Blue Pencil Research Articles

Футболка Стэнли Ковальского, метатеатр, интермедийность и гротеск: монографии о Теннесси Уильямсе

Published in 2021, both monographs on Tennessee Williams — Stanley Gontarski’s Tennessee Williams, T-shirt Modernism and the Refashionings of Theater and Laura Michiels’ The Metatheater of Tennessee Williams: Tracing the Artistic Process Through Seven Plays perform the dual task of offering new perspectives on the playwright’s wellstudied plays and elaborating on the lesser-known material with its non-obvious cultural functions. Researchers show the complexity of Williams’ late oeuvre, demonstrating how his plays of the 1960s and early 1980s continue theatrical experiments of the second half of the 20th century. Developing the themes of his earlier period (theatricality of life and experience, the vulnerability of beauty and artistry, the fragility of memory, and the conflicts between the strong and the weak), Williams has enriched both poetic and naturalistic theater styles through absurdist aesthetics, his use of stylistic excess and an emphasis on metatheatre — spectacles about spectacles. Gontarski's book discusses Williams' influence on subsequent popular culture and its representation of the images of masculinity. Gontarski shows how Williams' success across the Atlantic depended on censorship (“The Lord Chamberlain’s Blue Pencil” being an intriguing part of Chapter 2) or greater stage freedom (Sweden). Late plays (In the Bar of a Tokyo Hotel, Two-Character Play, Clothes for a Summer Hotel) allow the author to take a closer look at Williams’ absurdist poetics and the intriguing process of “becoming Beckett,” which the American playwright reenacts. Laura Michiels explores different types of metatheater in Williams’s work: “mythical” (Orpheus Descending), “esoteric” (Two-Character Play), “marauding” (Clothes for the Summer Hotel), “multiplying" and “negotiating” (Sweet Bird of Youth, Something Cloudy, Something Clear). Michiels shows how Williams' dramas open up to issues important for contemporary interdisciplinary studies: the audience’s emotional and affective responsiveness, the work of memory, and intermedial dialogism. Michiels’ book offers a wide range of tools for unpacking metatheatricality of the 20th-century drama.

Redukcja utrzymująca skuteczność na tle projektu Księgi Pierwszej Kodeksu cywilnego

The article discusses the concept of the so-called “reducing upholding enforcement” (validity) of juridical acts in the light of the draft of Book One of the new Polish civil code (published in 2008). The draft contained a dedicated legal basis allowing courts to reduce the terms (i.e. contractual rights or obligations) of a contract which is invalid – it is so called “reducing upholding effectiveness”. In the article an analysis has been carried out of the most important theoretical and practical backgrounds. The main concern is about the scope of the judge’s power to reduce or even revise the term of the juridical act (contract) and its limit. The comparative context of reduction has also been presented. Reduction is one of the ways to avoid nullity of the juridical act, especially contract clause and is one form of partial invalidity. The main function of it is to protect parties from the disadvantageous and sometimes unexpected effects of invalidity, especially those effects for a party protected by the sanction of nullity (“weaker party”). Reducing the scope of the void term leads to the legal effects of a juridical act remaining in force to the extent allowed and valid in the realm of private law (for instance to cut out the part infringing mandatory rules). This paper includes also comparative remarks on the admissibility of such a reduction in chosen legal systems ius civile and common law tradition. Amongst ius civile systems the doctrine of reduction is widely accepted in German law (called Geltungserhaltende Reduktion). In the common law tradition, reduction is rather inadmissible as a principle. There is a restrictive approach for partial invalidity within the doctrine of severance in contract law. Even though the severability of the contract is only partly invalid, it is widely recognised that reducing invalid contractual terms is hard to accept because of the blue pencil rule and prohibition of such interventions in contractual matters. The article discusses exceptions which can be found in some countries (especially New Zealand or Québec law on illegal contracts). The fundamental problem arising in the area of reducing upholding effectiveness is connected with the fine line between reducing the scope of a void term as a part of the juridical act and revising the matter hidden behind the invalid part of the juridical act. In other words, with the limitations of the courts’ discretion in rewriting an invalid clause. Effects which are intended by reducing the scope of a void term can be achieved in other legal ways. The main alternative is the concept where the sanction of invalidity is established by the judge – in a structured discretion form - which was proposed in the model rules of The Principles of European Contract Law and Draft Common Frame of Reference. That approach reveals some aspects of a structured discretion useful to propose some amendments for the Polish normative basis of reduction. These are statutory factors which are supposed to be taken into consideration when a court exercises its power to sever, reduce or revise an invalid clause or obligation. One basic factor should prevent the so called innocent party from suffering injustice flowing from making a part of a juridical act null and void. This could be done by refusing partial invalidity and instead reducing or revising the invalid part (especially contract term). A version of a legal ground presented by the draft of Book One of the new Polish civil code to reduce the scope of the juridical act clause should be accepted as a step forward in the promotion of justice and efficiency of private law regulations. Implementation of that legal doctrine is supposed to be more detailed and include some aspects of structured discretion i.e. factors limiting the courts’ power to reduce or revise a void clause.

