Lone Ranger Research Articles

The Lone Ranger in Rural Education: The Small Rural School Principal and Professional Development

A pressing need on principals and their demands for personal professional development is improving their performance based on evaluation policy standards. State policy standards dictate how principals evaluate teachers and how they are evaluated. Surveying rural principals we investigated the current understanding of state standards and needs for professional development. Rural districts in Utah are remote and isolated. This research highlighted that within Utah rural schools, small school principals have different needs and practices when compared to medium sized rural school principals. Small school principals reported having spent two hours less in collaborating with and mentoring their teachers than did medium school principals. Small school principals also spent less time collaborating with other principals. Based on these results, we recommend that district and state administrators and policy makers target small school principals to provide the needed professional development to assist them in an already isolated and overloaded position.

Mask in the Museum: the impossible gaze and the Indian artifact in Verbinski’s The Lone Ranger

ABSTRACTThis article analyzes the metacinematic structure of Gore Verbinski’s The Lone Ranger and argues that it celebrates a form of camera consciousness that subordinates, rather than liberates the Tonto figure. Anchoring the film’s narrative frame, the diorama of the ‘Noble Savage’ establishes an animation paradigm between a masked white child and a Native American statue that is at odds with aims to subvert the original Ranger narrative. The white child awakens the statue to life, and Verbinski imagines this older philosophical and aesthetic formula as an emerging cinematic process in which the film projector transforms individual film stills into the moving image. With this, the boy’s gaze is more than one perspective among many; it both infuses the moving picture with a vital energy and, within the layers of the narrative, this gaze is focalized in the figure of the Ranger himself as he subdues the wild West and the people therein. Instead of a multiplicity of voices and selves in conversation with each other, Verbinski’s form of camera consciousness thereby constitutes a totalizing celebration of technological modernity that aligns the Ranger’s perspective with the movements of the projector and subordinates the Native American within this pattern of visual correspondences.

63 - Lone Ranger or Pit Crew? Evaluating the Impact of a Team-Based Care Curriculum for Pediatric Residents

63 - Lone Ranger or Pit Crew? Evaluating the Impact of a Team-Based Care Curriculum for Pediatric Residents

Lone Rangers no more: archival cooperation in transition

Archival cooperation has changed over the last few decades. Building on the author’s experience of over 27 years in the archive sector, and on his study and lecturing experiences overseas, the paper focuses on collaboration between archival institutions and sister professions and information management entities in a number of different countries. It explains how archives of small underfunded countries, whose collections nevertheless hold international treasures, can empower their resources through international collaboration. Networks built around specialised themes such as a photographic archives, audio-visual material and the protection of the collective memories of diasporic communities living far from their homeland, are highlighted. Examples of successful new models of collaboration emphasize how archival networking across international borders turns the archivist from a “Lone Ranger” to a member of a large international community, steered by the ICA, guided by ethical and professional principles, an...

Learning from The Lone Ranger

Learning from The Lone Ranger

Selling the Silver Bullet: The Lone Ranger & Transmedia Brand Licensing by Avi Santo (review)

