which is included in my new book, Fans, Gamers, and Bloggers. He has been very active in the spoiling and fan writing communities around Survivor through the years and so brings an insider's perspective to this topic.

What follows are his thoughts about reality fiction:

To the impartial observer reality television fiction sounds about as reasonable as tofu turkey. Both are wince inducing contradictions of an irreverently modern consumer culture in which seemingly clueless marketers cater to niche audiences with a cheeky disregard for tradition. The same literati crowd who rolled their eyes and sighed when CBS producers borrowed George Orwell's phrase to create the low culture Big Brother would probably sniff indignantly at me if I told them about my efforts to write an original Survivor novel. "Reality cannot be fictional. Please, go away."

But on the Survivor Sucks message boards, by far the most active for reality television fandom, dozens of amateur writers have tried their hand at penning the next great American Survivor novel. Only a few have produced novel length works of any real literary value but much like science fiction fandoms, for which zine trading has at times been a viable cottage industry, the interest is there and a cannon of great fan authors, archived works and literary conventions has been compiled by consensus.

The earliest Survivor fan fiction, not surprisingly, was badly written pornography. But Mario Lanza, a family man, computer programmer and aspiring comedy writer from Southern California, was the first to really popularize fan fiction in reality television circles. His four novels, All Star Survivor: Hawaii, All Star Survivor: Alaska, All Star Survivor: Greece and Survivor: Okinawa, were all of a Stephen King-esque length (about six hundred pages) and are still considered the gold standard by which all other authors are judged.

The All Star novels speculated about what might happen if the best and most memorable characters from the early seasons of the show were put into competition with each other. They were sort of the equivalent of comic book fans speculating "Who would win in a real fight, Batman or Aquaman?" They could also very easily be perceived as having generated the fan buzz producers' cited in their decision to try the concept out during their eighth season.

Mario's fourth novel, Survivor: Okinawa, cast real fans (including myself) in the role of the castaways, chronicling a month long game that took place online. The contestants competed in real time with the conditions mirroring those of the real competitions as closely as possible considering that we were all stationed thousands of miles apart. Daily reports were required explaining how we had contributed to the work around camp, strategy meetings took place off and on all day, a certain number of points could be allocated or reserved from each competition and most importantly the tribe that lost the Immunity Challenge would have to vote one of their members out of the game.

The mood of the game was surprisingly, at times almost disturbingly intense with real egos at stake. The knowledge that every word one said had the potential to be judged by the entire fan community put a lot of pressure on people to avoid being played for a fool and the result was a constant atmosphere of paranoia. Almost all of the contestants participating ended up with very mixed feelings about having done so. The ones who were voted out early were embarrassed and the ones who lasted the longest endured such prolonged angst that they needed a vacation by the end of it. Mario unflinchingly turned thousands of pages of conversation transcripts and emails into his most ambitious novel yet and the competing fans developed fans (and detractors) of their own.

As a side note, Mario was not the first to hold such a competition. He himself had only recently been a competitor in Survivor: Tonga, a game run by a Brown student named Rafe Judkins who would shock everyone when he himself was chosen as a contestant on the real life Survivor: Guatemala. Many both in the online community and the cast of the show consider Judkins the best strategist of his season and his online game no doubt allowed him to run an insightful simulation of what might occur on the island

Afterwards many tried to follow in Mario's footsteps but very few succeeded because no template was established for what Survivor short fiction would look like (nor for any other reality series) and the commitment and endurance necessary to write a six hundred page novel was simply beyond most of the amateur writers. Countless projects were begun and then abandoned a few chapters in (to a chorus of boos). A climate of cynicism reigned among readers who had been suckered in once too often and the low readership further discouraged fan authors.

One of the few truly successful efforts to follow Mario's was a series started by a young fan known only as GuatemalaFanfic or GF. He used a different template than the All Star model that many had attempted to emulate and instead of writing the story as literature he attempted to recreate the style of the show as accurately as possible. He wrote his episodes in sixty minute script format, throwing in moments of inaudible dialogue, background conversation and song cues. He also took careful analysis that other fans had done of the way that the producers told stories - when they focused on the characters that would succeed and when they focused on those who would fail - and challenged his readers to observe what templates his was using and how the game would play out. He also differed from Mario's formula in that instead of bringing together characters from different seasons of the show he used all of the characters of the season that was currently being broadcast, writing a kind of alternate history with a different set of storylines and outcomes.

Much like GuatemalaFanfic I had been an avid fan of Mario's All Star novels, enjoying them at times more than the actual series, and like GuatemalaFanfic I was determined to beat the master at his own game. So I began writing Survivor: Belize, a novel adhering as closely as possible to what I imagined the standards and specifications of original television novels to be, with the hopes of selling it for publication to CBS' publishing company. Because it would most likely have been perceived as slander to put words in the mouths of real life individuals I created a completely original cast of characters.

My biggest challenge came in introducing sixteen characters at the same time without the audience throwing up their hands in frustration. This is, of course, a challenge any reality series faces but I didn't have the benefit of using audio/visual clues such as contestants' faces and voices as memory jogs. I eventually decided on a two pronged approach for tackling these issues. First, I wouldn't try to familiarize audiences with all sixteen characters at the same time. I would take a page from the series' book and focus only on a manageable number of characters in each episode, working everyone in eventually as the numbers began to dwindle later in the story. Secondly, I would use visual clues by inserting a section of my contestants' headshots and biographies, mirroring the CBS.com website in style and content. Since most of the characters were based on people I knew, anyway, finding appropriate models wouldn't be hard.

I was in the middle of working on my project just before Christmas last year, toggling between my word processor and my online shopping, when I ran into a product line that made my jaw drop -original Survivor novels. There they were on Amazon.com, recently released. Not sure whether to be encouraged or discouraged I ordered a set to put under the tree.

This set of novels differed significantly from my own idea in that they were aimed at preteen readers and they followed a Choose Your Own Adventure format. Since I'd been a huge fan of the Choose Your Own Adventure books when I was in grade school these provided a charming bit of nostalgia but my concern that making the castaways all ten or twelve years old would really water down the story proved valid. Not only did the writers' take the teeth out of the game - providing the contestants with lots of kid friendly food, having them compete in little mock challenges and leaving strategy simple if explained at all - but the character development was wafer thin.

The most interesting thing about the books was easily the format, which allowed the reader to flip to one page or another depending on who they wanted to be booted from the game or which challenge they wanted the castaways to compete in. But because the writers tried to cram so many different possible routes into a 120 page book they had to cut each version of the entire game down to a miniscule number of pages that could not sustain a solidly built story. While aiming the series at younger readers is a surprising but not inherently stupid idea I feel like the series' editors choice to low ball the series was ill advised. A notable percentage of Mario Lanza's All Star novel fans were of the age that these books seemed to be aimed at but they never complained that they were overwhelmed by the difficulty of the content or bored by the grown up nature of the contestants.

A few weeks ago I ran into a book review in Time Magazine for Carolyn Parkhurst's Lost and Found, a literary novel about "an Amazing Race style reality show" which, we were told, explored the human condition in a way "crappy" reality series never could. Despite being annoyed at the anti-popular culture bias of the review and mildly disappointed that someone else had once again preceded me I was dying to pick up the book on my next trip into town. I wanted it to succeed where the young reader novels had failed, to capture the sense of excitement of great reality television, the immediacy and unpredictability. I wanted to see how Parkhurst tackled all of the questions I'd been working through in the first hundred and fifty pages of my spec novel. Would she capture the impression of reality with adverbs and imagination?

The answer? Only somewhat, but Lost and Found is a pretty good book anyway. Where it succeeds is in vividly portraying a small number of core characters' psyches, a crucial aspect of almost any story. Where it fails is in capturing the appeal of reality television as distinct from other forms of storytelling. There's virtually no suspense about the outcome of the game in the entire novel. A lot of the supporting characters are never so much as given a chance to speak. That obviously isn't a goal the writer sought and failed at, it's something they never tried to do.

The book's ambivalence towards the subject matter was fairly interesting and from my vantage point seems frank without being unfair even if it came across as slightly apologetic. Parkhrurst's reality television producers are cold blooded and opportunistic but her other characters understand that and, in all but one case, don't seem offended by it. They all have motivations of their own for taking part. Just like in real life some, such as the so-called 'ex-gays', compete in order to present a sociopolitical agenda before an international audience; others, such as the former child stars, do it to gain visibility in the entertainment world; while still others, such as the mother and daughter team, do it for the adventure and the escape from their ever day lives. In order to gain a sense of perspective on the industry Parkurst collected stories from two former competitors, Shii Ann Huang (Survivor:Thailand and Survivor:All-Stars) and Zachary Behr (The Amazing Race); and consequently some of the details, such as the camera operator who no one wants to work with because of his offensive smell, ring true.

One creative choice Parkhurst makes that seems a central issue of such novels is to focus on the mechanics of the production directly (and constantly) rather than avoiding the subject. Crew members such as camera people and handlers are supporting characters. The host is frequently described while she prepares for her next monologue. A production meeting is transcribed at one point. The Survivor Choose Your Own Adventure novels, by comparison, act almost as though there was no television production, focusing exclusively on the action 'inside' the TV box.

I myself found it useful at points to reference stages of the production that didn't appear on screen such as the casting interviews and the airing of the episodes but considered that level of self-reflexivity fair game because the show's host, Jeff Probst, talks openly about such things in media teleconferences and at the live reunion shows. Parkhurst tends to use descriptions of the production primarily in the pejorative sense to talk about the artifice of reality television where as I am more interested in the dual experiences of the castaways who are both experiencing some very real challenges such as hunger, exhaustion and the social game and at the same time going through the emotional mill of being put on display in front of seventeen million people.

At one point one of my characters is really torn between voting out a woman who shares her mother's cultural values or one who's everything her mother is against. She knows that her family and their entire neighborhood is going to one day be watching this play out on television and they're going to judge her for the choices she makes; and that leaves her sleepless at night. To me putting the game in such a context doesn't detract from the reality of the emotion, it adds to it.

Reality television fiction is at a really interesting point right now because the rules haven't been established yet. Does one use the same number of contestants as you would on a reality series or is that too many to keep track of? Do some shows work better for prose than others or not at all? If a short format isn't going to try to cover an entire game then what should it look like? How does one write a novel covering an entire game without exceeding a standard 350 page book length? Can new series be created for fiction and, if so, could a work of reality fiction ever be optioned for television production? With Battle Royal and Series 7 we're already starting to see how movies could recreate reality TV. But what other types of movies could be written that playoff of that idea? The opportunity to shape the conventions of the micro-genre is there for whoever steps up to the plate.

How to Watch a Fan-Vid

I am always fascinated when some bit of bottom-up generated "content" starts to get momentum and gain greater public visibility. This past few weeks, I have been observing a ground-swell of interest in a Star Trek fan video set to Nine Inch Nails's "Closer." Many of you will have already seen this video. It has already been featured by Cory Doctorow at Boing Boing, by Susie Bright, and by Salon's VideoDog among others. As someone who has done work in the past on Star Trek fans, I have received multiple pointers to this video from friends all over the world. Many of the people who sent it to me and certainly many of the bloggers who have pointed to it seem to have little or no awareness that there is a much larger tradition of fan-made videos or that the video makers, T. Jonsey and Killa have produced a larger body of work that circulates within the fanvid community. As artists, they are known for their sophisticated techniques and intelligent use of appropriated materials as well as for their diversity of approaches to their subject matter.

It is the nature of YouTube that the work which appears there could come from almost anywhere and that it is often consumed outside of its originating content: YouTube is the place right now where work travels from one grassroots community or subculture to another. There are real advantages to such a site since it results in cross-influences and more innovation, experimentation, and diversity, yet there are also losses to this process of decoupling amateur media from its original contexts of production and consumption.

Technical Innovation and Grassroots Media

Given that I have been following the development of fan-made music videos for more than fifteen years now, I thought it might be helpful if I spelled out some of what I saw when I looked at this particular segment. Through the years, I have watched dozens of hours of these videos, produced within a broad range of fandoms. In fact, my book, Textual Poachers: Television Fans and Participatory Culture, published in 1992, already contains a full chapter tracing the aesthetics and production practices surrounding fan music videos.

At the time I wrote that chapter, fan music videos were made using two vcrs and patch cords. The only real way for most participants to edit the material was through transferring from one machine to the other. The biggest challenges artists faced were rollback and rainbow lines. Making videos under these conditions took a great deal of preplanning and an even greater amount of patience. The best video artists were perfectionists who would redo their projects many times to insure the smoothest transitions. The typical video could take six to eight hours to produce and more elaborate ones might take a great deal longer. Despite these technical limitations, some of the top video makers produced many hours of these videos which they would show primarily at fan conventions. There was some limited distribution -- they would personally copy the videos one by one for people who asked really nicely. They actively discouraged recopying of their material to pass to others because it would further degrade the quality of their work but of course, a good deal of underground trading of this content took place. Digital production tools have allowed for greater formal complexity and visual sophistication, including layering of images through lap dissolves, superimposition, multiple frame shots, and other digital manipulations, subtle manipulations of speed, lip-syncing of words and images and other forms of "mickeymousing," and so forth.

Fifteen years ago, I was presenting the work of these video makers at places like Interval Computing and the MIT Media Lab arguing that we should be paying attention to what these amateur media makers were doing when it was hard, nearly impossible, to accomplish so that we might predict affordances that should be built into the next generation of media tools. Today, we are seeing amateur media makers everywhere. Sites like YouTube have emerged to support their work and there is a public interested in seeing amateur-made work almost without regard to its origins or genre.

The Aesthetics of Fan Music Videos

I wonder if this particular song video would have generated the buzz that it has if it was not set to the music of Nine Inch Nails. The urban cool and the rough-hewn images of this video contrast sharply with people's expectations about the aesthetics of Star Trek fan art. In popular mythology, Trekkers are geeks, not rockers. The earliest fan music videos might have reconfirmed those stereotypes: the most commonly used songs were slow-paced and sappy, pop not rock, though artists explained this was in part because of the difficulty of doing rapid edits using the tools that they have had at their disposal. As these fans have embraced new digital tools, the overall pace of fan made videos has quickened. This, and the emergence of a younger generation of fans with taste for alternative music, has broadened the choice of songs. We are seeing many more hard-edged songs find their way into fan culture.

For the book, I interviewed a pioneering video artist, identified in Textual Poachers as MVD. MVD described her videos as "half-and-half things," neither "a Reader's Digest of the shows we love" nor "fancy pictures to entertain the eye while we listen to our favorite music." She explained:

Images pull out the words, emphasize the words, just as the words emphasize the pictures. If I've done a good job with a video, I can portray an emotion and I can hold that emotion throughout the song. I can bring a new level of depth to that emotion through my images and I can make you think about the program in a different way.

MVD suggested that the best fan videos could produce "layers of meaning," being accessible at first glance to anyone with a casual familiarity with the program, offering a deeper experience to anyone who knew the program well, and a still deeper experience to someone who has been part of the fan community's discussions around the show or read through the fan fiction surrounding a particular set of character relationships. MVD drew a distinction between convention videos, designed to be watched publicly in a general audience, and living room videos, designed to be watched in an intimate space by a group of friends who are already deeply immersed in the lore of a particular fan culture:

They can't take the complex ones in a large group. They get hyper. They aren't concentrating that deeply. They want to all laugh together or they want to share their feelings. So it's got to be obvious enough that the people around them will share those emotions....The living room video is designed to be so complicated that you'd better know everything about the show or it isn't going to make much sense. These videos are for a very small in-group that already understands what you are trying to say. It's like fan writing. You don't have to build up this entire world. You can rely on certain information.

MVD, at the time, could not have imagined what it might mean to watch a fan-made music video totally outside of the cultural context which fandom provided -- to come across it on YouTube or Boing Boing and not have any access to the conversations which shaped these particular appropriations. For one thing, "Closer" is apt to be understood within fandom as a "constructed reality" video -- that is, it creates a new story by linking together shots from the original series as opposed to using those shots simply to interpret or provide an alternative emotional perspective on events already depicted in the aired episodes. Such "constructed reality" works are extremely rare because they are so difficult to do well.

Such works certainly interpret the original series but not in a sense that would be recognized by most Literature teachers. They are not simply trying to recover what the original producers meant. They are trying to entertain hypotheticals, address what if questions, and propose alternative realities. Part of the pleasure of fan made media is seeing the same situations through multiple points of view, reading the same characters in radically different ways. The same artist might offer multiple constructions of the characters and their relationships across different works -- simply to keep alive this play with different readings.

As one fan quoted in my new book, Convergence Culture, explains,

What I love about fandom is the freedom we have allowed ourselves to create and recreate our characters over and over again. Fanfic rarely sits still. It's like a living, evolving thing, taking on its own life, one story building on another, each writer's reality bouncing off another's and maybe even melding together to form a whole new creation. A lot of people would argue that we're not creative because we build on someone else's universe rather than coming up with our own. However, I find that fandom can be extremely creative because we have the ability to keep changing our characters and giving them new life over and over. We can kill and resurrect them as often as we like. We can change their personalities and how they react to situations. We can take a character and make him charming and sweet or cold-blooded and cruel. We can give them an infinite, always-changing life rather than the single life of their original creation. We have given ourselves license to do whatever we want and it's very liberating.

"Closer," like other fanvids, was constructed as part of a conversation which the fan artists were having with the original text, with its authors, with other fans, and with themselves, whereas the video as seen outside of this context seems singular and unique. Or conversely, the video is read symptomatically -- as speaking for all Star Trek fans when in fact, it borrows in some ways and breaks in others from the norms of this community.

Recurring Images

MVD was one of a number of pioneering video makers who took on the responsibility to pass their skills onto other women interested in working in the medium. She would host slumber parties at her house in Western Massachusetts where women would bring their vcrs and tapes and learn from each other. As I suggest in Convergence Culture, a lot of fan culture looks like folk culture processes applied to mass media content and these gathering have the feel of traditional quilting bees.

Through this process, the community started to distill the hundreds of hours of episodes around a series like Star Trek into recurring shots which carried a greater deal of emotional resonance and meaning to members of the community. These shots get used again and again, combined in new ways, mixed with different songs and lyrics, taking on different connotations and associations. The best of them remained highly potent. When I first watched the "Closer" video, I was struck by what a high percentage of the shots used there were part of the vocabulary of fan music video producers of fifteen years ago. Don't believe me -- check out the photographs from MVD's "I Needed You" which I reproduced on pages 240-243 of Textual Poachers. Almost all of them appear in "Closer."

Slash This

One reason that so many of these shots reappear is that they evoke a particular interpretation of the original material. Keep in mind that in many cases, these videos are watched by people who are also reading fan fiction and thus have come to understand the relationship between Kirk and Spock within the terms of the fan subgenre known as Slash. I was struck by how many bloggers referenced slash in relation to this video -- the term is now known, but not widely understood, by many outside of the fan community itself. In Fans, Bloggers, and Gamers (which collects my previously published essays on participatory culture), I include "The Normal Female Interest in Men Bonking," a collection of brief theoretical and critical statements about slash as a genre made by slash fan readers and writers which help to explain the persistence and popularity of this cultural practice.

For the moment, let's say that slash is a form of fan-generated romance which centers on the relationship between two same sex (most often male) characters appropriated from the realm of popular fiction. Kirk and Spock were probably the original slash couple but slash did not become slash until the idea of same sex relations moved from Kirk and Spock to a whole range of other pairings. Before that, it was simply K/S with the slash standing in for a sexual relationship. K&S would have referred to a passionate but asexual friendship between the same characters. The people who write and read slash are mostly women -- women of varied sexual orientations and interests -- who see their work as bringing to the surface emotional dynamics that were masked in the original material.

Think about all of the times that Kirk would woo some blue-skinned woman and then abandon her again, insisting that his obligations to his ship and his crew would outweigh his personal romantic interests. Then consider what happens again and again across the series and the films whenever Spock is put at risk. Kirk will sacrifice his ship, his crew, his rank, everything he has, to get Spock back. There's no question that his emotional commitment to Spock is the most important relationship in his life, even if the two men rarely speak directly about what that friendship means to them.

One of the most powerful moments in all of Star Trek comes in The Wrath of Khan when Spock finally puts into words his friendship for Kirk and gives his life to save the Enterprise. This scene seems key to understanding the emotional dynamics of slash, as I suggested in the Fans, Gamers, and Bloggers essay mentioned earlier:

When I try to explain slash to non-fans, I often reference that moment in Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan where Spock is dying and Kirk stands there, a wall of glass separating the two longtime buddies. Both of them are reaching out towards each other, their hands pressed hard against the glass, trying to establish physical contact. They both have so much they want to say and so little time to say it. Spock calls Kirk his friend, the fullest expression of their feelings anywhere in the series. Almost everyone who watches that scene feels the passion the two men share, the hunger for something more than what they are allowed. And, I tell my nonfan listeners, slash is what happens when you take away the glass. The glass, for me, is often more social than physical; the glass represents those aspects of traditional masculinity which prevent emotional expressiveness or physical intimacy between men, which block the possibility of true male friendship. Slash is what happens when you take away those barriers and imagine what a new kind of male friendship might look like. One of the most exciting things about slash is that it teaches us how to recognize the signs of emotional caring beneath all the masks by which traditional male culture seeks to repress or hide those feelings.

Slash is a form of erotic writing, which differs from traditional male-targeted pornography, because it is more interested in the emotional rather than the physical lives of its characters. Readers and writers get off imagining the characters having sex in part because they see sex as enabling a form of intimacy between these men which is denied them on the program and denied most men within our culture. The construction of slash depends on reading certain looks and gestures exchanged amongst the characters as showing some hidden emotional truths and so song videos are often presented as visual evidence in support of a slash hypothesis about the series. Fans can point to the screen and say that you can see it in their eyes, these men really care about each other.

How Far to Pon Farr?

The opening title to "Closer" asks "What if they hadn't made it to Vulcan on time." This title references a specific tradition of pon farr stories. Pon Farr is the Vulcan mating season which occurs every seven years and is deeply disabilitating (can drive people insane or kill them if they do not make it back to their home planet and mate.) This concept emerged in the Classic ST episode, "Amok Time," written by science fiction writer Theodore Sturgeon. Many of the earliest K/S stories used pon farr as a device to push Kirk and Spock into bed with each other. Kirk surely would overcome his inhibitions about gay sex if doing so would allow him to save his friend's life. As slash became more widely accepted, there have been far fewer pon farr stories; the characters are no longer seen as requiring extreme situations to get them in bed together. So, in adopting this pon farr frame, "Closer" pays tribute to the foremothers of slash.

Pon Farr stories often contain suggestions of sexual violence -- as does "Closer" -- themes which remain highly controversial inside fan circles. I am certain that the images of sexual violence here (specifically drawn from the use of the Vulcan Mind Meld in the original series accompanied by lyrics about "violation," "desecration" and "penetration") account for why some viewers outside of fandom found this particular video disquieting. This video is disquieting to many fans because of its strong suggestion of rape.

