Wednesday, December 22, 2010

DIRECTV has added HBO and Cinemax programs to its Video On Demand(VOD) lineup

HBO's VOD lineup includes the entire season of the Golden Globe-nominated Boardwalk Empire as well as movies, original shows and documentaries while Cinemax's VOD menu features movies.



The two channels have been conspicuously absent from the DIRECTV On Demand menu. DIRECTV, which launched its VOD service in July 2008, has been offering numerous channels on demand including Showtime, Starz, HDNet, IFC and A&E.



DIRECTV has not issued a press release explaining why HBO and Cinemax are being added now, but it's likely the satcaster recently reached a deal with Time Warner which owns both channels. The two channels were added to DIRECTV On Demand this week.



The satellite TV service has expressed optimism that its VOD service will compete effectively with the On Demand services offered by cable and telco operators. However, unlike their rivals' VOD offerings, DIRECTV's VOD service requires subscribers to connect their set-tops to the Internet.



DIRECTV recently acknowledged that the Net issue has been an obstacle, saying that it plans to soon offer a free service to connect their subscribers' set-tops to the Internet. The company did not offer details, but Investor's Business Daily has reported that DIRECTV is testing a joint Internet service with Verizon.

Top Ten UK TV programmes 2010

Here is a list of the top ten most watched UK TV programmes this year (until 19th Dec!)


Top 10 TV shows

Rank, Title, Channel, Date, 000s, Share %,



1 The X Factor Results ITV1 12/12/2010 17,709 55
2 World Cup 2010: England v Germany BBC1 27/06/2010 17,452 81
3 EastEnders BBC1 19/02/2010 16,407 57
4 Coronation Street ITV1 06/12/2010 14,747 48
5 World Cup

The Deep! cool stopmotion animation

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

MGMT Kids

偶然機會聽到 MGMT Kids, very enjoy this music......

more info there. and here.

You were a child,
crawlin' on your knees toward it.
Makin' mama so proud,
but your voice was too loud.

We like to watch you laughing.
You pick the insects off plants.
No time to think of consequences.

Control yourself.
Take only what you need from it.
A family of trees wantin',
To be haunted.

Control yourself.
Take only what you need from it.
A family of trees wantin',
To be haunted.

The water is warm,
but it's sending me shivers.
A baby is born,
crying out for attention.
Memories fade,
like looking through a fogged mirror
Decision to decisions are made and not bought
But I thought,
this wouldn't hurt a lot.
I guess not.

Control yourself.
Take only what you need from it.


A family of trees wantin',
To be haunted.

Control yourself.
Take only what you need from it.
A family of trees wantin',
To be haunted.


Control yourself.
Take only what you need from it.
A family of trees wantin',
To be haunted.

Control yourself.
Take only what you need from it.
A family of trees wantin',
To be haunted.

Control yourself.
Take only what you need from it.
A family of trees wantin',
To be haunted.


Control yourself.
Take only what you need from it.
A family of treeeeees...


poor kid in MV...

The Image of Gandhi in 'Gunga Din'

In a most significant display of contempt and cynicism the 1939 Hollywood film 'Gunga Din' cast the 'mad guru' in the physical mold of Mahatma Gandhi. From his slight physique to his austere sartorial look wearing just a loin cloth and a chaddar (a large cotton shawl) draped over his shoulder or head, the demented villainous guru recalled the unmistakable figure of Mahatma Gandhi. Except for the head gear (turban), this was the dress which Gandhi wore during his visit to England for attending the Round Table Conference. Adopted from 1921 onwards, this dress contributed substantially in endearing him to the peasant masses of India. It was widely familiarized to the Western public through the visual media.


Gunga Din collapses the actor and personality of Gandhi into one. For the white audience, this effected a closure between the real person and the villain in the film, but for the Indian audience, it opened up the imperialist's motivated misrepresentation. Yet, this collapsing of the two identities made the identification of the Indian audience with the guru and what he stood for that much easier and more significant. The film had once again picked up, what a television critic was to point out much later, writing in the journal Voice in 1985, 'the worst nightmare of the British in India,' by making him the chief threat to the British Raj. In the 1930s, Gandhi was a permanent nuisance to the British. By and large, he was considered and projected not as a saint in Britain, but as one official put it, 'cunning as a carload of monkeys,' and his views on caste, the cow, Lancashire and women were made fun of, as reported by Suhash Chakravarty in The Raj Syndrome (1989). Even sympathizers like Edward Thompson, who came to be a correspondent of Gandhi's and was a supported of the Congress, found him deceitful. In his novels (such as his 1932 A Letter from India) he offered serious doubts about Gandhi. In fact, Gandhi was not treated particularly well in colonial fiction.

The portrayal of Gandhi as the chief villain highlighted the dichotomous perceptions of the two different audiences, Western and Indian. For the Western audience, the empire films confirmed the newsreel projection of Gandhi. According to Martin A. Jackson's article 'Film and the Historian,' published in the journal Culture in 1974, these images of Gandhi were of a 'peculiar Oriental who had outlandish ideas about independence and who wore a loin cloth.' Moreover, