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Video games are an enormous segment of popular media today, comparable to tele-vision and movies. Moreover, video games represent a new form of media distinguishedfrom previous forms due to the interactive element, where game players have the ability to change and influence the game world. This paper contributes to the study of race and popular media by examining how race is presented in role-playing video games throughthe feature of avatar creation. Capabilities for avatar creation are analyzed in over sixty massively multiplayer online role-playing games (MMORPGs) in service as of early2010 and twenty offline role-playing games (RPGs) published over the past 10 years.The analysis shows that the vast majority of games, both online and offline, do not allow for the creation of avatars with a non-white racial appearance. Forcing an Angloappearance on avatars that purport to represent the player has the potential to reinforce asense of normative whiteness as well as shape the social composition of online worldsinto all-white virtual spaces, contributing to the creation of a virtual“white habitus.”

Video games are inherently transnational by virtue of their industrial, textual, and player practices. This collection includes essays from scholars from eight countries analyzing game cultures on macro- and micro-levels and investigates the growing transnational nature of digital play

Game Studies is a rapidly growing area of contemporary scholarship, yet volumes in the area have tended to focus on more general issues. With Playing with the Past, game studies is taken to the next level by offering a specific and detailed analysis of one area of digital game play -- the representation of history. The collection focuses on the ways in which gamers engage with, play with, recreate, subvert, reverse and direct the historical past, and what effect this has on the ways in which we go about constructing the present or imagining a future. What can World War Two strategy games teach us about the reality of this complex and multifaceted period? Do the possibilities of playing with the past change the way we understand history? If we embody a colonialist's perspective to conquer 'primitive' tribes in Colonization, does this privilege a distinct way of viewing history as benevolent intervention over imperialist expansion? The fusion of these two fields allows the editors to pose new questions about the ways in which gamers interact with their game worlds. Drawing these threads together, the collection concludes by asking whether digital games - which represent history or historical change - alter the way we, today, understand history itself.

This article explores issues of racial essentialism and ethnicity in the massively multiplayer online role-playing game World of Warcraft (WoW). The fantasy world of Azeroth mirrors elements of real-world race-based societies where culture is thought to be immutably linked to race. The notion of biological essentialism is reinforced throughout the gamescape. Race plays a primary role in the social and political organization of Azeroth. Among other things, race determines alliances, language, intellect, temperament, occupation, strength, and technological aptitude. The cultural representation of the respective racial groups in WoW draws upon stereotypical imagery from real-world ethnic groups (e.g., American Indian, Irish/Scottish, Asian, African, etc.).

The issue of identity formation when playing an avatar in a video game has recently become perceived as both increasingly complex and contentious. Game critics argue both for and against the apparent seamlessness in the identity formation in video games. However, while the case against seamlessness builds up with respect to other gaming genres, first-person shooters (FPS) are often still singled out as best representing this first-person identification whereby players were supposed to be totally immersed in their avatars while they played the game. In the light of recent research, this chapter builds on earlier research to reveal further problems in assuming a seamless merging of identity even in the FPS. It argues that the very conception of subjectivity has always been problematized through the FPS, and that the genre itself self-consciously keeps pointing this out. As an example of the latter, the chapter focuses on the S.T.A.L.K.E.R. video games to show how FPS games prompt players to question their in-game identity(ies) because the playing subject, instead of being a fixed entity, is hard-wired into the process of exploration that constitutes gameplay.

Darkest Africa, the imagining of colonial fantasy, in many ways still lives on. Popular cultural representations of Africa often draw from the rich imagery of the un-charted, un-knowable ‘other’ that Africa represents, fraught with post-colonial tensions. When Capcom made the decision to set the latest instalment of its Resident Evil series in an imagined African country, it was merely looking for a new, unexplored setting, and they were therefore surprised at the controversy that surrounded its release. The 2009 game Resident Evil 5 was accused of racially stereotyping the black zombies and the white protagonist. These allegations have largely been put to rest, as this was never the intention of Capcom in developing the game or selecting the setting. However, the underlying questions remain: How is Africa represented in the game? How does the figure of the zombie resonate within that representation? And why does this matter?