Ose and More Ose

One striking feature of "Closer" is its angsty tone -- created in part by the choice of soundtrack, in part by the ragged and grainy reproduction of the images, and in part by the selection of images which stress the emotional distance rather than closeness of the protagonists. Fans have a term, "ose," that captures this emotional quality: it comes from the expression "ose and more ose" (i.e. morose).

A number of writers have suggested that they expected to laugh and were instead moved or disturbed by what they saw in this video. Fan music videos adopt a range of different tones -- some do indeed welcome the uncomfortable laughter when one first starts to reread these images outside of their original heterosexual inflections and start to appreciate the pleasure of appropriating these shots for alternative interpretations. Others affectionately poke fun at the protagonists, choosing their most foolish or clumsy moments or choosing images that look especially suggestive out of context. (T. Jonesy and Killa have produced a number of other Classic Trek vids which adopt these more comic and playful tones.) Others play it more seriously, teaching us to respect the emotional truths they find through their recontextualizing of these images. For me, "Closer" has a kind of emotional distance -- despite all of the angst -- that sets it apart from many other fan-made videos. Ironically, it is perhaps this emotional distance which has allowed many who are not Trek fans to embrace the aesthetics of this particular work. Many slash vids are hot -- this one is cool.

Porn Again?

Another striking feature of "Closer" is the insertion of porn shots amidst the footage taken from the original series. I have certainly seen this (relatively uncommon) practice among some fan music video makers but historically, such explicit videos did not circulate outside the fan community, so it was striking to see this practice out in public view. This is perhaps illustrative of what has happened as slash and fan vids have entered a networked culture. New people have been drawn to the form at a rate that strips the ability of the community to inculcate them into their norms. Old taboos are being shattered right and left often in highly public ways that would distress older fans who felt they had reasons for avoiding such public scrutiny.

Another striking aspect of "Closer" is that it is being circulated as publicly as it is. Several years ago, I sparked some controversy in the Star Wars fan cinema world when I argued that the rules of the official competition hosted by Atom films were gender-biased because they recognized forms of media production -- parody and documentary -- most closely associated with male fans and excluded outright those forms -- most notably music video -- most closely associated with female fans. Many of those angry by these statements asserted that they had never seen any films made by female Star Wars fans and that they were certain such works did not exist. I saw that as validation of my argument because I had seen a large number of music videos produced by female Star Wars fans which had not been able to get into public distribution. Those who had seen some of the music videos argued that they did not belong in the competition because they were "derivative," that is, because they used found footage. In fact, though, "Closer" shows pretty well that these fan media makers can generate original interpretations through their manipulation and recontextualization of these images. Whatever you want to say about it, "Closer" makes a statement about the original material.

When I did Poachers, the music video makers were the only fans who asked not to be named in the book: they were concerned because their raw materials drew clips directly from the films and television episodes but also drew songs from top recording artists. They felt most exposed to legal prosecution and felt they had the weakest case that their works would be protected under Fair Use.

Today, some of these women do share their videos via the web but without much fanfare, on sites that are only known within a relatively closed fan community. Fans have learned how to use the web to make their content accessible to those already in the know while decoupling their content from access via most search engine. It's quite likely that in the current case, the artists lost control over the circulation of "Closer" and that it went more public than they intended. That's also part of living in a world where amateur media often circulates virally and without any direct attribution. Few of the blogs which have mentioned "Closer" even acknowledge the artist's names even though they are featured prominently in the video itself and there may not have been an expectation that whoever posted it to YouTube needed to respect the artists' choices about where and how it should be distributed. We still accord much greater respect to commercial artists than grassroots artists. This is a video which has been circulating within fandom for some time without getting this level of public notice and so many fans have been started by its sudden visibility.

The circulation of "Closer" outside of the fan community is apt to be causing concern not only for the original creators of this material but also for many others within the fan community. I suspect their reactions are mixed.

On the one hand, it is exciting to see some work within this tradition get some public visibility and respect. On the other, its visibility increases the likelihood that the Powers that Be will come crashing down on the whole practice of fan music videos, there must be disappointment that it is being discussed outside of the larger context of many people producing work within this tradition, and there will be some concern that this work includes some controversial practices -- such as porn inserts or the themes of sexual violence -- that may further enflame the situation.

You may note that I am not offering links here to other fanvids. I have made it a policy not to send people to fan-produced material, even if it is on the web and therefore theoretically "public" without their permission. I am sending pointers to this video only because it is already the subject of such public circulation and discussion that not doing so would amount to closing the barn door after the cow have already gotten out.

Thanks to Cynthia Jenkins for her help in preparing this post.

Will Newspapers Survive?

For those of you who are living in or around the Boston area, I wanted to flag two events next week that will be hosted by the MIT Communications Forum and will be free and open to the public.

The Emergence of Citizens' Media

Tuesday, Sept 19

5-7 pm, Bartos Theater, MIT Media Lab

Speakers:

Alex Beam, Boston Globe

Ellen Foley, Wisconsin State Journal

Dan Gillmor, Center for Citizen Media

News, Information and the Wealth of Networks

Thursday, Sept 21

5-7 pm, MIT Building 3, Room 270 (3-270)

Yochai Benkler, The Wealth of Networks

Henry Jenkins, Convergence Culture

William Uricchio, MIT

The second panel emerged in part because USC anthropologist Mimi Ito wrote an interesting post in her blog comparing Convergence Culture and the Wealth of Networks after Yochai and I had visited her center about a week apart. Here's what she wrote:

Henry's Convergence Culture and Yochai's The Wealth of Networks, are the state of the art in thinking about new media and the Internet. Both provide both rich detail in the form of concrete cases as well as frameworks for understanding the social, technical, and economic changes coming down the pipeline that are both highly original and syncretic. But my goal at the moment is not to do a book review. I just want to ruminate on one thread of conversation that emerged from spending a day each with these thinkers and their texts.

Henry and Yochai are in many ways complementary thinkers who share an appreciation for the bottom-up, emergent, and viral forms of social organization emerging from the maturing media ecology of the Internet. Mostly they are in agreement about the scope and nature of the sweeping changes on the horizon as content turns digitally networked, and they both are actively participating in shaping these conditions of the future to be safer for the creative and knowledge production of everyday folks. But they also have some interesting differences....

Yochai also believes in the power of distributed intelligence and wired prosumers, and he sees amateur cultures such as fan cultural production as examples of "the wealth of networks." But his focus is on what he calls "nonmarket" forms of culture and knowledge production. If Henry's central cases are media fandom and alternative news, Yochai's are open source and distributed models of software and knowledge production such as Linux, Wikipedia, alternative news, and some forms of science (eg. bioinformatics, seti@home). He argues that the dominance of commercially produced forms of knowledge and culture is a historical anomaly, and we are in the midst of a correction that will give more weight to amateur, non-commercial and folk forms. In many ways his argument is probably more radical than what Henry or I might say about the promise of amateur and folk cultures. He sees everyday amateur producers as increasingly the source of generative forms of knowledge and culture, that provide a genuine alternative to commercial media.... At the end of the week, I think what it came down to for me was that this balance depends crucially on the specificities of the cultural forms in question. Yochai pointed out that his argument about distributed nonmarket production really focuses on cultural forms that can be easily decomposed, like software and encyclopedia entries. In his book, he talks about how even in the case of science textbooks, where it seems like this should work, the units are large enough that it is difficult to sustain as a volunteer effort. If we look at music, for example, amateur performance has always persisted because it is a media form that is amenable to local performance. Contrast that with something like feature films or the sustained multi-year (or at least season-long) narratives you get in an anime series, and you start moving into domains that require both a certain amount of capitalization as well as a sustained authorial viewpoint.

This will be the first time Benkler and Jenkins have appeared on stage together -- indeed, the first time we've met face to face. Benkler and I come from very different backgrounds but our books arrive at remarkably similar conclusions about participatory culture in a networked society. This is scheduled to be an unstructured conversation about what our two books might suggest about the future of journalism and civic media. I know we will have a lot to talk about.

For those of you who live outside the Boston area, these events will be available after the fact on streaming audio. I will provide information once the webcasts go up on line.

Cory Doctorow as Exemplar

Throughout the fall term, I am going to be sharing with readers more of the work we have been doing for the MacArthur Foundation on new media literacies, building up to the release of a significant new white paper in late October which makes the case for a new set of social skills and cultural competencies which we need to be incorporating into American education. We are already hard at work putting these ideas into practice, developing curricular activities and supporting materials that will help teachers and after school programs respond in more meaningful ways to the challenges and opportunities of the new participatory culture. One of our core projects is the development of an exemplar library. When we spoke with teachers and after school programs, it was clear that they recognized that their students were interested in new forms of cultural production that are enabled by new media technologies and new forms of cultural distribution supported by the web. They knew that their students were fans, bloggers, and gamers. But they faced a number of issues: they had no standards by which to evaluate work produced in these new and emerging media; they didn't know enough themselves to give good advice to student media makers; the students lacked role models to help them understand future opportunities in this space; and the students were facing ethical issues that their teachers and parents didn't really understand.

We decided to respond to these challenges by producing a library of short digital films focused around media-makers and the craft and ethical choices they face in producing and distributing their work. For each media maker, we may produce 5-10 short (4-5 minute) video segments addressing different points in their creative process. A teacher or after school program might show one or more of those segments to kick off a discussion about media production processes. They may decide to work horizontally -- fleshing out one form of media making -- or vertically -- looking at storyboarding or interviewing techniques across a range of artists and media. These videos will be accompanied by supporting materials -- vocabulary sheets, charts showing the various tools the artists use, and potential production activities that can be brought into the classroom. We also imagine that as students get engaged with the videos they will seek out more content on their own via our website and thus dig deeper into the whole world of media production than can be accomplished within the constraints of the school day.

Long term, we expect to make this an open library where anyone can insert their own content and thus provide an incentive for teachers and students to engage with media production projects around artists in their own local community. In the short run, we are producing these videos in-house -- working with Comparative Media Studies graduate students and with our new production coordinator Anna Van Someren, who was until recently part of the Youth Voice Collaborative here in Boston.

We are just now putting the first crop of exemplars out on the web and I figured I would showcase them here as they go up. One of the first will have special interest to readers of this blog, many of whom found this site because of some early shout outs by Cory Doctorow over at Boing Boing. When Doctorow was speaking at MIT last year, CMS graduate student Neal Grigsby grabbed some time with him to talk about blogging, science fiction writing, and online communications. The documentary was produced for middle and high school students but we think it will engage many adult viewers as well.

Here are some highlights:

Doctorow was until recently an advocate for the Electronic Frontier Foundation: he is someone deeply committed to the concept of the Creative Commons, so it is fitting that the opening film starts with him reading aloud the Creative Common license that grants us permission to share his words with the world. He explains elsewhere in the opening segment:

My first novel was the first novel to use a Creative Commons license. Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom was released in stores on January 9, 2003 and, on the same day, it was released as a Creative Commons download that came with a license that allowed you to noncommercial redistribute it and make reuse of it as much as you wanted. The novel has been distributed from my website at least 650,000 times and from other people's websites some unknown number of times, and it's in its 6th printing. And that's because for most people an electronic book is not a substitute for a print book it's an advertisement for a print book. And, for me, my biggest problem isn't piracy, its obscurity. And it really seems to me that the more you give away, the better it is. That seems to be the conclusion that I've come to.

Doctorow went on to talk about why he choose Disneyworld as the setting for his first novel and in the process shared something of his own fannish relationship to popular culture:

It's a great fictional setting, for starters. I mean, there's so much great detail. And it's got both a lot of familiarity and a lot of foreignness for people. A lot of people have been to Disney World, it gets more visitors every year than the United Kingdom. But it also has all this rich detail, that if you spend a lot of time playing around with it, you can find all these interesting little factoids and trivioids that you can drop in and really excite people.

I love putting pop culture into the work I do. It lets you be a fan with a giving up authorship. You can be a drooling fanboy without surrendering your position at the top of the geek hierarchy by working in these fanboy references

in your stuff as you go, you know? And it's also, I think, a nice way to pay homage to your literary ancestors and your peers. And it's a little naughty, too, to drop in the occasional visit from someone else's characters or the

occasional moment from someone else's world. I think that pop culture references and references to other works in my own works give them a kind of a richness, a depth. You can import an entire other narrative just by dropping a couple of references to it in your book or in your short story, and that, think, is pretty exciting.

The other great advantage, of course, of writing a novel set in theme park is that it makes your trips to Disney World tax-deductible. And so I had a couple of very fine years of tax-deductible trips to Disney World.

Doctorow offers some pragmatic advice about writing in general (which are sure to earn jabs in the elbow from composition teachers around the country):

The most important thing, I think, that any writer can do is: when you're learning your writing habits, eschew all ceremony. Don't be one of those writers who needs to light a candle, and clean the cat, and wash the dishes, and vacuum the house, and put away all the books, and do 20 minutes of yoga, and go for brisk walk, and contemplate your navel before you can set a word down on the page. When you go back and reread your work, you won't know which pages you wrote on days when you were feeling completely uninspired, and which

pages you wrote on days when you were having a great time. And by not letting yourself get trapped into ceremony, and the myth of the Muse that has to visit you before you can commit to writing, you will be a writer. Because a writer is someone who writes not someone who complains about writing. And if your job is to be a writer you have to be able to write. Garbagemen never talk about having garbagemen's block. Doctors never say, "I can't do surgery today, I'm just not in the mood." If it's your job you have to be able to write when it's

time to write.

The interview also serves our mandate to offer teachers some standards for thinking about what constitutes good writing in the digital media. Here's what Doctorow has to say about the art of blogging:

A blog succeeds, I think, on the basis of how good your headline and your lead is. There's a tendency among bloggers to want to repeat the privilege and sin of newspaper writers, which is to write the clever, silly headline that draws its strength from its place on the page and the context that surrounds it. So you write a headline like "Britain Weeps!" And it's 72 point bold, and beneath it is a big photo of someone crying. And that's intriguing. But if you do that in a blog, and your headline is syndicated to an RSS reader, and it turns up among 2000 other undifferentiated headlines, and all it says is "Britain weeps," or "OMG LOL," or "funniest thing I've seen this week, can't describe it, you gotta see it," all that stuff goes right into the round file; all that stuff just gets pitched out.

If you want to write stuff that carries, you have to really focus on these clean headlines that eschew all cleverness for memorability, the ability to be remembered. And then you have to follow it on with a lead, a nut graph, that grabs everything that's in the story and sums it up in three sentences. And it's really hard to do that. Everyone wants to give some background. They want to say, "for the last several weeks we've all noticed that something, something, something, and then, subsequently, dumpty, dumpty dum, which brings me to today's point." Again, when people are skimming headlines and just the first sentence, that stuff is just noise. You have to open, and then move back to it.

It's like writing copy for a wire service. Because that's, in effect, what you do when you blog. The primary method for consumption of any blog these days is through an RSS reader, at least as the initial path in. BoingBoing, for example, has about 1.1 million unique RSS readers per day, and about 350,000 unique web page readers per day. So it's wildly disproportionate, by far the majority of people read it in headlines. So, if you're a wire service customer at a newspaper, what you do all day is go in and read thousands and thousands of headlines, and figure out which one of these is relevant to you, and pick them up for your newspapers. So, if you're a wire service writer, you've got to write to that audience. And I think that what the Internet has done is turn all those of us who read through our headline readers into wire service editors, and all of us who write blogs, and who are conscious of wanting to spread the material in our blogs, into wire service writers.

And finally, Doctorow talks extensively about science fiction writing as a mode of social commentary and activism:

The job of the technology activist and the job of the science fiction writer are pretty comparable in that both are meant to try to investigate and try to articulate what the consequences of technology policy changes will be. To say, "if you do X the outcome might be Y." And certainly in civil liberties that's always been a tricky one. To say, "well, to regulate the speech of these neo-Nazis, you will end up regulating the speech of these other people in this

way that would cause harm. Popular speech never needs defending, so if we're only going to allow people who agree with us to speak then this is what the outcome can look like."

Science fiction tells you how the present should be, it tells you what's wrong with today, and what the future could be.... Science fiction is the most didactic literature, I think, going. It's kind of infamous for the soliloquy. You know, the author who breaks off to have a character... You know, Heinlein's characters sit there and give 25 minutes of watered-down Ayn Rand in the middle of their space adventure.

1984 is the sterling example. I went back and reread that just a month or two ago, this being a good time in the history of the western world to reread 1984, and it's remarkable not just as a piece of political fiction, as it's remembered, but as a piece of science fiction. He does all the skiffy stuff that science fiction readers love to find in their books. He's a great shallow extrapolator; he extrapolates just enough to give you that frisson of the future, and then uses that to hold a warped mirror up to the present. And it works really well....

One of the nice things about writing fiction that has some didactic elements, or that has a mission and is intended to educate as well as entertain, is that it's very hard to rebut a short story. If you write an essay, someone can come along and write another essay that says your essay is rubbish. The number of people who can write a short story to rebut your short story is much smaller.

Special thanks to Margaret Weigel, the research director on the New Media Literacies Project.

Multiplatform Entertainment: A View From China

Last week, I posted about the rapid speed with which television content has moved into new channels of distribution and the degree to which the American public seems to have embraced the ideal of rerun on demand, television for download, call it what you will. One of the key lessons of media studies is that the same technology may get adopted in different ways and at different speeds in different cultures around the world. This is one of the real value of taking a global perspective on media change. My post inspired one of the Comparative Media Studies graduate students, Rena Huang, to post some thoughts on her blog about how this same process is playing itself out in China and I asked her if I could repost these remarks here. Huang is a second year Masters student who is doing a thesis on the growth of the Chinese animation industry and is working with CMS faculty memberJing Wang, the Chair of the MIT Foreign Languages and Literatures Section, to construct a digital archive of Chinese animation in collaboration with the Beijing Film Academy. She was also part of the team from our Convergence Culture Consortium who participated in Project Good Luck this summer helping to document mobile culture in China. For those who haven't checked that site in a bit, they are still uploading pictures and interviews from the trip, including an interesting exchange with the Back Dorm Boys, the Chinese students who became famous for their lip-sincing video at You-Tube.

The following was written by Rena Huang:

Henry's "television goes multiplatform" interests me a lot since when I was back in China for the summer, I heard a lot of talks about and saw some real happenings of TV on other platforms, but not quite the same kind of platform as described in Henry's article. There are less downloading (the legal kind) of TV programs in China for various reasons. The broadcasting system, which features an overabundance of similar TV channels and a relative shortage of original content, has made frequent program rerun on different channels a common practice. One who misses his or her favorite episodes can soon catch it up on other channels. I couldn't believe that during the summer, the Westward Journey series (which was premiered 20 years ago and I really love it), is being aired to audiences old and new, on at least ten different channels. It keeps you safe in the competition to show what others are showing if you don't have better things to show.

Much of the talks I heard about alternative forms of TV-watching came from the corporate and the government. The idea of watching TV on various mobile devices is being infused to the public with greater efforts.

Watching TV on your cell phone is one way to do it. Most people are aware of and are exciting about 3G technology, when they don't yet have to worry about their 3G phone bills. But the corporate goes the easier way. Video transmission technology that is being developed and deployed for mobile receiver in China is mainly the digital multimedia broadcasting mode, that is, to broadcast through terrestrial or satellite broadcasting system. This is what Japan and South Korea are employing in their mobile TV service. But it's not happening in the US, since unlike Europe and other parts of the world, the US has failed to allocate the two kinds of radio bands that are required for this kind of transmission. With this type of relatively low-cost technology, people can watch TV on mobiles devices such as cell phone, PDA, mobile TV, and so on, for FREE, which is one major reason why we're so optimistic about the future of mobile TV-watching in China.

If massive television watching on personal mobile devices such as a cell phone is still a talk, then watching TV on communal mobile devices is already an everyday experience for many urban Chinese. It's the mobile television on public transportation. Beijing All Media and Culture Group (BAMC), who owns Beijing Television and Beijing People Broadcasting Station, set up a mobile television company and started trial broadcasting in May 2004 on 1000 Beijing buses. As of this writing, they've laid 16,000 TV sets on 5000 buses, 5000 taxies, 1,000 government vehicles and 4 subway cars to air programs to 4.5 million audiences per day, and are planning more in more public spaces.

A direct incentive behind the Chinese government's support and advocate for this initiative is the 29th Olympics to be held in Beijing in 2008. "Watch the games while you are on the go" is the picture that has been unfolded in front of people for them to grab. It is planned that, by year 2008, mobile TV broadcasting will be available across the country for people to watch on their cell phones. But the government, of course, looks way beyond 2008. The infrastructure that remains after the game will put China well ahead of others in the development and application of such technology. I was so unused to the fact that I didn't need to worry about my cell phone signals any more when I was in Beijing, no matter how deep I was under the ground. Every corner of the city is covered with cell phone signals, and will be covered with TV signals soon.

But you may wonder now, what do people watch on these mobile media. As for BAMC, a major technology, as well as content, provider in Beijing area, they have 17 hours programs (including repeats) to show to bus passengers a day, some licensed, some home-made. These programs are mainly on entertainment, life style and travel, the fast food, grab 'n go type. One interesting portion of the show is the live broadcast of traffic situation in the city which taps into the traffic cameras set up by the police on major roads. Any accident happened on the road will be released to the audience within three minutes. And of course, there are commercials and other sort of weird things. Once I noticed there was an interactive game playing on the TV screen while I was sitting on the bus. People called in to play a quick game using their phones. It costs 1.5 yuan per minute for the call, and you can win gifts. I was amazed to see that every 1 out 3 or 4 players won a big award of 80 or 120 yuan. How could the host make money? "You believe that those are real people winning? The TV is just playing tricks and trying to hook callers innocent like you!" my husband laughed at me.

Yes, that was stupid of me believing that you can actually make a fortune by playing games with mobile TV. It's true that, unlike in the US where people download and watch what they demand, here we don't have much control over where we would like to watch, nor what we can watch. A Beijing bus commuter actually went so far as to sue the bus company for "imposing TV commercials" on him when he doesn't want to see them. And he lost the lawsuit of course, since "there is no law saying that buses are not allowed to carry advertisement". He can go on to complain with the Administration of Environment, the judge suggested, if he feels bothered by the noise made by the bus TV. I don't think he can win that complaint either, 'cause for me at least, the audio of the bus TV is hardly recognizable on noisy roads and crowded buses of Beijing.

Astroturf, Humbugs, and Lonely Girls

Last week, reader Todd asked me what I thought about LonelyGirl15. At the time, I had only a passing awareness of the Lonely Girl phenomenon. Just in time, though, my friend Zephoria posted a very interesting discussion of LonelyGirl15 over at her blog, Apophenia. Here's her explanation of the back-story:

For those who aren't familiar, videos by LonelyGirl15 started appearing on YouTube over the summer. She's supposedly a teenager who is home schooled by religious parents who don't know she's creating videos online. Her friend Daniel helps her with the videos and they often talk back and forth across their videos. It's rather endearing but too good to be true.

As more videos popped up, people started questioning whether this was real or not. Speculation mounted and fake lonelygurls started to appear. People created videos to comment on LonelyGirl15. People flocked to the LonelyGirl15 forum to discuss. Problem is the LonelyGirl15 domain was registered before the videos started appearing. People started tracking down more and more clues, trying to hone in on what it was, who was behind it. Suspicion mounted. In classic fan style, people dove right down and tore apart all of the data. Quite a few thought that this was an ARG, Jane McGonigal style, but she denied involvement on NPR. Others thought it was an advert or some marketing campaign.