Blue Pencil


 
 
 This article aims at analyzing and discussing the proposed objectives and outcomes of a transmedia project that was run in partnership with CICANT/Universidade Lusófona, in Lisbon, Portugal, and the Portuguese media group Impresa, as part of a European Commission-funded project named CIAKL-Cinema and Industry Alliance for Knowledge and Learning. The Blue Pencil project had as its main objective the development of a transmedia narrative that grouped different platforms and technologies, which included intersections inside the narrative within the genres of entertainment and education. Taking as its central theme the censorship in Portugal during the Estado Novo, the narrative extends into a short fiction film, a documentary, a site with archive material, an online game that challenges writing on freedom of the press, an online store, and a school program, in partnership with the network of school libraries, to launch the debate of censorship in schools.
 
 

Response by Patricia H. Kelley for the presentation of the 2020 Paleontological Society Pojeta Award

Chris Maples tutored me on how to be a technical editor of the Journal of Paleontology (back when we had to circle every hyphen and underline capital letters in blue pencil), which started me on a total of 35 years and counting on journal editorial boards. [...]I thank my family—my parents, who encouraged my career (even though my mom wondered why I didn't stay home to raise my babies);my loyal brother David, who still texts me many times a day;my devoted husband Jonathan, who shared household and childrearing duties to enable my career;and my precious children Timothy and Katherine, of whom I am so proud, and who in turn are proud of me. With no opportunity to interact with others beyond family, four-year-old Owen has been accosting strangers on hiking trails and boasting “My Grandmomoo is a paleontologist!” Indeed, I am proud to be a paleontologist and gratified to have had the opportunity to serve my colleagues, my science, and my Society.

Что такое философия? Г.Г. Шпет

Abstract of the report What is philosophy? is reconstructed and published ac­cording to a handwritten draft stored in the NIOR RGB (F. 718. K. 6. Ed. hr. 2. Shpet G.G. “What is philosophy” – outline of a lecture or report in three ver­sions [up to 1922]. Draft autograph in ink and pencil). Three versions of the abstract of the report have survived (on the backs, in cursive writing by Shpet, the debate on the report is also written). The version presented here – the third – is written in black ink (fol. 13–17). It contains three layers of edit­ing: adding and correcting with a simple pencil (in the margins), lilac pencil (correcting pagination), red (adding in the margins), and underlining in red and blue pencil (this way of underlining is peculiar to Shpet, who thus marked all his oral presentations; these stresses are not reproduced due to their multiplic­ity). The text is given in the last edition with the introduction of corrections made by Shpet’s hand using different pencils. Abbreviations and individual signs from Shpet’s cursive writing are disclosed without special instructions. All notes belong to the publisher. Italicized words and phrases underlined by Shpet in black italic and in bold – underlined in black twice. The reconstructed text will be presented in the book “Institute of Scientific Philosophy. Begin­ning” (Moscow: ROSSPEN, in press)

Homem, a terra e o imaginário em O Dia dos Prodígios, de Lídia Jorge

A narrativa portuguesa publicada depois da Revolução de Abril é uma narrativa de escrita em liberdade que supera os obstáculos a que, anteriormente, a censura a havia votado. Muitos autores, antes sob a ameaça do lápis azul, voltam ao processo criativo, questionando, refletindo e avivando a memória recente do país. Outros, ainda que não tendo publicado antes da Revolução, nascem como autores depois desta, servindo, então, a escrita como um processo de exumação de memórias recentes e de reflexão crítica sobre o passado ditatorial. Partindo da experiência criativa proporcionada pela Revolução de Abril (Lourenço, 1994; Lima, 1996; Reis, 2004), propomo-nos acompanhar o processo de representação literária que Lídia Jorge, na sua obra O Dia dos Prodígios, realiza do espaço rural português do sul, antes e depois da Revolução, assim como do processo estético criativo que, recorrendo a modalizações ficcionais da magia e do maravilhoso, alegoriza a realidade portuguesa contemporânea do tempo de escrita da narrativa.

