Zahir Magazine Autumn 2013

ZAHIR

9.1 Autumn 2013

Magazine

INTERVENTION Edition

POLITICS The Changing Face of Military Intervention POLITICS Intervention.... WTFoucault?

FILM Two Word Reviews of films shown at the York Student Cinema ART Drawing by Dizzysufi; Organs of Intervention

Zahir is an Islamic term meaning that which is apparent, that which is manifest, that which is visible. Its opposite is ‘Batin;’ the hidden and the invisible. Medieval Muslim scholars of the Zahiri school-of-thought believe that everything has a Zahir and a Batin, thus there are visible realities and invisible realities.

In this issue we explore INTERVENTION. Reduced to its simplest components, intervene means to come (venire) between (inter-), so as to prevent or alter a result or course of events. For my last edition as Editor the theme was chosen in light of the Syrian Crisis, and the visual theme is cellular neurons.

Firstly, there are two sides in the process of Intervention: the Intervener and the Intervened. Both feel anxiety, dread, and fear. The Intervener has been burdened with the duty to protect, a self imposed responsibility which is rooted in compassion but stems out as anxiety; the Intervener must never make a mistake. They surrender themselves and make sacrafices to save the damned but in doing so they also become damned and rooted in evil.

The Intervened stumble through the present without foresight, like water running off a cliff the stream anticipates its dispersal into air, thus ensues anxiety. As the Interveners become embroiled with the Intervened, the distinction between the two blurs. A conflict crying for Intervention is like an expanding abyss. In Syria we saw the world being sucked into this abyss, and Intervention itself was questioned.

We are always looking for you - new writers and designers to show us why this world is so interesting and beautiful.

To get involved ‘like’ us on Facebook, follow us on Twitter, or send an email to zahir@yusu.org Enjoy!

IN TER VEN TION Our Zahirite Editorial Team Editor-in-Chief / Managing Editor / Arts Editor / Graphic Design Beau Rahim Political Editor Rosie Hvid Film Editor Harry Robertson Features Editor Tom Lubek Literature Editor Stephanie Milsom Music Editor Roz Hayes

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POLITICS

FILM

4 - 5. Seriously, WTFoucault!?

Nicolas Theunis looks at how we have come to understand the notion of Intervention.

6 - 7. Intervention is constantly under a facelift, Hussein Kesvani on the role of Intervention in global politics.

8. Rosie Hvid believes we are blighted by our own apathy towards politics, ‘nothing is good,’ what is the effect? What should we do?

9. Harry Robertson throughily enjoyed Guillermo del Toro’s film Pacific Rim...Why? 10 - 11. Two word review system on all films showcased at the Student Cinema.

12. James Damm unpicks the ubiquity of Hollywood’s heroic interventionist cinema.

13. Anime is more than pretty eye drawings, Dan Birkett exposes its brutality, harshness and depth.

FEATURE LITERATURE 20. Tom Lubek recalls his an event that exposed the importance of holding the material book.

21 - 22. How can you play war? Spec Ops puts you first hand into sites of conflict.

23. Rachael Potter problematises American Apparel’s latest menstruating-vagina-Tshirt design.

24. Loneliness and the responsibilty to intervene in the lives of those you love, questions raised by Stephanie Milsom.

25. There are authors and the public, but between exists the editor, butcherer of texts. Kirstin Sonne asks for a different relationship.

26. In a collaborative move, Jane Austen is to be rebooted, Stephanie Milsom asks if this is a good move.

27. Poem by Suli Breaks, I Will Not Let An Exam Result Decide My Fate.

28. Poem by Will Lawrence; Concrete Serpents. And prose by WindedMessenger on information and suffering.

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ART 14 - 15. Helen Shaw speaks to Hock E Aye VI Edgar Heap Of Birds who is exhibiting at the National Portrait Gallery.

16 - 17. Organs of Intervention, a drawing by DizzySufi.

18 - 19. A preview of a student led art exhibition at Bison Coffee House.

MUSIC 29. Roz Hayes remembers Lou Reed, rockstar and Tai Chi Practitioner.

30 - 31. Central African Pygmy music; polyphonic, contrapuntal, and polyrhythmic.

WTFoucault?

Foucault. Intervention. How does the spread of political notions change our understanding of intervention? And are we, in our everday lives subject to these interventions?

By Nicolas Theunis

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he notions of‘political’ have been extended in discussions of everyday life, the‘ political’ is no longer restricted to interpretations of governmental authority. It now includes the analysis of reality, or what could be considered as multiple realities that are both developed and contested. Thus, in the perspective of analyzing the diverse manifestations of Intervention, this article shall discuss the extent to which the spreading of political notions has led to a much wider understanding of intervention in every levels of our own lives. In the first section, I highlight the ubiquity of domination in modern societies, pled by both Weber and Foucault. In the second section, I outline the unique and unusual way in which Foucault considered power. In the third section I present Foucauldian account of power’s concrete implications in the profound nature of governments. Finally, I briefly outline Foucault’s metaphor of a panoptic society.

The ubiquity of domination The two sociologists, Weber and Foucault have used a historical approach to argue that material, philosophical and technical changes have led to new form of structured, hierarchical and autonomous management of people. They both agree on the ubiquity of domination, it has even been the leitmotif running through the two doctrines.

Weber argues that ‘without exception every sphere of social action is profoundly influenced by structures of dominancy’ (Weber,1978). He continues‘ where harmony and order apparently prevail, the threatened use of force is never altogether absent’ (ibid). As some sort of a reversal of Charles’s V strategy of ruling summarized it,‘ in the velvet globe there is always an iron fist’.

While both authors stressed the gradual and historical imbeddied nature of this development, Weber clearly contextualizes bureaucracy within a history of Western rationalism, expressed through 4

religion, army, state apparatus and economy. Foucault may not have mentioned specially‘ rationalism’ but he does describe the same sort of world and a similar ideology of control.

Foucault's unique consideration of power Foucault approaches political problems in a unique way, using this methodology of ‘problematization’, which one is exposed in his book Archeology of Knowledge (1969) as divided in two phases: an early‘ archeological’ phase and a later‘ geological’ phase – i.e. these analyses assume the burden of providing critical histories of the past and present respectively. This methodology has led Foucault to approach political problems in a unique way: how society has disciplined prisoners in ‘Discipline and Punishment’(1975), what has been considered as mental illness in ‘History of Madness’(1961), or what type of sexual behaviour has been commonly accepted in ‘History of Sexuality’(1976-84).

While Weber’s analysis of power concentrates on the power of the State (i.e. through‘ legal-rational authority’, the ‘bureaucracy’ in modern world), Foucault argues that power is not derived from the State or a central authority. Foucault advocated for an inversion of the direction in which power was analysed.

His analyses are more focused on particular institutional forces, such that power was understood as supports on which political power rested rather than as effects of State or class domination (i.e. against Marx’s conception of power). Foucault insisted that power was a consequence of relations between physical, institutional and ideational forces, which he sought to describe‘ outside the model of Leviathan (…) and outside the institution of the State’ (Foucault, 1975–1976).

Foucault explained his conception of politics by inverting the famous Clausewitz aphorism : ‘politics might be the continuation of war by other means’ (Clausewitz, 1832).

Foucault argues that power does not derived from the State but is instead inherent in all people and human relations, and is wielded over all including those who possess it. In order to portray the complexity of power in society he uses the imagery of a spider web without a spider (Foucault, 1980). This view ironically but revealingly, has been heavily criticized by the same over determined discourse of sovereignty that he attempted to critique, but Foucault made a distinction in a modern form of power.

The birth of Biopolitics The modern form of power for Foucault is‘ biopower’ (Foucault, 1978-79), this rests with governments and is a form of oppressive and intrusive power.

While older states took as their possession the territory of their state and could only influence and mildly discipline the inhabitants, modern states take their population as their possession and control every aspect of lives. Such as Weber, Foucault saw the controlling aspect of modern states and identified its practices such as using statistics and demographics to make citizens see themselves in terms of everybody else – this describes for Foucault ‘a new domain of knowledge’.

States also work to control the character of their populations, optimizing rates

of production, mortality, efficiency, etc.

This represents for Foucault a transition in the nature of the State: from the disciplinary State to the Society of Control, to the government of conduct. In other words, a transition from the juridical power‘ to take life or let live’ to the one to‘ foster life or disallow it to the point of death’. This represents also a shift from deductive power to productive power.

This transition is cemented by‘ governmentality’ – a term for governmental rationality, which represents the expansion of government powers and bureaucracy. Foucault drew upon this early modern sense of ‘government’ to refer to all the ways in which one could act upon possibilities of action of others. He used the concept to define the filed of power relations properly called, so that to exercise power is to govern, where to govern means ‘to structure the possible field of actions of others’ (Foucault, 1980-81).

All of this change, in the nature of governments represents for Foucault an increase in ‘normalizing states’. The institutions of the State (e.g. police force and educational system), alongside the legal discourse, create attitudes that adhere to the state version of normality.

