920 resultados para Yukon Territory
Resumo:
The rapid growth of wind generation in many European countries is pushing power systems into
uncharted territory. As additional wind generators are installed, the changing generation mix may
impact on power system stability. This paper adopts the New England 39 bus system as a test
system for transient stability analysis. Thermal generator models are based on a likely future plant
mix for existing systems, while varying capacities of fixed-speed induction generators (FSIG) and
doubly-fed induction generators (DFIG) are considered. The main emphasis here has been placed
on the impact of wind technology mix on inter-area oscillations following transient grid
disturbances. In addition, both rotor angle stability and transient voltage stability are examined, and
results are compared with current grid code requirements and standards. Results have shown that
FSIGs can reduce tie-line oscillations and improve damping following a transient disturbance, but
they also cause voltage stability and rotor angle stability problems at high wind penetrations. In
contrast, DFIGs can improve both voltage and rotor angle stability, but their power output
noticeably oscillates during disturbances.
Resumo:
This paper will examine some of the ways in which processes of denomination
have shaped Northern Irish politics before and after the ‘Belfast’, or ‘Good Friday
Agreement’ of 1998. We concentrate on the formation of the ‘Unionist’ or ‘Loyalist
community’, principally because the flag protests of 2012-2013 have brought the
issue of this community identity to the fore again. The flag is part of a whole
machinery of what we, in this paper, will call ‘denomination’ in Northern Irish
politics and elsewhere. The religious overtones of the term are neither accidental
nor incidental. Acts of denomination posit (assertively, authoritatively) a
collective identity, conceived and constituted ontologically, as an existent entity,
and stake a claim to a whole territory.
Resumo:
Rockall is a tiny granite knoll isolated in the stormy waters of the North Atlantic. It is not habitable and has of itself no economic value. However, given its location it has been a prize insofar as at one time it was thought its possession could bring control of an exclusive economic zone. Iceland, Ireland and Denmark laid claim in addition to the UK, which had annexed Rockall in 1955, the last territory to be taken into the British Empire. In 1972 Rockall was declared to be part of Scotland. However the United Nations Convention on the Laws of the Sea (1982) now precludes rocks incapable of supporting life to be awarded economic zones. Interest in Rockall then reverted to symbolism especially in its occupation by Greenpeace in 1997 when the global state of Waveland was declared from Rockall’s summit, with Rockall itself as the capital. Greenpeace stayed on Rockall longer than anybody else and a claim has been established to it thereby, but Waveland itself collapsed with the failure of the company that serviced its online presence.
Resumo:
International boundaries are a basic building block of the modern international state system. The international system dictates a clear spatial distinction between states. International boundaries are the agreed-upon delineation of the spatial allocation of one sovereign territory in relation to that of all others. From a formal perspective, the boundaries of a state delimit the area of applicability of a particular state's sovereignty and pose the only general limitation on the autonomy of sovereignties. Clear and defined boundaries are considered a precondition to the establishment of a state, and control over its boundaries is a sovereign prerogative, whereas an unauthorized breaching of state boundaries by other sovereign powers is considered a declaration of war.
Resumo:
Bills of rights are currently a much debated topic in various jurisdictions throughout the world. Almost all democratic nations, with the exception of Australia, now have a bill of rights. These take a variety of forms, ranging from constitutionally entrenched bills of rights, such as those of the United States and South Africa, to non-binding statements of rights. Falling between these approaches are non-entrenched, statutory bills of rights. As regards the latter, a model which has become increasingly popular is that of bills of rights based on interpretative obligations, whereby duties are placed upon courts to interpret national legislation in accordance with human rights standards. The aim of this book is to provide a comparative analysis of the bills of rights of a number of jurisdictions which have chosen to adopt such an approach. The jurisdictions considered are New Zealand, the United Kingdom, the Australian Capital Territory and the Australian state of Victoria.
There have been very few books published to date which contain a detailed comparative analysis of the bills of rights which this book addresses. The book adopts a unique thematic approach, whereby six aspects of the bills of rights in question have been selected for comparative analysis and a chapter is allocated to each aspect. This approach serves to facilitate the comparative discussion and emphasise the centrality of the comparative methodology.