Reviewed by: Selling the Silver Bullet: The Lone Ranger & Transmedia Brand Licensing by Avi Santo Britta Hanson Avi Santo, Selling the Silver Bullet: The Lone Ranger & Transmedia Brand Licensing. University of Texas Austin, 2015. 331pages. ISBN: 978-0-292-77254-0. Selling the Silver Bullet is an engaging and eminently readable account of what on the surface would seem to be a less than scintillating corner of the media landscape: the licensing of a given character brand to ancillary markets. Santo’s way into this rich area of study is The Lone Ranger, the character invented in the early 1930s by an advertising firm for radio, and who over the next 80 years was depicted in everything from linoleum floors to the infamous 2013 film of the same name. Santo’s primary argument is that we should consider licensing as a form of creative labor. He supports this claim by showing how the companies responsible for the Lone Ranger’s licensing played a crucial role in the management of the brand; specifically, how they maintained the consistency of the brand’s identity, facilitated its dissemination, and influenced the understanding of the brand’s meaning through timely, shrewd product deployment. This argument places the book at a fruitful crossroads between traditional media studies discussions of authorship and more communication studies-oriented approaches to brands, ancillary products, and business cultures. Thus, Santo does an admirable job of situating his historically based argument within the current scholarship on transmedia phenomena, which has previously focused almost exclusively on contemporary media. As Santo states, “digital tools are by no means the only nor even the primary way to connect consumers and intensify their investment in a particular brand” (70). He is careful not to let any one of these approaches overwhelm the others, however, instead only engaging with outside scholarship to the extent that it aids his own argument. And while Santo is carving out a new place for licensing in our understanding of the media industries, his consideration of corporate authorship is an excellent way to reframe longstanding debates. An especially focused and thought-provoking section in this regard is his examination of the heated legal battles over The Lone Ranger during the 1940s in chapter four, particularly its owners’ fight for authorial recognition based on its “managerial acumen” rather than its creative labor. The associated 1942 court case allows Santo to delineate the corporate workflow of LRI, the advertising firm responsible for The Lone Ranger, in relation to the brand, and more broadly, the corporate thinking that went into the conception of a purposefully reproducible yet distinct character. The structure of the book in some ways mirrors the rise and fall of the Masked Man himself. The first five of the eight chapters (two-thirds of the book’s length, by page count) focus on The Lone Ranger’s heyday from the 1930s to the 1950s. During this period, the Ranger’s popularity rivaled Superman’s, and Santo not only traces how licensing shaped and buoyed that success, but also the larger lineage of character licensing practices in the American context. These chapters are bolstered by their deep and detailed use of archival records and artifacts. Santo’s wealth of information allows him to focus on only the most choice, compelling examples, and since these chapters cover only 20 years, he is able to tailor his argument closely to that modest duration. The last third of the book – the last three chapters – is less assured. These chapters address the uneasy road of the Lone Ranger from the waning of his popularity in the late 1950s until the present day. It is hard to lay the blame for the problem entirely at Santo’s [End Page 82] feet, as the book must advance through fifty years of more-or-less unremarkable history before it can explore 2013’s The Lone Ranger and all that film has to say about heritage brands. In addition, Santo does not have the same extensive access in this later period to the corporate documents in question, forcing him to approach an already staid era from the outside rather than from within. In order to advance through so many years...

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OBJECTIVES/SPECIFIC AIMS: This report describes the evolution of scientific culture since the NIH/translational science (TS) mandate. The transition of the conduct of science to an increasingly translational model involves 2 dimensions of change. The first dimension consists of change in the structure and process of scientific work, in terms of factors such as funding, administration, application of new knowledge, and so forth. The second dimension consists of change in culture of scientific work. The culture of science is the set of values, assumptions, meanings, and traditions that inform the conduct of science. As part of the comprehensive evaluation of TS at the University of Texas Medical Branch-Galveston, we have monitored the status of the culture of science there through a sociological framework. We focused on the ways the changing culture of science facilitates and/or inhibits creative and effective medical research. We argue that the long-term success of TS is dependent upon the evolution of assumptions, everyday practices, and taken-for-granted ways of conducting research. Culture also provides meanings for who its people are and helps us define who we are to ourselves (ie, self-concept). In terms of the scientific enterprise, self-identity provides the motivation to participate in group activities or to be content with being a “lone ranger” researcher; the orientation to be either a leader or a follower; the security to take creative chances with one’s work or to simply conduct “normal science”; and the sense of esteem for being the best or simply doing one’s job. TS requires a constant “reengineering” of its total enterprise. Consequently, we raised the following research questions: (1) What is the traditional culture of science at UTMB? (2) How has the culture of science at UTMB changed since the introduction of the Clinical and Translational Science Award project? (3) What has been the relationship between the culture of science and the conduct of science at UTMB since CTSA? (4) How have cultural influences on self-concept changed? METHODS/STUDY POPULATION: Data have been collected by means of ongoing 1-on-1 interviews with CTSA participants at all levels; observations of lab and classroom interaction; participation in organizational and planning committees; and other everyday organizational activities. RESULTS/ANTICIPATED RESULTS: Following the grounded theory method of qualitative analysis and discovery, we found 3 stages of cultural change. Stage 1 is Cultural Invasion of the existing culture at UTMB by the implementation of the CTSA project. Stage 2 is Cultural Accommodation by which internal responses to change follow the normal scientific paradigm. Stage 3 is Cultural Expansion by which the organizational and cultural platform for conducting science has expanded regionally, nationally and cross-disciplinarily. DISCUSSION/SIGNIFICANCE OF IMPACT: Whether a distinct fourth stage emerges depends on such factors as funding and programmatic directives from NIH; the tension between research and clinical demands for resources; and the emergence of junior investigators schooled on the principles of TS.

