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In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content: As I sit writing in my kitchen while the forces of the U.S. military state are brought to bear on thousands of Standing Rock water stewards and land protectors and their allies in Cannonball, North Dakota, I consider how this sail special issue on digital Indigenous studies not only represents a collection of essays about the critical work Indigenous women are performing in their various digital projects but also illustrates that these online “Indigenous territories” (Hearne), crafted on social media platforms such as Twitter and Facebook, save lives. Every single day since the protectors first gathered to oppose the proposed 1,170-mile Dakota Access pipeline (a project that would potentially contaminate the Missouri watershed and the Ogallala Aquifer and desecrate Dakota sacred sites), digital independent and social media have constantly covered the story. At least 1.3 million Facebook users checked in virtually at Oceti Sakowin and other Indigenous camps and communities to ensure that support presence is recognized, while the world monitors the presence of the military and police force gathering at the construction site to curb further violence. The Standing Rock gathering offers hope to networked Indigenous youth, a demographic between three and ten times as likely to commit suicide than the national average peer rate. The Nodapl action in the Indigenous imaginary is an invitation to stand at the front lines of a global movement to protect water and land resources for all living beings on this planet and to draw attention to and support those whose lives and ways of being are in peril through overt military action and consequential environmental destruction. It is also an occasion, in the words of Jolene Rickard, “to invest in the apparatus of the imagination” (Bernardin). One need only look at the online art, handwritten signs, and logos representing #nodapl, #standingrock, [End Page 172] #waterislife, and #rezpectourwater to see the ways in which Indigenous artists are creatively and powerfully envisioning this movement, most often immersed with work that features strong images of Native women and girls, the community backbone and life force. Or we need only view digital videos like computer animator and artist Joseph Erb’s black-and-red graphic history of Standing Rock, “Mni Wiconi / Water Is Life” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kXoy5lzpjiM), and first-person game platforms like Elizabeth LaPensée’s Thunderbird Strike, which extend the conversations at Standing Rock to the struggles over Enbridge’s Alberta tar sands pipeline and fracking practices as players work to undo and prevent further environmental degradation. Following Idle No More’s digital and geospatial (re)articulation of Indigenous territories, we are now living and loving and hoping in this historic moment as new ways of relating to one another and living in deep connection with the land and all its forms of life are being physiologically, intellectually, and spiritually forged at the geospatial confluence of the Missouri and Cannonball Rivers. They are being forged as well through the confluences of digital rivers on our electronic devices and in our online conversations about the beauty and devastation of the events that are unfolding in Standing Rock. Susan Bernardin’s essay in this issue on Heid E. Erdrich’s “Pre-Occupied” considers the meaning of rivers to Native peoples and contends that images of waterways, particularly the Mississippi, are mobilized “to make visible the continuing claims of this and other imperiled riverine systems.” In her introduction, Joanna Hearne asks us, “How might such an intersection of digital and Indigenous specificities take place in a way that is ‘native to the device’; that is, how might Indigenous specificity be embedded in shared platforms that are therefore central to all of our digital lives?” The essays in this special issue respond to this question by theorizing digital media in fresh and innovative ways. Many of us teach digital humanities courses or classes with strong digital media content, but we lack the language for critically engaging this new field on its own terms as it intersects, extends, and radically reconceptualizes more familiar research areas such as cinema studies, Indigenous / Native American studies, communication, literature, art, and history.

Migrating the Black Body explores how visual media from painting to photography, from global independent cinema to Hollywood movies, from posters and broadsides to digital media, from public art to graphic novels has shaped diasporic imaginings of the individual and collective self. How is the travel of black bodies reflected in reciprocal black images? How is blackness forged and remade through diasporic visual encounters and reimagined through revisitations with the past? And how do visual technologies structure the way we see African subjects and subjectivity? This volume brings together an international group of scholars and artists who explore these questions in visual culture for the historical and contemporary African diaspora. Examining subjects as wide-ranging as the appearance of blackamoors in Russian and Swedish imperialist paintings, the appropriation of African and African American liberation images for Chinese Communist Party propaganda, and the role of YouTube videos in establishing connections between Ghana and its international diaspora, these essays investigate routes of migration, both voluntary and forced, stretching across space, place, and time.