The Panoptic Society Nowhere governmentality’s impact is more evident, Foucault argues, than in the prison system. Foucault analyses a form of institutional prison designed

by Jeremy Bentham called Panopticon, whereby cells are arranged in a circular pattern around a single guard tower so that each is visible. The idea of this building is that because each prisoner can be seen easily by the guard, they are less likely to behave badly and so adhere to normal behaviour.

What is unique however is that the guard, never need using power – the prisoners exercice it over themselves by the fact that they are visible.

Foucault took this design as a metaphor – the panoptic society is one in which attitudes are normalized by the State, as power is exercised by individuals over themselves in order to make them conform with the State idea of acceptable behaviour.

Conclusion To summarize, while the two sociolo5

gists Weber and Foucault agree on the ubiquity of power and both recognize the inevitable presence of an oppressive contextualization of power within our society, Weber clearly states that power lies within the hands of Bureaucracy.

However Foucault goes further, and envisage power in a very different and unusual way. According to the french sociologist, power relationships can neither be understood as emanating of a sovereign instance nor as resulting of the perpetuation of class domination, but at the contrary they can only be understood through the prism of all human interactions as they became intrinsically penetrated by power.

Foucault insisted that power was a consequence of relations between physical, institutional and ideational forces, rather than repressive, intimately linked to production of knowledge. Admittedly, these instruments are acting on free individuals, but do direct them however.

His focus on power and knowledge has definitely contributed to a broader understanding of what counts as political, and as a consequence leads us to reconsider our lives and behaviours are subjected to interventions. Those interventions are even more difficult to apprehend given that they do not emanate form a single identifiable author. Although the metaphorical panoptic society helps unveiling the doubt, and perhaps identifying the administrator of power relationships as the one subjected to them through his full visibility and responsiveness. Finally, one can easily understand the equivocal title of a set of lectures he provided at the ‘Collège de France’ between 1975 and 1976: Society Must Be Defended.

THE CHANGING FACE OF MILITARY INTERVENTION Hussein Kesvani, former Zahir political editor and currently working at Aljazeera, considers our individual roles as citizens in global politics, and what the uncertain future of intervention will look like. All views are his own and do not reflect Aljazeera’s editorial policy.

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s we look again to what we now reluctantly call the ‘Syrian Civil War’ our doubts surrounding the option of military intervention may be shaky. Now it’s important to note the facts haven’t changed- intervention is a risky option, one which even empirical data shows would cause more problems than it solved. Yet, the moral case remains, and in some ways, remains stronger than ever. Indeed, while the rhetoric of former Prime Minister Tony Blair may have physically left the chamber, its phantom presence still echoes from its wall.

See, while the commentariat, and I imagine most of the public, may have told themselves that the ‘age of Iraq and Afghanistan’ are relics of the past, the truth points to the contrary.

The discourse surrounding intervention remains potent, but caught in an obscure ethical diellema: the thought of tagging along with one fundamentalist group - who have proudly documented their own acts of terror and depravity - against another is something that does little to soothe the moral conscience of otherwise insecure, self-aggrandizing states.

Turning back on ‘moral responsibility’- the wax lyrical that underlined the Blair doctrine, illustrates more than simply ‘democracy in action’. It conveys a change in the international status quo- and a further repudiation of Fukuyama’s ‘End of History’, the seminal thesis that predicted that the fall of the Soviet Empire would bring about a universal consensus for collective action and basic human liberties. Instead we see a sea change in expectation- where a more risk averse public no longer think through such grand conjectures.

This has wider implications than just Syria, for it indicates a sea change in international relations that go so far to challenge the very conventions of our existing world order. In part, that is due to acknowledging the nature of modern conflict- far from tales of good vs evil, decisions to intervene also take into account what sacrifices one is willing to make- whether it be to arm vengeful rebel militias, or equally as distasteful dictators.

However, there’s also been a much more complex change, relating to how we view ourselves in an ever-globalising world, particularly one where new economic empires to the East 6

hold greater stakes when it comes to global decisions. Indeed, Russia’s continual veto during the early stages of the Syrian civil conflict comes as an exercise in exerting power through institutions like the United Nations. Meanwhile, China’s everexpanding economic plans, which involve crucial oil and gas pipelines, have also prompted it to flex its muscle. Watching the two emerging powers come to terms with its role as global players, it is evident that a new form of ‘intervention’ is being carved- one in which notions of ‘moral responsibility’ are exchanged for long-term strategies, where new players fight instead for their desired means to an end.

currently operating in the civil war. Unlike the covert wars that marked the end of the twentieth century, none of these groups have a coherent ideology that unites them- rather, as many political anlaysts working in the region have said, they often play the role of mercenaries, fulfilling the wider objectives of their paymaster states- all of whom see the unstable Middle East as a ground to claim as their own.

The matter of intervention will always be complex, but it should be acknowledged that its dimensions are changing more rapidly than any type of global phenomena of our time.

And while the West looks set not to intervene further against Bashar-al-Assad, this does not mean that the era of intervention is over- in fact, far from it. The concept of military intervention is healthy, and remains a popular tactic of global politics. The only difference is that new players- many of whom have goals more inconspicuous than a simple, but vague understanding of ‘moral duty’, now have the power, and indeed the capabilities, to truly call the shots.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that the future of international decision making will be reduced to functionality, but the means of which ideological goals may be actualized will be far more discreet. Take Iran as a case in point; While continuous spokesman from the government and the military have stated on television that the nation has ‘no presence in Syria’, one only has to follow the money to realise just how sizeable the number of rebel groups- funded and armed by both Iran and Lebanon, are

Opposite: Syria and the world powers.

Above: Syrian media.

Ali Ferzat is a political cartoonist from Syria, he began publishing at the age of 12 and has since become one of the most influential political artists of the century. In 2011 masked gunmen broke his hands warning him not to satirise Syria’s leaders, he continues to draw to this day.

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Apathy Rosie Hvid believes we are blighted by our own apathy towards politics, ‘nothing is good,’ what is the effect?

What should we do?

raditionally Britain it’s known somewhat for its distinct personality. We have the ability to be polite and kind, whilst being inherently pessimistic about anything and everything. I’m quite certain that I am right in declaring us a nation of moaners. A nation who tut in long queues, and moan about the weather on a daily basis.

We watch the news and hate the world, we criticise and verbally attack the leaders of the corrupt nations, we watch the bombings and the violence, the murder and the injustice. We say we should do something to help, but it is only a brave minority who actually follow through, because of course things are much easier said than done. And then, when our free and fair elections come about, a pathetic percentage of us actually bother vote for a style of government we advocate every nation should have…

is instead the country that is crying out for intervention? Think back to the riots of 2011, think back to how shocked and aghast you were about the horrific crimes we witnessed all over our screens. Now imagine that those riots weren’t just a one-off and that the aggression was present on our streets and outside our homes, every day of every year. Imagine that instead of the government trying to end the violence desperately, they unleash bombs and snipers. Imagine if the government just didn’t intervene at all. What would have happened to our society? It would have crumbled into a Darwinian hell hole instead. And there’d be nothing left of ‘Great’ Britain. Because we do nothing but talk and moan.

we should be voting, we should be active

I’m not under the impression that we have the perfect system. I don’t believe for one second that anyone does, but we don’t have a terrible one either. We’re not only protected as individuals by Human Rights legislation, but we’re also backed up by our membership of the European Union and by our old buddy-America. If anything were to truly go wrong in our country, I doubt we’d be waiting long for aid or support. If we compare what we have, to Syria, or Libya or Kenya for example, where so much is wrong, we should be proud, we should more importantly be thankful for our safety.

The atmosphere of apathy towards politics in Britain is growing, and I’m sure it will continue to grow.

But what happens when the election turnout drops to below 50%, what does that make our governments… democratic? Or illegitimate? And then we become no different to the foreign governments which we criticise and preach to so effortlessly. If we continue down this apathetic road, the democracy that too many people have died in the fight for goes to waste. It’s just so easy for us to criticise David Cameron and Ed Miliband for how terrible and posh they are but we can’t seem to do anything else but talk about it, too few people are politically active. But are we aware of just how good we actually have it? I think not.

We should be voting, we should be active. What good is complaining when you do it privately or under your tongue? I think the way forward for us is improving on what we have, not ripping it apart. Maybe a more positive Britain, is a more productive one.

Can you imagine what it would be like to not be the country that intervenes in the name of justice and 8

Spectacle Harry Robertson dissects Guillermo del Toro’s latest film, Pacific Rim. Should you really let yourself watch a film like this?

As I walked out of the Student Cinema’s recent showing of Pacific Rim, ears ringing, eyes watering and brain in full-on hyperactive fanboy mode, it occurred to me that the film itself was not particularly deep. The plot boils down to two key points: a) Giant aliens have arrived on earth b) Humans have built giant robots to fight them The rest of the film involves the two aforementioned giant things punching each other.