The clues people dug up were fascinating. Personally, i was intrigued by "Bree's" MySpace profile. I knew it was fake but i didn't know if the YouTube LonelyGirl15 made the MySpace profile LonelyGurl15. Why did i know it was fake? Well, i read too many teenage MySpaces. Not sure i should give away clues as to how to create a real-looking fake MySpace profile. ::wink::

Then press started covering it. Hands down, The New York Times had the best coverage. I can't help but wonder if the NYTimes knew the truth because they are certainly using the same language: "Hey There, Lonelygirl - One cute teen's online diary is probably a hoax. It's also the birth of a new art form." If so, go Adam for good reporting!

And sure enough, the artists who had created the original Lonelygirl15 videos revealed their identities last week:

With your help we believe we are witnessing the birth of a new art form. Our intention from the outset has been to tell a story-- A story that could only be told using the medium of video blogs and the distribution power of the internet. A story that is interactive and constantly evolving with the audience.

Right now, the biggest mystery of Lonelygirl15 is "who is she?" We think this is an oversimplification. Lonelygirl15 is a reflection of everyone. She is no more real or fictitious than the portions of our personalities that we choose to show (or hide) when we interact with the people around us. Regardless, there are deeper mysteries buried within the plot, dialogue, and background of the Lonelygirl15 videos, and many of our tireless and dedicated fans have unearthed some of these. There are many more to come....We want you to know that we aren't a big corporation. We are just like you. A few people who love good stories. We hope that you will join us in the continuing story of Lonelygirl15, and help us usher in an era of interactive storytelling where the line between "fan" and "star" has been removed, and dedicated fans like yourselves are paid for their efforts. This is an incredible time for the creator inside all of us.

As my son succinctly put it, "that's pretty bad news for lonelyboy15."

But it may not be news to many of the people who have suspected all along that Lonelygirl15 was a fake, a fraud, a hoax, or some other form of fiction. She was perhaps "fake" the way professional wrestling is fake -- that is a fake we are supposed to see through and enjoy nevertheless

. Prehistory

When I first saw the Lonelygirl15 videos, I was simultaneously reminded of two previous works. On the one hand, I was reminding by the autobiographical pixelvision films produced by teenage filmmaker Sadie Benning which became a cause celebre in the art world in the 1990s: here was a teenage dyke sitting in her bedroom, speaking with extraordinary frankness to a camera that was either handheld or propped up on her desk and which produced grainy and very authentic feeling images. In this case, the "authentic" teen girl turned out to be the daughter of an established avant garde artist who used his connections to the art world to help launch here career.

The second was Rachel's Room, an ongoing series of fictional videos produced by Sony Interactive, a few years ago, which also consisted of a teenage girl sitting in her bedroom, talking to the camera, sprawling on her bed, fighting with her parents, and developing a form of serial fiction which unfolded day by day on the web. In this case, my associate Alex Chisholm and I stood on the set in Hollywood and saw the amount of technical support which went into producing the effect of a normal teen's home videos.

The first was clearly marked as nonfiction, the second represented what might be called an epistolary fiction for the web.

ARGs and Epistolary Fictions

Yet, with Lonelygirl15, there was uncertainty about what we were watching: was it fiction or nonfiction? Was it made by an amateur or a commercial entity? Was it really what it seemed or did it represent a gateway to something else -- the rabbit hole into an ARG?

After all, ARGS do not explicitly mark their fictional status, often mimic real world documents, and thus provide another narrative frame for thinking about the relationship between fiction and reality. A while back, in Technology Review, I made the argument that ARGs (which constitute a modern variant on an older literary practice):

Alternative [sic] reality gaming could be seen as a 21st century equivalent of a much older literary form -- epistolary fiction. Many early novels, including Pamela (1740) Les Liaisons Dangereuse ( 1782 ) or The Sorrows of Young Werther (1815), consisted of fictional letters, journals, diaries, and newspaper accounts, which were presented by their authors with little acknowledgement of their fictional status. The authors often claimed to have found the materials in an old trunk or to have received them anonymously in the mail....The content of earlier epistolary novels turned readers into armchair detectives and amateur psychologists, piecing together the events of the story from multiple, fragmentary, and sometimes contradictory, always subjective, accounts. These ARGs take on a more public dimension, exploring conspiracies or mysteries which exploit the expansive potential of the transmedia environment. Though read in private, these early novels became the focus of parlor room discussions as people compared notes about the characters and their situations. ARGS today offer a very similar experience of mutual debate and collaborative interpretation for a society just beginning to experiment with what cybertheorist Pierre Levy calls collective intelligence.

Provocations

But, ARGs don't just blur fact and fiction. ARGS invite us to do something with the information they give us: we don't just watch; we act. Similarly, as I suggest in Convergence Culture, viewers are increasingly responding to reality television with a problem-solving mentality -- trying to track down what they can from various channels to uncloak what they can before it is broadcast.

This is the nature of art (fictional or nonfictional) in the age of collective intelligence: the work provokes us, incites us into action. Indeed, as an art project, Lonelygirl15 seems designed to encourage our participation. Yet we don't know what we are supposed to do if we do not correctly identify the genre within which the text operates: do we dig deeper into the text in search of clues (as in the case of an ARG) or do we go beyond the text in search of reality (as in the case of reality spoiling)? In this case, the public's uncertainty about the status of these images made figuring out the source of these messages the central task. The mystery overwhelmed the content -- perhaps more than the art students anticipated and forced them to out themselves so that we might hopefully engage with their work on another level.

As Apophenia writes:

They are telling their story, truth or fiction. Of course, this makes many people very uncomfortable. They want blogs and YouTube and MySpace to be Real with a capital R. Or they want it to be complete play. Yet, what's happening is both and neither. People are certainly playing but even those who are creating "reality" are still engaged in an act of performance. They are writing themselves into being for others to interpret and the digital bodies that emerge often confound those who are doing the interpretation. In many ways, this reminds me of the Fakester drama during the height of Friendster. As one of the instigators behind the Fakester manifesto explained, "none of this is real."

Something of the uncertainty that the Lonelygirl15 phenomenon has provoked can be seen by looking behind the scenes at Wikipedia where a heated debate has broken out about whether there should be a post about the phenomenon and what would constitute verifiable information on the topic. The blurry boundaries between fact and fiction here seem to have thrown the categories and logics by which Wikipedia works into crisis.

We'll Always Have Paris

In this regard, I am struck by the parallels last week between the Lonelygirl15 story and what happened with Paris Hilton and her new album. Here's how MTV news described the story:

British graffiti artist Banksy has placed 500 doctored copies of the heiress' debut CD in 48 U.K. record stores, replacing Hilton's album with 40 minutes of remixes and altering the cover to advertise titles including "Why Am I Famous?" and "What Am I For?," according to BBC News. The guerrilla artist also changed pictures of Hilton on the CD sleeve to show her topless and with a dog's head, but kept the original barcode intact -- which means that some may buy the LP thinking it is the real thing. A representative for record chain HMV told BBC News that it has recovered seven altered copies from stores but no customers have returned a tampered version of the disc. The altered copies also include a Hilton remix CD credited to "DM," which Danger Mouse's management confirmed is him. "It's hard to improve on perfection, but we had to try," the Gnarls Barkley mastermind said in a statement. Danger Mouse and Banksy are believed to have met while shopping for costumes in SoHo, New York. ...

So, in order to comment on the fakeness of Hilton's celebrity, someone created fake versions of her album and smuggled them back in the store. Back in the day, this would have been the work of amateur culture jammers, like the notorious Barbie Liberation Army, but now this is -- guess what -- an art project involving, among others, Danger Mouse, himself a star with a cult following for his bold mash-ups of other people's music. And as we speak, the fake Paris Hilton albums are going for ever larger sums on Ebay. So, how do we understand the nature of this particular recording: is it culture jamming or commodificiation? Is it art or self-promotion? Is it a fake Paris Hilton cd or a Danger Mouse/Banksy "original"? And what are we supposed to do with this knowledge? What forms of participation does it require from us?

Humbugs and Network Culture

Before we dismiss this all as "postmodern", keep in mind that the epistolary novels discussed earlier also played with our uncertainty about the line between reality and fiction within a new medium (the printed book) whose conventions had not yet been firmly established. And keep in mind the elaborate play between reality and fiction set in motion in the 19th century, which writer Neil Harris has described as the golden age of the "humbug." Harris writes about the proliferation of fake "mermaids" and stone giants in the 19th century at a time when knowledge was in flux, science was at least partially amateur and participatory, new discoveries (both anthropological and technological) were being made every day, and people wanted to acquire new skills at discernment to keep up with the pace of cultural churn. In other words, there seems to be a fascination with blurry categories at moments of media in transition -- it is one of the ways we try to apply evolving skills in a context where the categories that organize our culture are in flux.

Yochai Benkler's The Wealth of Networks describes network culture in terms of the intermingling between commercial, nonprofit, governmental, educational, and amateur modes of cultural production. We might extend his concept of a network culture to describe not only one where these forms co-exist through the same media platform but also one where the lines between them start to blur, where it becomes increasingly difficult to tell where one ends and the other starts. Indeed, we are once again in an era where the "humbug" takes on new significance -- as we learn to apply our skills, collectively and individually, to try to reassert order in the chaos which is created at a site like You-Tube where amateur produced and appropriated commercial product co-exist often in unmarked forms.

Astroturf

To be sure, artists are not the only ones who are exploiting our uncertainty about the source and status of content within this new networked culture. Commercial interests and political interests are also increasingly acting in unscrupulous ways -- inserting fake grassroots media content into YouTube and other such sites in hopes that it can be passed off as authentic bottom-up material. There's even a word for this fake grassroots culture -- Astroturf. Here's a classic example of Astroturf. Earlier this summer, The Wall Street Journal outted a YouTube video spoofing Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth not as the product of an amateur but rather as the work of a Washington lobby group eager to discredit the former vice president:

The maker of the Gore-baiting spoof is credited as Toutsmith, a 29-year-old from Beverly Hills, California. The video appears to have been produced on a home computer, with a budget of pennies. But an investigation by The Wall Street Journal has discovered that Toutsmith is actually operating from Washington, on a computer registered to a PR company called DCI Group. The company's clients happen to include the multinational oil company ExxonMobil. If the video was produced by DCI Group, it would not be the PR company's first attempt to produce its own content. The company operates a news and opinion website called Tech Central Station, which is sponsored by companies including Exxon, General Motors and McDonald's. The website takes a highly skeptical view of climate change, and is openly anti-Gore.

All of this brings me back to the debate which has been brewing here around my post about the efforts to save Stargate. One side has been asserting that the campaign I described as grassroots activism may be having closer ties to the production company, MGM, than has been acknowledged, a charge that the group leaders deny. And others are writing to suggest that it really doesn't matter since the goal is for fans and producers to work together to find a solution which allows them to keep a favorite television show in production. I have been trying not to take sides here. I don't know where the truth lies. But I am really fascinated by the controversy itself as an illustration of the increased blurring of distinctions between media producers and consumers.

As I suggest in Convergence Culture, sometimes these groups are making common cause facilitated by the shared communication context provided by the web. They are speaking to each other through multiple channels -- public and private, open and closed, commercial and grassroots -- and working together on an ad-hoc basis. Other times, the groups are steadfastly opposed to each other, pursuing their own interests in their own ways. And sometimes, nobody is certain what is going on. Are we working together or are we being exploited? Could both be going on at the same time? Or could our suspicion of hidden motives get in the way of pursuing common interests, leaving us always looking for conspiracies where none exists?

Chaos or Churn?

Earlier, I shifted between calling this chaos (a negative term no matter how you cut it) and churn (a more positive spin). Writers like Virginia Postrel (The Future and Its Discontents) and Grant McCracken (Plentitude) use the term, churn, to describe a culture of rapid turnover and constant change, describing this uncertainty and unpredictability as generative. Churn encourages the experimentation and innovation at the very heart of the creative process. Clearly, we should be hunting out Astroturf which is simply a new form of spam but we should also be enjoying the creative spark which drives something like Lonelygirl15 or Danger Mouse. We should, like the 19th century patrons of P.T. Barnum, take pleasure in trying to see through a good humbug. We should be going into all of this with our eyes wide open but we should also be prepared to accept impure motives and hybrid works that emerge at the nexus between different levels of cultural production.

Thanks to danah boyd, Zhan Li, and Anna Pauline Van Someren for information included in this post.

The Beauty of Brian Michael Bendis

For several posts now, I've been running an interview with Alan McKee, the editor of Beautiful Things in Popular Culture, a book designed to focus attention on the ways fans and consumers evaluate different forms of popular culture. McKee asked his contributors to do several things at once: first, to choose the "best of class" within a form of popular culture which we had deep investments and then to set about to justify that choice in terms of the criteria which consumers most often use to evaluate good and bad work in that space. I used the invitation as an excuse to write about superhero comics. From the start, it was clear that my preferences in comics have as much or more to do with their authors as with their artists. In many cases, I read pretty much everything published by certain writers: favorites include Robert Kirkman, Alan Moore, Warren Ellis, Mark Waid, Greg Rucka, Neil Gaiman, Ed Brubaker, and Brian Michael Bendis. Already to focus on superhero comics is to navigate between two fairly strong taste communities around comics:

Comic fans are sharply divided into two camps: on the one side, there are fans of comics as popular culture (with a focus on the creative reworking of genre elements and plays with continuity) and their voice is perhaps best represented by Wizard; on the other side, there are fans of comics as art (with a focus on aesthetic experimentation and unconventional content) and their voice is perhaps best represented by Comics Journal. At my local shop, the two types of books are divided off from each other by a partition designed to keep the kids from mangling the adult books, but also working to signal a certain cultural hierarchy at play. To praise Bendis as one of today's best writers is already to take sides since the Comics Journal crowd will look down their noses at you if you admit to reading superhero comics.

The most interesting contemporary comics fall somewhere between these two extremes - including work published by smaller companies like ABC, Oni, Image, Dark Horse, or Wildstorm which put their own spin on the superhero genre or works published by the boutique labels, such as Vertigo at DC or Max at Marvel, which are maintained by the mainstream publishers. Increasingly, the lines between mainstream and indie comics are breaking down. Much as indie filmmakers are getting a shot at directing Hollywood blockbusters, indie comics creators (such as Gilbert Hernandez, John Strum, or Peter Bagge) are venturing into the mainstream without risking their street cred.

I ended up choosing Bendis in part because he represented so many of the trends reshaping contemporary comics -- not the least of which was a the tendency discussed above to blur the lines between indie and mainstream comics. Bendis came from alternative comics and brought some of that sensativity to the mainstream.

My essay tries to determine what made Bendis a unique voice in the superhero genre (despite some profound differences in theme and audience across his various books) and also what made him exemplary of contemporary comics production. What follows are a few excerpts from the essay.

The Ultimate

In Ultimate Spiderman 28 (henceforth U.S.), M.J. comes racing into the Midtown High School library and asks her boyfriend, Peter Parker, whether he brought his costume. Rhino is smashing up downtown Manhattan and no one has been able to stop him. Asking M.J. to cover for his fourth period French class, he races to his locker and grabs his Spider-man costume (hidden in his knapsack), only to run into his Aunt May who is at school for a parent-teacher meeting. As Peter squirms in his chair, the teacher accuses him of being 'distracted' and 'unfocused' in class. Begging off, he races for the door, only to spot the school principal, and then spin off down another hallway. He cuts through the school cafeteria where he catches the lunch lady grumbling that the Rhino coverage is interrupting her soaps, then out the door, where he runs into his friend, Gwen, who is sobbing that nobody cares about her. Extracting himself from this emotional crisis, Peter races out of the school, stopping long enough to shout to M.J. to go see after Gwen. A few seconds later, Peter gets clocked by a football and chased by the school bullies, before scaling over the walls, scampering across rooftops, and riding on the tops of cars, arriving just in time to see Iron Man taking kudos for stopping the Rhino's rampage.

Whew! We've all had days like this.

I always wondered how even an ultra-nerd like Peter could manage to skip classes so often (all in the call of duty, of course) without ending up flunking out or spending the rest of his life in detention. From the start, Stan Lee and Steve Ditko conceived Spider-man as sharing the flaws and foibles of his teen readers . Forget Metropolis and Gotham City: Marvel set its stories in actual locations in Manhattan. They relied on the sudden introduction of real world problems, such as not having enough money to buy a new costume or not knowing how to explain why you just stood up your hot date, to increase audience identification. What counted as comic book realism in the 1960s doesn't necessarily work for contemporary kids. Through the Ultimate Spider-Man series, Brian Michael Bendis retools Ol' Spidey for a generation that has grown up on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, creating a comic that is as hip and 'postmodern' as it gets.

Bendis has fleshed out the core characters, changing the way they dress and talk to reflect contemporary mallrat culture, but not altering their core. In this case, the supportive M.J., the concerned Aunt May, and the 'drama queen' Gwen are used as comic foils to amplify Peter's struggle to escape the gravitational pull of his high school. Bendis also reconceptualized some members of the Spider-man rogue's gallery to up their 'coolness' factor - turning the usually dorky Rhino into a powerful mecha-man who tosses city buses through Starbuck's windows. The well-crafted issue maintains a frantic pace that keeps you turning pages. It contrasts with previous issues, coming right after an angsty story arc that took us inside the head of the Green Goblin and almost cost M.J. her life. It builds on evolving character's relations, such as M.J.'s new involvement in Peter's superhero life; and it prepares for future plot developments, such as the growing rift in Gwen's family. Artist Mark Bagley distills the essence of the characters into telling gestures, such as M.J. waving frantically from an upper window for Peter to get moving, Peter staring off into space during the parent-teacher conference, or a frustrated Spider-Man watching as Iron Man throws his hands up in victory.

The Bendis Moment

Film critics used to write about 'the Lubitsch touch' . Ernest Lubitsch melded European sophistication with classic Hollywood storytelling, adding one more layer of suggestion to the basic building blocks of the romantic comedy. Today, comics fans might talk about the 'Bendis moment'. Bendis always adds his own distinctive twist to the familiar characters and situations of the superhero genre, creating 'memorable moments' which will be discussed, debated, and savored by the fan boys. Half the time Bendis infuriates us by doing the unthinkable; the other half, he rewards us by taking us places we never imagined we'd get to go; but no matter what, he produces comics we want to talk about. A Bendis moment can be as innocent as Peter Parker, sprawled on the floor cradling his crumpled Spider-Man costume and sobbing over his breakup with M.J. (U.S. 33) or as crude as the controversial sequence in Alias (1) (henceforth A), where it is implied that the protagonist, Jessica Jones is having anal sex with Luke Cage, one of the few African-American characters in the Marvel universe.

One of the most memorable Bendis moments came when Parker gets rescued by three of the hotest mutant 'babes' from the Ultimate X-men cast. As Spidey 'fans,' they are just tickled to death to meet him. The telepath Jean Grey gushes that he's the first guy she's met in months that hasn't tried to imagine her naked (U.S. 43). Across fourteen awkward panels, Bendis and Bagley cut between Peter and Jean, as he tries, without success, not to think of her naked and as she waits impatiently for him to get over it. Any guy who has wanted desperately to be 'better than the others' and has had their hormones get in the way must surely feel for Peter's predicament confronting a girl who can read his every conflicted thought. Such moments grow organically out of the interplay between characters we know and love and exploit the juxtaposition between the fantastical situations we associate with superhero comics and a much more mundane reality we live in most of the time.

Bendis, Who?

Bendis writes what industry insiders call 'buzz books,' managing to be a critical darling who racks up awards and a commercial success who tops the charts. Bendis has won both the Wizard award (from fans) and the Eisner award (from fellow pros) for best writer for the past two years. Most months, he writes four or five of the twenty five top-selling comics. Wizard has called Bendis the 'Michael Jordan of Marvel,' citing this most valuable player as one of the key factors behind the company's commercial and critical revival over the past few years . (Somewhere around here, I keep wanting to toss off a 'Bendis like Beckham' pun.) As Marvel president Bill Jemas explains, 'Brian delivers hundreds of thousands of fans every month. He makes all of those fans happy and brings them back'. Wonder Woman scribe Greg Rucka praises Bendis as the consummate professional, 'He has a complete command of the art. Every aspect of the writer's job, he can do it well, and understands it intuitively. He's got every trick in the toolbox and god knows, he knows how to use them.'

And to top it all, he is amazingly prolific, cranking out five to eight different titles every month over the past several years. Ultimate Spider-Man alone adds up to eighteen issues a year. When Marvel needed a pinch hitter for Ultimate X-Men, Bendis crossed over and added another biweekly title to his workload, even as he was helping to launch Ultimate Fantastic Four and knock off the Ultimate Six mini-series.

His commercial success and professionalism has earned Bendis the creative freedom to take risks and the power to reshape the Marvel universe. As Bendis notes, 'I get paid whether I kick ass or phone it in. Why not kick ass?'. And kick ass he does, month after month....

Bendis has said that his greatest excitement as a writer comes when he paints himself into a corner and then has to figure out how to get back out again. Bendis constantly takes risks that a lesser writer would avoid and then makes them pay off for the reader, inviting us to think about the superheroes, their rogues galleries, their supporting characters, and their worlds in fresh new ways. Sometimes that pisses off the old-timers. Bendis sparked controversy with some of his earliest work for Marvel from fans who felt that he was putzing around with Elektra, a character introduced by Frank Miller during his acclaimed run of Daredevil . ...

The recent history of the superhero genre has been marked by several movements between deconstructionist writers (such as Frank Miller, Alan Moore, Rick Veitch, or Grant Morrison) who critiqued the genre's fascist fantasies, and reconstructionist writers (such as Mark Waid, Kurt Busiek, Mark Millar, Jeph Loeb, or Greg Rucka) who have sought to put the 'Wow!' back in the genre . Bendis's deft writing allows him to move back and forth between the two camps, chipping away at clichés, critiquing underlying assumptions, while at the same time offering the kind of slobberknocking fight scenes and high flying adventures that make comic fans grin. Each Bendis book offers a different angle on the superhero genre: depicting a young man learning the ropes and facing adult dismissals (Ultimate Spiderman), a more mature superhero whose world seems to be coming apart before his eyes (Daredevil), a former B-level superhero who sometimes has trouble getting the A-listers on the telephone (Alias), and a bunch of beat cops who have to unravel the scandals and conspiracies celebrity superheroes hope to hide from their tabloid-reading public (Powers). Bendis clearly loves the genre, but he's more than willing to take the piss out of it....

Dialogue

Wizard praises Bendis for 'dialogue that pops and snaps more than a fresh bowl of Rice Krispies.' ...