Witches of Brooklyn by Sophie Escabasse

Reviewed by: Witches of Brooklyn by Sophie Escabasse April Spisak Escabasse, Sophie Witches of Brooklyn; written and illus. by Sophie Escabasse. Random House Graphic, 2020 [240p] (Witches of Brooklyn) Library ed. ISBN 9780593119280 $23.99 Trade ed. ISBN 9780593125281 $20.99 Paper ed. ISBN 9780593119273 $12.99 E-book ed. ISBN 9780593119297 $8.99 Reviewed from digital galleys R Gr. 4-7 Her mom has recently died, but soon Effie is right at home with her two elderly aunts, who are absolutely more than the herbalists they claim to be. Indeed, these are witchy women with impressive powers, and Effie herself might have some awakening abilities. Understanding and harnessing her strengths is about far more than magic, however, and that's the gentle nudge of this graphic novel: whatever one's talents, it's important to stay humble about them and use them for good. A note describes the author/illustrator's use of purple and blue pencils as sketching tools (with digital inking and coloring), and those shades are effective in evoking the mystery of a curious home with untold secrets that will help heal this emotionally bruised girl. The aunts have clearly been partners for a long time, and it's a cozy relationship with room for a child who desperately needs family, friends, and home. It may all slot in a bit too cleanly that she instantly meets two terrific friends, discovers she has magical powers and loving, powerful aunts, and ultimately saves a spoiled celebrity from herself, but the smooth path allows for a focus on growth and change rather than struggle, and a kiddo like Effie could use some ease. An anticipated sequel will likely be welcomed by fantasy and graphic novel fans eager to see what adventures await the young witch. Copyright © 2020 The Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois

Directing O'Neill: Mourning Becomes Electra, Long Day's Journey Into Night, Desire Under the Elms, Days Without End

Directing O'Neill: <i>Mourning Becomes Electra, Long Day's Journey Into Night, Desire Under the Elms, Days Without End</i>

An Argument for Restricting the Blue Pencil Doctrine

When faced with an unreasonable noncompetition agreement, a court faces a choice. In some states, a court may simply refuse to enforce such an agreement. In other states, however, a court may use a legal doctrine called the blue pencil doctrine. Under the blue pencil doctrine, courts are permitted to cross out overbroad provisions that make a noncompetition agreement unenforceable. The blue pencil doctrine gives courts the authority to either (1) strike unreasonable clauses from a noncompetition agreement, leaving the rest to be enforced or (2) modify the agreement to reflect the terms that the parties could have—and probably should have—agreed to. In recent years, a number of courts have criticized the continued use of the blue pencil doctrine, noting that it incentivizes employer overreach. In 2015 and 2016, two state Supreme Courts explicitly rejected the use of the doctrine. These and other courts have noted the potential for harm to employees, employers, and the judicial system as a whole. Despite this critique, however, the doctrine survives, buoyed by courts eager to rescue employers from their overzealous drafting. Even worse, some state legislatures mandate the use of the blue pencil doctrine. In these states, legislatures have proved willing to encroach on judicial independence and discretion. These legislatures require courts to modify unreasonable agreements so as to make them reasonable. As I will discuss below, the blue pencil doctrine harms employees, employers, and ultimately, society as a whole. Use of the blue pencil doctrine upsets a balance in the system. Courts already use a test to determine enforceability and that balancing test is designed to recognize an employer’s interest in retention, while at the same time, encouraging employers to set reasonable restrictions. Reasonable restrictions prevent unfair competition while protecting employee mobility. Use of the blue pencil doctrine frees employers from the need to make difficult decisions, knowing they may rely on the court system to correct any contracting mistakes. In the first part of this article, I review the peculiar nature of the noncompetition agreement. The noncompetition agreement exists as a unique contractual agreement, one that is subject to requirements that go beyond that of an ordinary employment agreement. Next, I examine the blue pencil doctrine, a legal device that permits a court to disregard the express language of the agreement and modify the terms to make the agreement reasonable. The blue pencil doctrine permits a court to use its equitable powers to impose terms that neither employee nor employer agreed to. In the final section of the paper I review the many reasons that some courts have rejected the use of the blue pencil. I then conclude with the multiple reasons to restrict the use of the blue pencil doctrine.