Pedro Almodóvar is an internationally acclaimed Spanish director. The national and international fascination over Almodóvar's cinema lies in his ability to reflect the problems of contemporary society, his lucidity in combining the urban and the rural, his ability to express the frustrations of modern man, as well as his freshness and spontaneity. Although the vast majority of studies on this Spanish director have focused on women and the gay world, his films are crowded with many types and archetypes of heterosexual men. This groundbreaking edited volume studies the men in the cinema of Almodóvar from a broad yet comprehensive and complementary perspective. Each chapter of All About Almodóvar's Men methodically dissects these male characters—their misery and their greatness, their frustrations and their desires—offering a kaleidoscopic view of man that goes beyond the narrow framework in which many studies have locked the rich cinema of Almodóvar.

The in-depth, diverse, and accessible essays in Queer Game Studies use queerness to challenge the ideas that have dominated gaming discussions. This volume reveals the capacious albeit underappreciated communities that are making, playing, and studying queer games, demonstrating the centrality of LGBTQ issues to the gamer world and establishing an alternative lens for examining this increasingly important culture.

Game studies has been an understudied area within the emerging field of digital media and religion. Video games can reflect, reject, or reconfigure traditionally held religious ideas and often serve as sources for the production of religious practices and ideas. This collection of essays presents a broad range of influential methodological approaches that illuminate how and why video games shape the construction of religious beliefs and practices, and also situates such research within the wider discourse on how digital media intersect with the religious worlds of the 21st century. Each chapter discusses a particular method and its theoretical background, summarizes existing research, and provides a practical case study that demonstrates how the method specifically contributes to the wider study of video games and religion. Featuring contributions from leading and emerging scholars of religion and digital gaming, this book will be an invaluable resource for scholars in the areas of digital culture, new media, religious studies, and game studies across a wide range of disciplines.

Interesting and challenging Hollywood-style films that centre on sexually transgressive characters are not easy to script. Many writers fail as a result of an over-valuation of image at the expense of psychologically complex and challenging subjectivity. A hook for exploring the nature of this phenomenon lies in the notion of ‘involving and disturbing’, with a focus on how films might represent it and how audiences might perceive it, and with attention paid to how characters might be constructed. The chapter expands on how this notion of audience engagement might engage with screenwriting as a design function, aimed to construct characters in visual terms yet through words rather than pictures. In addressing certain epistemic limitations to writing character complexity, an alternative epistemic framing for ‘perverse’ characters is considered in terms of characterological ‘is-ness’, philosophical constitution and behaviours and actions.

"This book considers the changing nature of intimacy in contemporary China, providing a unique case study of romantic subjectivities in young people in the world's fastest growing economy. Since the implementation of reform in 1978, the economic and socio-cultural environment of modern China has experienced a dramatic transformation under the influence of urbanization and globalization, facilitating more individualized identity among Chinese youth. This book bridges the gap between an emergent emphasis on individualisation and the country's traditional norms and values. It focuses on young people's understandings of various forms of relationships such as cohabitation, extramarital relationships and multiple relationships, suggesting a challenge to traditional familial values and an increasingly diversified understanding of the concepts of love and romance. By examining the formation of relationships among 21st century Chinese youth, notably through the lens of popular Chinese TV dating programs, this book considers how dating and relationships mirror China's changing societal structure and examines social and cultural transformations in Chinese society."