Superhero comics are notorious for their clunky or over-inflated dialogue, dating back to a time when the pictures were crude and the writers sometimes had to fill in plot information the artist never got around to drawing. So, you have the situation where characters describe things that would be obvious to anyone standing at the location or where villains spell out their entire plans. Sometimes the entire book is nothing but exposition as the writer tries to cram an ambitious story into far too few pages. Only belatedly did comic writers see dialogue as a means of defining the characters or setting the emotional tone. When Peter Parker first realizes that he has spider strength, Stan Lee has him exclaim, 'What's happening to me? I feel - different! As though my entire body is charged with some fantastic energy,' and then has him go into a long wonkish discussion of how his various powers parallel those of the common spider . (Come to think of it, maybe that is how the geekish protagonist would react!) Bendis deals with a similar discovery in Alias in a far more down to earth manner. An angry adolescent is trudging along through a city park, her mind million miles away, and then, suddenly, realizes that her feet are no longer touching the ground and that she has no idea how to land again. Her: 'Shit! Oh Shit!' economically expresses her shift between giddy excitement and gut-wrenching terror....

Bendis adopts more naturalistic patterns of communication, including a focus on the various ways people struggle, in real life, to adequately express their ideas. A recent anthology, Total Sellout, shares a series of his monologues, some autobiographical, others based on things he overheard on the street, which shows his early fascination with human speech patterns. Bendis loves to weave complex layers of word balloons across the page, allowing well-drawn character study to hold our interest in the absence of more visceral action sequences. This technique came into its own in Jinx, which includes rambling debates between various lowlife characters on such issues as the letterboxing of movies that recall the debate about Madonna videos that opens Reservoir Dogs or the famous Le Cheese Royale exchange in Pulp Fiction. ...

Critics accuse Bendis of being verbose and he certainly uses more words per page than anyone else. Yet, Bendis knows when to pull back and let his images speak for him, making effective use of wordless montages which convey the character's thought processes. Consider the moment in Ultimate Spider-Man 14 where the meat-headed Kong almost discovers Spiderman's secret identity but is unable to hold all of the pieces of information together in his mind; or the scene in Alias 21 where we see a teen-aged Jessica's thoughts as she masturbates to a pinup of Johnny Storm (ending with a close-up of her curling toes). Perhaps most spectacularly, an entire issue of Powers (31) includes only the grunts of subhuman apes as Bendis traces the origins of the superhero back to prehistoric times. Throughout Alias, Bendis contrasts the information-dump that Jessica receives from her clients with wordless shots showing the detective absorbing and reacting to the information....

A Bastard Art

Bendis himself sets the terms by which we evaluate his work. He told interviewers at Write Now!: 'I heard a quote from Sting, that rock-and-roll is a bastard art form. That there is no one thing that makes rock-and-roll, rock-and-roll, that it only really succeeds when somebody makes the conscious personal decision to pull something new into it from outside like jazz, country, or opera. Something vital happens then. I think comics are the same way. There is no one thing that makes a great comic. Each time someone's gone outside of comics and pulled something into it. For their own reasons, something really exciting happens. A lot of artists have done that, but not a lot of writers.'

Bendis has helped to revitalize the modern superhero comics by pulling into the genre a range of techniques which in other art forms insure naturalism: his reliance on fragmented and sometimes incomplete dialogue; his interest in documenting the perspectives of professional groups or youth subcultures; his attention to the mundane details of everyday life; his ability to allow characters to grow and develop over time. He talks about his comics alongside the work of writers like David Mamet or Richard Price, refusing to accept a second-class status for his own medium. Rather, his work does something theirs can not - build on a thirty or forty year history of our relationships with these characters, push these ideas into alternative realities and use them to comment on our own lived experiences, and, oh yeah, capture the hearts and imaginations of hundreds of thousands of teenagers.

For those of comics fans in the Boston area, you might be interested to know we are hosting a public lecture by Scott McCloud on his new book, Making Comics, this thursday, 5-7 pm, in the MIT Media Lab's Bartos Theater. It is a joint CMS-Media Lab event. For those outside the Boston area, we hope to provide a podcast of the event early next week.

Behind the Scenes: Beautiful Things in Popular Culture (Part Two)

This is the second part of a two part interview with Alan McKee, the editor and mastermind behind a fabulous new book, Beautiful Things in Popular Culture, which introduces what I see as a vital new approach for thinking about how we evaluate various forms of popular culture. The essays in the book combine anthropological and autobiographical insights -- both asking about their own evaluations and then reading them against larger taste communities. The result is an academic book which is fun to read and which will itself spark countless conversations as people debate what might constitute the "best of breed" in their favorite form of cultural production. The book is sure to also raise debates at academic conferences where evaluative judgements have long remained taboo (even though all of the decisions we make are shaped by often unexamined evaluations about which texts are worth studying, writing about, teaching, etc.) Early cultural studies sought to escape the shadow of high culture criteria as well as a history of insensitivity to work produced in alternative cultural traditions, yet it has in the process falsified its object of study. We ignore the degree to which evaluation and debating evaluations is central to the pleasure we take in popular culture. We ignore the kinds of popular aesthetics which shape these evaluations and allow to stand the myth of consumers as undiscriminating and popular culture as undifferentiated. And we essentially ignore the degree to which popular culture is, to borrow from my own writing, "the culture that sticks to your skin," (see my book, Hop on Pop: The Pleasures and Politics of Popular Culture) and thus can not be meaningfully understood from a traditional stance of academic discipline.

My hope is that aca/fen can, in fact, break down this inhibition about evaluation while at the same time, develop new conceptual frameworks for thinking about how evaluation works in fan communities. This is why I am so happy to see McKee and his contributors do such a spectacular job in realizing his goals for this project.

You are clearly critical of the "belief that consumers of mass culture lack the ability for discernment." What do you see as the negative consequences of this position in terms of writing about popular culture? What do we gain by looking more closely at the institutions and practices where popular evaluation occurs?

It's funny. Every Cultural Studies academic agrees theoretically now that consumers are not brainwashed, that they make active choices about what to consume, how to consume it, and that the interpretations they make of it can never be predicted by the producers. That's all common sense. But at the same time there's this Freudian disavowal going on - 'I know very well ... but all the same'. We all know very well that the masses are, like us, thinking human beings who choose what to consume ... but all the same ... Rupert Murdoch gets to decide what he puts in his papers ... and there would be a genuine demand for social debates on television, if the capitalist companies didn't control what was shown ... and there's no such thing as 'real' choice in capitalism, because the producers make sure that the range of what is available is limited, so that nothing that would genuinely challenge capitalism is ever shown .... Etc, etc etc - all the same old clichés and worries about the masses being brainwashed by the culture industry!

I had this conversation with a friend - a cultural theorist - where I was telling her about this book. I was talking about how so much cultural theory relies on the idea that audiences take whatever they're given. It's an attitude that underlies concerns about globalization, about media ownership, about dumbing down, about ideology and hegemony, and so on. And she said 'Are there really dinosaurs who still believe that kind of stuff?'. That was the word she used - dinosaurs - as though such an idea was so old fashioned that she couldn't imagine any living human being thinking in that way.

And the conversation then moved on to populist, trashy current affairs shows, and I was saying how interesting I find them as a way of understanding the culture and interests of middle aged, non-university-educated women - the demographic for those shows. Because by watching the successful, popular ones, you find out what that audience thinks is important and interesting. And she immediately disagreed - she was saying things like 'But there's no evidence they actually like the programs - they only watch them because there's no choice'. She knew very well that audiences won't take whatever they're given ... but all the same ...

I asked her which theorists she liked, and she was telling me about, I can't remember, Nancy or somebody, and I said, 'But you don't really like Nancy, you didn't make a rational decision to read him out of the theorists on offer - that's just what you've been given'. And she actually said, 'That's really rude'. And then she realized that that was exactly what she'd just said about the viewers of A Current Affair.

And so I think that this is the key thing for our cultural theorizing - this is the insight that we get from studying these systems of popular evaluation. Of course no consumer has infinite choice - just as intellectuals don't have an infinite choice about the theoretical books that they read. But that doesn't mean that there's no intellectual work involved in the choices of what to consume. At any given time in Australia, even in prime time, three quarters of the population aren't watching television. If there's 'nothing on', people will switch it off and do something else. I mean, that's so obvious it's not worth saying - and yet we forget that it's true. So we have to remember that although intellectuals may have the luxury of time and resources to communicate their thinking about culture, and that may separate us out as a class, the basic intellectual work of making decisions about culture is common. All human beings are thinking creatures. And if we can remember that, and not dismiss it with ' ... but all the same', I think our theories of culture would benefit.

The book's contributors deal with a broad range of different forms of popular culture. Do you see different criteria at work as people talk about serial killer novels, motorcycles, sports players, and running shoes, or is there such a thing as a "popular aesthetic" that shapes our response to these various

sites of cultural production?

Again, this is an interesting contrast with the tradition of aesthetic philosophy, which tends towards unitary aesthetic systems. There's a tendency for people to seek out 'the' single, correct set of criteria for evaluating culture. This ties back into the binary, of course - everything in culture can be placed within a single dualistic system - popular culture vs art - and only art has a proper aesthetic system, therefore there can (/should) only be a single aesthetic system.

But I think that's nonsense. I think that the whole popular culture/high culture binary is nonsense. The problem, as I see it, is that the way that this binary has emerged is that fans of high culture have a pretty good idea of what that is - it's the culture that's enjoyed by people with tertiary education. Having established that, the problem then is that the definition of popular culture becomes simply 'everything that's not high culture'. It's all defined in relation to high culture. Which is silly - why would you make high culture - or 'art' - the centre of your definitions and models of culture? In practice, that means that 'popular culture' then includes everything that isn't high culture - even minority cultural practices that most people would have a problem with (the casual gay sex of cruisingforsex.com); or radical cultural practices that reject and attack the mainstream (community media). It doesn't really make sense to lump together everything that isn't art as though it were all the same.

A better approach, I think, is to think lots of different 'subcultures'--including 'art' as just one more subculture - alongside mainstream entertainment as another particular subculture, alongside sexual subcultures, alternative experimental subcultures, radical subcultures and so on.

And so there are indeed multiple aesthetic systems for interpreting different kinds of culture. Even within a given community, there will be competing aesthetic systems. And I'm not sure that we can pull out any general rules about them. From reading the chapters in this book, a few things stood out for me. You can find some continuity with literary aesthetic systems, in a concern for characters which are psychologically believable. And there's an element that came through in several writers that many consumers like to find the less popular and less well known examples of their genre, the whole 'I like their early stuff' approach to evaluating culture - the connoisseurs of popular culture can be terrible snobs just as much as art fans. But I don't think there's such a thing as 'the' popular aesthetic system.

You refuse to draw sharp lines between popular and high art here. This is a conversation we've been having on the blog -- whether we can be "fans" of high culture or whether the aura and institutional practices surrounding it tends to restrict how we engage with its contents. What can we take from the study of "Beautiful Things in Popular Culture" that we might apply back to the study of traditional high culture?

I know that this is a bit controversial, but personally I don't believe there's any difference between the fans of popular culture and the fans of high culture. I've recently been doing some research into Theory fans - people who read cultural Theory for pleasure. And their practices and pleasures seem to be exactly the same as Star Trek fans, for example. Theory fans buy the books. They buy books of 'fan writing' - books written by other fans who really like Theory and want to tell people how good it is. They read all of this for pleasure. They go to conventions/conferences, to meet other fans, and argue about their favorite bits, and about the interpretation of them. It's all just fan behaviour. I found a great example recently, of a flyer advertising a Derrida conference, where the organizers said quite explicitly that the conference would 'celebrate the enduring and urgent political significance and relevance of his work'. It's celebration! You can't get more fannish than that. And you can see the same thing for Shakespeare fans, and classical music fans, and performance art fans, etc etc etc.

Of course, there are differences about how such fandoms are treated in culture. As a fan of high culture, one is encouraged to think of oneself as a 'connoisseur'. The myth is that there are real, 'rational' reasons to like high culture (because it is, 'really', 'good'), while fans of popular culture are somehow excessive or misguided in their loyalty. But I can't find any evidence to support this view - I'm pretty sure it's just prejudice.

Many of the essays in the collection are deeply personal: people dig deep into their own memories to talk about the place of these "beautiful things" in their own lives and to establish their own credentials for offering evaluations. Much academic work seeks to expel such autobiographical impulses; what do we gain by including them in the study of popular culture?

I think you're right that academic writing as a genre seeks to expel personal reactions to texts. I've worked like that for a long time myself. But I think that ultimately, it's not intellectually sustainable. For example, look at Deleuze fans. Why are they so excited about Deleuze's ideas, why do they want to write about them, and go to conferences about them? The answer can't be found just in Deleuze's writing, because there are plenty of intelligent, informed people who have read Deleuze and just shrug their shoulders and say 'Whatever'. The reason for their passion is in the relationship between them as readers and the writings of Deleuze. It's something about their own character, their intellectual and emotionalformation, their upbringing, that means that they are the kind of people who respond to that kind of writing. Again, the recent research I've done on Theory fans has been very interesting. Many of them talked about the thrill they get when they read something that's initially incomprehensible, and then finally understand it. They talk about that thrill, combined with the secret, illicit pleasure of knowing that other people don't understand it - that you're special, you've cracked the code.

And so we can't just talk about texts - any texts, Theory, popular culture, etc. We always have to talk about the relationship - between the texts, and the specific audience, or perhaps even viewer, who is interpreting them.

Behind the Scenes: Beautiful Things in Popular Culture (Part One)

A little while ago, I raised the question of whether one can be a "fan" of high culture and was pleased to see a high level of interest in this question. I am excited to report that there is a new book, Beautiful Things in Popular Culture, which pushes even deeper into the question of how we evaluate various forms of popular culture and how those evaluations do or do not connect with the ways we assess work in high culture. Alan McKee, who teaches in the Creative Industires program at Queensland University of Technology (which I increasingly think of as the sister program to Comparative Media Studies), has brought together a world class mix of academics, fans, and journalists, who share with us what they see as "best of breed" examples across a range of different sites of popular aesthetics. So we get Will Brooker on the Best Batman Story (The Dark Knight Returns), Sue Turnbull on the Best Serial Killer Novel (Red Dragon), Thomas McLaughlin on the Best Basketball Player (Michael Jordan), Simon Frith on the Best Disco Record ("Never Give Up"), Sara Gwenllian Jones on the Best Villain in Xena:Warrior Princess (Alti), and John Hartley on the Best Propaganda (Humphrey Jennings, The Silent Village).

As this sample of the categories and judgements suggest, all of these claims are open to debate and that's precisely the point. Contributors were asked to offer "defensible" but not "definitive" choices and then to deal precisely with the terms of debate that might shape the judgements we make in these particular sectors. If the categories here seem like a grab bag -- and trust me, there are some even more surprising categories here such as the Best Motorbike, the Best Australian Romance Novelist, and the Best Website for Men who have Sex with Other Men -- then it is because popular culture is not a unified field, not one thing that can be simply contrasted with high culture. (Of course, high culture is also not one thing but that's a debate for another day.)

We would never judge Lisistrada, Everyman, Mother Courage, Oklahoma, A Noh drama, and A Doll's House by the same criteria -- each gets read according to terms defined minimally by a specific tradition and historical period and in some cases, by specific artists. (I never stop laughing at the college journalist who reviewed a Brecht play and complained that he just couldn't identify with the characters.) So, why should we apply a single set of criteria to talk about popular culture and why in the world should that criteria get defined by the norms of high culture?

I will admit that I am biased since I have a piece in this particular collection -- The Best Contemporary Mainstream Superhero Comics Writer (Brian Michael Bendis) -- which I will excerpt here in a few days time. But I have rarely enjoyed reading any "academic" book as much as this one. McKee is an editor who values lively and personally engaged writing, someone who pushed all of the contributors to write to a general readership, and for once, they listened. I never knew academic prose could be this fun! And underlying it all are some powerful ideas about how we value the culture we consume.

I wanted to share some of McKee's own thinking on this topic with my readers, so I asked him to address some core questions about the book's premises and will run the interview here in two parts.

What constitutes a "beautiful thing" in the book's terms and how do we recognize

one when we see it?

A 'beautiful thing' is the best example of an area of culture - the best serial killer novel, pair of sneakers, disco record ... I decided to use 'beautiful' rather than 'best' because it ties us into the tradition of aesthetic judgments that has been jealously guarded by fans of high culture. And I love the idea that, in the case of the chapter on 'the best website for men who have sex with men', that webpages full of arse-fucking can be, in their own way, 'beautiful'.

And how do we judge what's 'the best' in a given area? How do we recognize a beautiful thing when we see it? The key here is that 'we' might not recognize it - 'we' - cultural theorists, researchers, academics - may in fact have to speak to the experts in the area, and ask them to explain to us what is beautiful and why it is so.

That's a challenging idea for some Cultural Studies academics. Because there's a still a strong remnant in Cultural Studies of the Literary Studies idea that what distinguishes us as academics - the reason that we're worth our salaries - is because we've learned how to 'read' texts better than other people. Traditionally in Literary Studies one learned to read more 'sensitively', to understand the art in books that common people simply couldn't see (my first degree was in Literary Studies - in fact I got a medal for the 'Most Distinguished Shakespearean Scholar' at the University of Glasgow! - so I'm familiar with this tradition). In Cultural Studies, it's a similar thing - except we're trained to think that our readings are better, not because they're more sensitive to the art, but because we can see the 'truth' of ideology, exploitation, hidden capitalist messages, that the masses don't see because they're blinded by hegemonic processes, or not fully educated ...

And so, to abandon that idea, and to think that we might actually be interested in - respectful of, and learn from - consumers talking about the interpretations that they make of texts ... well, it's a challenging idea for a lot of academics!

That of course, leads on to the question - if we're not intellectually superior to the masses, and they don't need us to lead them out of the darkness and show them the correct, 'true', anti-capitalistic interpretations of culture, then what is the purpose of academics? In brief I think that the answer lies in focusing on the 'anthropological' element of defining cultures. Nobody suggests that anthropologists should be telling the people they observe that their culture is wrong, and they're blind not to see that. Personally, I don't agree with some of the claims that anthropology makes to objectivity. But it's still acknowledged that anthropology - trying to understand how a culture operates - can produce valuable knowledge.

A central goal of this book is to revitalize the place of evaluation in the writing about popular culture. Why do you think Cultural Studies has moved so far away from a focus on evaluation and what have we lost as a consequence?

I completely understand why Cultural Studies has a problem with evaluation - I've avoided it myself for many years. It's because there has been so little awareness by academics in any area - including in Cultural Studies - of the aesthetic systems of popular culture. That meant that you could pretty much guarantee that whenever anybody said 'we have to reintroduce aesthetics/evaluation into Cultural Studies', what they meant was 'we have to reintroduce high-culture aesthetic systems into the study of popular culture - and start studying television programs in terms of literary values such as philosophical themes, and references to T S Eliot', and so on. Which is, of course, completely the wrong way to go about things.

Why have we thought that 'aesthetic systems' automatically means 'high culture's aesthetic systems?'. Well, it's been hard to get away from the idea that an aesthetic system must be unitary. The idea that we could have multiple, irreconcilable, overlapping aesthetic systems coexisting has taken a long time to get established. I suppose it's because, in order to do that, you pretty much have to throw out everything in the philosophy of aesthetics from Kant onwards and start again. Which I'm pretty happy to do, personally. But I know that not everyone is!

What has really surprised - and upset - me, working in Cultural Studies is the extent to which Cultural Studies has managed to smuggle traditional forms of aesthetic evaluation back in by the back door. We don't say that art is superior to popular culture because it reveals insight into universal truths about humanity. Oh no - we say that art is superior to popular culture because art is politically progressive, and genuinely challenges capitalism, whereas popular culture is inextricably tied up in the capitalist economy within which it is produced .... It's so depressing to hear this kind of nonsense. It really is just traditional snobbery dressed up in new arguments. And that has been the place that evaluation has played in Cultural Studies. We've kind of forgotten what we all know to be true, about the power relations and class relations involved in making judgments about what is good and bad culture - and fallen right back into lazy thinking about art being superior to mass culture. I blame Adorno. I mean, you read his work on 'The culture industry', and it's so obvious that he doesn't know anything about popular culture, he's never consumed any popular culture - in fact, it seems like he's never even spoken to anybody who's ever consumed any popular culture!

So we've thoughtlessly accepted old prejudices about cultural value, smuggled in via the back door, which is one problem. And a second problem is that by refusing to study evaluative judgments in an anthropological sense, we've actually accepted the myth, perpetuated by the snobs, that mass culture is all the same. We actually play into their hands. But you can make an anthropological, or perhaps a sociological, study of aesthetic systems - one that asks how the consumers of popular culture make these judgments. And that isn't the opposite of aesthetic thinking - it's directly linked to it. It means that you can ask people 'Why do you love this program, this book, this comic, so much?'. And then listen to their answers. It's a simple idea - and yet, it hasn't been done before.

The question you posed to your contributors -- what constitutes the "best" in class within a given form of popular culture -- is the stuff of many barroom conversations. I suppose that's part of the point: we can't talk about popular

culture without debating values and evaluation. But what do we as academics bring to that discussion which wasn't already a part of fan knowledge and expertise?

I gestured towards this question before - if we're not telling people that their interpretations are wrong, what is our function? How do we earn our hefty Professorial salaries, with associated benefits? As I said above, there is an anthropological function, trying to understand cultures better. And more than this, we can then act as translators, letting groups know about each other. The information that we gather is fan knowledge. We can bring that together, synthesise it, and put it into forms that different groups can access. Our skills here are in editing, building networks, understanding genres and communication and so on. And ultimately we can then help different parts of culture to be aware of each other. That's an extremely important - and a very political - thing to do. I'm an old fashioned utopian, and my vision of the ideal world is a soppy, hippie, love-drenched place where people actually find ways to live together. I reveal this at one point in the book where I get all misty-eyed and say "knowing that there are people who do love and think about and discuss things that don't engage me isn't a threat to my way of thinking. It's a source of delight. The more joy that's in the world, the better for all of us, I say". I know - I'm a sad old hippie. But it does seem to me that one of the most positive aspects of our mature capitalist democracies is that different groups in society are becoming more and more familiar to each other, and there's an increasing interchange of ideas between cultures - across races, genders, sexualities and nationalities. I think that pretty much everybody would agree that the average, non-university-educated white man, for example, currently knows more about Black culture, or women's culture, or queer culture, than they have at any point in the history of Western culture, simply because of the increasing visibility and recognition of those cultures in mass popular entertainment.

I'm afraid I also have to say that one of the main forces working against such cultural exchange is humanities academics and cultural theorists, who want to insist that there is only one good form of culture - rational, informed, artistic, high-quality public debate - and that other forms of culture - Black culture or women's culture or queer culture, rap, debates about body image, emotional forms of communication and so on - are worthless. It bothers me that 'my people' (academics) are struggling so hard against what seems to me to be one of the most positive aspects of our cultures.

Behind the Scenes: Designing Rocketo

rocketo.png Last Friday, we hosted our orientation for new and returning graduate students in the Comparative Media Studies Program. One of the featured speakers on the program was Frank Espinosa, the creator, writer, and artist behind Rocketo, a comic book series which he is self-publishing through Image comics.