‘A Heavy Blue Pencil’: The Effect of Government Censorship on Reuters Coverage of the Arab–Israeli Conflict, 1967–73

Government restrictions on reporting war and conflict have been the subject of much public and historic debate in two world wars and ever since. This article explores government press censorship in Egypt, Lebanon, Syria, Jordan and Israel during the late 1960s and early 1970s, in respect of international media coverage of the Arab–Israeli conflict. By examining the work of the Reuters news agency, the important international provider of media information, it assesses the impact on foreign reporting of government prepublication censoring systems and other forms of press restriction. It demonstrates that formal censoring of news became an increasingly hard task due to the availability and incessant development of alternative routes of news transfer. Nevertheless, it also shows that restrictions on press access and news gathering remained effectual, as did the general need to stay on terms with governments, especially in authoritarian states.

Homage to George Core: Essays and Notes in Honor of his Retirement

Homage to George CoreEssays and Notes in Honor of his Retirement Robert Benson (bio) George became the editor of the Sewanee Review in 1973, and from then until the present year his editorial and critical vision has made the oldest continuously published quarterly in the United States also the best. Without changing the magazine’s essential character, he made the Review less deliberately southern, and his introduction of issues devoted to specific themes or subjects has given the Sewanee Review an intellectual coherence unique among literary quarterlies. Editing the Review made it necessary for George to postpone or abandon many of his own scholarly and critical projects, works that we are undoubtedly poorer without. He was in his office hard at his editorial business on weekends and holidays for more than forty years. As an editor George Core was sane and sympathetic. A writer of graceful and precise prose, he had an eye for stylistic blunders and infelicities unmatched in my experience. Even the most sensitive writers profited from George’s suggested revisions and critical advice. The very first time George read something I had written, he returned it and said he liked it, but the typescript had so much blue pencil on it I could hardly read what he said he liked. George has continued to be my best and most demanding editor. For that and for his generous-hearted friendship I will always be grateful. George Core has assured the place of the Sewanee Review in the Republic of Letters, and his critical and editorial wisdom has earned him a prominent and permanent place in the history of American literature. Of his magazine, George once wrote that “over its long life the Sewanee Review has often been nurtured by blind good luck.” George Core’s tenure as editor may be the best luck this venerable quarterly has ever had. [End Page 533] CHRISTIAN WIMAN The first time I ever heard from George Core—by letter, of course; typed on Sewanee Review stationary, of course—I was living alone in a cabin on a ranch in south Texas trying to finish a long poem. I was somewhere in my twenties, somewhere in south Texas, somewhere just south of sanity. The poet W. S. Di Piero had made the introduction because he knew I was trying to write critical prose, and he had been helped by Mr. Core when he was young. I had sent, by way of introduction, a bunch of book reviews I had been writing for newspapers, which were so bristly, balking, and snarling they must have been something like the monster books in Harry Potter that literally bare their fangs and try to eat their readers. Mr. Core saw right through them, and noticed the grain of good that was in them, and promptly wrote back to give me an assignment on—as I recall—Renaissance poets. He didn’t seek credentials or impose restrictions. He didn’t ask what I knew about Renaissance poets and try to guide the assignment to some safe shoal. He just read what I sent and said, basically, Go. And then kept saying it. There is no overstating the affection and gratitude we feel for someone who trusts our work before we have come to do so ourselves, someone who leads us to trust our more eccentric impulses—at least when those impulses have turned out to be, as they have in my own case, the main current of the work. I will always be grateful to George Core for giving me room and respect at a crucial time, and for reminding me again and again what a respectable literary life—that there might be such a thing!—might look like. PHILLIP PAROTTI If debts are to be wholly calculated in terms of money, I can never afford to repay so much as a portion that I owe to George Core, first for the generous, gifted, and expert editorial attention he has always given my work but most of all for the warm and doubly generous friendship that he has always extended to me. We have never met. Instead...