Resumo:
The decarbonisation of energy systems draw a new set of stakeholders into debates over energy generation, engage a complex set of social, political, economic and environmental processes and impact at a wide range of geographical scales, including local landscape changes, national energy markets and regional infrastructure investment. This paper focusses on a particular geographic scale, that of the regions/nations of the UK (Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland), who have been operating under devolved arrangements since the late 1990s, coinciding with the mass deployment of wind energy. The devolved administrations of the UK possess an asymmetrical set of competencies over energy policy, yet also host the majority of the UK wind resource. This context provides a useful way to consider the different ways in which geographies of "territory" are reflected in energy governance, such through techno-rational assessments of demand or infrastructure investment, but also through new spatially-defined institutions that seek to develop their own energy future, using limited regulatory competencies. By focussing on the way the devolved administrations have used their responsibilities for planning over the last decade this paper will assess the way in which the spatial politics of wind energy is giving rise to renewed forms of territorialisation of natural resources. In so doing, we aim to contribute to clarifying the questions raised by Hodson and Marvin (2013) on whether low carbon futures will reinforce or challenge dominant ways of organising relationships between the nation-state, regions, energy systems and the environment.
Resumo:
The national resource privilege, which holds that states are allowed to control all the natural resources found in their territory, is a cornerstone of international politics. Supporters of the national resource privilege claim that without the privilege states would fail to be sovereign and self-determining entities which provide for the needs of their citizens. However, as this paper shows the case is not as simple as that. In fact, control over resources must be carefully unpacked. Doing so shows that states do not require full control over all resources found in their territory in order to be sovereign. Moreover, sovereignty and self-determination come with a set of responsibilities and duties attached. Based on these observations the paper will sketch the contours of an alternative resource governance scheme built around the idea of an International Court of the Environment.
Resumo:
This paper studies the representation of suburbs as a place of anguish in the “Special Police” novels (Fleuve Noir publisher, Paris) by Frédéric Dard. This anxiety, it is argued, is what lends this collection of 25 novels some of their essential qualities, their unhealthy climate and absolute darkness. Dard’s suburbs fit into the traditions of realism; but the atmosphere, characters and plots owe to the American hardboiled school and like in film noir, space is stylized and dramatized, and often used to express a judgment of moral nature. Spatial representations in these novels are part of a critique of civilization and constitute a comment on the social modernization and public intervention in the development of the French territory in the postwar period. The novels written by Frédéric Dard from the mid-1950s to mid-1960s offer a profoundly original representation of suburban angst and what was not yet known at the time as the suburban malaise. Avoiding clichés and excessively connoted referential spaces, Dard anchor these noir novels he called “novels of the night” in landscapes that are both biographical and intertextual. The West Suburbs of Paris and what was
to become the Yvelines department are at the centre of Dard’s novelistic geography, turning into a mythical and deadly space in which is negotiated an acculturation in France of the evil and ruined world described in American noir.
Resumo:
‘A free Ireland would drain the bogs, would harness the rivers, would plant the wastes, would nationalise the railways and the waterways, would improve agriculture, would protect fisheries, would foster industries, would promote commerce, and beautify the cities …’ (Padraig Pearse, ‘From a Hermitage’, 1913)
Somewhat unusually in his often romantic writings Padraig Pearse – poet, pedagogue and revolutionary – chose to describe the future of an independent Ireland in terms of infrastructure and technological processes. Terence Brown’s locating of this excerpt at the beginning his seminal work Ireland: A Social and Cultural History 1922-2002 highlights the simultaneous and interlinking construction of both a new physical and cultural landscape for an independent modern nation. Lacking any significant industrial complex, the construction of new infrastructures in Ireland was seen throughout the 20th century as a key element in the building of the new State, just as the adoption of an international style modernism in architecture was perceived as a way to escape the colonial past. For Paul N. Edwards modernity and infrastructure are intimately connected.
‘infrastructures simultaneously shape and are shaped – in other words, co-construct – the condition of modernity. By linking macro, meso, and micro scales of time, space and social organisation, they form the stable foundation of modern social worlds’ (2003: 186).