Rocketo has been singled out by Entertainment Magazine as one of the best new comics and is currently in the running for three Eisner Awards. Espinosa came to comics following an extensive career working in animation at Disney and Warner Brothers, which included contributions to the redesign of the classic Warner Brothers characters and the writing of the in-house guidebook for their animators and work in the design of toys, games, and theme park attractions.

Rocketo is not like any comic you have ever held in your hands before -- for one thing, it's an adventure comic (decisively not a superhero saga) at a time when this genre has all but disappeared from view. It borrows as much from classic science fiction (the Lensman books, Cordwainer Smith, among others) as it does from classic mythology (Harpies and Kraken anyone). From the first page, you realize you are entering into a thoroughly imagined, deeply immersive world -- one which mirrors our own and yet is strangely different at the same time -- a world fully stocked with interesting creatures, strange lands, and well defined characters. For another, it's structured horizontally; the artwork is highly expressive and often abstracted (reminding me at times of the most accomplished work to come out of UPA during the 1950). His use of color to capture emotion and movement is nothing short of breathtaking. Rocketo is a remarkable blending of the pulp elements of popular culture and the formal experimentation one associates with the outer limits of alternative comics. The first graphic novel, Adventures in the Hidden Sea, has been published and he is just now finishing his first story arc dealing with this character.

We are lucky enough to have Espinosa as a Martin Luther King Fellow in our program for the coming year, where he will be teaching classes in Character Design and World Building, as well as supporting some of our efforts in educational games and media literacy.

We recorded Espinosa's talk as an experiment and I figured I would pass it along to my readers here. Every Thursday, throughout the term, the Comparative Media Studies Program hosts a speaker series. The series is designed to introduce our students to cutting edge developments in all of the sites being impacted by media change. So, we may bring in a comics artist one week, an advertising executive the next, a filmmaker the week after, and an activist the week after that. We try to mix and match media, to combine academic and practioners, but to keep it all lively and informal. Some weeks, we host large scale public events through the MIT Communications Forum. The Forum has long had webcast versions of its programs, such as this one featuring television writer David Milch (Hill Street Blues, NYPD Blues, Deadwood) or this one featuring long-time film industry spokesperson Jack Valenti. As of this term, we are also going to be offering podcasts of our events and I will be flagging them for my readers.

What follows are a few of the highlights of his talk but there's no way to fully capture his wicked sense of humor, his rambunctious intellect and his engaging personality, all of which come through well in this podcast.

Espinosa shared something of the creative process which led to Rocketo. As an animator, he was fascinated with the challenges of telling stories through comics with "no sound, no movement." The book, which deals with a heroic explorer and map-maker, reflected his childhood fascination with the adventures of real world explorers as well as such works as Thief of Baghdad, Flash Gordon, and Terry and the Pirates. He lamented the shift in contemporary science fiction away from space exploration and towards "fighting viruses and Klingons." The book also reflected his fascination with ancient maps when large parts of the world were still unknown and when uncharted territory might be imagined to be the site of strange creatures or exotic peoples. Yet, though he draws on classic influences, he also taps contemporary tensions in the culture, designing a subplot about Rocketo returning home from a war, destroyed and emotionally devastated, in response to news reports from Baghdad.

The world itself started to take shape around "my crazy passion for birdmen and tigermen" and his desires to situate such man/animal hybrid into a coherent and rationalized world. He went through a process of problem solving: How could there be tigermen? Why would you create one in the first place? How do you create a world that allows for exploration and how do you populate it with tigermen? In trying to answer these questions, Espinosa was drawn towards the realm of post-apocalyptic science fiction. He disliked the dirty looking futures represented in the Mad Max series and yet he wanted to see what would happen if he destroyed the world and then resorted the pieces: "now the continents are broken and reconfigured. This gives us a reason to explore again." He populates the world with a variety of genetic mutants, thus providing a rationale for his Tigermen.

Turning his attention to his protagonist, Rocketo, Espinosa explained, "The hero had to be special. Otherwise, the birdmen will steal the show." Rocketo was literally born to be a hero: his parents come from much generation of explorers and mappers; they were genetic designed so that they have a "living compass" under their skin which allows them to navigate in a world which no longer has a magnetic field. Rocketo, he suggests, is "Marco Polo...not motivated by power, lust or money... but by the desire to see new worlds." He can change his body into steel and become a human space ship.

Along side Rocketo stands Spiro, a dogman. His whole family are psychotic warriors but he turns out to be a guy who just wants to live to see another day and if possible, come out on top of one of his many money making schemes. As he explained, "Spiro gave me trouble from day one -- Rocketo is genetically designed to be a hero. Spiro's the hero because he has to make choices." Spiro started out as a "really mean character -- a human pit bull" but he got softer as the book evolved. Espinosa kept searching for an archetype through which to understand this character and finally began to hear Spiro's dialogue being delivered in Humphrey Bogart's voice from Treasure of the Sierra Madre.

As he talks, it is clear that Espinosa takes great pleasure in the freedom that independent comics allows him. For the first time, he says, he is producing his own comics: "there's no Bugs Bunny in it anywhere." As he told the students, Disney asserted claims over everything he produced but Warners was more lax, allowing him time to sit and reflect on his own projects and thus to slowly develop the core concepts and designs that would feed into Rocketo over a five or six year period. The story and themes of Rocketo emerged from an earlier comics project -- Major Rocket -- which was a "funny version of Flash Gordon" and had been aimed for kids. The new book targeted adults but kept Rocket in the name out of "nostalgia." He conceded that the book would have done better in the current market if Rocketo had a "big logo on his chest and wore a mask.": "America is the land of superheroes, whether we like it or not." But the comic has attracted a particularly strong following in Europe, which values its distinctive look and feel and responds well to its borrowings from expressionistic art.

His shattered world framework allows him to mix and match styles and themes from across the planet, to depict ancient Trojan warships in German Expressionist style, to draw his Harpies as if they were African masks brought to life and his Earthmen as if they were walking and talking versions of the heads found on Easter Island, to create multiple variants of flying giraffes and to mix them with mechanisms straight out of Jules Verne, to combine islands which are living coral reefs with giant robots that could destroy the planet and "totem poles as large as the Empire State Building." More than anything else, Espinosa communicated to my students the degree to which even the most idiosyncratic work builds upon a cultural reservoir and takes inspiration from other artist's works. As he explained, "never close your mind to any influence...Every problem has been solved" by some earlier artist or cultural tradition. And so he spends a great deal of time in research -- even though the comic itself is so stylized in its presentation and so wild-eyed in its imagination.

Espinosa suggests that his visual style emerges because he still thinks about comics through the eyes of an animator. In animation, he argues, exaggeration is the norm and if you want to make things realistic, you would be better off photographing them. He suggests that his artwork is interested in capturing movement ("how the torso moves at a particular moment") rather than detail ("How the chain mail fits around the chest"). He wants to convey "the shape of the movement" and allows his colors to do most of the work, suggesting rather than filling in what happens: "Let your mind paint the rest. You are a much better artist than I am." Espinosa described himself as someone who liked to work fest and analyze his choices later, trying to preserve the spontaneous energy and improvisational impulses that shape his work rather than seeking too polished a product.

Espinosa's talk gave our students a vivid picture of his own creative process, the ways that his work is informed by influences that run across history, across media, and across national borders, and the ways that his work depends on the skills in character design and worldbuilding that he will be teaching in his classes this year.

Television Goes Multiplatform

It's hard to believe that it was less than a year ago that Apple launched the video Ipod and the ABC television group was the first to announce a serious commitment to make its top rated television shows accessible to consumers via legal downloads. Within a few weeks time, the other networks were forced to cut their own deals with Apple paving the way of a new era of rerun on demand. A document shared with me recently from one of our corporate research partners gave me a glimpse into just how dramatically the landscape of American television has changed, providing a breakdown network by network of the various platforms through which one could access their content.

ABC, CBS, NBC, and Fox all make at least some of their series available for download through iTunes, as do 41 different cable networks.

ABC has been experimenting this summer with ad-supported (i.e. free) downloads of episodes of Commander in Chief, Grey's Anatomy, and Lost at ABC.com and plans to extend the service to include a range of other series this fall.

CBS has launched a similar service over at Intertube -- for example, my wife and I have been catching up this week on a full season of episodes of Big Brother: All-Stars -- and the network has already announced that people will be able to download free episodes of Jericho, NCIS, and the various CSI series the day after they are aired. The other major networks are so far only offering streaming clips and news reports, not yet full episodes. The free episodes come with commercials embedded but so far, it is relatively easy to scan past them.

Several of the major networks are producing extensions of their regular series specifically for those accessing via these other platforms: NBC, for example, is offering mobisodes of The Office via NBC.com; ABC has a special behind the scenes podcast for Lost and will soon be adding Lost Video Diary, which focus on secondary and rarely seen characters for those watching on mobile phones.

All of the major networks are doing at least some experiments making content available via mobile devices, including deals by ABC (with Verizon), Fox (with Sprint and Verizon), and NBC (with Verizon).

CBS is making content available via both Yahoo.com and Google Video; Fox via MySpace and CinemaNow; NBC via YouTube.

All of this points towards a world where consumers can watch the content they want when they want it and where they want it and they can do so with a range of different options from paying to watch advertising free content to watching advertising-supported content for free. Not every show is available in all formats yet. Most of the networks are testing a few platforms at a time. They are still offering only selected series. But there's no question at this point that these various platforms are going to be increasingly central to the ways we watch television.

The cable networks have been even quicker to embrace these alternative media platforms -- though there is some tension between the network's desires to reach the broadest possible public (including many who simply do not have access to the networks via their local cable companies) and the affiliate's desire to have exclusive access to content which they can sell to their subscribers.

Some see these trends as representing the next step towards the disagregation of television content -- that is to say, consumers will follow individual series with little regard to their time slots or network placements. For some of us, that moment is already here. I have students who never watch live television, prefering to download everything they watch (legally or otherwise). In my own case, I am moving more slowly in this direction. I got started watching highlights of The Daily Show on the web because the MIT dorms don't get Comedy Central. I ended up watching the season finale of Survivor via CBS's website later the same day because I was traveling when it first aired. I ended up watching most of Season 2 Lost via various downloads (mostly legal). And as mentioned earlier, I am now catching up with Big Brother since I was without television reception most of the summer and people had told me it was one of the better runs of the series. (Indeed, having seen most of the episodes, I would agree).

Rerun in Demand is the logical response to the increased serialization of American television: we've seen over the past decade more and more shows which have tightly interwoven plots, extended story arcs, recurring emphasis on backstory and program history. Such series reward regular viewing and punish people who miss episodes. Such episodes historically were considered high risk by networks. They could lose viewers who became disinterested but they were hard to join in progress and old style broadcasting gave viewers no way to go back and see what they missed. Tivo provided viewers with some tools to stay on top of series they were watching thanks to the season pass feature but they offered no good way to go back and join an ongoing series until, minimally, the end of the season, when the episodes might be available on DVD. Often, the DVD sets have come out at the very end of the summer or even into the fall, making it hard to catch up before the second season episodes started to air. This season, a high percentage of the new series have story arc structures: indeed, many of them seem designed to last a single season or less. We should be watching to see if any of them benefit from the combination of word of mouth via the web and alternative ways of accessing previously aired materials? Will some of them experience increases in viewership as the season moves forward? And if so, which ones?

As I was finishing this post, I received a link to an interesting story about SciFi Channel developing a web series to generate interest around Battlestar Gallactica. Here's what the New York Times had to say about it:

The 10 Web segments, each just a few minutes long and viewable on devices ranging from iPods to laptops to desktops to full-size television sets, feature characters from the television show. And they have the same dark feel of broadcast episodes of Galactica, a post-apocalyptic survival tale of humans on the run after their home planets have been destroyed. The mini-episodes will go online, one at a time, on Tuesday and Thursday nights until "Galactica's" season premiere on Oct. 6. They focus on two soldiers in a new city built by humans fleeing Cylons, a race of machines that has wiped out human civilization elsewhere. The two face difficult choices about how -- or whether -- to fight back against a new Cylon invasion, the climactic moment of last season. Their decisions will help explain their actions in future on-air episodes.

This sounds like a classic example of what my book calls transmedia storytelling -- the use of the web not to remediate existing content from the series but to develop an extension of the fictional world which enhances our experience of watching the series. I am not watching this particular series but would be interested to hear from fans of the series about their impressions of what these web-based episodes bring to the experience.

Experimenting with Brands in Second Life

In 1954, Frederick Pohl, a gifted social satirist and science fiction writer, published the short story, "The Tunnel Under the World", which should have been made into a first rate Twilight Zone episode. A man wakes up in bed next to his wife, gets up, and goes to work, and along the way, he starts to sense that there's something subtly different about his world:

He had been exposed to the captive-audience commercials so long that they hardly registered on the outer ear any more, but what was coming from the recorded program in the basement of the building caught his attention. It wasn't merely that the brands were most unfamiliar; it was a difference in pattern.

But no one else seems to have noticed that the entire adscape has changed overnight. And then it happens again, and again, and again. By the end of the story, he discovers that he is living inside a consumer research experiment:

They aren't Russians and they aren't Martians. These people are advertising men! Somehow -- heaven knows how they did it -- they've taken Tylerton over. They've got us, all of us, you and me and twenty or thirty thousand other people -- right under their thumbs. Maybe they hypnotize us and maybe it's something else; but however they do it, what happens is they let us live a day at a time. They pour advertising into us the whole damned day long. And at the end of the day they see what happened -- and then they wash the day out of our minds and start again the next day with different advertising....They test every last detail before they spend a nickle on advertising!

Pohl's short story about this microworld that allows Madison Avenue to run experiments on consumers anticipates the role that brands and advertising will play in new multiplayer game worlds such as Second Life. Second Life has been one of the hot new stories in participatory culture in recent months. Yochai Benkler's The Wealth of Networks uses SL as a primary example of the grassroots energies being unleashed in network society. Educators are increasingly experimented with the affordances of this space with Harvard's Berkman Center teaching a course in intellectual property law this term open to Harvard students and their avitars. Psychologists are using Second Life to conduct therapy -- especially for autistic patients for whom it can represent a gradual introduction into reading and communicating cues about emotional states during social interactions. There are experiments going on that are exploring new governance structures in political science, new forms of community in sociology, and new modes of transaction in economics. Activists are using the space to increase public awareness of their concerns. And sexual minorities are finding new outlets for erotic expression amid the hidden corners of this world.

We might think of Second Life as a platform for thought experiments -- a place where we can test ideas that might not be ready for prime time, where we can experiment with new ways of being on both a personal and communal level. If you can think it, you can build it on Second Life, and so far, if you build it, they will come. Some have called Second Life the digital counterpart of Burning Man -- a place where people come to see and be seen, to build and to see what others have built, and to celebrate their power to reimagine the terms with which they conduct their everyday lives.

One of the recent graduates of the Comparative Media Studies master's program, Ilya Vedrashko, has been exploring the relationship between games and advertising. The Russian-born Vedrashko is perhaps the most unapologetic capitalist to ever pass through our program. He has found his calling in exploring the ways new media technologies can give rise to alternative approaches to brands and advertising. He has started blog on the future of advertising and a second on advertising through games. He recently posted his thesis online. Vedrashko now works at the Boston-based agency, Hiill Holliday, analyzing trends in emerging media that impact the advertising world. It is perhaps inevitable that he would turn his attention to Second Life, where players are generating their own versions of familiar advertising icons and forming their own agencies while corporations are looking for ways of making their own presences known in this ecclectic and rapidly evolving environment.

The following text is taken directly from Vedrashko's thesis.

What Is Second Life

Second Life, whose membership has tripled in the past six months (January-July of 2006) to surpass 300,000 players, has recently landed on the cover of Business Week that wrote, "It's hard to imagine a less corporate setting than the often bizarre online virtual worlds such as Second Life. But to a surprising extent, mainstream businesses are already dipping their toes into the virtual water." Second Life, whose player base was only 30,000 a year ago, is undergoing a remarkable transformation from a little-known hobby for geeks to what can now be defined as almost-the-edge-of-the-outer-fringes-of-mainstream.

Second Life is still no MySpace.com in its mass appeal, but among its residents are high-level executives, writers, journalists and the rest of the public-opinion-shaping digerati. As far as the virtual social networking applications go, it has been able to avoid many of the problems plaguing the popular online teen hangout. Second Life has corralled everyone under the age of 18 into a walled garden impermeable to adults, solving the issue of child safety before it had a chance to arise. Its business model relies on subscriptions instead of advertising for revenue -- Second Life sells what it calls land but what in effect is server space with game templates. This has allowed the Second Life makers at Linden Lab to adopt a laissez-faire approach to all marketing activity that goes on inside their game. Every player can advertise anything without having to pay the company, and becoming a resident is as easy as downloading Second Life software and installing it on a sufficiently powerful computer.

For the uninitiated, here is some background. As mentioned earlier, Second Life (SL for brevity) lacks any overarching objectives (kill the monster and save the princess) and scoring, and is technically not a game at all. Linden Lab insists on defining it as a 3-D virtual world, but a rather fitting description was offered by Wagner James Au who spent three years as SL's embedded journalist: "[I]t's just a weird cross between a 3D development platform and a chat program, AutoCAD meets the Sims." The world sprawls across hundreds of servers, called sims, that are all connected into one grid. Unlike many other massively multiplayer games, SL is not divided into parallel realities or shards, which means that all players can see each other regardless of the server on which they are located. All of the game assets, its avatars, buildings, land and everything else, are hosted on Linden Lab's servers so the only way to experience the world is through an Internet connection. The only thing that resides on the player's computer is the so-called client that visualizes the world-related information and is best thought of as a specialized 3-D web browser. The client also comes with editing and scripting tools that allow players to create, edit, color, texture and animate three-dimensional objects, and add lighting effects. This particular capability combined with the in-world economic infrastructure that facilitates trading and stimulates it by making the game's Linden dollars convertible into the real currency is what drives the players' creative and entrepreneurial genius. The introductory kit for new avatars contains some pants and shirts, a few household items and, significantly, a basic shopkeeper kit complete with a small booth, a showcase and a blank signboard.

On any single day, the value of transactions between players tops $100,000 in real-world money. Everything imaginable is for sale: cars, trucks, houses, castles and skyscrapers, clothes, avatar bodies and body parts, hair, shoes, flowers, guns that shoot watermelons, flying cows, mountains, theme parks, tornadoes, holodecks and things unmentionable in a thesis. If something isn't available, someone will design it for you. The stores are abundant and commercial activity continues outside the world's boundaries on the websites set up by entrepreneurial residents.

The supply of goods is so high and the competition is so strong that the world's economy warrants its own advertising infrastructure. SL businesspeople whose real-life careers are often lie in unrelated fields and whose knowledge of advertising practices might have been limited are quickly learning the skills of copyrighters, art directors, merchandisers and media planners all at once. For them, an in-world magazine packed with business advice was launched in August of 2006.

Design Your Own Advertising

Many SL companies have already built what can be objectively regarded as brands in the sense that their business or product names are highly recognizable, associated with a particular image and can command a price premium on perceived product value; Betsy Book in her paper profiled two such SL brands and the strategies behind them. Strong brands can be found in many different categories: from clothing to homes, from avatar design to digital interactive genitalia.

While players can advertise their wares on the SL's official classifieds listings, many more turn to the world's independent advertising industry. They can contract services of design firms or purchase hi-tech signboards that float, rotate and flash in mid-air. They can hire one of the many modeling agencies to have their in-store signage professionally decorated. (While there are still no highly recognizable super-model names in Second Life, players with a rich collection of scripted modeling poses and an outstanding avatar design command hourly fees that can easily cover a month of rent of an in-game castle.) Shopkeepers and club owners can equip their businesses with any number of automatic vendors, sales robots, greeting systems, pagers, and camping chairs that pay residents to spend time in their establishments. Many give away free merchandise along with a business card and a bookmark to their location, or hire hosts and event managers to run their promotions.

The SL advertising market is booming. A player whose in-game name is Ruthe Underthorn has created MetaAdverse, a network of billboards placed throughout the world in high-traffic areas such as malls and clubs, and its technology can rival Massive's or IGA's in technical sophistication. Property owners place MetaAdverse's signs on their land for a 70-percent cut of the revenue. Advertisers feed their messages to the billboards belonging to MetaAdverse and the amount they pay depends on how many people have faced the sign directly, for how long and from what distance. In my exploration of the world, I have discovered at least three other billboard networks competing with MetaAdverse.

As the SL's technology evolves, new media forms come to life and with them -- new advertising opportunities. Live streaming radio shows developed specifically for the game sell advertising time, and so do in-game newspapers. Potential for video advertising exists as well; many SL homes are equipped with TV sets that stream video clips and some entrepreneurs sell ad time on those as well. TV shows with their own machinima production have also started to appear as the game's creative population grows.

Like many other games that can be modified by players, Second Life is peppered with user-created objects carrying real-world logos. My own inventory includes a larger-than-life bottle of Absolut vodka, a Corona t-shirt, an entire Hooters outfit, a pack of Marlboros, a Mac laptop, a Honda motorcycle, a case of Mountain Dew, a pair of Elmo slippers. Vending machines giving away or selling Coke, Pepsi and common snacks are a common sight in SL clubs; one can be bought for about 30 American cents. Replicas of NASCAR racing cars are emblazoned with logos of their real-world sponsors. All this brand equity is built on pure enthusiasm without a dollar spent on product placement by the trademark holders.

I have once stumbled across a resident-run store that sells iPods, Shuffles and Nanos that come preloaded with a set of popular songs (I bought instead an outfit that transformed my avatar into a walking iPod silhouette ad.) On another occasion, I rented a real-world movie from a Blockbuster-looking store. The success of these businesses - the movie store was part of a large and supposedly profitable chain -- or their very existence indicates that Second Life can become a model for content distribution that is based on a curious paradox with a new twist to Nicholas Negroponte's model of bits and atoms. When viewed from the outside, all of Second Life's assets can be considered "content", and the "bona fide content" -- music and video -- even more so. Yet when viewed from within the game, this "content" acquires certain tangibility and the assets become objects with their own volume, mass, clearly defined boundaries and often a price tag. Within this new coordinate system, content distribution as perceived from within SL seizes to be the process of streaming bits and once again becomes the task of shipping atoms that can be counted, tracked, and locked up when needed. Second Life provides a theoretically unbreakable way for item creators to limit distribution and modification of their wares by marking them with any of the three flags "no copy", "no modify", and "no transfer", and in this sense the objectified music and videos are no different from shirts and coffee mugs. SL thus becomes an overarching meta-DRM system: the only way to copy a movie marked with "no copy" and "no transfer" flags is to screen-grab the entire game from the outside.

The real meets the Second Life's virtual in many other ways. The tribute to Pink Floyd takes shape of a small hut covered all over with the band's art, with a continuously running soundtrack inside. A similar monument to Grateful Dead is a dizzying complex complete with a hot tub inside a spinning psychedelic globe. There are replicas of individual famous buildings -- such as the Twin Towers -- and the whole blocks of Manhattan, San Francisco and Amsterdam. Residents are also recreating famous fictional spaces -- the Second Life blog wrote about Counter-Strike and Mario Brothers levels built in SL's construction areas, and there are many more. One island sells avatar bodies modeled and equipped after real-world movie characters including the entire cast of Harry Potter. For a modest amount of money, you can have your avatar's body custom-made to resemble any celebrity, from Lenin to Johnny Depp. A dedicated group of players regularly puts out public tribute U2 concerts where avatars closely resembling Bono, the Edge and the rest of the band are animated on stage in sync with the streaming soundtrack.