The Lived Experience of Black Nurse Faculty in Predominantly White Schools of Nursing.

This study explored the experiences of Black nurse faculty employed in predominantly White schools of nursing. High attrition rates of this group were noted in previous literature. Understanding their experiences is important to increase nurse diversity. Hermeneutic phenomenology was used to explore the experiences of 15 Black nurse faculty using interviews. Four themes were extracted as the following: cultural norms of the workplace, coping with improper assets, life as a "Lone Ranger," and surviving the workplace environment. The study provided insight to understand the meaning that Black faculty members give to their experiences working in predominantly White schools of nursing. Findings exemplify the need to improve culturally competent work environments and mentoring programs. Results suggest that better communication and proper respect from students, colleagues, and administrators are necessary. The limited research on this topic illustrates that Black nurse faculty remain under investigated; research is necessary to determine effective change strategies.

How to Kill Gra' Coleman and Live to Tell about It: (Vauxhall, NJ, c. 1949)

How to Kill Gra' Coleman and Live to Tell about It(Vauxhall, NJ, c. 1949) Kim Coleman Foote (bio) 1. With her own braids Two pairs of brown fingers fly down Gra' Coleman's head, weaving the long gray strands that dangle to her waist. All that good hair, the two sisters think. Not like theirs. [End Page 126] Click for larger view View full resolution Photo by simpleinsomnia [End Page 127] They wonder how someone so evil could have such nice long hair, but they dare not tug on it or even speak. At least, if they want to live. Ginger and Nancy eye each other, both eager to finish first, even though Gra' Coleman will grant each of them fifty cents for the braiding. It's that brief moment when she seems like the nice grandma on the radio shows or like their other grandma, Lucy Grimes, whom they don't see enough for their liking. That brief moment when she smiles, reaching into the pocket of her housedress for the money. Gra' Coleman tends to reserve smiles for strangers and neighbors, like now on the porch, when she calls a happy Sunday to Mrs. Kazlauskas in her yard across the street. If she were to say "Thank you" for the girls' work, that would complete their fantasy. But just the fact that she lives up to her promise to pay—it's the best they can hope for. Nancy is halfway done, far ahead. Ginger gets caught up in how much the hair looks like cloth when you put it between your eyes and the sun. She imagines hands smaller than hers braiding the millions of threads to make her dress, her bobby socks. She stiffens when Gra' Coleman says, "They better be straight." Gra' Coleman spits out a stream of snuff. Ginger's shoulders rise higher at the ping inside the rusted coffee tin at their feet on the porch. Her fingers shake as she resumes. She wastes precious seconds watching her grandmother chewing. The girl's blank face masks her insides, where she glowers. At nine years old, she's learned to control herself around Gra' Coleman. Control anything that won't drive the woman crazier, like talking back or laughing. Even sneezing. She can brace her whole body and hold everything inside until she grows hot and thinks she'll explode just like those grenades their Uncle Luke said he handled during the war. Nancy, on the other hand, tries to empty her head when she's that close to Gra' Coleman. At that distance, she half believes their grandma can see her hateful thoughts. She pretends she's styling the hair of a big doll, not a real-flesh person. Especially not one who, minutes before they stepped onto the porch for the braiding, smashed their sister Marlene's head against the wall. Bang, bang, bang, like the Lone Ranger's gun. Nancy concentrates on the Lone Ranger to avoid thinking about her family. Her loony family. Whenever she listens to The Lone Ranger on the radio, she imagines the hero to be a big ol' white man—the type they say would lynch a nigger, even an eleven-year-old girl like her all the way up north in New Jersey. He'd be tough enough to stand up to Gra' [End Page 128] Coleman. Not like their daddy, Gra' Coleman's beloved son (but, truth be told, not like most men in Vauxhall, who seem to fear this barely five-foot lady as much as the Coleman kids do). Sometimes, those Indians the Lone Ranger chases have two long braids. They're dressed in what men Indians wear, but when Nancy envisions them turning their heads, they have her grandma's face. She forgets herself and giggles. "What's so goddamn funny?" "Nothin, Gra' Coleman," Nancy and Ginger say in sync. Ginger raises curious eyes to her older sister, who rolls her lips between her teeth to stop any more laughter. As Nancy's fingers near the end of the braid, she remembers the time the Lone Ranger threw a lasso. She sees the circle of it above his head, just...