Simultaneously omnipresent and invisible – infra means beneath – Edwards also points out that infrastructure tends only to become apparent when it is either new or broken. Interpreting the meso scale as being that of the building, this session calls for papers that critically and analytically investigate aspects of the architectures of infrastructure in 20th-century Ireland. Like the territory they explore these papers may range across scales to oscillate between a concern for the artefact and its physical landscape, and the larger, often hidden systems and networks that co-define this architecture.
Resumo:
Constitutional Questions
Professor John Morison MRIA School of Law, Queen’s University Belfast
How should we live together? Is there any ethical question more fundamental than this?
Is a constitution only about who does what in government or is it about what is to be done? Does a constitution provide the ground rules for deciding this or is it part of the answer itself? Is it the repository of fundamental values about how to live? What is the good life anyway? Is it about the preservation of life and liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? Or something more? What about preserving (or radically reordering) the distribution of property? Or ensuring that everyone has the same chances? Is it the job of the constitution to simply promise dignity, equality and freedom, or to deliver these values?
If the constitution is the place where the state undertakes “to promote the welfare of the whole people”, what does this actually mean in practical terms? And who pays for it? Should a constitution give us an entitlement to at least a basic minimum by way of a lifestyle? Or is it the job only of the political process to decide issues about the allocation of resources? What do we do if we feel that we cannot trust our politicians? Are there basic rules that should govern the operation of politics and are there fundamental values that should not be overridden? Are these “sacred and undeniable”? Or to be interpreted in line with modern conditions and within a “margin of appreciation”? Who decides on this in individual cases?
Who is entitled to any of this, and on what basis? Is everyone equal? Is the constitution about making it clear that no-one is better than you, and that in turn, you are better than no-one? Is a constitution about ensuring that you will always be an end in yourself and never simply a means to anyone else’s end? Or does it simply reinforce the existing distribution of power and wealth?
Are citizens to be given more than those who are not citizens? Is more to be expected from them, and what might that be? Can the constitution tell us how we should treat those from outside who now live with us?
What is the relationship between a constitution and a nation? Who is in the nation anyway? Should we talk about “we the people” or “we the peoples”? Should a constitution confirm a nationality or facilitate diversity? Is the constitution the place to declare aspirations for a national territory? Or to confirm support for the idea of consent? What about all our neighbours – on the island of Ireland and in Great Britain? Or in Europe? And beyond?
What is the relationship between a constitution and democracy? Is a constitution simply the rules by which the powerful govern the powerless? In what sense does a constitution belong to everyone, across past, present and future generations? Is it the place where we state common values? Are there any? Do they change across time? Should the people be asked about changes they may want? How often should this be done? Should the constitution address the past and its problems? How might this be done? What do we owe future generations?
Finally, if we can agree that the constitution is about respecting human rights, striving for social justice and building a fair and democratic Ireland – North and South – how do we make it happen in practice?
Resumo:
In this ‘research project’ case study, we provide an empirical example of how quantitative and qualitative methods were combined within a single study and discuss some of the strengths and weaknesses of our combined methodology which included questionnaires, photo-prompts and focus-group interviews. Our intention in using mixed methods was to enhance understandings of the meanings of space, place and territory on the everyday lives of young people growing up in Belfast. How do young people negotiate space in politically divided cities such as Belfast? Is territory important, and if so, why is it important? How do we construct an appropriate and relevant study design that can not only describe, but explain what place, space and territory mean to young people, and more importantly, how it impacts on their everyday lives? How useful is it to apply a mixed-methods approach to finding answers to these questions? We explain why and how we used a mixed-methods approach and illuminate some of the issues we encountered. We demonstrate how mixed methods can provide not just complementary but also new insights into the topic under investigation. We hope that the case study encourages you to experiment, or at least consider, the potential of using mixed methods.
Resumo:
The introduction of Protestantism into the Middle East by American missionaries in the nineteenth century met with limited success while the responses and internalizations of local converts proved incredibly diverse. The two resultant theological descendants are Palestinian Christian Zionists and Palestinian Liberation Theologists. The article provides a short history of these two movements and highlights influential voices through interviews and media analysis. This article argues that hybrid religious identifications with nation and place has transcended, in some cases, political struggle for territory.