The Censorship of British Drama 1900–1968, Volume Two: 1933–1952 by Steve Nicholson, and: The Censorship of British Drama 1900–1968, Volume Three: the Fifties by Steve Nicholson, and: The Censorship of British Drama 1900–1968, Volume Four: the Sixties by Steve Nicholson

Reviewed by: The Censorship of British Drama 1900–1968, Volume Two: 1933–1952 by Steve Nicholson, and: The Censorship of British Drama 1900–1968, Volume Three: the Fifties by Steve Nicholson, and: The Censorship of British Drama 1900–1968, Volume Four: the Sixties by Steve Nicholson Melissa Dana Gibson The Censorship of British Drama 1900–1968, Volume Two: 1933–1952. By Steve Nicholson. Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2005; pp. 400. The Censorship of British Drama 1900–1968, Volume Three: the Fifties. By Steve Nicholson. Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2011; pp. 288. The Censorship of British Drama 1900–1968, Volume Four: the Sixties. By Steve Nicholson. Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2015; pp. 368.1 Official theatre censorship in England was instituted in 1737 and lasted until 1968. All plays intended for public performance were vetted by readers in the Lord Chamberlain’s offices in St. James Palace. Wielding their blue pencils, readers could demand cuts or changes to dialogue or stage directions; they [End Page 494] could even ban a play outright, although this was a rarity. While negotiations over changes often occurred between the Lord Chamberlain’s officers and theatre managers or playwrights, there was no appeal process; issues of particular controversy were referred to the Lord Chamberlain himself and his decision was final. One unexpected legacy of this centralized bureaucratic system is a huge trove of documents, first made public in 1999, tracing the history of drama censorship in Britain. Since the 2003 publication of the first volume in this series, Steve Nicholson has performed the herculean task of mining the 50,000 files in the British Library and another mountain of information in the Royal Archives at Windsor Castle to provide a comprehensive history of twentieth-century theatre censorship. The thoroughness of his accomplishment is clear in the ballooning size of the series—originally intended for two volumes, it has grown to four (plus another book reprinting primary documents, The Lord Chamberlain Regrets, published by the British Library, which Nicholson coedited with Dominic Shellard and Miriam Handley). The result of this expansion is a telescoping survey: volume 1 covers thirty-two years; volume 2, twenty-one years; and volumes 3–4, only eight years each. Nicholson has impressively shaped a pile of bureaucratic policy memos into an engaging narrative through his clear, lively prose; his text is more accessible, for instance, than the specialist’s Theatre Censorship from Walpole to Wilson by David Thomas, David Carlton, and Anne Etienne, which focuses on the legislative history of censorship. Nicholson also has a keen eye for the telling detail or entertaining quotation: a play that imagined a black US president was allowed only “on the understanding that the ‘United States’ is changed to ‘Utopia’” (3:164); on the issue of sexual perversion in Giraudoux’s Judith: “We must draw the line at a donkey” (3:181). Volume 2 covers the years 1933 to 1952. It is slightly disappointing that, given the political tensions of the era, this volume lacks the spirited jousting between committed playwrights and the Lord Chamberlain’s office that animate volume 1, encompassing the years 1900 to 1932. Instead, Foreign Office policies practically dictated censorship decisions, quashing any debate. In this absence, the most interesting part of the second volume concerns the culture wars of the era, particularly the Lord Chamberlain’s dealings with the Public Morality Council (and fellow travelers like “the terrifyingly named British Women’s Total Abstinence Union” [2:75]). Staffed largely by clergy though also politically well-connected, the council, which lasted through the 1960s, could not be entirely ignored, although the Lord Chamberlain clearly regarded it as a nuisance. Reading their correspondences gives some credence to fears later expressed by theatre producers in the 1960s that the abolition of official state censorship would expose productions to even harsher local censorship bodies: the assessments issued from St. James Palace are certainly more sophisticated and liberal than the narrow-minded, racist, and homophobic letters from the Public Morality Council and its ilk complaining of lax censorship standards. These tensions heat up in volume 3, “The Fifties,” which is anchored by the complicated battle over the policy on representations of homosexuality. Although...