The characters are relatively onedimensional, the acting was nothing particularly exceptional, and the filming was good, but nothing exactly groundbreaking. The film throws nothing objectionable at the viewer, but also fails to give us anything noteworthy, aside from the action.

Ah yes, “action.” What a word. When I’m recommended a film on the basis of “It has good action” I instantly approach it with caution. “Good action” is not, generally, an acceptable apology for a film with no other redeeming factors.

Genuinely good action films also require, at the very least, acceptable characterisation – without this, we have no reason to become invested in the inevitable action scenes. This has been the longstanding problem with the Transformers series – the characters we are supposed to care about are either emotionless lumps of metal (the titular transformers) badly written, clichéd teenagers (Shia LaBeouf) or eye candy (every woman in the series.) Consequently, however big the explosions are, however massive the set pieces become, it is still impossible to be invested in the action sequences, because nobody gives a damn what happens to the characters.

Unfortunately, as much as I try to style myself as the undergrad film critic by eschewing such shallow entertainment as Transformers, Pirates of the Caribbean, and The Matrix sequels, all

of which cruise on briefly witty dialogue, simplistic characters and long action scenes to fill the gap where plot should have been, I cannot escape a simple fact: I really liked Pacific Rim. Pacific Rim’s characters are not good.

The plot is not interesting. The filming is not exceptional, and the special effects are adequate...

So why did I end up liking it so much?

Well, it’s pretty simple: the director cheated.

Pacific Rim’s director, Guillermo del Toro, has a bizarre list of films to his name. His directorial credits stretch from the hollywood Hellboy series to the insanely dark fairy tale Pan’s Labyrinth.

Given his range of experience, it can be safely assumed that he understood the limitations of Pacific Rim – in fact, in one interview, he stated “We cannot pretend that this [Pacific Rim] is Ibsen with monsters and giant robots. I cannot pretend I’m doing a profound reflection on mankind.” This self aware attitude pervades the entire film – at certain points it even edges towards self-parody: I would suggest that the moment at which the Japanese lead pulls out a sword, yells “For my family!” and chops a giant monster in half was probably written with tongue firmly placed in-cheek.

This is why I say that Del Toro “cheated.” By giving the film a tonguein-cheek attitude, he allows people to enjoy the mindless action and special effects whilst also appreciating its selfaware semi-satirical nature. If someone accuses you of not having good taste in films because you watched Pacific Rim, you can just look at them in disbelief and ask “Did you not find its satirical deconstruction of action movie tropes interesting?”

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Del Toro also had a trick up his sleeve for the characters. Making likeable characters is not easy, but it is necessary to give those action sequences an emotional impact. Fortunately, there is a way around all that boring character-building: stereotypes. The American robot was modelled on John Wayne, and its pilots are a pair of all-American young men.

The Russian robot was modelled on the T-51 tank, and its pilots are a blonde man and woman built like the aforementioned tank. The Chinese robot is red and performs kung-fu. The two scientists are a British man who says “by Jove” and a standard American geek, the Australians are brash and aggressive but good-hearted underneath it all... and so on. Practically every character falls into a popular stereotype.

People like stereotypes. It’s easy for an audience to get behind “those Chinese kung-fu guys” or “those endearingly brash Aussies” and if the portrayal is affectionate enough, we will find ourselves caring about them when they fall into danger. This is the easy way of making likeable characters – drum up a bunch of stereotypes, give them a few humorous quips and off you go. The only downside is that it can end up looking rather racist – Pacific Rim neatly side-steps this issue by stereotyping everything, thus treating everyone pretty much equally.

If this criticism sounds harsh, then bear in mind the fact that I think this is a fantastic film, made by an incredibly talented and versatile director. If you still don’t want to watch the film, then consider this: There is a scene in this film where a giant robot repeatedly hits a dragon on the head with a cargo ship.

Film Review We review this York Student Cinema’s offerings this term... in the shortest possible manner How to use this review system: The first two words represent the general tone of the film, the third word represents the overall quality

Star Trek Into Darkness Space Action. Disappointing.

Hangover THE

Basic humour. Unnecessary.

The Great Gatsby Glamorous drama. Meh.

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this is the end Cheap Laughs. Fatuous.

world

Man

of

Steel

Violent Superman. Boring.

war

Humourless Zombies. Competent.

The Place Beyond the Pines Ryan Gosling. Dies.

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Pacific Rim Giant Robots. Great.

Blue Jasmine

Bittersweet introspection. Enthralling.

The World’s End Amusing Apocalypse. OK.

Shaun of the Dead

Funny Zombies. Fantastic.

The Bling Ring Angsty teens. Good.

Kick Ass 2

The Way Way Back

Violent comedy. Acceptable.

Amusing Awkwardness. Great.

About Time

Elysium

Tearjerking comedy. Decent.

Soulless action. Disappointing.

We’re the Millers Lighthearted Comedy. Acceptable.

Monsters University Heartwarming rehash. Acceptable.

Monsters Inc Heartwarming originality. Good.

The

Wolverine

Entertaining violence. Standard.

the lone ranger

Depp Antics. Acceptable.

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Cinema and

Heroic

and actively change aspects of it. However, the intervention is self-inflicted, so perhaps this leads us to a second conclusion: Heroes intervene selflessly in others’ lives, whilst anti-heroes selfishly intervene on their own.

My investigation then led me to the IMDB top 250, and scrolling through the list provided me with a vast number of films based around a hero’s choice to intervene. With excellent films from the Godfather to the Matrix up there it would be foolish to claim the character theme of intervention to be an irrelevant one or a cliché, but it was Schindler’s List that gave me the conclusion to my mini-study. It is a prime example of a film about an intervening character, but more importantly, it is based on a true story. Oskar Schindler has been immortalized because he’s the perfect example of an interventionist hero, and is exactly what people like to see in their views of the world.

When confronted with a situation as terrifyingly brutal as the holocaust, we find comfort in the idea that should such an event re-occur, there would be someone to step in, to intervene, and to save us.

The nature of a hero is so tied up in his or her act of intervention that it is almost possible to consider the words “hero” and “intervener” synonyms. Hollywood creates its heroes in intervening roles because that is what society requires of them.

To consider such an innate aspect of a hero “a cliché” is impossible – you can’t have heroes without intervention, and you can’t have intervention without heroes.

Intervention James Damm examines the nature of the hero in Hollywood cinema and their interventionist roles.

Intervention has always played a major role in film, and in the journeys of lead characters. From Bruce Wayne deciding to intervene in the crime he sees plaguing Gotham, to Bruce Willis in the Die Hard films intervening to save the day and stop the bad guys, a character not backing down and getting involved is a staple trait of Hollywood cinema. The trope of the “intervening hero” has become so widespread that one might ask the question “has the trait of “intervening” become such a staple of the hero that it can be considered a cliché?”

“Heroes intervene selflessly in others’ lives, whilst antiheroes selfishly intervene on their own.”

In beginning my mini-study of interventionist heroes, I attempted first to define the role of “hero.” Is the lead character of a film the hero, or simply a protagonist? A character such as Charles Foster Kane in Citizen Kane is not exactly a hero, but rather a character who’s life we watch unfold – he’s not a hero, just a protagonist. While intervention features in Citizen Kane, it is hardly a central theme, and there is no obvious act of intervention around which the story revolves. The more I considered the relationship between hero and simple protagonist, the more it became obvious that an act of intervention was necessary for a character to become a hero.

If a hero requires intervention, and a protagonist does not, then what about an anti-hero? To approach this question I considered one of the most highly-praised television shows of the past years: Breaking Bad. All spoilers aside, the story revolves around the character of Walter White evolving from a semitragic father/hero figure into a considerably darker and more anti-hero like character. One could consider the entire series being based around the concept of intervention: intervention in one’s own life. Walter is forced to reconsider his own life, 12

Anime Anime is not always for children or weirdos, Dan Birkett says it can be brutal, harsh and profound, but does this lead the way for more thematic possibilities?

The word generally conjures up images of either children or isolated loners watching creepy pornography. The reality, however, is that through this biased view, vast swathes of the public are denying themselves the chance to access a type of film-making utterly impossible in the west.

Death Note is a series about a boy who receives a notebook with the power to effortlessly kill anyone who’s name is written within it. If we exclude Shinigami (Japanese Gods of Death) and supernatural occurrences, Death Note’s themes would not look particularly out of place in a philosophy handbook.

The portrayal of Light (the protagonist) is of a young man struggling to create his own utopia. Of course, given his power over life and death, he becomes “god” of this intended utopia, raising hordes of questions about the nature of the human desire for justice. Is it truly wrong to kill those who commit crimes?

Those which murder others, should they be killed? In doing this, are you as guilty as the killer? The limits of all these questions are pushed to the utmost extreme with Death Note.