Modding Corporate Style

The world's creative flexibility coupled with the pioneering spirit of its residents makes Second Life an attractive sandbox for advertisers willing to experiment with new ideas that might be difficult or costly to try elsewhere. Some are already taking notice. The Wells Fargo bank built a private Stagecoach Island area designed to educate kids on the basics of money management (the company later moved the island to a similar environment, Active Worlds, citing technical issues). BBC runs an SL studio where it records regular shows for broadcasts in the outside world. The movie giant 20th Century Fox organized an in-game promotion of its X-Men sequel. Warner Brothers threw a release party for its artist Regina Spektor. Major League Baseball put together a simulcast of the Home Run Derby on a specially designed stadium with the real-time reenactment of the game. One day, we might see TV commercials played out in a similar theater-like manner instead of being shown on a flat screen, or bump into artificially intelligent Burger King mascots handing out whoppers at virtual sports events. In its cover story on Second Life, Business Week described many other ways in which real-world companies engage with the world. Head of technology at an underground tank testing firm uses the game as a training environment for new hires. A PR company set up SL headquarters to "provide companies a fascinating way to build new bridges to their key audiences, whether for marketing purposes, customer support or customer feedback." Residential architect Jon Brouchoud created, textured and showed a 3-D model of a real house commissioned by his clients, all in Second Life.

This, of course, is only the beginning. As the platform's technological sophistication and its links to the outside world grow -- Linden Lab is working on integrating a standard web browser into the game and sending emails into and from the world is already possible -- so does its attractiveness to outside businesses. One can imagine a travel agency building models of its destinations, from hotels and cruise ships to exotic islands. Ikea could work with the fan base to showcase its catalog in three dimensions and let players try its virtual furniture in their virtual homes. Universities, some of which are already building in-world presence, could conduct open houses to court prospective students.

If a single 3-D game-like platform emerges and gets widely adopted and if Second Life

and similar worlds are indeed precursor of the three-dimensional web to come, advertisers would be better off by exploring the opportunities and challenges these environments present while the scale is still small and mistakes are affordable.

The challenges will be many. One issue that is likely to loom big is privacy. The extreme level of detail with which games and avatars can be tracked and measured is both a goldmine and a ticking time bomb in the hands of marketers. It is a goldmine because virtual billboards will soon be able to tap into the enormous databases that have records on every single transaction, utterance and head nod of every avatar and serve individualized messages based on the customer's entire life history in all its complexity. When AOL inadvertently released a database containing results of millions of search queries submitted by more than half a million users, called it "catalog of intentions". If Paul Hemp is correct in his suggestion that the way avatars dress up, behave and socialize tells us something about their owners, then worlds such as are catalogs not only of intentions but also of fantasies, fetishes, beliefs, aspirations and repressed desires that have found their symbolic manifestations -- everything marketers today are trying to suss out with the help of focus groups.

It's a ticking time bomb because Second Life is much more Orwellian in its omniscience than anything existing on the public Internet with its decentralized structure. On the Internet, AOL may know something about the user and Amazon may know something else but the two don't share their information to create a holistic picture. Second Life, on the other hand, is a proprietary walled and self-containing garden whose infrastructure and intelligence gathering spans the entire user cycle from shopping to private instant messaging.

On the micro level, designing a commercial experience in a 3D environment is likely to be different from developing a "flat" web shop. Thinking in three dimensions of a social world endowed with physical properties will mean calculating the ceiling height, for example, to accommodate for customers who prefer flying to walking. While a popular web store may serve thousands of customers simultaneously, each of them shops from his own parallel on-screen universe with little interaction with the others. Clothing stores in Second Life, on the other hand, are more like real-world malls filled with customers sharing impressions and offering fashion advice in real time. Merchandising -- the science of displaying goods on store shelves -- will have to learn how to retain the visual appeal of the real-world racks while combining it with the effectiveness of online search and categorization. When sabotage (hacking, phishing, scamming and denial of service attacks) of online stores is a major concern, the solutions are also evident if not always feasible -- patch the hole and call in the cops. But what are shopkeepers to do if their stores are blocked by avatars protesting unfair trade practices?

Speaking of unfair trade practices, the foray of real-world businesses into Second Life has not been greeted with universal excitement, although the reasons for players' wariness are changing. If two years ago a private island where a marketing company had set up shop was picketed by SL residents because they felt the intrusion would ruin their carefully crafted escapist haven, today their concerns are more pragmatic and are not likely to go away as easily. Some fear that their budding SL family businesses will have to compete with cash-rich and marketing-savvy business empires for which Second Life is just another foreign market ripe for expansion. Others think that real businesses will upset the virtual world's entire fragile ecosystem. Today, in-game entrepreneurs make and sell their wares and services at prices that are significant in the game's context but the return on their time is way below the minimum wage when converted into dollars. Tomorrow, these entrepreneurs will be hired by the big businesses to produce the same -- but branded -- items and will be compensated for their efforts on the real-world pay scale, never to return to their original trades.

When Starwood Hotels and Resorts announced that it was bringing into the virtual world a model of its new Aloft hotel, a resident who runs a real-estate business of selling plots of land and renting out apartments in Second Life, Prokofy Neva, wrote in his comments to a blog post:

It's not about me or others in the land business. [...] I'm trying to use my experience to speak to the much larger issue going on here: big business from RL, helped by a few who were able to leverage their experience into "RL-in-SL companies", are displacing the *need* for business inworld and displacing *the transactions* of business as well as the Lindens *change the features and the client and their orientation toward these kinds of businesses, and not inworld customer-created businesses.* [...]

I wouldn't be able to see what is happening so clearly if I hadn't been able to see what happens to countries in the real world, like a Georgia or Ukraine, when the indigenous economies were able to sustain people without them leaving for guestworker status elsewhere or be drawn into sex trafficking, before the World Bank or Chevron or whatever came in and displaced their economies. This is a worldwide phenomenon, part of globalization.

SL is now globalized."

With Linden Lab actively welcoming the expansion of big businesses into its realm, perhaps it's time for Naomi Klein to revise her No Logo to include a chapter on free-trade zones and sweatshop labor of the virtual third world.

Picking Favorites: The Flow Television Poll

As a periodic contributor to the online media studies webzine, Flow, I received an invitation this summer from Jason Mittell (who regularly posts comments here at this blog) to participate in a poll about the highlights of the past television season. Here's how he described our task:

The goal is to solicit the opinions of Flow's esteemed group of writers & editors (past & present) in generating a poll of the best television of the last year, as somewhat arbitrarily defined as July 1 2005 - June 30 2006. ....A few clarifications - we're looking for "new" television only, so any program or series you vote for must have aired new episodes within the 05-06 season, but it does not need to be a new series. The bulk of Flow's contributors are located in the US, so we expect the majority of entries will be American television - however, if you wish to vote for a non-US title, you may (as long as it aired new episodes within the timeframe). If you are not located in the US, you can vote for any show that aired episodes new to your region within the timeframe, including older shows just coming to your locale.... Finally, you may vote for programs that did not air on traditional television (like an online series or unaired pilot), but please include a way for the curious to find it - we are looking for "television" defined somea broadly, so you can vote for things other than a conventional series, but be sure it fits into the television medium better than cinema or another medium.

Some have speculated that there is a kind of academic canon of television -- certain shows that are watched by all academics but are not necessarily highly rated by the rest of the world (I sometimes wonder if everyone who watches Veronica Mars, for exmple, has a PhD or more improtantly, if ever PhD in the world watches the series). Or conversely, that there are programs that are highly rated across the general public but which no academic will be willing to publicly acknowledge. For the moment, I am talking about academics who are proud to say they like television. Don't get me started about the liars and hypocrites who claim not to even own a television set. So, as social experiments go, this looks to be a fascinating one.

I know in my case, it has already forced me to think about whether my taste as a fan and as an academic are necessarily alligned: are there shows that interest me intellectually but not emotionally? Are there shows I love to watch but don't really admire on that level? Are there shows I should be watching (and don't) but might want to list anyway? Are there shows that don't deserve the top ten but might benefit from my listing them more than the predictible choices that I know every other academic is going to list? (It' s pretty much a foregone conclusion that Lost is going to be in the top few vote getters here). Do I want to fall in line or signal my idiosyncratic tastes and interests? How do we pick the best in a medium whose cultural standing is still under question or where there are not widely agreed upon standards of evaluation?

Here are my choices (listed in alphabetical order). I have never been able to rank my favorites very well. You will also see that I am using some of the references here as placeholders for larger trends within the entertainment space.

Colbert at the Washington Press Club Dinner (as Seen on You-Tube): For starters, this is intended to stand in for the entire genre of news comedy -- Daily Show, Bill Mahr, and Colbert Report. Each in its own way has broadened the conversation about news and current events in this country, educating a generation of young viewers to think critically about newsmakers and newscasters alike, sparking debates about contemporary issues which might have otherwise escaped their attention, and broadening the range of voices heard in these public debates. The list of guests on these shows is significantly more diverse ideologically than what is represented on Nightline, for example. For me, Colbert's appearance at the Washington Press Club Dinner was a highlight of the year within this genre. For one thing, it took an event which long has been associated with the too comfortable relationship between the national news media and the White House and turned it around. The contrast between the skit with Bush and the Bush impersonator (easy laughs) and Colbert's performance (uncomfortable responses) says it all. Whether he was funny or not is beside the point. Seeing him speak truth to power in this context was an astonishing act of courage: the guy's career could have burst into flames at that moment. And it fascinates me that a)the story got so little play on the mainstream news but hit cyberspace so hard; b)many people who never saw this event on CSpan saw it on You-Tube. I can think of no other event last year which more powerfully demonstrated the ability of grassroots media to route around the filters of broadcast media. This, we can hope, is a sign of things to come.

Doctor Who: Within the rules of the contest, I get to play this two ways: the Christopher Eccleston version of the Doctor appeared this year for the first time in the United States (at least legally) on the Sci-Fi Channel and the David Tennant version appeared for the first time this year in England on the BBC. Both are truly spectacular contributions to science fiction television - some of the freshest and most intelligent writing for the genre in some time. As my son, who is the real Doctor Who fan in the family explains, the writers, producers, and cast seem to be starting each episode with the premise "Wouldn't it be fun if..." and then giving themselves the freedom to have fun with the material. This is a classic case of the fans taking over the franchise -- having kept it alive through some dark years -- and then getting to do with it what they want. This shift is generating excitement both in the UK and in the USA. A highlight of the series, of course, is the character of Rose Tyler -- and her chemistry with both of the new Doctors. She is one of the few companions who might have sustained a series of her own -- all the more so because she draws several fascinating secondary characters into her orbit. She embodies a working class girl's transition into adulthood, her growing sense of empowerment and mastery over the universe, her complex feelings of love and friendship for the Doctor, and her efforts to reconstruct a family which was shattered by tragedy. Most of my favorite moments in the series have to do with her character and what she brings to the franchise -- even though I also really liked both of the new doctors.

Entourage -- I discovered this series this summer on DVD, having been skeptical and requiring some convincing from friends whose opinions I trusted. I have generally enjoyed HBO dramas and been left totally cold by their comedies -- including Curb Your Enthusiasm which everyone else seems to love. But this one works for me. I think of it as Sex in the City for men. The friendship between the four (make that, five) central male characters provides the emotional centerpiece of this comedy about people working on the edges of the Hollywood system. It's a toss up as to whether I am most fascinated with the scheming agent, Ari or the puffed up but ultimately pathetic former cult television star, Drama, but I live for the moments either of them are on screen. There's great chemistry between the guys on this series, which offers lots of insights into the nature of male friendship and masculine sexuality. I still haven't caught this summer's new episodes but I am praying for a marathon on HBO before much longer. If I have to wait for the DVD set, I will crawl the walls.

House: My love of House defies all of the rules that normally govern my television viewing. I have always enjoyed shows about cops and lawyers and never ever liked a television show about doctors. I skipped past St. Elsewhere and E.R. for example without the slightest regret. And then I got stuck watching an episode of House while staying at my brother's house and got hooked from the first scene forward. Yes, a lot of it has to do with Hugh Laurie -- though I have never been as infatuated with some his other performances as many people around me. He manages to make me laugh over and over agan and yet still care about what's going on inside his head. He is arguably the most intelligent character on American television (not that there's that much competition) and I tend to prefer to watch shows with intelligent characters. I could care less about the disease of the week plots. For me, it's all about the characters -- and this extends across the ensemble. I care about each of the supporting characters. Each has their own dynamic in relation to House. He is the catalyst who forces them to explore aspects of their personalities that interest me and they in turn touch on different facets of his tortured personality.

Lost: I wrote about Lost here several weeks ago so I will be brief. I admire the complex intertwining of different storylines and elements: the puzzle or mystery elements, the backstory elements, and the story of how these guys form a community and help each other cope with life on the island. What other series on television takes such a global perspective -- taking viewers to stories set in Iraq, Australia, Korea, Ireland, and Africa (all told from a native rather than an outsider's perspective). What other series sustains so many different plotlines involving so many different characters and yet maintains emotional clarity and narrative coherence. I know we all wait breathlessly each week for the producers to screw up and for the series to jump the shark but frankly that's part of the fun. These guys are doing something that's never been done before and they are playing without a net. I frankly don't care if there's a mastery plan or a flair for improvisation driving this as long as it remains as engaging and challenging as it has been so far.

Project Runway: I wanted to put a reality series on the list. Most other years, I would have identified Survivor as perhaps my favorite show. But several things happened this year: Survivor had two pretty off seasons which didn't really engage my interest at a very deep level; there has been a resurgence of dramatic series (and a revitalization of some long standing series) which do grab my attention; and there were some fresh new reality series that showed there was still some life in the genre after all. It was a toss-up for me whether I listed Beauty and the Geek or Project Runway for this slot. I really enjoyed both on different levels and both were in different ways hard sells for me. Beauty and the Geek seemed at first to be exploiting a lot of stereotypes that I dislike, but it turned out to be in fact setting them up so that they could be exploded. There were so many touching moments here as the characters learned things about themselves and each other and found ways to compliment each other's strengths and watch each other's backs. Contestants were honestly thrilled when someone did well, making this the nicest show in reality history, but in this case, niceness didn't mean blandness. But somehow, Project Runway grabbed me even more -- and I am someone who could care less about fashion. My wife, my son, my students will all tell you about my total indifference to the rules of fashion. Yet, I found myself engaged with the assigned tasks and having fun freezing the image and critiquing the clothes along with my wife. By the end, the show had taught me what to look for and I found a fashion competition could be as engaging as, hmm, a spelling bee (Spellbound) or a singing competition (American Idol) or...

Rome: This may be little more than a guilty pleasure. I had mixed feelings about including it in the mix. But, I really did enjoy watching this thing. I loved the historic details about life in ancient Rome. I love the political intrigue and sexual scandel. I loved the over the top dialogue ("Good cock is always appreciated.") There's so little historical fiction on American television and this one brought the qualities one associates with the HBO drama to the form. I know, so does Deadwood, but somehow, I have never gotten over the hump with Deadwood and this one engaged me from the opening credits forward.

Spooks/MI-5: This is the series on my list that is going to be least known to readers of this blog. It's a British series which has received pretty limited airplay in the American market. We heard about it from fan circles, tracked it down on Netflix, and watched it -- in part because it was about MI-5 (and we had really enjoyed a series about a decade ago called The Sandbaggers which dealt with MI-6 and because I really like Greg Rucka's work on the comic book series, Queen and Country, which operates in the same genre tradition). Basically, this is a smart, well-written, intensely paced, complexly drawn British spy series. Most of the episodes deal in one way or another with the war on terror (whether defined in terms of struggles around Islamic fundamentalism or Irish nationalism). As an American, there's real interest in seeing how these issues and debates are impacting popular television in the United Kingdom. We enjoy the trappings of the British bureaucracy. And the show has done a particularly strong job depicting what working as a "spook" does to one's personal life. Like the best British dramas, it has thrown plenty of curves along the road -- not being afraid to kill off major characters or shift key relationships without much warning. This British series barely beats out two American series about law enforcement that I have discovered on DVD and also admire -- The Wire (which deftly criss-crosses between cops and the gangsters, making both seem more morally complex and engaging than anything I've ever seen before) and The Shield (which I am just starting to work my way through and so must withhold judgement but so far has definitely grabbed my attention.)

Veronica Mars: Okay, I agree with many of the critics who say this season was simply too convoluted and added too many subplots about too many secondary characters. But I wonder if we would feel the same way if we could watch the episodes in tighter sequence. It wasn't helped by being stretched so thin with so many pre-emptions and so many reruns sandwiched in the middle. This is a recurring tension right now between series with strong narrative drives which demand real attention and business as usual programming strategies that don't reflect how viewers want to consume the content. But, all these grumblings and excuses aside, I really enjoy this show. I like its sense of humor. I like the emotional dynamics. I like the intelligence of its protagonist. I enjoy the week-in and week-out cases as well as the overarching season long story arcs. It's a fun show to watch.

The West Wing: West Wing is one of my all time favorite series. I am a political junkee and this feeds me precisely what I wanted -- behind the scenes stories (of the kind that I get from Bob Woodward's nonfiction books about the White House and other works in that genre), topical discussions of real world issues (putting this series in the same league with The Daily Show in terms of using entertainment for the purposes of civic education.) But a season or so back, it looked like The West Wing had totally lost steam. But this last season was in my opinion the best ever -- in part because of its willingness to totally reinvent itself. The focus shifts from the White House to the campaign trail. The series dares to imagine American presidential campaigns being run on a different basis -- with intelligent, thoughtful, principled characters in both parties, with a refusal to give over to crude partisanship and a willingness to put the country's needs over personal ambition and party gain. It is the story of what would happen if John McCain was running against Barrack Obama. And along the way, we see the collective damage of 8 years in power upon the personal lives and friendships of the core characters. We watch the forces that split them apart as they enter a period of transition -- as well as what draws holds them together even when they violate our core trust. My big regret is that The West Wing wasn't allowed to complete its transition into a new series. I almost didn't care which of the two candidates won the election. I wanted to see how their presidency differed from the Bartlett administration. Even though I swing Democratic most of the time, I would have been fascinated to see what a Republican West Wing was going to be like. In the end, a series which looked dead two seasons ago ended up dying too soon. My one consolation is that I have seen a sneak preview of the first episode of Aaron Sorkin's Studio 60 on Sunset Strip and it is really really really really good.

Writing these entries, I discovered a few things about my viewing preferences -- the centrality of characters (especially witty and intelligent characters) whether we are judging drama, comedy, or reality television; the imaginative use of genre elements to explore aspects of the world around us; and the interest in serialization over self-contained episodes. I suspect that puts me squarely in the middle of academic taste culture -- even if my fan boy interests in science fiction and superheroes push me to the outer edge. I will be most curious to see how others came out on the poll.

Regular blog reader Dereck Kompare shares his choices over at his own site, Media Musings.

Slamming Media Effects

Some of you thought Ian and I were playing a little rough with each other. Wait till you hear about the kind of rough treatment that media effects researchers have been getting lately. CMS graduate student Sam Ford recently told the story over at the Convergence Culture Consortium blog:

In 1999, a team of professors from Wake Forest University made headlines with a quantitative study that found a correlation between watching professional wrestling and participating in fighting while on dates among teenagers, in a study that also highlighted other potential negative behaviors associated with watching pro wrestling.

While the study was not published at the time, it did receive a substantial amount of attention and was covered by most of the major news outlets. Then, last week, when a written essay based on the study and releasing the full results of the study was published, major media outlets once again reported on it.

WWE Owner Vince McMahon was livid. On last week's episode of Monday Night RAW, WWE announcer Jim Ross lashed out and the study and promoted Mr. McMahon's response to be made available on the WWE Web site for fans, and also on the company's corporate site for investors.

That response claimed, among other things, that the study was "junk science" and that the findings were both dated and unsubstantiated. Of course, in true McMahon fashion, Vince went on to say that the study was produced by "some obscure professor who finally got someone to read his paper and is trying to get his name in the media." WWE certainly didn't hide from the issue, even linking to the study on its Web site to bring further attention to the results from fans and engage in a dialogue, although WWE was definitely issuing their response in "wrestling promo" mode.

McMahon brought on board a ringer -- his own academic -- Dr. Robert Thompson, the head of the Center for the Study of Popular Television at Syracuse University. Thompson -- who works loosely in the cultural studies tradition -- offers his own critique of the Wake Forest research:

What always worries me about these kinds of studies is that they imply a cause; this study claims nothing more than a correlation...So many people immediately see these studies, and they suggest that wrestling is causing these things, and I don't think that is a done deal by any stretch of the imagination....Whether you can make the step that says people who watch wrestling become more violent...is a lot more difficult to prove, and I don't think these studies prove it. I think it would be very, very difficult to put together a study that could actually control enough variables that you could demonstrate that.

Then, a University of Cincinnati sociology graduate student (and self proclaimed wrestling fan) Michael M Wehrman wrote an editorial for the Pro-wrestling Torch, a key publication in the wrestling fan community, claiming that Thompson's credentials for commenting on the matter were "highly questionable" since he comes from a humanistic rather than social science background.

Wehrman concludes that the Wake Forest Study " is fairly shallow, lacks relevant control variables, and seems overreaching in its conclusion," but Wehrman is convinced that he has the background to make such a judgment because he is a social scientist and Thompson doesn't because he's a humanist. In other words, nobody can beat up my kid brother except me.

The War Between Effects and Meanings

So, let's stop right there and explore the issue of expertise for a moment. Where media violence is concerned, we face a fundamental problem. A high percentage of the work done in the media effects tradition -- a specific strand of social science research -- has arrived at the conclusion that consuming media violence has some vaguely defined relationship to real world aggression. There is wide disagreement about how much influence, what kind of influence, etc. A high percentage of the work done in the humanistic tradition has arrived at the exact opposite conclusion -- looking at media violence in terms of the meanings it generates within a cultural context as opposed to the direct effects or influence it exerts over the people who consume it. I discuss these two models of how media operates as "the war between effects and meanings" in an essay included in Fans, Bloggers, and Gamers. I wrote this essay is response to the Limbaugh decision, a ruling in a Federal court which found that computer games were not protected by the First Amendment because they did not convey meanings. (This ruling has since been overturned). Here's part of what I say:

Gamers have expressed bafflement over how Limbaugh can simultaneously claim that video games do not express ideas and that they represent a dangerous influence on American youth. Reformers, in turn, are perplexed that the defenders of games can argue that they have no direct consequences for the people who consume them and yet warrant Constitutional protection. To understand this paradox, we have to recognize a distinction between "effects" and "meanings." Limbaugh and company see games as having social and psychological "effects" (or in some formulations, as constituting "risk factors" that increase the likelihood of violent and antisocial conduct). Their critics argue that gamers produce meanings through game play and related activities. Effects are seen as emerging more or less spontaneously, with little conscious effort, and are not accessible to self examination. Meanings emerge through an active process of interpretation; they reflect our conscious engagement; they can be articulated into words; and they can be critically examined. New meanings take shape around what we already know and what we already think, and thus, each player will come away from a game with a different experience and interpretation. Often, reformers in the "effects" tradition argue that children are particularly susceptible to confusions between fantasy and reality. A focus on meaning, on the other hand, would emphasize the knowledge and competencies possessed by game players starting with their mastery over the aesthetic conventions which distinguish games from real world experience.