Outlaw Heroes as Liminal Figures of Film and Television by Rebecca A. Umland

Reviewed by: Outlaw Heroes as Liminal Figures of Film and Television by Rebecca A. Umland Alan Baragona rebecca a. umland, Outlaw Heroes as Liminal Figures of Film and Television. Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland, 2016. Pp. 296. isbn: 978–0–7864–7988–7. $39.95. It is an old-said saw that 'all comparisons are odious.' So Rebecca Umland has waded into somewhat dangerous waters as she seeks to compare Casablanca's Rick Blaine, Shane, Dirty Harry, and Batman, among others, to the medieval knight errant in general and to Malory's Lancelot in particular. In Outlaw Heroes as Liminal Figures of Film and Television, Umland traces the origin of the heroic loner in Hollywood films about cops, vigilantes, and action heroes back to cinematic and television westerns (including the 'disguised western' Casablanca), and ultimately to medieval romance and the figure of the knight, principally Malory's Lancelot. The book is organized into three sections. The Introduction and Part I begin by establishing the typology of the literary knight first in the Middle Ages and then as reinterpreted primarily in the Victorian Age. Umland then traces the lone knight errant as reincarnated on film in Casablanca and Shane and on television in The Lone Ranger and Have Gun—Will Travel. Part II treats two Hollywood franchises that begin in the 1970s, the maverick cop Dirty Harry series and the vigilante Death Wish series. Ulmand refers to these as 'urban westerns.' Part III explores two more franchises featuring action heroes that combine aspects of both the cop and the vigilante into the 'elite warrior': Rambo and Batman (in this case, appropriately, focusing on the Batman of the so-called Dark Knight series). The connection between these real, disguised, and urban westerns and chivalric romance is unquestionable. Nor is it accidental. Batman is a 'dark knight'; the gunslinger/mercenary of Have Gun—Will Travel is named 'Paladin' and uses a chess knight on his business card. Through extensive research, Umland reveals less obvious connections, as well. In one episode of the Lone Ranger radio show, the voiceover says, 'there is a light that must have burned in the eyes of knights in armor' (p. 63). Shane, the novel says, represents 'all that makes a man' (p. 43), a phrase from Tennyson's Idylls of the King. The final season of Have Gun—Will Travel opened with an 'origin story' in which viewers learn the hero was given the name 'Paladin' by a mentor who not only perceives the hero as a 'gentleman knight in shiny armor' (p. 74), but calls the villain of the story a dragon. [End Page 81] Once Umland enters the deeper woods of medieval romance itself, however, the parallels become more tenuous. She finds three traits of the knight reflected in the liminal outlaw hero, characteristics that become a unifying theme throughout the book. First, they are loners, either wandering or in some self-imposed exile or isolation. Second, they are free from permanent domestic entanglements and, in the end, always remain in their loner state. And they act according to a private moral code, often a 'higher law' at odds with 'official' societal authority. These are the characteristics of the 'true knight' as gleaned from Umland's main source, Beverly Kennedy's classic Knighthood in the 'Morte Darthur.' One can see how Lancelot might illustrate all three traits. He often wanders on errantry; he cannot marry; and, most importantly, when Guenevere is condemned to the stake for adultery, Lancelot, according to Umland, puts his personal code of honor and love above the law, rescues her, and precipitates a civil war with the official authority, King Arthur. Yet, upon closer examination of Lancelot's story in comparison to, say, Shane or Rick Blaine, cracks appear in the analogy. First, a knight errant is not a drifter. He is seeking whatever aventure God gives him to increase his worship at court, so errantry is socially sanctioned. Nor is he disillusioned or otherwise damaged, like Shane or Rick or even the Lone Ranger. The hero knight's moral code is not individualistic or at odds with official authority. The libertarian streak so prominent in the myth of the West is alien...