Akira (1988) is famous for its hard hitting delivery which challenged the content and topics anime could openly engage in. Akira’s frequent, brutal scenes do not shy away from the difficult and traumatic elements of human life. In fact, they centre around them. Issues such as rape, child abuse and violence are all thrown directly at the viewer. The content is of such gratuity that it would

have been barely possible to create a live-action film 1988 with the same plot.

However, by using animated characters rather than live-action actors, the film gets away with tackling brutally difficult issues without alienating either the general public or the censorship boards.

The popular anime series, Fullmetal Alchemist, addresses the topic of life and death at its most basic level. While at first the anime creates a superficial and light-hearted appearance, it soon delves into much darker and more mature subjects – the very nature of death becoming a key theme. Using the fantastic concept of “alchemy” the creators are able to explore some of the most central questions of human existence. In a live-action film, on the other hand, the fantasy-like elements fused with deep moral questions could have scared off both the production 13

companies and general audiences.

In this way, anime becomes almost limitless in its thematic scope. By dispensing with the western cult of the “star,” characters become easier to associate with, and by leaving behind the difficulties of live-action filming, suddenly special effect budgets, costs of filming on location and set design expenses become a complete non-issue. Western audiences rarely experience the truly surreal, or the truly bizarre, because few directors and studios are willing to put their money on the line for something that could be so easily rejected by audiences. Anime is bound by none of these restrictions.

HOW DO WE SEE EACH OTHER? HELEN SHAW IN DIALOGUE WITH CONTEMPORARY NATIVE AMERICAN ARTIST HOCK E AYE VI EDGAR HEAP OF BIRDS AT THE NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY Earlier this year, the National Portrait Gallery hosted an interdisciplinary event by the artist Hock E Aye Vi Edgar Heap of Birds titled How Do We See Each Other? Described by curator Dr. Stephanie Pratt as “inspired” by the concurrent exhibition George Catlin: American Indian Portraits, Edgar’s event was a series of interdisciplinary activities aimed at representing a living, thriving, and nuanced Native American identity and community; a contemporary portrait of Native people.

This included video and project installations, lectures and informal discussions and tours of the Gallery’s spaces and portraits, a DJ set (accompanied by the all-important refreshments bar), and an art workshop, where each

member of the audience could take home their very own artwork inspired by Edgar’s three-word drawings.

or having control of it ourselves as Native people. A big part of it is families doing things together, it’s a big part of what Native people are like, I mean they are very community orientated. So I wanted to bring my son [Woucim Heap of Birds] with me because it was a better portrait of us as Native people, you know, me and him together rather than just me, again. Rather than a solo picture of me I made sure that they put us in that little blue booklet together. [You know that picture was taken by my wife in our home in Oklahoma City] So anyway, I’m just trying to put a real face on the portrait, or whatever, like a

real body or community on all those anonymous portraits. All those portraits have no emotion, they’re very static which is so unlike Native people. We’re always laughing, telling jokes, but no one knows that unless you go to see that or engage with us.

I caught up with Edgar over Skype and delved deeper into the problematic term and nature of the contemporary Native American ‘intervener’ and the act of ‘artistic intervention’ in indigenous collaborative and community curatorial practices within Western contemporary art galleries and institutions.

I started by asking Edgar how ‘effective’ he felt his event was in representing a contemporary Native presence?

EHOB:

HS: So in essence, with your work I mean, it’s not just about your work per se but you trying to build a living, thriving contemporary presence and Native identity?

EHOB: 14

Well, I mean it was very important for the context, you know just for the Catlin work itself, how absent that work is of a real Native persona. Especially the control factor, of the white man over the image of the Indian. The strange part of it is in today’s world, and even years ago, very few non- Natives know Indians on a personal level. They never visit reservations, never engage with us. But as we are assimilating right now, you know, trying to relate to one another, for Native people that has been our whole presence, it has been an immediate one. So, the paintings actually suffice for being representations of Natives all over the world and in the books and portraits and things, without ever having real people

Yes, but also how Native peoples would have been two hundred years ago. They would have been the same in terms of how gregarious they are, etc. There was sort of the two different missions for the NPG event. The first was to have the Native people be realised in a proper fashion. The second was to have the observer realise they’re being watched too, and that was my other point, that they are being observed... I guess by those paintings.

So everyone watches each other, so the white man doesn’t think about the Native gaze. They just think they’re so powerful, you know, all people, they’re always observing, always the

ones doing the observing, [like the Discovery Channel, Nat Geo], always watching the world like they control it, but they don’t realise the world is watching back, well especially in America anyway. So that’s what I asked the people, that they are being watched by those paintings and so it is actually a dialogue. So how would they see themselves?

Rather than Indians make a bad replica of them, you know, how do you see yourself?

And I guess that’s where the drawings came in, you know the artwork, making their own words about their own image.

HS: That was a nice touch, I have one myself at home. I thought it especially effective how you combined the personable interactivity with the photo-booth, you know, getting it out to everyone projected onto the wall. I guess this brings me one to a question about connectivity and interactivity, but most especially to what extent you think new media practices have influenced indigenous practices? Do

about this sort of thing in that way, in our tribe anyway, over the internet. You can’t leave a voice mail about things like that. You have to look eye-to-eye, and he knew that, but he was sort of skirting around, trying to contact me but wouldn’t do it face-to-face. He knew where I was but he didn’t come over to find me. So I said I’ll be at this cook-out thing at my mother’s on the reservation, and he came with his brother, mother, daughter, and then I was there with my wife, my daughter, brother, mother, and then everyone got to know each other. Then he asked me formally, gave me a gift and a prayer and asked for me

you feel that these new forms of communication have brought indigenous culture to the masses, on a global scale as it were, in a productive, effective way? How do you feel about that?

EHOB: It’s kind of a mixed blessing. For instance, I have a big project in Italy, have you seen it?

It’s called Most Serene Republics.

HS: I have, only through the internet though, ironically.

EHOB: Yeah it’s like a little film thing on YouTube or something. So, I can’t even control that stuff, like when I do a movie or a book or something I’m in control of it, and if I don’t like something I try to change it. So that’s the first thing about indigenous people is that we do have control over the media in some respects, you know, putting it out there. And

to instruct him. So we’ll be working together for fouryears and so will our families, so it’s really important that we had that formal meeting – and that’s how we do it, getting to know one another. And then I gave a prayer to him and our daughters played together. We could have made a phone call but it wouldn’t have been all that, it wouldn’t have been as full as what we encountered with one another.

So that’s a normal way to do things, when you have that encounter or experience – I mean I could have given him my book and my video and made him watch them but it wouldn’t have been so authentic you know. So media 15

hopefully people get a more honest portrait of what community is or what their feelings are. But then the mixed blessing part of it is then the viewer thinks they know you. And they don’t. To know somebody is to do what we’re doing now, we’re having a dialogue: I’m getting to know you, you’re getting to know me, through conversation, and that’s how we know each other. So with the media, it’s kind of a one-way communication, it’s not really getting to know anybody in that way.... it’s information. And it’s better that natives are controlling it but still nobody came to meet anybody or sit down, made a fire or give a gift or something. So for instance, I’ll tell you a little story. Right now I’m a leader of the ceremonies of my tribe, so this Saturday we had a BBQ at my mother’s house on the reservation – we have little cook outs you know – but this young man and his family came over and he asked me to instruct him in the ceremonies. So the protocol is, he was trying to email me and then call me but that is kind of illegal in our culture to ask someone

doesn’t replace the real contact, it’s informative but not irreplaceable. People today are very lazy, they want things quickly done, and so they really trust all that media...

For the full interview and some semi-entertaining analysis, check out my thesis in the History of Art MA thesis catalogues section in the library.

Organs of Intervention

By DizzySufi Biro on paper

16

17

PLACE 2013 The In-Between Collective, a student led art group, exhibiting at Bison Coffee House - 22nd November We embarked on a walk around the York city walls in order to respond collectively and individually to an activity which is typical to experiencing York as a place, as well as a way of experiencing York from various viewpoints.

We chose Bison* to exhibit our work after a thorough exploration of potential exhibition spaces in York, and ended up going full circle (literally) when we realised that the location, space, as well as the philosophy behind the cafe, fulfilled our criteria perfectly. Bison* is situated between the city and campus, existing as a space in which both university students and local residents gather. The environment is small and intimate, which we hope will give you a taste of our work we’re currently making, in its attention to intricacy and detail about life in York as a student.

went an art foundation at her hometown, Exeter, specialising in graphic design (typography and book design) and fine art installation. After a short stint in Architecture at UCL, she realised that she needed to write and make art about places, rather than designing them! Thus, Alice decided to study English Literature at York. I too, completed an art foundation course — studying at Falmouth. Here, I specialised in printmaking and drawing, dedicating my time to exploring the intricacies of the environment, seeking and creating narrative in specific locations. I am currently studying English and Philosophy after realising that I needed to engage in a course in which I could learn and reflect on thoughts and narrative, in the hope of returning back to art at a later date. Imogen frequents her journals with beautiful pen and ink drawings in response to her every-

Studying different academic subjects and having had contrasting experiences in art prior to meeting at York University, our work responds to PLACE in unique ways. Alice under-

18

day life. Studying English Literature, Imogen seeks interesting narratives and stories unfolding in her surroundings. Owen studies Biology with the intension of becoming a biochemist, enjoying photography as a means of capturing moments which the camera sees only and revelling in the beauty and simplicity of this form of image making.

available, so do come along! At present, we hope the exhibition will be up for a week or two, but to keep up to date with the practicalities and for more details, as well as the collective in general, please check out our blog: http://in-between-collective.blogspot.co.uk/ and ‘like’ our Facebook page: ‘in-between collective’.

Working predominantly in print, photography, paint and drawing, our exhibition exists of various responses to PLACE. Alice and I are members of Bar Lane Studios, enabling us to print whilst living in York, as well as connecting into the wider visual arts scene in York.

Thank you for reading!

Ellie Robinson-Carter

*Bison Coffee House and Vintage Store, 17 Heslington Road, York. Open Monday - Thursday 9-5, Friday - Saturday 9-6, Sunday 11 - 4.30.

Our exhibition opening will be *provisionally* booked to open in Bison,* Friday 22nd November (evening). The event will be free to attend and there will be lots of nibbles and drink

Photography by Owen Walton, Alice Kewellhampton and Ellie Robinson-Carter.

Place 2013 is the current project of In-between Collective.

Alice, Imogen, Owen and Ellie.

In Spring this year, we came together with an enthusiasm and determination to make art a bigger part of our lives and to make art happen in York. Studying different academic subjects, this project is enriched by our range of perspectives

and responses to PLACE. During our initial conversation in Bison* we exposed our feelings of ‘hovering over the city’, our relationship to the local residents as well as the process of transition between places. It soon became evident that we

19

all shared ideas in common, and felt the need to express them through our creative practice. From this starting point, we decided to form the In-between Collective and undertook our first collaborative project in July.

I bought three new books. The cashier asked me if I wanted a bag for them, but I said no. This was because I wanted to feel their matte covers beneath my fingertips and their reassuring, collective thickness as I clasped them together in one hand. I switched hands when my fingers got tired, because it was a long walk home. People forget that our relationships with books, the tactile relationships, begin long before we ever read them. The covers, the pretty spines, entice us. We pick them up, we feel their heft.

This is how we judge them worth our money.

The pages tickle my thumb as I flick through, not paying attention to the blurry text, but feeling the paper-scented breeze on my face and listening. The book purrs like a cat. It wants to be felt in this way. To be held, to be touched. If a book feels good, if it smells good, I know that it will be one of the special ones. These are the books that stay.

What’s written inside is only a part of what I remember. The way it feels as I read it. Books can be pleasantly heavy, voluptuous. They can be painfully heavy, make your forearms hurt with the effort of holding them. Some are enticingly slim. They feel compact, complete, in your hands. Content, context, touch, weight and smell. Occasionally these all align. Such books are perfect. When I am alone, now and then, I tear out a page from such books, and I eat it.

The Intervention “Oh really?” Fitzwilliam this time. “The other day I found a copy of Crime and Punishment in the fridge. In. The. Fridge.

It’s just sad. We want to help you.”

“I get mixed up sometimes, that’s not a crime. Everyone puts something in the wrong place now and again.” This is what I say. Actually I put it in the fridge because I wanted to eat that delicious bit with the axe, and paper is best when it’s cold and crisp.

“Regardless,” says Fitzwilliam, “we’ve decided it has to stop.

Your books are gone.”

“Gone. What do you mean, gone?”

Winston sighs. “Oxfam has them now.”

They were waiting for me when I got home, my housemates. This was unusual, their faces, what? Stony. Angry. Not quite. Concerned.

“We need to talk, put those books down.”

It occurs to me that I can’t recall names, I don’t see them much.

I will call one Fitzwilliam. The other is Winston. These are names in books I have recently read, these are solid.

“Put down the books,” Fitzwilliam says. Winston takes them from me, puts them on the coffee table. I don’t know what to say. I stand there with my mouth open.

“Sit,” says Winston, “It will be easier if you sit.”

I find my tongue. “What is this?”

“Sit.” I comply.

Fitzwilliam, he smiles, but his eyes are hard. Tries to speak, fails.

“What is this?” I ask again.

“It’s…your book habit,” Winston begins.

“It’s out of control,” Fitzwilliam ends.

“What are you talking about? I’m a literature student. Of course I read books, two, maybe three a week. That’s normal.”

“Don’t you remember last night?”

“What is there to remember?”

Fitzwilliam takes me by the hands and looks at me sadly. “You came in late last night, said you’d read fourteen books. And then you spewed plot and character everywhere. Don’t you remember? ‘Big Brother doesn’t want Elizabeth to marry Mr Darcy because she’s supposed to be marrying Thor, who wants to put her in his bloody chamber?’ That’s what you said, and more.”

“Oh, so I get plots confused sometimes. That can happen.”

“It’s not just that,” says Winston, “You leave them lying around everywhere. Books on the stairs, books in the living room, the kitchen worktops. What if one of us picked one up by accident and got sucked in? I’m making a sandwich and then, bam; I’m hooked on Game of Thrones. I’d be a wreck, like you. You can’t do that to us.”

“But I’m not a wreck.” I’m starting to feel quite insulted.

I think I made an inarticulate sound, and dashed upstairs.

They followed. I was greeted with barren, empty shelves. It’s one of the saddest things I have ever seen. Empty shelves, crying out to be filled. Little bits of dust and fluff, that’s all that was left. And then, I noticed a flash of red, peeping out from behind one of the bookcases. They must have missed that. If I could just get them out of the room, it might not be the end of the world.

“Perhaps you’re right,” I said.

“It’s for the best,” Fitzwilliam said.

“You’ll thank us for this, one day,” said Winston.

“Yes, yes,” I said. “But do you think I could perhaps have, oh, nothing much. Maybe a scrap of Tolstoy? Not even a crumb of Carter? A chapter of DeLillo? A…pinch of Pynchon? Okay, that was bad. Cold turkey, yes, you’re right, perhaps that will be best. Thank you. Now, I think I need to be alone for a bit.”

All of this, whilst I ushered them out of my bedroom.

Then, I slam the door and turn the key in the lock. They overlooked that, and I am exultant. I dive eagerly on the little flash of red behind the bookcase, and pull it out into the light.

Dickens. Hard Times. Oddly appropriate. It’s far from the best, but it will do for now.

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spec ops: the line, and the perils of intervening

it’s worth your time. And I advise playing it all in a single sitting, if you can, deep vein thrombosis be damned!

You play as Captain Martin Walker, sent with a reconnaissance team to a post-catastrophic Dubai. Contact has been lost with the team originally tasked with evacuating the city, led by Colonel John Konrad. Taking its premise from Joseph Conrad’s (see what they did there?) novella Heart of Darkness, and Francis Ford Coppola’s adaptation, Apocalypse Now, you can probably sense where the game is going. It seems like Konrad has set himself up as some sort of king of Dubai, and is now fighting it out with ‘the insurgents,’ who oppose his rule.

You’re caught in the middle. What do you do?

Tom Lubek considers the ideology of the world made as your military playground, encountered through geometrically differentiated buttons.

The game thrusts you into an impossible situation, in the manner of the Kobayashi Maru test in Star Trek (if my geek credentials were under any doubt). You react to what the game throws at you in the best way you can, according to your own internal moral compass. Or, you just think screw it, I’m going to be as big a bastard as I can. The temptation to do that is always there, and that can yield interesting results. The game ultimately shows how even actions undertaken with the best of intentions can have radically unpredictable consequences.

Many shooters on the market exploit the notion that the world can be your military playground, with real-world locations reduced to elaborate shooting galleries, in which you can have your fun taking pot shots at whichever threat to Western society happens to be most fashionable at the moment. Yager Development’s Spec Ops: The Line (released 2012) is a very different beast, despite employing many shooter conventions.

Never have I felt so involved in the ‘deaths’ that I have caused whilst playing a realistically themed video game, so I think I can safely say that the game sets out what it accomplishes to do. Sure, you can have fun being an absolute bastard, and it’s hard not to enjoy shooting people in the face whilst Martha Reeves (!) plays in the background on some level. But the game still gives you those “oh god, what have I done?” moments.

Why am I writing about a game that’s been out for over a year? First of all, I only played it for the first time a couple of months ago, but we’ll ignore that. Second, it has flaws. If I had paid the exorbitant prices that seem to be the going rate for new software these days, I’d have been pretty pissed off. But, as with all games, cheap copies now abound, and it’s well worth picking one up. The time to buy is now, as it were.