Social scientists often act as if their research existed outside of a political, economic, or social context -- as if their findings remained in a world of pure scientific examination. But in fact, the kind of work being discussed here is going to be picked up and deployed by a range of political groups to serve their own causes. In the process, the qualifications and nuances of scientific debate is going to get striped aside. In the end, it doesn't matter whether this is a good or bad study, draws valid or invalid conclusions, deals with causation or correlation. As far as moral reformers are concerned, it is a good study if it can be used as a weapon in the culture wars. The findings are being used as a blunt instrument -- a foreign object, to use a WWE term -- that is being deployed to inflict as much damage as possible on one's opponent. That's how they are going to be played in the news coverage; that's how they will be deployed by reform groups; and that's how they will be mobilized by politicians.

Where I fault at least some of the social scientists working in this space is their refusal to accept responsibility for what happens to their findings when they enter the political process. I believe that a true scientist has an obligation to the truth. In other social policy debates -- such as the debate about porn and violence -- other social scientists -- Edward Donnerstein for example -- did stand up and challenge the distorted use of his findings.

Creating Monsters

In my essay, "Wrestling with Theory, Grappling with Politics" for Nick Sammond's anthology, Steel Chair to the Head, I discuss some of the cultural politics which forms a backdrop for this debate, starting by exploring what it might mean to "demonize" wrestling and other forms of popular culture:

Literary critic Jeffrey Jerome Cohen has constructed a theory of the cultural work which the category of the monster performs. The monster, he suggests, "notoriously appears at times of crisis as a kind of third term that problematizes the clash of extremes." Monsters are "disturbing hybrids ...[with] externally incoherent bodies;" they embody the contradictions and anxieties shaping a society undergoing profound change. Old modes of thinking are breaking down and the construction of monsters represents a last gasp effort to hold them in place.

This is why wrestling is so often figured as monstrous and perverse. The WWE is a horrifying hybrid -- not sports, sports entertainment; not real, not fake, but someplace in between; appealing to the 'white trash' working class and the college educated alike; courting kids and appealing to adolescents on the basis of its rejection of family values; existing outside the cultural mainstream and yet a commercial success; appealing to national pride even as it shoots a bird at most American institutions; masculine as hell and melodramatic as all get out.

Cohen tells us that the monster is born from a category crisis. Thus, the undead may be considered monsters because they are liminal figures existing betwixt and between life and death. We might call wrestling the "unreal" since it stands on the border between fact and fiction. Activist David Grossman uses the "fakeness" of wrestling to justify larger claims about audience susceptibility: ""People tell me, 'you can't tell me that a 6-year-old in Flint, Mich., couldn't tell the difference between fantasy and reality.... And I say, 'Well, you know, how many adults do you know who think professional wrestling is real?" In their video, Wrestling with Manhood (2002), Sutt Jhally and Jackson Katz argue that television wrestling may be the most dangerous kind of media violence because it passes itself off as real yet acknowledges no real world consequences. Referring to a moment in Wrestling With Shadows (2000), when Mick Foley's children become horrified after watching their father in the ring, Jackson Katz asks, "If Mick Foley's Kids can't see behind the illusion, what chance do kids have who have never been taken behind the curtain?"

One can certainly understand why this category confusion would be of concern for many of these writers. Their own literal-mindedness knows no limits. For them, to represent something is to advocate it; to advocate it is to cause it. Wrestling With Manhood, for example, depicts wrestling spectators as moral monsters and at one point, compares them to the folks who watched and did nothing to stop Hitler's rise to power. (You know an argument is kaput when it resorts to the Nazi card!) The filmmakers never acknowledge that these fans, who come to ringside in costume, mimic the catchphrases, waving signs they hope will get on camera, might see themselves as part of the performance, enacting, spoofing, taking pleasure in the imaginary roles and fantasy values on offer. The narrator explains: "Perhaps the most disturbing aspect of this is not only what's going on in the ring but the reaction of the crowd, which is wildly cheering what can only be described as a psychic and physical violation. A stadium full of seemingly normal boys and men cheering and getting off on the control, the humiliation, the degradation." Consider the rhetorical work done here by the word, "seemingly," -- as if the deceptiveness of the WWF extended to its audience, who are "seemingly normal" but actually ghouls and monsters. And this same literal-mindedness surfaces in the phrase, "which can only be described." As far as Jhally and Katz are concerned, the wrestling spectacle can only be understood in one way, even though what has fascinated the writers in this collection is the sheer range of meanings such moments might carry.

We respond to the threat of the monster through moral panic; confronting something we don't understand and can't really classify, our normal human response is to run like hell. We can hear such panic in the words of David Walsh, the head of the Institute for Media and the Family:

In the world of pro wrestling, it is appropriate to swear, to make obscene

gestures, to engage in violent behavior, and to objectify women. This is a

violent, unpredictable place where it is okay, for anyone to give in to any

impulse. It is a place where people are rewarded for being loud, crude and

aggressive. Sexual violence, simulated sex acts, foul language, and over-the-

top crudeness are the norm. And the more often kids watch this world on their

TV screens, the more these attitudes and actions seem normal in the real world.

As Cohen suggests, the monster is a figure of transitions and boundaries. The monster calls "horrid attention to the borders that cannot -- must not -- be crossed." The monster is thinkable (though regretfully so), where-as what lies beyond the monster is truly unthinkable. Film critic David Denby refers to popular entertainment as "a shadow world in which our kids are breathing an awful lot of poison without knowing that there is clean air and sunshine elsewhere." Senator Joseph Lieberman refers to a "values vacuum in which our children learn that anything goes." In other words, to move into the realm of popular culture is to move into a twilight zone, a "shadow world," a "values vacuum," "a violent, unpredictable place" where rules and constraints break down. And the biggest fear of all is that the monster will cross over from that alternative reality into our own.

The monster can have no legitimate point of view. The monster has no culture, generates no meaning, and respects no values. The monster exists simply to negate the moral order. Evoking a metaphor straight out of a David Cronenberg film, Leiberman compares contemporary popular culture to "an antibody which has turned against its own immunity system." Former professional wrestler turned evangelist, Superstar Billy Graham, describes his visceral response to the WWE: "I didn't want this stuff coming into my house, my eyes, or my mind. It made me physically ill to my stomach." The WWE muddies the water, mucks up cultural hierarchies, disturbs moral oppositions, and churns up emotional reactions. No wonder critics call it cultural pollution. This is also why the WWE so often proclaims itself to be 'politically incorrect,' relishing its own "barbarian" status, taking pleasure in committing antisocial acts and pissing off those who would police our culture.

Say nothing else about it, moral panic provokes ideological consensus, carves up the world into simple black and white categories, which seem, on the surface, so commonsensical that they are nigh on impossible to dispute. Politics makes for strange tag teams. Orthodox Jew Joseph Lieberman climbs into the ring, hand in hand, with the Christian right, a move all the more remarkable when you consider how often both sides evoke religious language to justify their efforts to police morality. David Grossman, a military psychologist who claims to have taught marines how to kill, joins hands with the Lion and the Lamb Foundation, a organization of concerned moms who feel that violence should never be considered "child's play." For some, wrestling is dangerous because it is so ruthlessly patriarchal and reactionary; for others, because it embodies moral relativism. For some, it is a symptom of a world without gatekeepers and for others, the dangers of media concentratio"n. For most, it is frightening because it crosses class boundaries. They all agree that what we have got to do is protect our children against its seductions and temptations. After a while, the specific ideological claims get absorbed into a more generalized rhetoric of horror and disgust.

Cultural tastes and interests are a central building block of our identities; we use our consumption of popular culture to map who we are and who we are not. As Pierre Bourdieu has noted, perhaps the most powerful way to defend our tastes is through the negation of other tastes. But, the negation of a cultural form necessarily spills over into (and often intentionally taps) our hostility towards specific cultural, social, and ethnic groups who are closely associated with those forms. The concept of "law and order" surfaced in the 1960s and 1970s as a code word for racism, allowing Republicans to appeal to Southern Whites with a covert reassurance that they would keep disorderly blacks in line. Similarly, at a time when it would be offensive to directly attack racial or sexual minorities, the rhetoric of "cultural pollution" functions as a code word for racism, homophobia, class war, and generational conflict. Listen to former Supreme Court nominee Robert Bork's description of a culture 'slouching towards Gamorrah": "Even those of us who try to avoid the repellent aspects of popular culture know about it through a sort of peripheral vision. The rap blasts out of the car window waiting beside you at the red light; blatant sexuality, often of a perverse nature, assaults the reader in magazine advertisements." Consider how differently this would read if it were Frank Sinatra or country music blasting from the car stereo or if he were protesting the persistence of hetrosexism. If we can keep these forms of culture in line, perhaps we can also control the people who consume them. This connection was made explicit in GOP operative Mike Murphy's post-Columbine comments that "we need goth control, not gun control."

Proponents of the cultural pollution argument are quick to note that they have many minority supporters, and thus cannot be accused of racism. Yet, members of a minority community use culture war rhetoric to police their own borders and separate themselves from unsavory aspects of their own culture.. Eric Michael Dyson, for example, has mapped the tension between jazz and church music in the early twentieth century or jazz and hip hop in the later twentieth century. Expressions of disdain towards godless or trashy music helped to police class and generational boundaries within the African-American community; Jazz and later hip hop were depicted as a threat to the goals of assimilation and upward mobility. So, different groups for different reasons might share a common agenda in terms of policing cultural borders (even if they are pursuing that agenda from different cultural positions or interests).

Writers in the Cultural Studies tradition often characterize the culture war rhetoric as "right wing," "ultraconservative" or "reactionary." As we do so, we are constructing our own monsters, seeking to draw a sharp distinction between those "whackos" over there who want to censor our culture and "nice, thoughtful liberals" like ourselves who would never think of doing that kind of mischief to the Constitution. But, like most attempts to resolve the ambiguities and ambivalence surrounding the monstrous, such representations provide us with a false sense of security. To be sure, conservative Republicans were among the most visible proponents of the culture war rhetoric, as reflected in Daniel Quayle's attempt to displace concerns about the economic causes of poverty onto the breakdown of family values in Murphy Brown, Jerry Farwell's hysterical responses to the thought that one of the Teletubbies might be gay or suggestion that the ACLU might be to blame for September 11, or Pat Buchanon's commitment of the GOP to a "Jihad" against those forces corrupting the American heart and mind. The initial Democratic responses to these arguments were largely negative. Much of the 1992 presidental nominating convention devoted to ridiculing Quayle's rather narrow conception of family values and dismissing the GOP culture war rhetoric as extremist.

However, some "New Democrats" sought to take social and cultural issues "off the table," appealing to moderate Christians by claiming that Democrats would join forces with Republicans to protect American families from "sickening" forms of popular culture. In 1985, for example, Tipper Gore (Wife of then Democratic Senator Albert Gore), Susan Baker (wife of Republican Senator Howard Baker), and some 17 other Congressional spouses helped to form the Parents Music Resource Center; the group received financial support from Mike Love, from the Beach Boys, and Joseph Coors, the owner of Coors beer, and logistical support from Pat Robinson's 700 Club and the Religious Booksellers Convention. Joseph Lieberman rose to political fame largely on the basis of a series of tactical alliances with cultural conservatives. For example, Lieberman serves on the advisory board of L. Brent Bozell III's Parents Television Council; stood alongside Pat Buchanon, Orrin Hatch, and Colin Powell to support an anti-Hollywood petition written by the conservative think tank, Empower America; and has worked closely with David Walsh's Institute for Media and the Family in condemning the video game industry. Leiberman himself described William Bennett as " my brother in arms, because we are engaged together in fighting the culture wars." He explained, "For the better part of two years, we have formed an unofficial, bipartisan partnership to coax, cajole, shout and shame the people who run the electronic media." As former WWF superstar Mick Foley notes, "whenever anyone accuses the PTC of being ultraconservative, he [Bozell] throws Joe Lieberman in their face." Significantly more Democrats joined the culture war following the shootings at Columbine, where one by one liberal Senators stood up at various congressional hearings and denounced the entertainment industry for inspiring teen shooters. It is striking that both candidates on the 2000 Democratic national ticket were men who had been early Democratic backers of this cultural agenda. One lasting legacy of that election is that it will be significantly more difficult for future Democratic candidates to label that perspective as reactionary or extremist.

When media effects research enters into the public debate, it gets taken up as proof that popular culture is a monstrous force in our lives and gets mobilized in support of a moral and political agenda which has little or nothing to do with academic disagreements about methodology or validity. McMahon may have come in slugging but then he at least understood that this was going to be a knife fight or a pissing match, anything but a discussion of scientific findings.

comics and convergence part three

This is the third of a series of out-takes from Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide which centers on convergence within the comics industry. This segment explores the ways that online communities are altering the ways that comics readers and publishers interact. A small portion of this content found its way into the book's conclusion in a significantly altered form, but the rest of it is appearing here for the first time.

Shortly before Ang Lee's feature film version of The Incredible Hulk was released, USA Today ran a front page story about the expanded power of internet fans in shaping the production and promotion of cult movies. Avi Arad, the head of Marvel's film production unit, explained, "I used to hate the Internet. I thought it was just a place where people stole our products. But I see how influential these fans can be when they build a consensus, which is what we seek. I now consider them filmmaking partners." USA Today recounted the emergence of so-called "superfans" - opinion-makers within the fan community who are actively courted by movie producers. Production companies will pay to fly these "superfans" out to the set to talk with stars and directors about a forthcoming release and in some cases, consult with them to insure fidelity to the original source material. Avad acknowledged that he sought casting advice from these fan communities: "These are people who grew up with their heroes in mind. You won't ever get everyone to agree on one actor, but they can tell you if you're going in the right direction." The most influential sites receive more than 5 million visitors per month. In some earlier cases, the studios have gone head to head with these sites, sticking by unpopular decisions, only to sustain box office damage. Now, the article suggested, fans were having more influence than ever before.

Kurt Busiek, the writer of Marvels and Astro City, argues that these online discussion groups represent an extension of traditional forms of publicity and criticism within the comics fan community: "It used to be that the two areas of communications among comic fans were the fan press and word of mouth. Somewhere in the community around every comic book store would be the guys in the know. They'd talk about comics in the store and whatever they thought was cool would filter into the rest of the audience... The internet has taken the mechanisms of fandom, word of mouth, and commercial reactions, intensified it, increased the speed of it, and made it much, much more efficient.... Instead of having to wait for a couple of months to read something like the Comics Reader to cover some comic news, it hits the internet news sites as it happens. The Friday Mark Waid was fired from Fantastic Four, there was a news article on the web and being discussed by Sunday and by Monday morning, the people at Marvel Comics came to work and they had to react to it." When fan reaction emerges this quickly and spreads so far, it commands much greater attention within the industry. Increasingly, internet response is shaping publisher's decision making.

The Sequential Tart has emerged as a central site for women in comics fandom, serving as an advocacy group for female consumers frustrated by their historic neglect or patronizing treatment by the comics industry. Started in 1997, by a group of female fans of Garth Ennis ( Preacher), the group expanded its focus, seeking to provide a female-written alternative to what they saw as the locker-room humor and ogling images found in most of the publications aimed at predominantly male comics fans. Marcia Allas, the current editor of Sequential Tart, explained , "Essentially our goals were to provide a magazine that would have content to appeal across as broad a spectrum of new or established comics readers as possible, regardless of age, gender, sexuality, or individual taste...In the early days we also wanted to change the apparent perception of the female reader of comics. It seemed that there were a lot of misapprehensions about this audience, such as that female comics readers either didn't really exist, or that they only followed one or two titles. Where they were acknowledged to exist, there were some bewildering stereotypes of what they would read, what they would dislike, and so forth. We wanted to show what we already knew - that the female audience for comics, while probably smaller than the male audience, is both diverse and has a collectively large disposable income."

In her study of Sequential Tart, Kimberly M. De Vries argues that the group self-consciously rejects both the negative stereotypes about female comics readers constructed by men in and around the comics industry but also the well-meaning but equally constraining stereotypes constructed by the first generation of feminist critics of comics. The Sequential Tart is, in that sense, a Third Wave feminist cultural intervention, defending the pleasures women take in comics even as it critiques some of the negative representations of women through the medium. De Vries sees this as asserting a politics of consumption as much or more than a politics of production.

The webzine combines interviews with comics creators, retailers, and industry leaders, reviews of current publications, and critical essays about gender and comics. They sought to showcase industry practices which attracted or repelled women, to spotlight the work of smaller presses which often fell through the cracks, to skewer sexist writing or images, and to help readers find books which were better geared to their own tastes and interests. The Sequential Tart are increasingly courted by publishers or individual artists who feel they have content that would be of interest to female readers and have helped to make the mainstream publishers more attentive to this often underserved market. The Sequential Tart, in turn, have provided a model for a range of other comics fans webzines and discussion boards who have been inspired by what a small team of writers had been able to accomplish.

Allas contends that they would never have been able to have this same degree of impact if they had relied on print rather than digital media. She cites, for example, the geographic dispersion of the core group of editors and writers, not only across the United States, but globally. The web provided a platform for them to share what they knew and to form a community which was grassroots without being geographically local. She also notes that they were able to launch the webzine with almost no financial commitment, reflecting the lowered costs of production and distribution in the digital environment. These savings allowed them to operate independently of any corporate interests. It also allowed them to get their ideas out quickly and widely and to publish on a more regular basis. All of that made it possible for The Sequential Tart to become, almost upon launch, a force to be reckoned with in comics fandom and in the comics industry more generally.

Survivor: The Race Wars?

Last week, the producers of Survivor announced that this season, they would feature what is almost certainly the most racially diverse cast in the history of reality television. The contestants would initially be organized into four tribes defined around their race -- African-American, Asian-American, Hispanic, and White-American. The announcement has provoked controversy from the very outset with even CBS Early Show host Harry Smith challenging Survivor M.C. Jeff Probst about the story line on the air. Today's post is intended as a primer of sorts to the debates about race which this announcement have set into motion.

Casting for Diversity

We can understand the producer's decision in the context of several variables surrounding race and reality television. First, shows like Survivor and American Idol are among the few on American television that perform more or less equally well among white and black viewers. (I don't have access to data on other minority groups). For the most part, American television is already segregated with very few shows being shared cultural reference points amongst racially diverse audiences. Reality television also probably already provides greater representation of minority groups than the vast majority of American programs -- which tend to be all white and more rarely, all black casts. But this is a sad commentary on the number of minority performers on network television since the percentage of minorities on Survivor has consistently been much lower than their relative percentage in the American population.

The producers have directly acknowledged at least some of these factors in explaining this new "twist" in the series.

Probst argued that the decision emerged from the production's efforts to respond to long-standing criticisms that minority contestants were under-represented on the program:

"The idea for this actually came from the criticism that Survivor was not ethnically diverse enough, because for whatever reason, we always have a low number of minority applicants apply for the show... So we set out and said, 'Let's turn this criticism into creative for the show.' And I think it fits perfectly with what Survivor does, which is, it is a social experiment. And this is adding another layer to that experiment, which is taking the show to a completely different level."

Probst added that the casting directors for the series actively recruited from local community centers within minority neighborhoods, seeking contestants who represented the diversity within these different racial groupings and trying to significantly broaden the range of people represented on the series: "We really just took off all blinders and said we want to find 20 people to play this game and we're really gonna have to source them out." Fans of the show believe this will add some fresh energy to the series because these participants are so different from those on previous seasons and because they are less familiar with the well-worn strategies and tactics deployed by previous contestants.

Probst has also described the way that cultural differences matter in terms of behavior within the game: "Suddenly you have new slang, new rituals--people doing things like making fire in ways that haven't been done on Survivor. I think we have a season where people will say you can never go back to what you were before."

Producer Mark Burnett has argued that the series is much more apt to challenge rather than reinforce existing racial stereotypes:

"We're smart enough to have gotten rid of every racist person in casting...There's no one race or sexual preference or other group who have an exclusive on being an asshole or being nice...Maybe that taboo (of race) could disappear through this."

Segregation Island?

In some quarters, the news of racially-constituted teams has provoked horror and dread with critics describing the new series as "segregation island." New York City councilman John Liu has launched a campaign to pressure CBS to pull the series from the air: "The idea of having a battle of the races is preposterous. How could anybody be so desperate for ratings?"

Pop Culture scholar Robert Thompson has attacked the series for an "unseemly interest" in race: "It's like a return back to segregated leagues in sports."

Hispanics across America founder Fernando Mateo told Reuters, "Survivor is not reality TV--it's racist TV. The participants will be held to the daunting and unfair challenge of representing an entire race of people. What will it mean for a team--a race--to fail in a battle of wits and strength against another race?"

James Pritchett, professor of anthropology and director of the African Studies Center at Boston University, told The Boston Herald on Thursday. "This program is drumming up every old stereotype, and I don't think it is going to be useful at all. What next, a show pitting Jews and Muslims and Christians against each other?"

Fans are quick to note that Survivor has previously cast teams based on gender differences (twice) and age differences without provoking this same level of controversy -- and The Apprentice has used thinly veiled class differences (Street Smarts vs. Book Smarts).

"I can't decide if the producers are completely naive and clueless or completely soulless," said Lisa Navarrete, vice president of the National Council of La Raza.

Nationally syndicated columnist DeWayne Wickham accuses the producers of trying to "stage a race war" with a program "that will appeal to the unspoken racism that festers just below the surface for many people in today's more tolerant society."

Perhaps making Wickham's point that the program could invite a range of racist responses, conservative talk show host Rush Limbaugh has unleashed a series of racial stereotypes that have themselves provoked intense backlash. Among other things, Limbaugh argued that swimming competitions could be unfair to African-American contestants, that Hispanic contestants have "probably shown the most survival tactics," including " a remarkable ability to cross borders" and that they can "do it without water for a long time, they don't get apprehended, and they will do things other people won't do," that Asian-Americans will be the "brainiacs" in the group and can outsmart the other contestants, and that the white tribe would first dominate and then provide government support to the various minority groups. There's no question that what Limbaugh said publicly is no doubt being debated in living rooms around the country -- with some people mindlessly repeating stereotypes and others reflecting more deeply upon the place of cultural and racial difference in American culture today.

A Teachable Moment?

Defenders of the program don't necessarily think that the conversations the show is likely to produce will be a bad thing for the country, feeling that Americans tend to remain silent rather than openly discussing and working through their feelings about race. In an editorial in the St. Petersburg Times, Eric Deggans aargues, "Burnett is going to make race a front-and-center discussion, after years of shrugging off the implications of his portrayals."