Este trabajo se propone comprender la incidencia de las relaciones de poder que ciertas representaciones temporales acerca de grupos indígenas pueden ejercer en nuestra comprensión pasada y actual. Diversas imágenes reprodujeron ideas de indígenas que, aunque estuvieran vivos, mostraban una cultura asimilada a un pasado de amplias dimensiones. Por lo tanto, para comprender el proceso de invisibilización de la diversidad indígena en la cultura nacional, es relevante considerar los mecanismos de montaje discursivo —visuales y textuales—, vinculados con las nociones temporales de indios viviendo en un supuesto tiempo remoto. Atendiendo a ello, se analizan los procesos de montaje, desde la producción de las fotografías hasta la edición y presentación de imágenes, tanto en la prensa como en postales, publicaciones científicas y de divulgación, para ver cómo a veces pequeños cambios de encuadre, contraste, retoque o selección pueden incidir en la construcción de diversas historias, en la comprensión y en los sentidos construidos y en pugna.

Before the liberalisation of television in 2000, Pakistan had one terrestrial channel.The Pakistan Television Corporation (commonly known as PTV) had been the statebroadcaster since 1964 and thus PTV content reflected the policies of differentgovernments. Liberal governments relaxed control over gender on screen – womencould be seen without dupatta – while religiously inclined governments brought intheir own agendas with restrictions on appearance of women, such as the dupattapolicy (see, for example, Ali, 1986; Suleman, 1990; Kothari, 2005; Nasir, 2012).1 In2002, the Independent Media Corporation launched its channel Geo News fromPakistan, followed by other networks, marking the formal launch of the policy ofliberalisation of media on television. Presently, five media groups have control of thePakistani media industry, including electronic and print media. These are Inde-pendent Media Corporation, Pakistan Herald Publications, ARY Group, WaqtGroup and Lakson Group (see for example Proffitt and Rasul, 2013). The broad-casting industry in Pakistan follows an advertiser-driven model that is run through asystem of ratings. At the time of the fieldwork reported here (October-April 2011),Media Logic and Gallup were the two operators that determined the popular tastesof consumers through ratings.2

This poignant assertionby acclaimed actor Viola Davis, star of the series How to GetAway with Murder (ABC, 2014-), during her Emmy acceptance speechwent viral and becamethe flashpoint for heated discussion about contemporary television’s representational practices. The statement draws attention to questions of taste, what is acknowledgedby the industry and audiences as quality television and the political economy of thecontemporary industry. This moment in television history, with its attendant socialmedia afterlife, captures the key elements I wish to explore in this chapter: represen-tations of women of colour, production practices and viewer responses. As Viola Davisnotes in the quote above, the contemporary US television landscape offers limited rolesfor people of colour. The few shows starring people of colour have become the focus ofintense social media exchanges. In this chapter, I will explore how televisual womenof colour have become a key site from which viewers assert a possessive investmentof racialised identity. By focusing on social media responses, I delineate the ways inwhich viewers invest symbolic and literal ownership over these representations.Through such a multifaceted examination, this essay aims to elaborate how women ofcolour are accommodated within the concept of television for women, a term inter-rogated in this volume. In addition, I illustrate the ideological instability of the term‘women of colour’ and the capaciousness of the concept ‘television for women’.

What are the implications of freedom and agency when a player exercises agency to prevent another player or a non-player character fromacting freely? Such a scenario, taken to an extreme, would be that of slavery and in turn, would raise questions about the nature of freedom itself. Video games have recently begun to address questions of slavery in earnest although academic discussions on games have not yet caught up: the presence of slavers in Fallout 3, the portrayal of racism in Bioshock Infinite (Irrational Games 2014) and the direct depiction of the Caribbean slave trade in Assassin’s Creed: Freedom Cry (Ubisoft 2013) are extremely appropriate cases in point. This article compares the representation of slavery in video games to that of slave narratives in earlier media in order to examine how effectively digital games are able to convey the horrors of slavery as a human condition and what they can teach about the notion of human freedom and agency per se.