It’s short. It’s a game that I burned through in about four hours, maybe five at a push. The combat mechanics are a bit clunky, and the gameplay isn’t really that innovative. The AI might frustrate you at times. It’s a very pretty game, but the graphics don’t really push any envelopes. It features the vocal talents of Nolan North. Don’t get me wrong, he does a good job; he just seems to be in nearly every game out there. It does have an amazing soundtrack, but that might just be my musical tastes talking and it may not appeal to you at all. Worth a hefty £40 price tag? Hell, no. But, these days you can pick up a used copy for about a tenner. Add a few quid more if you’re fussy and HAVE to have a new copy. Now, that’s more like it! But I sense this is quickly developing into a rant about the prices of games, so I shall stop myself.

Perhaps the point that war isn’t all fun and games is something of a cliché, but it can easily be ignored, or obscured by the shooter genre. The Line shows you what you are capable of. Everything that happens from the moment you pick up the controller, as soon as Walker steps into Dubai, as soon as you intervene in the on-going situation, is down to you. Or so you think. Try your best to fix things; it almost certainly won’t be good enough.

So, why am I eulogising about a game that has such flaws? Simply, the narrative is where The Line really excels. Personally, I think that a game that makes you feel something other than “fuck yeah, I’m awesome” (though, that’s always nice, of course) is a success. The Line will definitely do that. It will probably make you hate yourself and what you’re capable of before those five hours are up. And that’s why 21

S

o you’ve probably seen the new collaboration between American Apparel and 20 year-old Toronto-born artist Petra Collins: a t-shirt called ‘Period Power’. The shirt shows a woman masturbating while her vagina is ‘gushing’ blood.

Apparently she wants to create “portraits exploring female sexuality and teen girl culture” – which is fine, but on a t-shirt? Really? Have we actually got to this point? This isn’t promoting feminism, this isn’t empowering women; it’s just provoking people and increasing the site-stats for American Apparel. I know it sounds like I’ve given up on trying to achieve equality, that I’ve succumbed to the male-dominance in society, but I haven’t, and I won’t.

I can see where Collins is coming from in the hope that this will shock people, get people talking, promote her works, and maybe open a few people’s eyes. I also appreciate that this is just a line of t-shirts and not a political campaign, but other than creating some controversy and starting various arguments, I can’t see how this will do

anything to change people’s views, especially considering how deeply-rooted the social stereotypes are. No woman is suddenly going to smash the glass-ceiling of society just because they’re wearing this top. This isn’t going to make men stand up and listen any more. If anything, it just seems like another string to the old ‘women are whingey, emotional and hormonal’ bow – the very out-of-date bow that should have snapped long ago.

American Apparel I am tired of women having to forever prove themselves as capable or equal.

Why should I have to prove myself to anyone? Why do you even question my abilities? Women are strong; emotionally, physically, mentally – and men know that, just some people choose to ignore it. Goodness knows why, when we were born equal. Another tired stereotype is that women are pathetic, needy, and flo-

ral: no actual woman is like that, maybe in soppy rom-coms, but your average woman in the street will be just as strong and determined as any man, if not more so.

Aside from the feminism debate, there’s controversy surrounding what the image depicts. You can call me a prude for saying this, but is it necessary to parade around with a vagina on our chest?

I think it’s going a bit too far; there was uproar a couple of years back over the image of Rihanna on Topshop shirts, so what is it about this image that makes it okay? Fine, it’s not a photograph, but that doesn’t matter; it is still very clear what the image is showing. And yes, I do agree that people shouldn’t be ashamed or embarrassed to talk about periods, but I still feel this natural process isn’t ever going to become a wardrobe staple, just like a dress with ejaculation or vomiting on it isn’t suddenly going to be en vogue.

So imagine you have actually purchased this t-shirt (which you may well have) – where are you going to wear it?

Do you want four year olds to see it? Are you going to explain it to them? What about the whole over-sexualisation of children, opening-their-eyes-to-the-adultworld-too-early debate? And I have a question: if this is an acceptable garment of clothing, why did we give Miley so much grief for her recent, public, junkshaking?

I mean, at least, she had pants on …

Baring All And More.

The Vagina T shirt

By Rachael Potter 22

Intervention and the

My father constantly takes umbrage at the fact that I do not follow his advice at every turn, despite many Bon-Joviesque, “but Daaaad, it’s my life,” speeches on the subject from me. But I’ve also been in situations where I’ve actually really needed someone to take me aside with a stern but loving, ‘Enough.’ Watching my friends go through similar situations, I feel myself constantly walking the tightrope, trying not to fall to the left – being a meddling so-and-so – and trying not to fall to the right – being in a position of responsibility, but not helping when you were desperately needed. It’s a toughie, alright.

Scattering of

Guilt

and

Responsibility

I’m a big believer in the idea that life is a learning curve, and that the mistakes we make help us learn how to do better next time. Sometimes it’s simply not enough to take lessons from someone else’s hardships/failings/mess; sometimes you simply have to be in the driving seat to understand. But watching from an outside point of view can be frustrating and painful too. It’s not easy to watch your friends suffer. But then again, we’re all different. We all have different drives, emotions, and ambitions, and the fact that a person’s current actions don’t sit right with you doesn’t automatically mean that it’s wrong for them, too. Sometimes it’s enough just to be able to hold your head above water; everything else is simply a bonus.

By Stephanie Milsom

Like a number of other unfortunate second years this summer, I did not go home to spend time with friends and family; I worked in York, living alone in my student house. I’m not usually the sort of person who deals with loneliness well, but pity not – it was actually pretty cool. I could walk round the house naked (I’m too lazy to get dressed); I could leave the house as messy as I wanted (my housemates are clean-freaks, I the exact opposite); I could sing(/screech) at the top of my lungs without worrying about paining anyone. I’d go as far as to say that it was pretty glorious.

Personally, I’d say it’s our responsibility as friends/loved ones/meddling so-and-sos to step in when it’s clear that someone is struggling, or even simply heading down the wrong path – but others don’t always see it that way. Is it too much like playing God to be the puppet master to our friends? The issue comes, perhaps, from the motivation behind the meddling. If it’s genuine concern, then get ready for your Best Friend Ever award; if it’s anything less than that, you might have to brace yourself for some serious guilt-tripping. I guess, ultimately, this is one of those ‘each to their own’ situations, but if you’re planning on staging an intervention of your own, maybe avoid using the banner.

To pass away the empty hours between working and sleeping, like a typical student I got hooked on watching shows online. A personal favourite quickly become How I Met Your Mother, which I watched from the pilot to the last episode of the penultimate season – where we finally see the mother’s face! For anyone who hasn’t seen the show, it documents the capers and crusades of five twenty-somethings living in New York, and I admit that I got pretty obsessed. One aspect which stood out, mainly because most people have been in this situation at some point or other in their lives, was the Interventions.

Members of the group habitually stage Interventions – decorative banner, pre-prepared speeches and all – for those whom they feel are overstepping the proverbial line in some way, a habit which Kevin, Robin’s psychiatrist boyfriend, views as meddling and incestuous. Offences ranged from Lily’s terrible British accent to Barney’s excessive magic tricks; from Marshall’s massive stripy hat to Robin’s out of control obsession with Barney.

Is it too much like playing God to be the puppet master to our friends?

It got me thinking; there have been many times when I’ve offered advice to friends, with the thought that I had the answers because I’d been there before/could see it from an outside perspective(/have a tendency to think I’m right) – and there have been many more times when I’ve turned to others for guidance, even if I haven’t taken on board their suggestions.

When is the right time (if, indeed, there is one) to step in when your nearest and dearest are making decisions you feel to be wrong? Or, as many people love to preach, should we just let others make their own mistakes, seeing as that seems to be the best way to learn?

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Taking Text to the Butchers

A

Towards a New Editorial Intervention

novel is commonly regarded as the product of its author’s imagination.

Famous novelists become household names in a similar manner to politicians, actors or athletes, and book covers, prominently featuring their authors’ names in large font and eye-catching colours, re-affirm our perception of the novelist as the sole creator and imaginative force behind a work of literature.

However, many claim that this image of the lone artist single-handedly producing a great work of art can make us forget that there are more complex processes involved in the creation of a novel, pointing particularly to the contribution of the editor. At best, the editor can hope to be mentioned briefly in the author’s Acknowledgments, but the reality is that he or she usually remains anonymous, following what poet and author Blake Morrison calls the editor’s “tradition of self-effacement”. This lack of recognition is perhaps mostly due to the editor’s particular input in the final product being so hard to pin-point. What does the editor do? The editor edits, naturally, but what does that entail? Proof-reading? Rejecting certain aspects of the work and encouraging others? Prompting new ideas?

Intervening even in the creative process?

With the role of the editor so difficult to define, mediating precariously between the commercial and creative aspects of the novel-writing process, it is worth asking whether editors are truly necessary. After all, no one would consider editing the work of an artist, or a musician, sending back paintings or compositions with a list of annotations and suggestions. Why should a novel be any different? Particularly nowadays, with online outlets making the processes involved in publishing, marketing, and promoting a novel much easier and more accessible to individuals, surely an editor would only inhibit the immediate relationship authors could otherwise establish with their readers. Do we really

need the editor, then? Do authors and readers really need this interventionist authority mitigating between them, arbitrarily determining which parts of the novel are fit for publication and which aren’t? Surely it would benefit everyone to have a clearer division between the producers of the work and the recipients, its consumers.

