Pulping affirmation : Danny Wallace’s Yes Man!

If Danny Wallace is a yes man, I am most certainly a no woman. No, I will not agree to anything and everything in an attempt to make my life “more interesting”. No, I do not believe that on “one fateful day a mystery man on a late night bus” will change my life forever. I hate the bus. In fact, I don’t even catch public transport. Wallace’s recent film tie-in Yes Man reeks of such cheesy optimism. The book’s premise is simple and indeed, even alluring at first. When a stranger on the bus tells Danny to “say yes more” (9), his life takes a dramatic turn on the roundabout of possibility. Sad, single, and staying inside a lot, Danny signs himself up for a year of mishap and misadventure, accepting every request, suggestion and invitation offered to him by both friends and strangers.

Who owns Superman? The Man of Steel fights trademark law

Who is Superman’s greatest threat? Evil genius Lex Luthor? General Zod from the Phantom Zone? The doppelganger Bizarro? Super-villain Brainiac? Kryptonite? Or is it intellectual property law?

The High Court of Australia and the Marlboro Man: The Battle Over the Plain Packaging of Tobacco Products

In 2012, the High Court of Australia handed down a landmark decision on the plain packaging of tobacco products. This chapter considers the historic ruling in the case of JT International SA v Commonwealth; British American Tobacco Australasia Ltd v Commonwealth. This chapter explores several themes in the decision. First, it highlights the historical work by the High Court of Australia on the role of health regulation, the use of health warnings, and tobacco control. Second, the chapter considers the High Court of Australia's view that intellectual property law promotes the public interest.Third, it explores the High Court of Australia’s analysis of the constitutional law on acquisition of property on just terms. Finally, this chapter contends that the High Court of Australia's ruling on plain packaging of tobacco products will spark an 'Olive Revolution' — and will encourage superior courts and policy-makers to follow suit.

Identification of a putative cellulase gene in the giant freshwater prawn, Macrobrachium rosenbergii (De Man, 1879)

Nutrition plays an important role in the development of all organisms and in particular that of farmed aquatic species where costs associated with feed can often exceed 60% of total production costs. Crustacean species in addition, have the added metabolic requirement for regular moulting to allow normal growth and this requires large amounts of energy in the form of sugars (glucose). The current study explored the capacity of the giant freshwater prawn to produce endogenous cellulose-degrading enzymes capable of extracting nutrients (simple sugars) from plant sources in formulated feeds used in the prawn aquaculture industry. We identified a putative cellulase cDNA fragment in the target organism of 1576 base pairs in length of non-microbial origin that after protein modelling exhibited a TM-score of 0.916 with a described cellulase reported from another crustacean species. The functional role of cellulase enzymes is to hydrolyse cellulose to glucose and the fragment identified in GFP was highly expressed in the hepatopancreas, the site of primary food digestion and absorption in crustaceans. Hepatopancreatic tissue from Macrobrachium rosenbergii also showed active digestion of cellulose to glucose following an endoglucanase assay. Cellulase gene(s) are present in the genomes of many invertebrate taxa and play an active role in the conversion of cellulose to available energy. Identification and characterization of endogenous cellulase gene(s) in giant freshwater prawn can assist development of the culture industry because the findings confirm that potentially greater levels of low-cost plant-material could be included in artificial formulated diets in the future without necessarily compromising individual growth performance. Ultimately, this development may contribute to more efficient, cost-effective production systems for freshwater prawn culture stocks that meet the animal's basic nutritional requirements and that also support good individual growth rates.

Mauve: How one man invented the colour that changed the world

In an essay, "The Books of Last Things", Delia Falconer discusses the emergence of a new genre in publishing - microhistories. She cites a number of recent titles in non-fiction and fiction - Longitude, Cod, Tulips, Pushkin's Button, Nathaniel's Nutmeg, Zarafa, The Surgeon of Crowthorne, The Potato, The Perfect Storm. Delia Falconer observes of this tradition: "One has the sense, reading these books, of a surprising weight, of pleasant shock. In part, it is because we are looking at things which are generally present around us, but modestly out of sight and mind - historical nitty gritty like cod, potatoes, longitudinal clocks - which the authors have thrust suddenly, like a Biblical visitation of frogs or locusts, in our face. Things like spice and buttons and clocks are generally seen to enable history on the large scale, but are not often viewed as its worthy subjects. And by the same grand logic of history, more unusual phenomena like cabinets of curiosities or glass-making or farm lore or sailors' knots are simply odd blips on its radar screen, interesting footnotes. These new books, microhistories, reverse the usual order of history, which argues from the general to the particular, in order to prove its inevitable progress. They start from the footnotes. But by reversing the process, and walking through the back door of history, you don't necessarily end up at the front of the same house." Delia Falconer speculates about the reasons for the popularity of microhistories. She concludes: "I would like to think that reading them is not simply an exercise in nostalgia, but a challenge to the present". In Mauve, Simon Garfield provides a new way of thinking and writing about the history of intellectual property. Instead of providing a grand historical narrative of intellectual property, he tells the story of a particular invention, and its exploitation. Simon Garfield relates how English chemist William Perkin accidentally discovered a way to mass-produce colour mauve in a factory. Working on a treatment for malaria in his London home laboratory, Perkin failed to produce artificial quinine. Instead he created a dark oily sludge that turned silk a beautiful light purple. The colour was unique and became the most desirable shade in the fashion houses of Paris and London. ... The book Mauve will have a number of contemporary resonances for intellectual property lawyers and academics. Simon Garfield emphasizes the difficulties inherent in commercialising an invention and managing intellectual property. He investigates the uneasy collaboration between industry and science. Simon Garfield suggests that complaints about the efficacy of patent offices are perennial. He also highlights the problems faced by courts and law-makers in accommodating new technologies within the logic of patent law. In his elegant microhistory of the colour mauve, Simon Garfield confirms the conclusion of Brad Sherman and Lionel Bently that many aspects of modern intellectual property law can only be understood through an understanding of the past: "The image of intellectual property law that developed during the 19th century and the narrative of identity which this engendered played and continue to play an important role in the way we think about and understand intellectual property law".