Este texto reflexiona sobre los discursos e imaginarios de género y sexualidad que se producen dentro del campo del videoarte realizado en Ecuador entre 1998 y 2013. Desde finales de los noventa, hay una presencia de videos que abordan temáticas de cuerpo, política, deseo, violencia, roles e identidad que posicionan nuevos temáticas, lugares de enunciación y sujetos través de las tecnologías de video. A través de un conjunto de obras emblemáticas, el texto analiza los discursos y las estrategias visuales con las cuales se construyen feminidades, masculinidades y diversidades sexuales en el contexto contemporáneo. Está producción plantea un relato alternativo frente a las tendencias dominantes dentro de la historia del arte ecuatoriano. Muestra las nuevas sensibilidades y sujetos que se afirman a través del uso de tecnologías de video. This paper reflects on the speeches and imaginary of gender and sexuality that occur within the field of video art made in Ecuador between 1998 and 2013. Since the late nineties, there is a presence of vid-eos that address issues of body politics, desire, vio-lence, roles and identity that position new themes, places and subjects of enunciation through video technologies. Through a set of emblematic works, the text analyzes the speeches and visual strategies which femininity, masculinity and sexual diversities are built in a contemporary context. This production presents an alternative story against the dominant trends in the history of Ecuadorian art. It shows the new sensibilities and subjects that are affirmed through the use of video technology.

Cet article propose une étude comparative de la première saison de la série policière québécoise primée 19-2 (Ici Radio-Canada Télé, 2011-2015) et de son adaptation canadienne anglophone (Bravo, 2014-). L’étude des deux séries 19-2 permet d’investiguer, à travers un exemple récent, le processus d’adaptation télévisuelle au Canada. Les similitudes narratives et esthétiques entre les deux séries sont tout d’abord brièvement présentées: l’histoire et les arcs narratifs sont quasi identiques, la plupart des personnages conservent les mêmes noms, sans compter que les stratégies narratives marquantes de cette œuvres ont été pour la plupart reproduites dans la nouvelle version. Ces deux œuvres, appréhendées en tant que « performances » distinctes, sont ensuite analysées à travers le prisme du genre. L’analyse de quelques scènes clés et arcs narratifs permettra de démontrer que ces deux productions sont très différentes en ce qui concerne leur construction narrative de masculinités télévisées – particulièrement leur négociation différentielle de conceptions hégémoniques des identités – et leur représentation des rapports hommes-femmes.

Within Spoken Soul, better known as Ebonics, the term down can be used as an adjective to describe a person that willingly yields a tremendous amount of support to another person. The “Down Ass Bitch” (DAB) is a controlling image of the black woman that calls for her unwavering support of the black man, even when it is pernicious to her best interest. In fact, we can see this in the black community on many levels: (1) from black women faithfully waiting years for men to be released from prison; (2) hiding domestic abuse or rape at the hands of black men for the sake of protecting the race; or (3) sexually exploiting our bodies for the financial benefit of black men. However, what is most interesting about this particular stereotype of the black woman being “down” for her man is that this is not an expectation that is asked of the black man. It is this author’s contention that the “Down Ass Bitch” is obsequious to the powers of black men— though she is portrayed as being strong, aggressive, and assertive. Essentially, the “Down Ass Bitch,” a highly celebrated image in the black community, is the black version of the submissive white woman, the Eurocentric construction of the idealized womanhood. Various controlling images of black womanhood— such as the mammy, the jezebel, and the welfare queen— served as justifications for the oppression of black women and have been discussed significantly by scholars.

In this chapter we analyze three reality TV (RTV) shows whose main characters do not fit the old movie stereotypes of dark-skinned maternal Mammies, bossy, brown Sapphires or light-skinned sexy Jezebels. Many RTV shows with black cast members are falling back on such stereotypical representations. In contrast, the female characters we analyze are smart and sophisticated, and they live in multi-racial environments. Hence, the primary mediarelated question we address concerns how one slice of black motherhood is represented. The social question we address concerns the extent to which the character presentations actually point to social progress, with diverse symbols and meaning making of real life, or are they as artificial and stereotypical— perhaps in new ways— as the old portrayals?

In recent years, scripted television has been joined by a more “realistic” look into peoples’ lives— reality television. Reality television claims to give viewers an unmediated glimpse into how real people live. The “realness” of reality television invokes controversy by providing a voyeuristic and potentially exploitive look into people’s lives. As the genre has matured, shows that offer insight into communities that are systemically underrepresented have become common. Indicative of this trend are shows that depict the lives of African Americans and opportunistically exploit representations of black culture for drama, ratings, and profit. One network that has taken considerable advantage of this is VH1— first, with the success of Flavor of Love and its spinoffs, then more recently with shows such as Basketball Wives and Love and Hip Hop. In fact, the excessive amount of fighting among Black women on Basketball Wives led to a boycott of the show, which prompted creator Shaunie O’Neal to promise less violence in its next season. Akin to Basketball Wives , Love and Hip Hop Atlanta exemplifies the trend of exploiting black culture. As members of the black community, we find ourselves both intrigued and troubled by the implications of the show. Capturing the essence of our paradoxical interpretation of Love and Hip Hop Atlanta — as one of many reality television shows that simultaneously reproduces and challenges negative stereotypes about blackness— are contradictory headlines such as “The 21 Most Ratchet Women of Black Reality TV,” “How Reality TV has Changed our Daughters,” and “Wealthy Reality Stars Humanize Black Women.”

Jones’ comments reflect a general consensus among TV critics and viewers that: 1) the black women who command the most attention on reality television tend to portray stereotypical, Sapphire-like characters; 2) as audiences consume such portrayals, there is a consistent line of argument from producers that insists “pitting [black women] against each other” is expected or “what the people want;” and 3) black female reality TV stars are willing to indulge the Sapphire fantasy if it means they will be able to further a personal and/or professional agenda. These are important themes to interrogate, especially given the history of mass mediated representations of black Americans, as well as the present-day “evolution” of black characters and other characters of color on unscripted and scripted American television. However, because attention is primarily focused on arguably “negative” portrayals, there has not been much critical analysis of “alternative” or more nuanced portrayals of black women in the televisual sphere. This chapter represents an attempt to fill in some of that blank space by focusing attention on an underexplored and relatively new consortium of reality television programming that features black women who are defined by their roles as mothers and entrepreneurs.

The display of spirituality, faith and religion is not a new phenomenon among black women in the United States, nor is it new to the world of media. Africans came to the Americas with their own sense of spirituality and religion, and the awareness of a higher being became the mortar that bound the community together during the trials of enslavement and subsequent oppression. Not surprisingly, this legacy of worship continues to provide solace and strength, with black women at the helm.

It is near impossible to have a discussion of black women in reality television without mentioning the infamous Angry Black Woman (ABW). In fact, some critiques have argued reality television is damaging for black women since many shows focus heavily on this character. 1 This stereotypical characterization of black women is long-standing, due largely to its constant inclusion in media messages. As noted in chapter one, audiences were first officially introduced to her in the 1920s as Sapphire Stevens from the Amos ‘n’ Andy Show ; and her character continued to resurface throughout the years, across several different genres. Despite the many time periods through which this image has traveled, the key characteristic of the Sapphire— her unexplainable anger and aggression— seem to resonate in many modern day images of black women.

Reality programs rose to prominence based on claims that the shows depicted “real life,” but in recent years many shows have come under fire for being anything but “reality.” Orbe (1998) suggests viewers are drawn to such programs based on the notion that they show “real people in everyday interactions,” and there is a certain level of “unpredictability that comes with reality.” However, what has become predictable and potentially problematic, over the past two decades, are the negative stereotypes associated with African American women on these programs. This skewing of reality is particularly significant when we consider the limited opportunities these shows provide viewers to witness the many facets of black womanhood. From the head-bobbing and finger-waving of Alicia Calaway on season two of the hit show Survivor to the on-and-off-air mudslinging between Kenya Moore and NeNe Leakes of Real Housewives of Atlanta fame, black women are portrayed as disloyal, bitchy, lazy, difficult to work with, and a threat to others.