Whilst recent trends seem to go so decidedly against the editor, favouring instead the independent, media-savvy, self-publishing author, the survival of their profession must rely mainly on one thing: being valued and appreciated by the author. This, of course isn’t always the case. Throughout literary history, writers have often remarked contemptuously on the work of editors. Henry James compared it to the “butcher’s trade”, Lord Byron described it as a form of “gelding”, and Nabokov dismissed it as “proof-reading.” And although there have undoubtedly been many failed editor-author relationships, the successful ones stand out all the more for the quality of the collaboration they resulted in.

The most prominent of such success stories is that of Maxwell Perkins, editor of Ernest Hemingway, Scott Fitzgerald, and Tom Wolfe. Perkins established intimate relationships with the authors he worked with, and his suggestions and ideas shaped the novels that would become classics of modern literature. His input in The Great Gatsby, to name just one example, was crucial: not only did he prompt Fitzgerald to make the novel significantly longer than originally intended; he also encouraged ideas that are now instantly recognizable themes and features of the novel, such as the eyes of Dr T.J. Eckleburg, and Gatsby’s habitual “old sport” phrase.

The unique role of the editor as both removed from and at the same time heavily involved in the process of writing isn’t a thing of the past. Toni Morrison considers her collaboration with editor Robert Gottlieb “vital”. Young 24

adult novelist John Green, well-known for communicating directly with his readership on social media sites such as Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, has been particularly articulate in emphasizing the importance of the editor, pointing out that without his editor’s input, his novels would be “unreadably self-indulgent”.

The consensus, therefore, is not only that editing is necessary, but that it is hard work. Rather than pointing out spelling errors and incongruities, the relationship between editor and author should ideally involve intense collaboration, and the creative exchange of ideas.

It is this kind of intensity that is in danger of being overrun by the current trend in publishing that involves speeding up processes, cutting down on editorial staff, and investing instead in the digitalisation of the market. The plethora of online companies offering their “editorial services” to writers is exemplary of this development. A simple Google search will prompt countless adverts promising “pro services” with “transparent costs, fast results, and guaranteed satisfaction”.

This of course has nothing to do with the painstaking effort that the creation of any good work of art must necessitate and is indicative of the ways in which new media have made us value quantity over quality and demand constant and instant gratification.

The editor should break this trend, proving that, especially in an age in which we are inundated by various forms of text, the novel is worth the time and collaborative effort authors and editors invest in it. Rather than isolating the individual author and reducing the process of creating a novel to simply putting a text online, new developments in media and technology should be used to facilitate and improve this collaborative effort and maintain the role of the editor as one of positive, creative intervention.

By Kirstin Sonne.

Sense

and

Stupidity

---Stephanie Milsom on the rebooting of Jane Austen into the 21st century, the era of iPhone Romeos--An uncomfortable new project has recently come to my attention, one that uncovered polarisation of the highest degree within the first few minutes of frantic Googling. Someone is making Jane Austen modern. Best-selling author Joanna Trollope, along with a number of other well-known writers, has been commissioned by HarperFiction to ‘reboot’ Austen’s classic Sense and Sensibility for a modern audience, as part of The Austen Project. The novel’s new spin incorporates aspects of 21st-century life such as student-hood, embarrassing YouTube videos, and text conversations between the young lovers.

little hypocritical of me to shun such projects. The difference between the two, though, lies in the fact that one is a essentially a modern copy, while another is quite different – a story set in modern times, based on the themes, characters, and plotlines of a classic work. The film doesn’t claim to be Taming of the Shrew; it’s not a play-by-play copy; it’s a ‘based-on’, rather than an exact, modernised replica.

Not only that, there’s also another motivation for modernising Shakespeare’s work – whilst he wrote in what we now class as Early Modern English, a large number of the words he used and the things he talked about are obsolete now, causing a considerable barrier for readers. Austen, however, used Modern English, which we speak and write in today (although of course with a few differences). Some of her themes may be no longer relevant, but the ‘need’ for modernisation is arguably much less for her work than for that of others. Put simply, 10 Things I Hate About You is a story in its own right, whilst Trollope’s Sense and Sensibility seems like a cheap copy. To truly be able to judge its worth for myself, the only thing I can do is read it – much as my inner (snobby) bookworm may loathe to buy it.

The proof, as they say, will be in the reading.

Like most literary fanatics, my first response to this news was something along the lines of, ‘they’ve done WHAT?!’

While definitely not my favourite author, Austen’s books have shaped by educational and social life for many years and I find it slightly disturbing, if not very uncomfortable, that her works are being meddled with. It just seems unnecessary. Of course, whatever happens, the gravity and quality of her books will not be tainted; these new modern versions are simply that – only alternate versions. Despite this, it’s not just me that finds the new project hard to swallow. Commenters on the Guardian’s website have labelled the move ‘vandalism’, responding to the question of who they’d most like to see take on the modern rewritings with ‘no one.’

It’s not even necessarily some (possibly misplaced) notion of purity that many hold dear when thinking/reminiscing/blabbering on about the classics. For me at least, I fail to grasp the point (nor where the glory lies in the endeavour) of copying another’s work, changing a few names and adding an iPad or two here and there, and calling it literature. Of course, we’re all familiar with the old theory that there are only ever really thousands of variations on the same seven stories, but there’s a definite difference between writing your own work which happens to be similar to others because humans have finite resources available to them, and making out like you did all the work because you touched up a classic.

While the attempt to make the favourites of old-timey high-brow literature appealing and available to ALL readers (I’m looking at you, trash-lit fans) is undoubtedly a noble one, reducing and tainting the quality of a book loved and adored by many for generations ignores the point of great writing.

Austen, though she may not be everyone’s cup of tea, produced exquisitely balanced characters, spinning satire, comedy, love, fear, politics, gender dynamics, social pressures, and a myriad of other more subtle plates in every one of her works – which is exactly why, in my opinion, they are considered classics in the first place. And more than that – they are a window onto history, a part of our past that we shouldn’t be so desperate to ‘improve’ simply because some of the themes are no longer so relevant. Making her works modern not only removes the history; it removes all the delicate work she put in there in the first place.

Illustration from Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. The illustration is

by Hugh Thomson (1860-1920). “He cut off a long lock of her hair.” (According to the customs and etiquette of the time, permitting him to take a lock of her hair as a keepsake would be considered improper on her part unless the two were actually engaged.)

At the same time, however, one of my favourite films is 10 Things I Hate About You, a modern reworking of Old Shakey’s The Taming of the Shrew, so it would be more than a 25

I Will Not Let An Exam Result Decide My Fate Spoken Word Poem by Suli Breaks

Right now, there is a kid finishing parents evening in a heated discussion with his mother, Saying Why does he have to study subjects he will never ever use in his life?

And she will look at him blank eyed, stifle a sigh, think for a second, and then lie.

She’ll say something along the lines of You know to get a good job you need a good degree, and these subjects will help you get a good degree We never had this opportunity when I was younger.

And he will reply “But you were young a long time ago, weren’t you, Mum?” And she won’t respond, although what he implies makes perfect sense: that society’s needs would have changed since she was sixteen But she will ignore him, grip his hand more sternly, then drag him to the car.

But what she doesn’t know is that she didn’t ignore him just to shut him up; she didn’t lie because they were just returning from parents’ evening, and an argument in the hallway would look bad on her resume; she won’t lie because she’s just spent the last one hour convincing a stern-faced teacher that she will ensure that her child studies more at home.

No. She will lie simply because she does not know any better herself, although her whole adult life she has never used or applied Pythagoras’ Theorem, pathetic fallacy, and still does not know the value of x She will rely on society to tell her that her child, who has one of the sharpest minds in the school, is hyperactive, unfocused, easily distracted, and wayward.

Students, how many equations, subjects, and dates did you memorise just before an exam never to use again?

How many A grades did you get, which were never asked for when you applied for a job?

How many times have you remembered something five minutes just after the teacher said, ‘stop writing,’ only to receive your results one month later, to realise that you were only one mark short of the top grade?

Does that mean remembering five minutes earlier would have made you more qualified for a particular job?

Well, on an application form, it would have.

We all have different abilities, thought processes, experiences and genes, So why is a class full of individuals tested by the same means?

Does that mean Cherelle thinks she’s dumb because she couldn’t do a couple of sums?

And if this issue is not addressed properly, it then becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy; And every school has the audacity to have a policy on equality.

Huh, the irony!