Color Record in Self-Monitoring of Blood Glucose Improves Glycemic Control by Better Self-Management

Color affects emotions, feelings, and behaviors. We hypothesized that color used in self-monitoring of blood glucose (SMBG) is helpful for patients to recognize and act on their glucose levels to improve glycemic control. Here, two color-indication methods, color record (CR) and color display (CD), were independently compared for their effects on glycemic control in less frequently insulin-treated type 2 diabetes. One hundred twenty outpatients were randomly allocated to four groups with 2×2 factorial design: CR or non-CR and CD or non-CD. Blood glucose levels were recorded in red or blue pencil in the CR arm, and a red or blue indicator light on the SMBG meter was lit in the CD arm, under hyperglycemia or hypoglycemia, respectively. The primary end point was difference in glycated hemoglobin (HbA1c) reduction in 24 weeks. Secondary end points were self-management performance change and psychological state change. HbA1c levels at 24 weeks were significantly decreased in the CR arm by -0.28% but were increased by 0.03% in the non-CR arm (P=0.044). In addition, diet and exercise scores were significantly improved in the CR arm compared with the non-CR arm. The exercise score showed significant improvement in the CD arm compared with the non-CD arm but without a significant difference in HbA1c reduction. Changes in psychological states were not altered between the arms. CR has a favorable effect on self-management performance without any influence on psychological stress, resulting in improved glycemic control in type 2 diabetes patients using less frequent insulin injection. Thus, active but not passive usage of color-indication methods by patients is important in successful SMBG.

Calligraphy, Changes, Autonomy

CALLIGRAPHY, CHANGES, AUTONOMY ROBERT MORRIS OMPOSERS IN MY GENERATION don’t often publicly reflect on how much the American composer’s world has changed over the last fifty years.1 Most of the ones I know simply cope and adjust, taking things as they come, rather than stopping to think about how different their daily work was back in the 1960s. Nonetheless, the difference between then and now is stark.2 To explain this difference in detail would take a century of pages, so I’ll follow just one thread that has affected music composition in ways rarely acknowledged by composers in their writings or informal public statements: copying music. This mundane activity, and changes in its practice over the past fifty years, resonates and interconnects with many other presumably more important developments through which I and other composers have lived. When I entered the Eastman School of Music in 1960 as a fledging composition major, I began to learn what it meant to be a “professional ” composer at that time. The curriculum included a special C Calligraphy, Changes, Autonomy 285 course for composers called “Music Calligraphy,” taught by a local music copyist named Litchfield Toland, using the textbook Preparing Music Manuscript by Anthony Donato. The course was designed to introduce composers to music copying using the most current method of the time: a stub pen dipped in jet-black India ink (no other type of ink could be used) on semi-transparent music paper. Using a ruler, we learned to write clefs, notes, rests, bar lines, and words. This was not easy, since the ink could smear (a special problem for a lefthander like me), and the angle of the pen had to be precisely managed to produce different thicknesses of lines; learning to copy even a simple treble clef was a vexing experience.3 Another aspect of the course involved the “correct” ways to lay out score pages and the use of engraver rules to order the position of accidentals, chords, dynamics, and other signs. The paper, which had to be vellum or onionskin (the terms were used interchangeably), was printed on one side with staves; one copied on the other side. If the paper was not uniformly smooth or greasy, one applied fuller’s earth powder to the page. Guidelines for layout could be written in blue pencil, which was transparent in the reproductive process. Corrections could be made with an ink eraser (preferably electric), or by cutting out an offending sign or measure from a page and replacing it with a patch using transparent tape. Example 1 shows two measures from my composition Out and Out (1989) for clarinet and piano, as originally copied in ink on vellum. Once a score had been prepared, the individual pages were then subjected to a blueprint process (which imparted a faint smell of ammonia to the pages) and the copies bound with plastic combs. There were no other methods, since other means of reproduction such as “dittomasters” were too crude, slow, and involved noxious chemicals ; and xerography was still in its infancy.4 No one liked this way of copying music, and several attempts were made to invent music typewriters, one of which was used by some music publishers. Printed scores were only available from publishers who employed professional music engravers to produce the plates for printing. From before 1950 to about 1975, there were many music publishers that printed and distributed contemporary music. They engaged music copyeditors, who would proof scores for errors and infelicities. The publishing houses advertised their products in magazines and via regular mailings to performing groups. They also looked for performance and commission opportunities for their composers, set up live and radio interviews, and arranged for newspaper previews and reviews. Some even published journals promoting classical and modern music. An engraved score was therefore a mark of prestige: having a publisher made you a professional.5 286 Perspectives of New Music EXAMPLE 1: MEASURE 50–51 FROM MORRIS , OUT AND OUT (1989) FOR CLARINET AND PIANO , AS ORIGINALLY COPIED IN INK ON VELLUM Calligraphy, Changes, Autonomy 287 In any event, the copying process took some time to learn and it was never a joy...