“We're Gonna Capture Johnny Depp”: Making Kin with Cinematic Comanches

This article analyzes Comanche elder LaDonna Harris's adoption of actor Johnny Depp as a response to the cultural politics of Disney's casting him as a Comanche Tonto in The Lone Ranger 2013. In addition to onscreen performers and characters like Depp's Tonto, in my reading “cinematic Comanches” also include offscreen cultural critics and social actors who, like Harris, maneuver through thorny layers of representing the indigenous. Focusing my inquiry on how Harris and other cinematic Comanches created opportunities to make kin with Depp, engage Disney, and expand the convoluted discourse on producing Comanche representation and cultural knowledge, I discuss Lone Ranger's hype and protest, Harris's reframing of the adoption as captivity, and post-captivity collaborations between Comanches, Depp, and Disney. I suggest that by recreating a traditional Comanche mode of kinship in the twenty-first century, Harris took Depp in as a son to honor his onscreen efforts, to express Comanche self-determination in kinship, and to increase the cultural capital of the Comanche Nation.

Paratextual Activity: Updating the Genettian approach within the transmedia turn

Fictional transmedia universes have been the objects of communication research throughout the last ten years. There has been such a proliferation of these universes that it can be argued that a ‘transmedia turn’ has occurred in research on the narratives of the early 21st century. This has generated interest in avant la lettre transmedia universes, i.e., not only those universes created after The Matrix and The Blair Witch Project, but even those created after The Wizard of Oz and The Lone Ranger. In parallel, the phenomenon has shed new light on the theoretical bases of transmediality. This article argues that this transmedia turn has been the cause of the revitalization of the Genettian concept of paratext, an intertextual modality found in the fuzzy threshold that exists between the diegetic and non-diegetic worlds, between products and by-products, between monomedia and transmedia, between ownership and creative freedom, and between content and promotional material. This article describes and compares the modulations suffered by paratextuality through the authors who have resumed and extended the reach of the Genettian term, and illustrates them with examples taken from official paratexts of recent transmedia fictional franchises.

From the Personal to the Political, Religious, and a Vision of Socialism in Maurice Gee’s Orchard Street, a New Zealand Novel for Children

This article considers Orchard Street, a novel for children by award-winning New Zealand author, Maurice Gee, and his use of history in depicting New Zealand during the 1951 conflict between the Waterside Workers, and the ship-owners and National government. The article focuses first on Gee’s childhood during the 1940s in Henderson, West Auckland, and on Newington Road where he and his family lived as a model for the creation of Orchard Street. It then looks at the integration of the 1951 conflict into this realistic setting, and Gee’s charging of the street with a political significance.
 A self-proclaimed socialist, Gee is firmly on the side of the Wharfies, as is his protagonist, the thirteen-year old Ossie Dye who is on the brink of adulthood, and faced with difficult choices. While supporting his parents’ socialist ideals, and delivering illegal propaganda at night, Ossie imagines he is the solitary American cowboy, Zane Grey’s Lone Star Ranger (p. 13), and excludes the lonely Bike Pike from his gang of friends.
 The article briefly examines Gee’s use of an older Ossie as the first person narrator who, looking back from 1991 to the 1951 conflict, forms a circular frame that modifies its depiction. Also considered is the influence of neo-liberalism and the social and political reforms of the 1980s-1990s on Gee’s writing. The article finally argues that the multi-layered timeframe and geometrical structure of the novel are evidence not only of the author’s preoccupation with division but, more predominantly, of his socialist ideology and search for wholeness and balance.

Mythic Frontiers: Remembering, Forgetting, and Profiting with Cultural Heritage Tourism by Daniel R. Maher