Though research examining violence in video games (VGs) and its potential real-world effects has been a target of academic attention, content analysis of demographical marginalization in VGs has not been as prolific. What little research there is reveals a pronounced absence and stereotyping of women and racial or ethnic minorities but ignores queer content altogether. This work explores video game demographics through quantitative analysis of the demographic composition and stereotyping of characters from 30 popular VG titles. Findings of this study support that of past analyses, evidencing that the representation of women and racial minorities is both rare and stereotyped. Queer characters are also shown to be sparse and stereotyped. While past research has largely treated race and gender separately, this study shows that multiply marginalized groups, including queers, are even more underrepresented and stereotyped. The sociocultural implications of these findings are discussed and suggestions are made for future analysis and marketing.

The western media has been eager to construct an apparent link between the so-called moral desensitization of soldiers in the 2003 Iraq War and their expe-rience of video game combat. Commentators assert that ‘games have avoided engaging the real-life issues to which they are responding’ (Zacny 2008), includ-ing the issue of combat trauma. Contrary to such positions, many video games already simulate the trauma in their gameplay experience; this article explores this concept from Brown’s definition of trauma as ‘outside the range of human experience’ (1995: 101). This evokes recent work in games studies on in-game involvement and identity-formation and raises questions about the role of moral-ity in gameplay, especially in multi-player combat games like Counter-Strike, Call of Duty 4 and America’s Army. Working from these hitherto overlooked aspects of trauma in gameplay experiences, this article challenges the oversim-plified association of video games with the desensitization of US troops in recent conflicts.

Traces the rise of black participation in cyberspace.Deftly interweaving history, culture, and critical theory, Anna Everett traces the rise of black participation in cyberspace, particularly during the early years of the Internet. She challenges the problematic historical view of black people as quintessential information-age outsiders or poster children for the digital divide by uncovering their early technolust and repositioning them as eager technology adopters and consumers, and thus as coconstituent elements in the information technology revolution. She offers several case studies that include lessons learned from early adoption of the Internet by the Association of Nigerians Living Abroad and their Niajanet virtual community, the grassroots organizing efforts that led to the phenomenally successful Million Woman March, the migration of several historic black presses online, and an interventionist critique of race in contemporary video games. Ultimately, Digital Diaspora shows how African Americans and African diasporic peoples developed the necessary technomastery to ride in the front of the bus on the information superhighway.Anna Everett is Professor of Film and Media Studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara. Her books include Learning Race and Ethnicity: Youth and Digital Media; New Media: Theories and Practices of Digitextuality; and Returning the Gaze: A Genealogy of Black Film Criticism, 1909–1949.

This article focuses on questioning and theorizing the visual and discursive disappearance of blackness from virtual fantasy worlds. Using EverQuest, EverQuest II, and World of Warcraft as illustrative of a timeline of character creation design trends, this article argues that the disappearance of blackness is a gradual erasure facilitated by multicultural design strategies and regressive racial logics. Contemporary fantasy massively multiplayer online role-playing games (MMORPGs) privilege whiteness and contextualize it as the default selection, rendering any alterations in coloration or racial selection exotic stylistic deviations. Given the Eurocentrism inherent in the fantasy genre and embraced by MMORPGs, in conjunction with commonsense conceptions of Blacks as hyper-masculine and ghettoized in the gamer imaginary, players and designers do not see blackness as appropriate for the discourse of heroic fantasy. As a result, reductive racial stereotypes and representations proliferate while productive and politically disruptive racial differences are ejected or neutralized through fantastical proxies.

This paper approaches the debate over the notion of “magic circ-le” through an exploratory analysis of the unfolding of identities/differences in gameplay through Derrida’s différance. Initially, différance is related to the notion of play and identity/difference in Derrida’s perspective. Next, the notion of magic circle through Derrida’s play is analyzed, emphasizing the dynamics of diffé-rance to understand gameplay as process; questioning its boun-daries. Finally, the focus shifts toward the implications of the interplay of identities and differences during gameplay.