Putting the blue pencil away and taking down the name board

This paper, indeed the complete Issue, is a personal indulgence, but one I think I am allowed as my last contribution to Transportation, after 40 Volumes, first as Editor then Editor in Chief; covering the whole of the life of the Journal to date. I open with a history of the Journal, first is its ownership, followed by a record of those who have wielded a blue pencil over its first 40 Volumes and then recognise some of the many others who have contributed to our work, our success, over the Volumes. I next reflect on my experience as Editor in the hope of being able to pass on some of what I have learned to my successors and to others editing like journals, before explaining the rationale for the other papers I have selected for inclusion. Finally, and here is the real indulgence, I express some personal views on transport education, research, policy and planning.

Authors' Moral Rights—And How Editors and Publishers Routinely Abridge Them

I take it as my ethical starting point that no one speaks for anyone else, except with agency. This is if anything at all can properly be termed especially true, for professional authors who customarily-if not always; even Homer nods-say what and only what they mean to say. Yet editors and publishers-who should surely know better-routinely abridge this ethical principle a variety of maneuvers which have the same, contrarian effect: That the author ultimately ends up conveying something other than what and only what he intended to convey. Most of the time the differences are small; sometimes they are egregious.Editors, first. One reason I prefer-generally, not always-to write for journals, rather than magazines or newspapers, is that referees (always) and editors (by- and- large) for the former merely make suggestions. Of course, if enough of the suggestions are not taken, even with good reason, the piece will ordinarily be rejected. An author may on occasion feel aggrieved this, but his moral right to speak for himself has in no way been compromised. Moreover, many such suggestions are very helpful, and result in a stronger, better, and clearer article. But even in this case, it is the author who is charged with reworking and rewording his work so as to take account of the critique. If he does so well-in the eyes of the referees and editor-he will speak for himself, but even better than he would have were he to have gone solo. If not, he will not be permitted to speak at all-at least in that journal. All this is as it should be generally.But the situation with magazines and, more so, newspapers is very different. Editors there take enormous liberties with the words, and therefore inevitably the meaning as well, of their authors, and the titles, as well, are often mangled. All this is normally done without so much as a by your leave.1 One might call this the blue pencil blues.2Publishers, second. First, it is eminently fair that a publisher undertaking the production and dissemination of an author's work should have, at least in fact, an exclusive license for a limited time, and that, upon publication, authors ought to refrain from competing with their own publishers. What is eminently unfair, however, is asking authors to sign what has become a worldwide folly, the Creative Commons (CC, hereinafter) license in most of its versions. Here are some of the problems with that license. If attribution is not required-which is one of the options-plagiarism is inevitably encouraged those who confuse or conflate law with ethics, the legal with the ethical.3 If attribution is not required and derivative works are also allowed-another of the options-then the germ of what might be, on the whole, a better work that the original author would endorse goes uncredited. If attribution is required and derivative works are also allowed, then the original author may be partly saddled a work that, on the whole, he detests, that may, in fact, be the very antithesis of what he believes and, in fact, even directly contrary to the original. (The simplest derivative of a proposition p, after all, is not- p. Another simple derivative is p- and- q, and if the original author believes q false, then he will be none too pleased, because he must also reject the conjoined statement.)4 If commercial use is allowed, still another option, a vague concept that probably cannot be made precise, the original author risks more than someone with better marketing skills than he has making money (that he would not have made anyway), but rather lending legitimacy to compilations of essays, the thrust of which the original author might strongly disavow, save for his own, otherwise untouched essay. (I do support some forms of shopwork, which do rely on the CC license; see Fulda [2009:98 -99; item 5] for a limited discussion.)Now, strictly speaking, a publisher's requirement for a signed CC license violates no one's moral rights; rather, that happens down the line some other author making use of the work, as the CC license is written to be endlessly self- perpetuating. …

Novel sensor for simultaneous determination of K+ and Na+ using Prussian blue pencil graphite electrode

A novel approach for simultaneous determination of K+ and Na+ based on Na+-inhibited and direct K+ intercalation processes at Prussian blue is proposed. The competing processes of Na+-inhibited and direct K+ intercalation were established for the first time using a Prussian blue pencil graphite electrode (PB-PGE) and manipulation of the cyclic voltammetry (CV) scan rate. The pair of cathodic peak potentials result of Na+-inhibited and direct K+ intercalations was used as analytical signals for K+ and Na+ determination via a simultaneous standard addition method. Simultaneous determination of K+ and Na+ was demonstrated in a laboratory prepared sample with satisfactory results, suggesting the proposed approach is amenable for further development as a Prussian blue-based electrochemical method for simultaneous K+ and Na+ determination.

The Fleagle Factor

The Fleagle Factor

‘A worse importation than chewing gum’: American Influences on The Australian Press and Their Limits—The Australian Gallup Poll, 1941–1973

In studies of the Australian press, a wide range of American influences—on news genres, on notions of newsworthiness and presentation, and on the language in which stories are written—has been larg...

The &lt;i&gt;New York Clipper&lt;/i&gt; and Sporting Weeklies of Its Time

New York Clipper, founded in 1853, was not America's first sporting paper. Although it carried a report of a baseball game in its first year of operation, it was not the first paper to do so. It was never all about baseball, or even primarily so. Yet more than any other publication, the Clipper may be said to have transformed a boys' game into the national pastime.Three essential ingredients will facilitate the growth from localized game to national sport. First, gambling. Adults must care about the outcome, and their willingness to place a wager is a measure of their interest. As a game matures, investors and civic boosters may pool their interests to absorb greater risk, placing their bets on the protracted success of an athlete, a club, or a sporting venture. Second, publicity. Regular press coverage is a necessary development to waftthe passion exhibited at a single contest, however it may have been fueled, to those only reading about it afterward. Third, statistics. Whether merely game scores or primitive tabulations, these numerical attachments to prose reports accord a mantle of importance to the matches-an importance like that of trade or transport or government.Before baseball came to dominate the sporting scene in the last quarter of the 19th century, these three elements had previously advanced, with differing levels of success, the interests of other sports: the turf, the ring, sculling, cricket, and blood sports (ratting, baiting, cockfighting, dog fighting). Whether the crowd drawn by the activity was low or genteel, the ingredients and the progression were the same. To place in context how the Clipper advanced the status of baseball, let's examine briefly the sporting papers that paved its way. These were concerned with, variously, hunting, angling, pugilism, pedestrianism (race or distance walking), and most of all horseracing.Despite the nationwide surge of interest during the Jacksonian era in newspapers and magazines touching upon all topics-from politics to religion, from literature to commerce-sporting coverage lagged. Devotees of turf, ring, field, and stream had to await the arrival of the weekly Bell's Life in London (founded in 1822). Baltimorean John Stuart Skinner established, in 1819, American Farmer, the first agricultural journal in this country; for its pages in 1825 he penned the nation's first turf column, The Sporting Olio. Four years later he replaced American Farmer with the monthly American Turf Register and Sporting Magazine, which thus became America's first enduring sporting paper.1According to John Hankins Wallace in Horse of America in His Derivation, History and Development, Skinner sought for his new publication an encyclopedic status:As its name indicated its field, it at once became the authority on sporting events and the receptacle of a great amount of valuable correspondence on the horses of the day, as well as the earlier race horses. Mr. Skinner was industrious in collecting material for his magazine, but unfortunately he published whatever was sent to him relating to the horse, and just as it was sent. If a communication was well written, no difference how many errors of fact it might contain, it never seemed to occur to Mr. Skinner to use his blue pencil. Pedigrees were sent in, amounting to many thousands, during his ownership, with fictitious and untruthful remote extensions, and published without any possibility of tracing the different crosses to a known or responsible source or name.... magazine received less and less attention from its proprietor each succeeding year and finally it was transferred to the Spirit of the Times, of New York, and died after an existence of some fifteen years [Sept. 1829-Dec. 1844].2Skinner's indifference to fact would continue to plague sporting papers, and the sporting sections of dailies, for generations to come, as the standards of self-promotion and humbuggery were more readily met than those of journalism. …