Reviewed by: Mythic Frontiers: Remembering, Forgetting, and Profiting with Cultural Heritage Tourismby Daniel R. Maher Richard Megraw Mythic Frontiers: Remembering, Forgetting, and Profiting with Cultural Heritage Tourism. By Daniel R. Maher. Cultural Heritage Series. ( Gainesville and other cities: University Press of Florida, 2016. Pp. xvi, 294. $79.95, ISBN 978-0-8130-6253-2.) Although historians may not recognize the specific case under study, they will find very familiar thematic concerns in Daniel R. Maher's reading of the [End Page 671]"frontier complex" in Fort Smith, Arkansas (p. 3). Following such authors as Tony Horwitz, David Lowenthal, and Richard R. Flores, Maher, an anthropologist at the University of Arkansas—Fort Smith, uses the term frontier complexto problematize the numerous iconic images modern Americans have used to define, display, celebrate, and, above all, commercialize the Wild West. All across America, under varying guises as "Frontier Days," "Founder's Days," or "Pioneer Days," local communities invoke cowboys and Indians, marshals and outlaws, to supplement flagging municipal revenues with tourist dollars. Ocean City, Maryland; Wetumpka, Alabama; Tombstone, Arizona; and Dodge City, Kansas are all in on it, and Fort Smith is, too, in especially big and revealing ways. Established in 1817 at the confluence of the Arkansas and Poteau Rivers, Fort Smith was among the original network of military posts ranging from Louisiana to Minnesota designed to police the first "permanent Indian frontier" (p. 7). A second Fort Smith, constructed in 1838, survived Zachary Taylor's budget ax (he lived there from 1842 to 1845) and flourished after the U.S.-Mexican War as garrison personnel escorted swarms of westering Americans down the Santa Fe Trail and across the continent to the California gold fields. This second fort was decommissioned in 1871, the year Fort Smith began what became its quarter-century run as the seat of the U.S. District Court for the Western District of Arkansas. Here "Hanging Judge" Isaac C. Parker dispensed justice to outlaws hauled before him by an impressive list of U.S. marshals, both real and fictional, including Bass Reeves, a black man who may or may not have been the model for the Lone Ranger, and Rooster Cogburn, hero of the Charles Portis novel True Grit(1968). Especially since the golden age of frontier tourism in the heady days after World War II, Fort Smith has trafficked heavily in Wild West imagery. Today, some fourteen sites, most of them clustered downtown near the Arkansas River, beckon curious motorists to stop and explore, among others, Miss Laura's Visitor Center, located in a former bordello, the Fort Smith National Historic Site, Judge Parker's Courtroom, and a nearby replica gallows, where tourists can play executioner to condemned dolls. Local residents impersonate both Miss Laura and Bass Reeves. Other reenactors stage mock shootouts. Probing Fort Smith's "frontier complex" through three years of fieldwork, Maher exposes enough false fronts to fill several Hollywood back lots and shows how the town's lived history bore little resemblance to the heritage local boosters promote. The original fort facilitated the expansion of white settlement at the expense of indigenous groups. The territory over which Judge Parker imposed "order" has been deliberately inflated over the years, while the Supreme Court overturned several of his decisions. Bass Reeves and the man who plays him are ensnarled in the complexities of contemporary identity politics. Miss Laura did not preside over a houseful of hookers with hearts of gold. Local residents prefer to ignore the extent to which the town has benefited from federal spending. None of this will surprise historians, especially those of the West; nevertheless, Maher's work contributes meaningfully to the ongoing discussion of [End Page 672]how Americans display and consume their complicated past. One can hardly blame local promoters for displaying a rosy version of the Old West. Their interest is commerce, not critical interrogation. Yet, especially in this anxious age of deindustrialization, neoliberal resurgence, and global transformation, we ignore at our peril Maher's passionate critique of this confected "heritage," the power relationships it sustains, and the history it erases. Richard Megraw University of Alabama Copyright © 2017 The Southern Historical Association

Monument Valley, Instagram, and the Closed Circle of Representation

Monument Valley, Instagram, and the Closed Circle of Representation

Análisis de la estética y la narrativa secuencial de la tira cómica el llanero solitario, publicada entre 1981 y 1984, e ilustrada por Russe