Exams are society’s methods of telling you what you’re worth, But you can’t let society tell you what you are, Because this is the same society that tells you that abortion is wrong, and then looks down on teenage parents; The same society that sells products to promote natural hair, looks, and smooth complexion, with the model on the both half-photoshopped, and has fake lashes and hair extensions; With pastors that preach charity but own private jets; Imams that preach against greed but are all fat; Parents that say they want ‘educated kids’ but constantly marvel at how rich Richard Branson is; 26

A B ABCDEF D E F Governments that preach peace but endorse war; That say they believe so much in the important of higher education and further learning – Then why increase tuition fees every single year?

I believed Miss Jefferson when she took me into the office and said that my exams would be imperative to my success Because we were taught to allows follow when Miss Jefferson led.

Then I took Jefferson out of the equation and learned to think for myself; I realised we was always taught to follow when MISLED. Huh, the irony!

Test us with tests, but the finals are never final Because they never prepare us for the biggest test, Which is survival.

And what I suggest is fairly outlandish So I do not expect everyone to understand this, Except for the kid that knows what it feels like to be worth no more than that D or that A that you get on results day And the ones whose best stories were never good enough for the English teacher, Because apparently you missed out key literal techniques, did not follow the class plan, and the language was too ‘informal’ for him to understand, But then he’d reference Hamlet and Macbeth And you’d fight the urge to express your contempt by partially clenching your fist with only your medius finger protruding in the middle of your hand, And then ask if he was aware that Shakespeare was known as the innovator of slang.

Or the kid at the back of the class who thinks, ‘Why am I studying something that doesn’t fuel my drive?’

But then when confronted with a maths problem his eyes come alive.

So this one is for my generation, The ones who found what they were looking for on Google, The ones who followed their dreams on Twitter, Pictured their future on Instagram, Accepted destiny on Facebook.

This one’s for my ‘failures’ and my ‘dropouts’, for my unemployed graduates, my shop assistants, cleaners, and cashiers with bigger dreams, My self-employed entrepreneurs, my world-changers and my dream-chasers, Cause the purpose of Why I hate school, but love education was not to initiate a world-wide debate, But to let them know that, whether 72, 0r 88 44, or 68, We will not let exam results decide our fate.

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On the Primordial Destination of Information

By WindedMessenger All information eventually tells us that there is suffering, the most universal and enduring of truths. Scientific information communicates nothing but the human capacity of suffering. Defects in an organism, the cancerous growth of tissue, the degeneration of muscle fibres...Biological and medical knowledge is not neutral, it tells us nothing except the organism’s agency to suffer.

Political and social news is pregnant with the capacity to suffer, bad news finds us and we suffer, good news exists as against a background of an originally suffering world. Good news is a white dove in a thatch of thornbushes.

But, is dry factual evidence, or neutral information, embedded with the capacity of suffering? Is Logic capable of this? Does the statement “red is a colour” contain sufferable elements? Yes, (after a Husserlian epoché). We do not see the sentence “red is a colour,” as x = y. We see redness and know it as part of us, of our bodies. We are red. We are colour.

In all these sentences that have been written and read, we have remembered pools of red hazes, the angry faces of children, the red cheeks of a sobbing lover, mourners and murderers, the splatter of blood across steel and dirt, the pain of holding a rose by its thorny stem.

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LOU REED 1942 - 2013

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Roz Hayes remembers Lou Reed; rockstar and Tai Chi practitoner.

ou Reed - Velvet Underground frontman and prolific solo artist, Warhol collaborator, notorious nihilist - died last month. You probably knew that already. What you might be not aware of though is Reed’s dedication to chen tai chi which spanned the last three decades of his life.

out the colab with Metallica), Reed turned to composing meditation music. In 2007 he released Hudson River Wind Meditations, an hour long album which sounds like one very long song composed of a continuous series of hums and wind recordings. It doesn’t have the darkness of Velvet Underground nor the lyrical honesty you might be accustomed to with Lou Reed’s output but it is well honed background music, perfect for following the form of the ancient martial art.

How is it that one of the foremost pioneers of art rock and punk music, whose vivid lyrical descriptions of hard drug use and low-living ran through much of his famous output, came to the seemingly calm and regimented practice of Tai Chi?

“I just put some music together for those who want to, to hopefully enrich the experience of doing any one of a couple of things body disciplines, meditation, body work, different kinds of exercises.”

“Well, everybody does something, some people race cars, others collect stamps, I find Tai Chi to be philosophically, aesthetically, physically and spiritually fascinating,” he told Kung Fu Tai Chi magazine in 2007.

Reed never saw himself as a martial artist however, only a student. He likened it to the status of visual artists saying, “Van Gogh, there’s a painter. Lots of people paint, lots of people teach painting, are they artists? No.” The real artist was Master Ren Guang Yi, the tai chi teacher who Reed followed diligently; everyday, for two hours in private tuition. It clearly became a practice of solace for him, presumably giving a routine that helped keep him on the straight and narrow, something he had struggled with in his younger years:

Lou Reed following tai chi was not your usual intervention.

It was one without a prime mover, without an conscious agenda from any party. Looking back over his life it seems perhaps incongruous but, at the same time, a natural and consuming practice which apparently became one of the main foci of Reed’s life. It is an element of his life unfamiliar to many but, if you’re anything like me, adds further fascination to one of the figureheads of early punk rock.

“I practice when I’m on tour.

In the hotel find out is there a conference room, a board room, and at some point there’s bound to be one that’s empty. In you go, and you just lock it.”

Laurie Anderson, Reed’s widow, included a poignant image in the short obituary for her late husband saying, “He died looking at the trees and doing the famous 21 form of tai chi with just his musician hands moving through the air.”

An artist famed for his musical diversity (seriously, check 29

Pygmy Polyphonic Music

The above photograph: a European traveller with pygmies from central Africa.

LittleYodeler explains the musical genius of hunter-gatherers.

Background

There are in Central Africa, a group of people called Pygmies, they are nomadic hunter-gatherers deep within rainforests. They never leave this place and are thus biologically defined by it, studies have shown that their visual perception cannot recognize spatial depth because they have never gazed into a distant view.

These people are radically different from us in society structure, physiology and also their music. Their group singing has been the subject of many ethnomusicological studies and

a source of controversy, because their music is polyphonic, contrapuntal and improvised.

when all the voices or parts move together in the same rhythm, as in a texture of block chords.

Polyphony

Counterpoint

Polyphony is two or more simultaneous melodic lines being perceived as independent but are musically related. In Western music polyphony typically includes a contrapuntal separation of melody and bass. A texture is more purely polyphonic, and thus more contrapuntal, when the musical lines are rhythmically differentiated.

A subcategory of polyphony, called homophony, exists in its purest form

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Counterpoint is the art of combining these polyphonic melodic lines, it is how they are woven together, it requires the melodies to work together whilst retaining independence. It has been hailed as a Western musical invention, reaching its apex in the works of Johann Sebastian Bach (see The Well-Tempered Clavier).

But this art has been used by the African pygmy tribes for thousands

Elamba song, Mama Angeli

of years, estimates reaching as far back as 75,000 years ago, the dawn of humanity.

On the origin of the songs

The Medicine Men (and sometimes women with reputed medicinal powers) compose these songs. They are the purveyors of these songs to the human level, for it is God himself who really gives these songs to the Medicine Men, along with the concomitant medicines, during the times of trance or of nocturnal dreams after such a Theophanous experience, the Medicine Man will bring back the song to the women of his community.

The Song

Supernatural energy songs are sung by healers in dreams or during a trance, it is here that the ancestral spirits introduce an initial melody.

The healer sings a melody to his/ her spouse without variations and

the spouse follows the healers vocal line, but tries to avoid an identical reproduction of what he/she is singing. Once the principal vocal line has been memorized, the healer then elaborates two other melodies in the secondary ‘tessituras’ or textures.

The principal vocal line is then transmitted to the other members of the village who try to imitate of without exactly reproducing it. Once the melodies have been memorised in the three tessituras, each singer begins to elaborate on the variations.

The melodies are elaborated in relation to each other, they are rarely predetermined, the music follows a system that facilitates an infinite number of musical possibilities. This system is invisible and unspeakable because it is never taught or written down, rather it is learnt in the same way children learn language. They are born into a culture that is oblivious to its complex contrapuntal and polyphonic music.

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Liquindi

A consequence of their nomadic lifestyle is a lack of musical instruments, instead they are left with their voices and hands. Thus, Liquindi is the music of hands and water; when women are left at the village for weeks during men’s hunting expeditions they are left to create rich and complex rhythmical music that range from four beats to sixteen beats. Liquindi is also polyrhythmic, two or more different rhythms work together, only Stravinsky was able to emulate polyrhythm in his Rite of Spring to such an extent as the Liquindi.

Another issue arising from this is the gendering of music. Firstly, women and men fulfil their roles in different spaces, the river, the home, the forest, etc. With the materials given in these environments the women and men create different musical textures, and children grow up experiencing musical difference as sexual difference.

Every neural cell begins at the nucleus, it branches out.

I have always used this magazine as drawing paper.

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