This article presents the ways in which Muslims and Arabs are represented and represent themselves in video games. First, it analyses how various genres of European and American video games have constructed the Arab or Muslim Other. Within these games, it demonstrates how the diverse ethnic and religious identities of the Islamic world have been flattened out and reconstructed into a series of social typologies operating within a broader framework of terrorism and hostility. It then contrasts these broader trends in western digital representation with selected video games produced in the Arab world, whose authors have knowingly subverted and refashioned these stereotypes in two unique and quite different fashions. In conclusion, it considers the significance of western attempts to transcend simplified patterns of representation that have dominated the video game industry by offering what are known as 'serious' games.

Today’s media are vast in both form and influence; however, few cultural studies scholars ad-dress the video gaming industry’s role in domestic maintenance and global imposition of U.S. hegemonic ideologies. In this study, video games are analyzed by cover art, content, and origin of production. Whether it is earning more “powers” in games such as Star Wars, or earning points to purchase more powerful artillery in Grand Theft Auto, capitalist ideology is reinforced in a subtle, entertaining fashion. This study shows that oppressive hegemonic representations of gender and race are not only present, but permeate the majority of top-selling video games. Finally, the study traces the origins of best-selling games, to reveal a virtual U.S. monopoly in the content of this formative medium.

This book develops a nuanced decolonial critique that calls for the decolonization of media and communication studies in Africa and the Global South. Last Moyo argues that the academic project in African Media Studies and other non-Western regions continues to be shaped by Western modernity’s histories of imperialism, colonialism, and the ideologies of Eurocentrism and neoliberalism. While Africa and the Global South dismantled the physical empire of colonialism after independence, the metaphysical empire of epistemic and academic colonialism is still intact and entrenched in the postcolonial university’s academic programmes like media and communication studies. To address these problems, Moyo argues for the development of a Southern theory that is not only premised on the decolonization imperative, but also informed by the cultures, geographies, and histories of the Global South. The author recasts media studies within a radical cultural and epistemic turn that locates future projects of theory building within a decolonial multiculturalism that is informed by trans-cultural and trans- epistemic dialogue between Southern and Northern epistemologies.

Rentable produit d'exportation diffusé dans 128 pays, le feuilleton télévisé brésilien fait partie du quotidien de la population depuis une trentaine d'années. Si une grande part de son succès repose sur l'exploitation de « la culture des sentiments », dans sa version la plus moderne, il sait aussi plonger au cœur de la réalité comme l'a démontré entre autres avec brio « Le roi du troupeau » (1986) qui mettait en scène le conflit entre les sans-terre et les grands propriétaires terriens.

While expanding critiques of pinkwashing have drawn increasing attention to how queer issues in Israel and the Occupied Palestinian Territories are perniciously mobilized by a network of lobby groups, Brand Israel initiatives, and international gay and lesbian organizations, these critiques often fail to consider how queer Palestinians mobilize and understand themselves. This article reports on an October 2011 panel and film screening at Yale University and the Hagop Kevorkian Center for Near Eastern Studies at New York University. “Queer/Palestinian: Critical Strategies in Palestinian Queer and Women's Filmmaking” uniquely focused on questions of queerness and Palestine through a program of eight new Palestinian visual productions. The program brought together Palestinian film scholars, filmmakers, visual artists, and curators for a discussion of queer and feminist artistic practice in relation to Palestinian strategies for resistance. Together, the “Queer/Palestinian” films suggest the urgency for Palestinian visual artists to persistently generate new means of expressing, embodying, and critiquing visions for Palestinian society. Films such as Victoria Moufawad-Paul's Nus Enssas/ صيصنصن (Canada, 2011) and Raafat Hattab's Hourieh (Palestine, 2011) explore issues ranging from queer diasporic solidarity politics and challenges to out/closeted binaries and to the creative reinscription of nakba narratives. Nadia Awad's Two Adaptations of the Same Novel (US, 2011), Suzy Salamy's 1982/2006 (US, 2006), and Moufawad-Paul's Rejoice, O My Heart / يبلق اي حرفا (Canada, 2011) suggest an irreverent queer strategy by undermining the narrative conventions and visual codes of mainstream news media and popular US and Egyptian cinema. Salamy's video, previously projected through mobile exhibition on city buildings, and Eli Rezik's online “web-movies” Living Alone without Me (Palestine, 2011) and Between Us Two (Palestine, 2011) compelled a panel discussion of alternative means of distribution and exhibition. Finally, Alaa AbuAsad's Masturbate bil beit (Palestine, 2011) rounded out the program with an explicitly erotic and unapologetically political version of the meeting of “queer” and “Palestinian.”