RESUMEN El Llanero Solitario ha sido uno de los personajes más emblemáticos de la cultura estadounidense. Su paso por la radio, televisión, cine y cómics marcó toda una época en la que los vaqueros eran héroes nacionales. Uno de los medios que tuvo mayor aceptación por parte del público fue el de la tira cómica o comic strip, que se publicaba diariamente. Escrita por Cary Bates e ilustrado por Russ Heath, esta tira logró llevar a muchos lectores a acompañar al Llanero Solitario y a Tonto en sus aventuras. Se trata de una obra de gran calidad narrativa y visual, en la que Russ Heath expone su talento como dibujante y su capacidad para ordenar, de manera inteligente, cada elemento gráfico del cómic.PALABRAS CLAVES Arte secuencial, cómic, composición, Llanero Solitario, narrativa, Russ Heath.KAWASPA RURASPA PARLASPA IMASAMI RURANKUNA ATUN KAWACHI SAPALLA LLAGTAPI, KAWACHISPA KAI WATAKUNAPI 1981-1984 CHASALLATA RURASKA SUG RUSSEL HEATHSUGLLAPIKaipi kai runa Cary Bates i Russ Heath Parlame Kawachhikame imasami tukuikunata sumaska kai suti alpapi sapalla, llalischiskakuna rimaspa, kawaspa kawachispa tukuikunata kai rurai suti comic strip, kai iskai runakuna kai kilkapi parlanakumi iman paikuna uillankuna. Munankuna tukuinutata kawachinga kankuna ajai iachakuna. Allilla imapas rurangapa Kilkangapa tukuikunata kawachinkuna sumaglla apachikuna.IMA SUTI RIMAI SIMI:Rukaikuna, kunaurramanda, kawachii, alpapi sapalla, parlu, Russ Heath.ANALYSIS OF THE AESTHETIC AND SEQUENTIAL NARRATIVE IN THE LONE RANGER COMIC STRIP, PUBLISHED BETWEEN 1981 AND 1984 AND ILLUSTRATED BY RUSSEL HEATHABSTRACT The Lone Ranger has been one of the most iconic characters in American culture. Its passage through radio, television, film and comics marked an era in which cowboys were national heroes. One medium that was widely accepted by the public was the daily comic strip. Written by Cary Bates and illustrated by Russ Heath, this strip managed to make readers feel that they were joining the Lone Ranger and Tonto on their adventures. This is a unique work of great narrative and visual quality, in which Russ Heath shows his talent as an illustrator and his ability to sort intelligently each graphic element.KEYWORDS Sequential art, comic, layout, Lone Ranger, narrative, Russ Heath.ANALYSE DE L’ESTHETIQUE ET DE LA NARRATIVE SEQUENTIELLE DANS LE COMIC STRIP THE LONE RANGER, PUBLIE ENTRE 1981 ET 1984, ET ILLUSTRE PAR RUSSEL HEATHRÉSUMÉ The Lone Ranger a été l’un des personnages les plus emblématiques de la culture américaine. Son passage à travers la radio, la télévision, le cinéma et la bande dessinée a marqué une époque où les cow-boys étaient des héros nationaux. Un moyen qui a été largement accepté par le public était la bande dessinée quotidienne. Écrite par Cary Bates et illustrée par Russ Heath, cette bande a réussi à rendre les lecteurs les compagnons du Lone Ranger et Tonto dans leurs aventures. Ceci est une œuvre unique de grande qualité narrative et visuelle, dans laquelle Russ Heath montre son talent de dessinateur et sa capacité à trier intelligemment chaque élément graphique.MOTS-CLEFSArt séquentiel, bande dessinée, mise en page, Lone Ranger, narrative, Russ Heath.ANALISES DA ESTÉTICA E DA NARRATIVA SEQUENCIAL DAS TIRINHAS O CAVALHEIRO SOLITÁRIO, PUBLICADA ENTRE 1981 E 1984, E ILUSTRADA POR RUSSEL HEATH.RESUMO O Cavalheiro Solitário tem sido um dos personagens mais emblemáticos da cultura americana (E.U). Seu passo pela rádio, televisão, cinema e os quadrinhos marcou toda uma época na que os boiadeiros eram heróis nacionais. Um dos meios que teve maior aceitação pelo público foi o das tirinhas ou quadrinhos strip, que se publicava diariamente. Escrita por Cary Bates e ilustrado por Russ Heath, estas tirinhas conseguiu levar a muitos leitores acompanhar ao cavalheiro solitário e a Tonto em suas aventuras. Se trata de uma obra de grande qualidade narrativa e visual, na que Russ Heath expõe o seu talento como desenhista e sua capacidade para ordenar, de maneira inteligente, cada elemento gráfico do Gibi.PALAVRAS CHAVES Arte sequencial, tirinhas, composição, Cavalheiro Solitário, narrativa, Russ Heath. Recibido el 04 de julio de 2015 Aceptado el 22 de enero de 2016

Sidekicking the sidekick: from a reassuring stable position to a disturbing narrative process

What is quite remarkable when one considers the following collection of essays dealing with sidekicks and underlings in English-language literature, film, popular culture and history, is that none of the favourite usual suspects turn up – with the notable exception perhaps of Tonto to the Lone Ranger in the article written by Lionel Larre and Aaron Carr. No long-enduring Watson to domineering Sherlock, no Robin to Batman, no Ron Weasley to Harry Potter, no Hastings to Poirot, no Tinker Bell t...