There's no question that the production decision has already provided a context for some thoughtful discussions of the place of race in contemporary American society, with a number of activists and bloggers finding this a "teachable moment."

At her blog, Rachel, a sociology professor who works on race, discusses her own mixed feelings about the "twist" on this season's Survivor:

I don't want to get too deep into the problem of how they are going to assign people into racial categories, but I'm very curious who they are going to assign to the Asian and Latino categories. I supposed they don't even realize the dramatic ethnic variation within those categories. I also wonder how they will assign mixed race contestants (of course, maybe they just eliminated all mixed race people from the casting).

I do see a few upsides to having a cast that has more than a token representation of Blacks, Asians, and Latinos. I think when various racial and ethnic groups are represented in more than token numbers people can get a better sense of the diversity and variety of views within racial groups. The TV pundits were proposing the idea that this is exploiting racial tension. Assuming the tribes are separated in the beginning, this may have the opposite effect. The biggest tensions and rivalries will be within race, at least until the tribes merge.

As Rachel's comments suggest, the most sophisticated comments -- both the most nuanced defenses and the most complicated critiques -- have come from those who are most familiar with the genre conventions and history of reality television. One could expand Rachel's analysis to suggest that the program reflects two important debates about race: first, the idea that America should be seen as a multiracial rather than biracial culture -- the inclusion of Latino/a and Asian-American contestants complicates the usual black/white construction of race, even if, as some critics have noted, it doesn't reflect the full range of ethnic groups in American society. Even a superficial review of the cast suggests an effort to show the range of different ethnicities within these broadly constituted racial categories including a fairly nuanced range of different "white" ethnicities. At the same time, the casting -- where only five out of twenty participants are "white" -- suggests recognition of demographic trends that suggest that the majority of Americans in the not-so-distant future will be "non-white" or as some are putting it, we will become a "majority minority" nation.

As many defenders of the series suggest, the rules of the game will force alliances as the series continues amongst people of different racial groups. The winner of the game will necessarily have to appeal across racial categories and be capable of navigating through cultural differences. The most divisive figures of any racial group will alienate the other players whose votes they have to receive in order to win.

Writing in the Los Angeles Times, Tony Pierce argues that critics simply don't understand the rules of the game:

Each tribe doesn't literally beat up their competitors -- they square off in puzzle-solving games or obstacle courses or tests of endurance, like standing on a beam for the longest amount of time. Unless one desperate dude on a pole drops the N-bomb to distract his opponent, it's difficult to see how race would even come into the game until the second half of the season, when the tribes all merge into one. And even then, the way to win is not by hurling slurs but by getting along with your new tribe and otherwise laying low, as the troublemakers and superstars almost inevitably get voted off.

In Survivor, if there's going to be any hate going on for the first half of the season, it will be self-hate, as the tribes get to learn all the little irritating things about one another rather than focus on the contestants they don't see very often. It's not the person with the different skin color, it's the guy on your team who eats the last scoop of rice, or that other guy who doesn't seem to ever work around the camp, or the alpha leader who runs around shouting orders.

This stage of the show is where you might see the Japanese American dig at the Korean American (helping people understand that not all "Asians" are the same), or the Mexican American diss the Cuban, who'd probably be put out at being called "Latino" anyway....

What tribal Survivor has a real chance of showing us is how much race isn't an issue when it comes to the bare necessities of living on an island for 39 days; how much race is an issue when talk show hosts want to artificially spice up their debates; and that teamwork, communication and trust are the foundation of great teams, not skin color.

Crash?

But again, we don't want to simply celebrate the kinds of inter-racial politics that might emerge in such a context. As Deggans predicts, "race difference plays out as a parable on assimilation -- the people of color who understand white culture and can fit in survive, often by being as bland and undistinguished as possible. Those who don't, wind up fulfilling the worst stereotypes. Their exclusion makes them racially paranoid, their inability to bond with their teammates makes them look lazy and their defensiveness looks like an empty excuse." Of course, with whites in the minority on the series, it just as likely that the winner will form a "rainbow coalition" across different minority groups as it is that they will assimilate into white society.

Guy Aoki, founder of the Media Action Network for Asian Americans, has said he was "withholding judgment" until he watched the show: "It could be interesting. A lot of people put down reality shows. But if they're done well, they can be very interesting sociological experiments. You see people's first impressions of each other based on race. I'm not alarmed by it." Yet, he expressed concern that Survivor "would turn into that Crash movie, in which everyone clashes with each other and hurls racial slurs."

Aoki's analogy to Crash is provocative: after all, while the characters in the film display many different forms of racial divisiveness, many regard the film itself as encouraging an anti-racist attitude. It is not simply a reproduction of racism; it is a reflection upon it. Could reality television operate in the same way, encouraging us to reflect upon the way race operates within American culture? Industry research suggests that the overwhelming majority of reality television viewers engage in conversations about the ethical dimensions of the series -- more, in fact, than discuss strategy or the personality of the contestants. Reality television generates a series of ethical dramas which encourage us to share our own values and perspectives about both decisions made by participants within the series and decisions made by the program producers. While reality television often depicts amoral aspects of human interactions, the discussions around the series are often highly moralistic.

The format of reality television may offer some unique vantage points into how race operates -- taking viewers into a series of racial enclaves that might otherwise be closed to view and at the same time, using confessionals to show the same conflict from multiple perspectives. Despite Burnett's claims to have weeded out the racists, we know racism takes many different forms and there's no question we will see it at work in many different ways in the course of the series. Yet, as with Crash, there is the possibility that we will learn more about how it operates both within and outside our own communities.

As one African-American blogger notes, race has always played a role in shaping her identifications within the series, but , because reality television deals with real people and not fictional characters, she has also identified across racial lines:

If anything, this season of Survivor has the potential to build racial pride. More often than not, I tend to root for Black people when they are contestants in these television reality shows. Even though I get nothing when they win, I want to see Black people compete and win sometimes. I was glad to see Randal Pinkett become the first African American winner of The Apprentice...I rooted for Rueben Studdard and Fantasia Barrino (site) to win American Idol. So, yeah I admit I like to see someone who looks like me compete against people who don't look like me and win. But, what Wickham seems to miss is that Americans don't necessarily root for people of their own race. I was glad to see Omarosa Manigault-Stallworth get booted off The Apprentice. And if the Blacks team on next season's Survivor rub me the wrong way, or seem to be weak, or do something to shame the Black community, I'll have no problem rooting for another team."

We have similarly seen contestants on the series rise above their own prejudices -- most famously in the alliance between the homophobic Rudy and the openly gay Richard on the original Survivor series -- and in the process, model ways that the groups they represent can get along. Critics often assume that reality television brings out the worst elements in human nature: they don't acknowledge that it can also bring out the best in people with surprising moments of personal growth and self sacrifice being emotional highlights of many seasons. Contestants often go on the show to explicitly challenge the audience's stereotyped assumptions about their group with varying degrees of success (especially given that the editors play an enormous role in shaping how we perceive any given character). Indeed, Probst has suggested that they were led to the decision to divide the tribes by race because racial pride had been such a consistent theme in their interviews with these contestants.

All of this is the say that the value of a program like Survivor is in part the fact that it forces us to talk about the ties and divisions within human society, forces us to think about the attitudes and practices by which different groups interact with each other. On one level, Survivor may be the worst possible program to get us to think about race in America. On another, it may be the perfect vehicle. I have profoundly mixed feelings about the decision -- which is one reason why I am trying to lay out all sides of the argument here in order to encourage a deeper level of discourse than the first round of responses. But, I think there is plenty of evidence that even the idea (let alone the reality) of a racially divided Survivor is forcing us to think and talk about race in ways we normally avoid -- and I have to think that's a good thing, even if or maybe precisely because there are going to be some cringe-worthy moments from all camps before this series (and the controversy around it) has run its course. If it rigidifies or simplifies our views on race, that's a bad thing, but the show forces us to dig a bit deeper than that (and reality television at its best certainly can do that much), then it will have a more positive influence. I don't think it is going to live up with Burnett's odd prediction that Survivor will make the taboo of race disappear (whatever that means) nor do I think it is apt to provoke race riots as some have predicted. It may make us think a lot and talk a little.

Let me give the last word to Reality News Online columnist David Bloomberg who argues that Survivor will read race through its own particular lens: "we'll see a diverse group of people trying to stab people in the back, lie to them, and metaphorically cut their throats no matter what race they belong to." And maybe this is a step past the rhetoric of "can't we all just get along" which in the end means can't we just pretend that race will go away if we don't talk about it very much. Cultural critics have talked about the "enlightened racism" that shapes our modern moment -- we pretend to be "past" racism and resent efforts to re-introduce race into our conversations, but the effects of racism are still felt in potent ways in our everyday lives.

Thanks to Henry Jenkins IV for help in developing this article.

Tracking the MySpace Generation...

The Los Angeles Times recently completed a first rate series describing the media consumption practices of the contemporary youth market. "Tracking the MySpace Generation" reflected the results of a large scale survey of 12-24 year olds that shatters many of the myths that have emerged around the so-called digital generation, while at the same time focusing attention on some very important shifts in the ways people relate to media content. Youth and Civic Media

Contrary to the myth (which I debunked here a few months ago), young people are not more apt to vote for the next American Idol than to participate in the next presidental election.

Only 21% of poll respondents ages 18 to 24 said they had voted for an American Idol contestant. But 53% said they had voted for a candidate for public office.

This is consistent with other research that has shown that young people are civically engaged, care about political issues, but often seek out information through different channels than older generations.

Youth and Traditional Media

The researchers also found that young people still consumed a great deal of traditional broadcast content and traditional media sources still exerted a strong influence on their lives:

For example, respondents say that traditional sources such as television advertising and radio airplay still tend to drive their decisions about movies and music more than online networking sites. Those interested in keeping up with current events report a surprising interest in conventional news sources, especially local TV news.

Parental Regulation

The survey also found that parents are increasingly aware of what young people are doing when they are online and that many young people are restricted in what kinds of cyberspaces they can visit:

Nearly 7 in 10 of 12- to 17-year-olds said their parents knew how they spent their time online. Nearly 3 out of 5 12- to 14-year-olds said their parents restricted what they could download. About a third of boys and girls ages 12 to 14 are not allowed to go on social networking sites such as MySpace.com. Only 19% of boys and 13% of girls reported having no parental restrictions on computer use

This finding parallels research in the United Kingdom that I wrote about back when I had a regular column at Technology Review.

Like many other such studies, the report has a tendency to acquate restrictions on media access with good parenting. My own views are that good parenting involves a healthy acknowledgement of legitimate roles that media can play within our lives and an open dialogue with young people about our own tastes and values. Just saying No to Nintendo is a cop-out which doesn't prepare young people for the decisions they will make as cultural participatipants when they get older.

Choices and More Choices

More than anything else, the survey found that young people wanted options -- they wanted the media they wanted when they wanted it and where they wanted it -- and that included via more traditional channels such as theatrical exhibition, print, and broadcast television. They weren't being pushed towards the latest technological devices simply because they were new and wouldn't accept them if they did not facilitate the entertainment experiences they were looking for:

Asked where they'd prefer to watch a new movie if it were simultaneously available at home and in theaters, about a third said they would choose to stay at home, and another third said it depended on the movie. Going to movies at theaters still has appeal, particularly for younger teens, but among respondents ages 21 to 24, 56% said they wanted to see the new movie at home, and only 9% said they would rather travel to a theater.

Nearly half (47%) of respondents ages 12 to 17 say they would watch a movie on a PC, well above the interest in doing the same on a cellphone (11%) or video iPod and similar devices (18%). A similar share of those 21 to 24 said they would watch movies on a computer, although they are much less willing to do the same on a cellphone (6%) or video iPod (7%)....

Interestingly, 12- to 14-year-old girls showed the greatest eagerness about small-screen viewing, with 20% of those surveyed open to watching television shows on cellphones and nearly a quarter interested in checking out programs on iPods.

The LA Times suggests that the entertainment industry was racing ahead of even its most digitally literate consumers in making some materials available for new formats such as video ipods or cell phones. A level headed young consumer explains, "Why would I want to look at a video clip on my cellphone? I'd rather make phone calls on it."

This doesn't suggest a generation that is embracing convergence for convergence's sake. It does suggest a generation that is aware of a range of different media platforms and their affordances and is making reasoned chocies about which provides the most satisfying varient of any given entertainment experience.

Multitasking

The LA Times also found that multitasking is absolutely normative in this generation -- many of them seem to flit between windows, tasks, and relationships with reckless abandon. Any future analysis of young people and media has to recognize that they are always consuming one medium in relation to another and rarely give any given content their undivided attention:

Among respondents who had homework, 53% of children ages 12 to 17 said they did at least one other thing while studying, compared with 25% of adults ages 18 to 24, the poll found.

The youngest poll respondents did the most juggling. Twenty-one percent of the 839 respondents ages 12 to 17 who were polled said they generally kept busy with at least three tasks in addition to their assignments.

Girls ages 15 to 17 were the busiest: 59% said they liked to do at least one thing in addition to homework, and 27% said they liked to do at least three other things.

"I'll focus on my schoolwork, then if an e-mail pops up I'll change focus for a second, answer it, then go back to what I was working on," said Brittany Graham, 16, who also likes to surf the Web and listen to Christian rock while she studies in her family's home in Altamonte Springs, Fla.

Among those in that same age group who did other things while studying, many reported relatively passive diversions. Eighty-four percent said they listened to music as a side activity, 47% watched TV and 22% watched a movie.

But teenage respondents also enjoyed multi-tasking with things that required active participation, the poll found, including talking on the phone (32%), going on the Internet (21%), instant messaging (15%), sending or reading e-mail (13%), text messaging (13%) and playing a video game (6%).

The Napster Generation?

Finally, the survey found that young people's attitudes towards intellectual property were evolving and reflected some understanding of the social contract between media producers and consumers:

Among teens ages 12 to 17 who were polled, 69% said they believed it was legal to copy a CD from a friend who purchased the original. By comparison, only 21% said it was legal to copy a CD if a friend got the music free. Similarly, 58% thought it was legal to copy a friend's purchased DVD or videotape, but only 19% thought copying was legal if the movie wasn't purchased.

People in the recording industry often act as if kids felt no concern about "stealing" their property. Instead, the LA Times study suggests young people are struggling to make sense of a shifting set of technological options and about the intersection between the commercial economy of mass media and the gift economy of participatory culture. They seem to understand that artists should get paid for what they create but there are real questions about when we've paid enough and what rights we buy when we buy recordings of a performance.

Thanks to Zhan Li for calling this series to my attention.

Fan Activism in a Networked Culture: The Case of Stargate SG-1

Last week, on the eve of its 200th episode, the Sci-Fi Channel announced that it would not be renewing Stargate SG-1, ending a run that extended across 10 seasons. The series began on Showtime, where it was canceled after five seasons, and then, as the result of fan activism, got picked up by the Sci-Fi Channel, where it ran another five season and spawned a successful sequel, Stargate: Atlantis. One might imagine that the series was dying a natural death after a run which is far longer than the vast majority of series -- science fiction or otherwise -- in the history of American television or that the network and creative artists are performing a "mercy killing" of a series that might be well past its prime but as far as its most hardcore fans are concerned, the series is "not dead yet." They are seeking to rally the troops one more time and their efforts to do so demonstrate the potentials for audience activism within networked culture.

The Modern Minutemen, er, Minutepersons?

The first thing that strikes you when you look at the fan community's efforts to save SG-1 is the speed with which they were able to respond to the news of the series' potential cancellation. The contemporary fan is a modern day minuteman -- ready to respond at a moment's notice to information that threatens their community, whether it is a cancellation notice or a cease and desist letter. Reader Sara Goetz, a graduate student from California, wrote me the day after the Sci-Fi Network announced its verdict with the following news:

The SG-1 fandom is no stranger to fan campaigns, having lobbied to bring back a beloved actor four years ago (with some question as to whether his return was their responsibility or his and the studio's - I wasn't in the fandom at the time and can't do more than speculate). Additionally, with the recent cast additions of two actors from the late, lamented Farscape, a large number of fans have carried over and feel a strong sense of deja vu. As sci-fi fans are practically trained to do now, we moved into action as soon as the news broke yesterday afternoon. The experience of the past is informing the current action, and while I don't know how much success SG-1 fans will achieve, we'll certainly be heard.

This is a powerful illustration of a point I make in my new book, Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide:

As a fan community disbands, its members may move in many different directions, seeking out new spaces to apply their skills and new openings for their speculations and in the process, those skills spread to new communities and get applied to new tasks

In other words, each new campaign is not only important in its own right but also represents an educational opportunity that develops new skills and knowledge which will then inform all subsequent fan efforts. There's a tendency for both academics and journalists to compartmentalize fandoms rather than seeing fandom as an interconnected network. Fans move between series and as they do so, knowledge gets transmitted from one fan community to another.

At the core of the fan community were seasoned veterans who knew what needed to be done and quickly rolled up their sleeves and took control over the situation. News of the network decision spread across discussion lists, fan websites, blogs, and Live Journal pages and as it did, people began weighing different tactics, collecting relevant information, and assigning tasks. This is a beautiful example of how knowledge communities work to pool resources and tap networks in order to achieve their goals. The striking thing is that there is no one approach being advocated here. The goal is to get the word out to as many different people as possible through as many different means as necessary. In that sense, fan communities are adhocracies not bureaucracy: some people have taken charge of different aspects of the process on a largely volunteer basis but no one is trying to control or orchestrate the movement as a whole.

Learning to Speak the Industry's Language

One can see the consequences of this effort if one visits this site which has emerged as one of several central clearing house for people involved in the campaign. The first thing I notice here is a pretty savvy analysis of the factors which led to the show's cancellation, one that shows a deep understanding of how and why networks make the decisions they do. The analysis factors in issues of demographics, scheduling, and audience behavior. Here's some of what they say:

The complicated US Nielsen ratings system has baffled fan commentators on many genre shows. There may not be one single cause contributing to the ratings slide, but more likely a combination of factors, such as:

First, the SciFi Channel dismantled its three-hour SciFriday block of original programming - the showcase of the network. The airing of Stargate SG-1, Stargate Atlantis and Battlestar Galactica not only helped SciFi compete, but win tough Friday night ratings battles. This year, SciFi chose to hold back Battlestar Galactica, which won't air until October 2006, reducing their three-hour block to a two-hour block of programming.

Any fan with Tivo or a VCR could have told the SciFi execs it's common sense to watch the three-hour block and record the shorter two-hour block for convenient viewing later. Taking that third hour out of the equation removed an impetus to make SciFi the network to watch live on Friday nights.

An additional ratings factor is acknowledged by Mark Stern, SciFi Channel's Executive Vice President of Original Programming. Interviewed by Mary McNamara for the May 8 issue of Multichannel News, Stern "believes some of the show's tech-savvy, toy-loving, time-shifting audience gets missed in ratings compilations. 'Part of it is the DVR,' he explains, citing digital video recording devices. 'Nielsen's sampling is not representative of the larger universe yet. They're sampling 3% and the larger [DVR] universe is something like 10 to 13%."

Second, new timeslots for the shows have put Stargate SG-1 in direct competition with the cable ratings powerhouse Monk, and locked both SG-1 and Atlantis on SciFi in a head-to-head with Monk and strongly performing new show Psych on parent channel USA. Ironically, Bonnie Hammer is President of both the SciFi *and* USA networks!

The ratings of both Stargate SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis have dipped and there is no guarantee that without their strong lead-in, Battlestar Galactica will fare any better when it finally airs in October. With all the advantages of the original three-hour programming block behind it, its ratings were only on par with those of Stargate last season. No one can predict how it will perform solo. SciFi Channel's Farscape was equally beloved of the critics but was unable to sustain a financially viable audience.

Such fan analysis does important work as a form of informal media literacy education -- teaching consumers how network television reaches its decisions and what kinds of arguments will be effective at getting them to reverse course. The fans have monitored trade press discourse and reached out to sources into the production company and have some awareness of the conflicting interests between the network and the production company, offering their own views on the negotiations that impact the economic viability of the series.

At another site, one can see a range of potential tactics identified -- including addresses for key decision makers and suggestions that a strong sign of support for digital downloads may help them demonstrate their clout through the marketplace. A major argument has been that the series fans are so tech savvy that their numbers may not be adequately counted by the Nielsen Ratings which tend to only measure viewers who watch the broadcast as it is aired and not those who watch it via digital recorders or downloads.

Mobilizing the World

The second thing one notices is the international nature of the fan response with the site including templates in many different languages -- from Spanish to Croatian -- that fans in those countries can use as models for writing letters to key decision-makers. The Sci-Fi Network may have made its decisions in part in response to declines in viewership in the United States but because the series is internationally syndicated, the decision will impact fans world wide. Fans in many different countries are working together to respond to the program's cancellation, exerting pressure not only directly on the network and production company but also through the networks in their own country which air the series. The coordination of these efforts across different nations (not to mention languages) suggests the global composition of most online fandoms.

Grassroots creative artists -- who might otherwise turn their attention to the development of fan fiction and fan art -- are deploying their skills towards supporting the save the series campaign. The resource page lists an array of different materials designed to get the word out to the fan base.

Downloading for the Cause

More generally, you can see the fans are deploying such social networking sites and web 2.0 applications as MySpace and Flickr as tools for identifying potential supporters and pulling them into the cause. They also recommend using Bittorrent and other peer-to-peer technologies to identify fans that are downloading the series and solicit them for the cause. They write:

many fans are savvy when it comes to the P2P file sharing power of bittorrent. Whatever your personal stance on the legalities of downloading episodes via torrent, there's no denying their popularity.

This is particularly true for overseas fans who aren't hurting the ratings of first-run episodes of the show in the US, and who might not get to see the current season for a year or two.

We could turn the power of peer-to-peer file sharing to information sharing. Check out the busy torrent sites such as Mininova, IsoHunt [which links many other torrent sites from its database],TorrentSpy, TV Torrents, #eztv @ EFNET.

Wherever you see a Stargate-related download, jump in and make a comment about the cancellation of the show and the paramount importance of:

(1) watching episodes LIVE

(2) spreading word of the cancellation as widely as possible on and offline

(3) pointing people to this website savestargatesg1.com for more information.

(4) pointing to the $1.99 legal downloads for US fans from iTunes!

Often, there are thousands of downloaders for Stargate episodes and people will check comments in case there's anything nasty in the file they're saving.

This approach shows recognition of the potential of such sites for social networking as well as the ways that illegal downloads may render invisible the level of interest in the series.

All told, both the tactics and the analysis behind it shows an extremely sophisticated understanding of the current media landscape and the various points by which grassroots communities may leverage their power to exert pressure on corporate stakeholders in the series. Activists of all ilk can learn a lot by dissecting how these guys are approaching their effort to save their favorite series. As a long time fan, I can't help but contrast this with the now relatively primitive snail-mail efforts that kept Star Trek alive in the 1960s: new media has given fans a lot more resources to mobilize in a roughly similar situation.

I have limited personal stakes in this particular series. Ironically, the Sci-Fi channel is not available in the MIT dorm where I live so I have only seen a few episodes. Be that as it may, I am really going to be interested to see how this campaign takes shape and what, if any impact, it may have.