Resumo:
Purpose: Changes to health care systems andworking hours have fragmentedresidents’ clinical experiences withpotentially negative effects ontheir development as professionals.Investigation of off-site supervision,which has been implemented in isolatedrural practice, could reveal importantbut less overt components of residencyeducation.
Method: Insights from sociocultural learningtheory and work-based learning provideda theoretical framework. In 2011–2012,16 family physicians in Australia andCanada were asked in-depth how theyremotely supervised residents’ workand learning, and for their reflectionson this experience. The verbatiminterview transcripts and researchers’memos formed the data set. Templateanalysis produced a description andinterpretation of remote supervision.
Results: Thirteen Australian family physiciansfrom five states and one territory, andthree Canadians from one province,participated. The main themes werehow remoteness changed the dynamicsof care and supervision; the importanceof ongoing, holistic, nonhierarchical,supportive supervisory relationships; andthat residents learned “clinical courage”through responsibility for patients’ careover time. Distance required supervisorsto articulate and pass on their expertiseto residents but made monitoringdifficult. Supervisory continuityencouraged residents to build on pastexperiences and confront deficiencies.
Conclusions: Remote supervision enabled residents todevelop as clinicians and professionals.This questions the supremacy of co-locationas an organizing principle forresidency education. Future specialists maybenefit from programs that give themongoing and increasing responsibilityfor a group of patients and supportive.
Resumo:
This paper explores the theme of exhibiting architectural research through a particular example, the development of the Irish pavilion for the 14th architectural biennale, Venice 2014. Responding to Rem Koolhaas’s call to investigate the international absorption of modernity, the Irish pavilion became a research project that engaged with the development of the architectures of infrastructure in Ireland in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Central to this proposition was that infrastructure is simultaneously a technological and cultural construct, one that for Ireland occupied a critical position in the building of a new, independent post-colonial nation state, after 1921.
Presupposing infrastructure as consisting of both visible and invisible networks, the idea of a matrix become a central conceptual and visual tool in the curatorial and design process for the exhibition and pavilion. To begin with this was a two-dimensional grid used to identify and order what became described as a series of ten ‘infrastructural episodes’. These were determined chronologically across the decades between 1914 and 2014 and their spatial manifestations articulated in terms of scale: micro, meso and macro. At this point ten academics were approached as researchers. Their purpose was twofold, to establish the broader narratives around which the infrastructures developed and to scrutinise relevant archives for compelling visual material. Defining the meso scale as that of the building, the media unearthed was further filtered and edited according to a range of categories – filmic/image, territory, building detail, and model – which sought to communicate the relationship between the pieces of architecture and the larger systems to which they connect. New drawings realised by the design team further iterated these relationships, filling in gaps in the narrative by providing composite, strategic or detailed drawings.
Conceived as an open-ended and extendable matrix, the pavilion was influenced by a series of academic writings, curatorial practices, artworks and other installations including: Frederick Kiesler’s City of Space (1925), Eduardo Persico and Marcello Nizzoli’s Medaglio d’Oro room (1934), Sol Le Witt’s Incomplete Open Cubes (1974) and Rosalind Krauss’s seminal text ‘Grids’ (1979). A modular frame whose structural bays would each hold and present an ‘episode’, the pavilion became both a visual analogue of the unseen networks embodying infrastructural systems and a reflection on the predominance of framed structures within the buildings exhibited. Sharing the aspiration of adaptability of many of these schemes, its white-painted timber components are connected by easily-dismantled steel fixings. These and its modularity allow the structure to be both taken down and re-erected subsequently in different iterations. The pavilion itself is, therefore, imagined as essentially provisional and – as with infrastructure – as having no fixed form. Presenting archives and other material over time, the transparent nature of the space allowed these to overlap visually conveying the nested nature of infrastructural production. Pursuing a means to evoke the qualities of infrastructural space while conveying a historical narrative, the exhibition’s termination in the present is designed to provoke in the visitor, a perceptual extension of the matrix to engage with the future.