This book looks closely at some of the most significant films within the field of queer Sinophone cinema. Examining queerness in films produced in the PRC, Taiwan and Hong Kong, the book merges the Sinophone with the queer, theorising both concepts as local and global, homebound as well as diasporic.

Inuit have been participating in the development of photo-reproductive media since at least the 19th century, and indeed much earlier if we continue on Michelle Raheja’s suggestion that there is much more behind Nanook’s smile than Robert Flaherty would have us believe. This paper examines how photographer Peter Pitseolak (1902-1973) and filmmaker Zacharias Kunuk have employed photography and film in relation to Raheja’s notion of “visual sovereignty” as a process of infiltrating media of representational control, altering their principles to visualize Indigenous ownership of their images. For camera-based media, this pertains as much to conceptions of time, continuity and “presence,” as to the broader dynamics of creative retellings. This paper will attempt to address such media-ontological shifts – in Pitseolak’s altered position as photographer and the effect this had on his images and the “presence” of his subjects, and in Kunuk’s staging of oral histories and, through the nature of film as an experience of “cinematic time,” composing time in a way that speaks to Inuit worldviews and life patterns – as radical renegotiations of the mediating properties of photography and film. In that they displace the Western camera’s hegemonic framing and time-based structures, repositioning Inuit “presence” and relations to land within the fundamental conditions of photo-reproduction, this paper will address these works from a position of decolonial media aesthetics, considering the effects of their works as opening up not only for more holistic, community-grounded representation models, but for expanding these relations to land and time directly into the expanded sensory field of media technologies.

El retrato ha sido, a lo largo de la historia de la fotografía, un ritual cuya gramática visual está siempre condicionada por una mirada determinada. Retratamos para recordar, para fijar un instante en el tiempo. Cuando recordamos lo fotografiado convocamos de nuevo ese instante, pero, además, convocamos una realidad, un orden social específico construido por determinados actores sociales. La fotografía ha representado y legitimado en muchos momentos un patrón de poder colonial que, a través de sus estructuras de dominación, ha elaborado rígidas jerarquías sociales y raciales que han circunscrito a indios, afros, mujeres y clases populares a lo que Frantz Fanon llama la zona del No-ser. ¿Es posible recordar, entonces, a partir de la fotografía, de manera crítica y sin reproducir en tal ejercicio la matriz colonial que hizo posible la toma de la imagen?

Comment se fait-il que le Canada puisse être représenté par des totems indiens à Walt Disney World ou par un inukshuk aux Jeux olympiques de Vancouver ? Il y a indéniablement « quelque chose » d’indien à propos du Canada. Pour survivre moralement et politiquement à son héritage colonial, l’État a besoin de se faire lui-même partiellement indien. Il lui faut ce je-ne-sais-quoi, cette « chose indienne », nommée sans l’être complètement, signalée sans jamais être définie. Cette indianité, bien qu’elle soit interpellée par la présence d’Autochtones, n’a plus besoin d’eux pour se manifester en tant que réalité. Historiquement, le cinéma constitue l’un des lieux privilégiés où se manifeste cette « chose indienne » prise dans les rets de l’imagination libérale et coloniale qui alimente les velléités de souveraineté du Québec et du Canada. Dans la mesure où une telle capture constitue l’un des principaux exercices politiques de l’État, le présent ouvrage avance une conception de la décolonisation qui ne relève plus de la révélation d’une réalité de l’Indien, cachée derrière sa représentation et ses distorsions filmiques, prête à resurgir au profit d’une « reconnaissance » par et dans l’État souverain. Il s’agit plutôt de comprendre le rapport colonial comme une lutte multipartite entre Canadiens, Québécois et Autochtones, avec pour enjeu de s’emparer du pouvoir exclusif de désigner et de représenter ce (et ceux) que cette « chose indienne » pourra (ou non) signifier et autoriser dans le voisinage colonial du souverain.