Forms of Speech, Religion, and Social Resistance

Forms of Speech, Religion, and Social Resistance Cláudio Carvalhaes This issue This issue of Cross Currents wants to work at the crossings of several currencies: religious movements, social resistance, public speech/performance, all within a demarcated global context. The intent of this issue is to examine that which is happening in our societies, from economic structures to street protests that form and shape our feelings, our habits, our laws, our forms of contestation, and consequently, who we are becoming throughout these performative processes and what sort of world we are creating. At first, the whole idea of this issue was intended to expand the notion of public discourses, and within this qualification, the communal aspects of a “sermon,” seen as this self‐sustained performative event done by a preacher alone. The hope was to expand the notion of individual pubic speaking into larger systems of communal work and social accountability. Having lived in United States for almost twenty years, I have come to realize that here, there is always a grounding sense of the individual who does and thinks and affects reality, always subverting the social by way of the individual who does this, who says that, most often from a community that is not always considered as part of that speech. Coming from Latin America, where I grew up seeing social movements putting down a military dictatorship and electing both a peasant and a woman as presidents of the country, it has been strange to live in this very individualized society. However, things have drastically changed in Brazil and in the United States as well. The savagery of the neoliberal project has taken over many societies, undoing social ties and leaving the individual at the center of those disappearing societies. It seems that we are all bowing down to Margaret Thatcher, who once said “… there is no such thing as society. There are individual men and women, and there are families.” What this individually focused culture does is to reinforce a sense of life that is lived without dependency or interconnections, but is based instead on individual gestures of transformation. No wonder the sense of loneliness and fear of being disconnected are two of the major diseases of our times. And no wonder that the whole sense of celebrity is so heightened, a norm for cultural orientation. To the point that even good critical theologians in the USA are making cases for the need for pastors and theologians to be superstars, as if to place themselves within the flow of the culture. It seems that every Protestant denomination needs a pastor superstar who will give a sense of coolness to his/her denomination. In the USA, “the land of the free and the home of the brave,” the lone ranger figure still looms large as an ineffable representative place of social‐celebrity recognition. What all this phenomenon does it to create a sense of political voluntarism, the feeling that the individual is the (only) one able to change anything. Under this scenario, the individual appears either as a volunteer who, out of altruism, gives her time to make a better world; or as a benefactor who will, out of the combination of altruism, money, and particular desires for self‐accomplishment, support good causes that she agrees with and that will sustain a certain group/mission/order. This voluntarism manages to strip away the civic duties of the individual that go beyond voting, which is itself a choice, and proposes that by voting, she has exhausted her responsibility toward the polis. In this way, she is not to be involved in crafting the major laws of the country or the way in which wealth is used in her community or what is needed for the good of the country. She becomes a passive volunteer who carries not only the idea of a certain type of patriotism/identity, but who also sustains a class struggle that she doesn't want to perceive. The power of the state, with a very clear organization of principles and ideologies, bombards any form of connection or association between individuals that can, for any reason, create groups of resistance. She is then left on her...

Deconstructing Cultural Icons – Sherman Alexie and Junot Díaz

This paper addresses the problem of the representation of Native American and Latino/a identity in Sherman Alexie’s collection of short stories, The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven (1993), and Junot Díaz’s, This Is How You Lose Her (2012). Both authors try to the deconstruct popular ethnic stereotypes of the Indian Warrior and the Macho by creating characters such as Victor Joseph and or Yunior, who learn to reject the violence-based legacies of their respective cultures and try to substitute them with new hybrid identities, thus proving that it is possible to transform one’s ethnic heritage without getting completely acculturated. This paper also attempts to demonstrate that Alexie and Díaz play a very important role in the discussion of postethnic space by emphasizing the dangers of perceiving the Other through the prism of mass-fabricated images. They continue the long tradition established by authors such as Gerald Vizenor, Louis Owens, Arnold Krupat, Octavio Paz, Mario Vargas Llosa, and others. Additionally, Alexie and Díaz incorporate survival humor into their narratives, which makes their characters more credible and universal.

The Lone Ranger Unmasked: Zorro and the Whitewashing of the American Superhero. Filmmaker Essay

The Lone Ranger Unmasked: Zorro and the Whitewashing of the American Superhero. Filmmaker Essay