The High Court and the Marlboro Man: The plain packaging decision

The High Court of Australia’s ruling on the plain packaging of tobacco products is one of the great constitutional cases of our age. The ruling will resonate throughout the world - as other countries will undoubtedly seek to emulate Australia’s plain packaging regime.

From the genius of man to the man of genius, part two: Inheriting (ideas about) genius

In Part One of ʻFrom the Genius of the Man to the Man of Geniusʼ I argued that classical and medieval inscriptions of genius figures suggest a coevalence between characters in their respective cosmologies, making it relatively more difficult to delineate Man from “spirits” and “other organisms”. The labour that genii performed flowed around two significant tropes of production and reproduction whose specificities were inflected in and across sources. In medieval poetry, for instance, genius figures took up a new role in regard to the reproduction trope, as promoter of virtue (in the form of censuring the seven deadly sins) and condemner of vice (in the form of prohibition against same sex intercourse). The sedimentation (complex processes of character-formation), directionality (patterns of descent) and sexual ecology (emergence of a field of ethics) that the medieval literature embodies also indexes an opening disarticulation of Man from universe and the possibility of grounding “morality” in and as His love choices. Through a series of narrative structures, binary concepts and new sources of authority under Christianity the figure now referred to in philosophy as “the subject” is given early grounds upon which to form in the medieval poems.

From the genius of man to the man of genius, part one: A slippery subject

The two articles that comprise this analysis springboard from the availability and increased popularity of the term genius to nineteenth and twentieth century educational scholars and its (temporary) location along a continuum of mindedness that was relatively new (i.e., as opposite to insanity). Three generations of analysis playfully structure the argument, taking form around the gen‐ root’s historical association with tropes of production and reproduction. Of particular interest in the analysis is how subject‐formation, including perceptions of non‐formation and elusivity, occurs. I examine this process of (non)formation within and across key texts on genius, especially in relation to their narrative structures, key binaries and sources of authority that collectively produce and embed specific cosmologies and their moral boundaries. The argument is staged across two articles that embody the three generations of analysis.

J.W.Lindt’s Colonial man and Aborigine image from the GRAFTON ALBUM : “On chemistry and optics all does not depend, art must with these in triple union blend”

J.W.Lindt’s Colonial man and Aborigine image from the GRAFTON ALBUM: “On chemistry and optics all does not depend, art must with these in triple union blend” (text from J.W. Lindt’s photographic backing card) In this paper, I follow an argument that Lindt held a position in his particular colonial environment where he was simultaneously both an insider and an outsider and that such a position may be considered prerequisite in stimulating exchange. A study of the transition of J.W. Lindt in Grafton, N.S.W. in the 1860s from a traveller to a migrant and subsequently to a professional photographer, as well as Lindt’s photographic career, which evolved through strategic action and technical approaches to photography, bears witness to his cultural relativity. One untitled photograph from this period of work constructs a unique commentary of Australian colonial life that illustrates a non-hegemonic position, particularly as it was included in one of the first albums of photographs of Aborigines that Lindt gifted to an illustrious person (in this case the Mayor of Grafton). As in his other studio constructions, props and backdrops were arranged and sitters were positioned with care, but this photograph is the only one in the album that includes a non-Aborigine in a relationship to an Aborigine. An analysis of the props, technical details of the album and the image suggests a reconciliatory aspect that thwarts the predominant attitudes towards Aborigines in the area at that time.

Studio portrait of Hans Bernkopf as a young man. Portraits Men

Digital Image

Studio portrait of Josef Molling with unidentified man; Heidelberg, Germany.

right: Joseph Molling sitting; left: unknown man standing

Studio portrait of Josef Molling with unidentified man; Heidelberg, Germany.

right: Joseph Molling sitting; left: unknown man standing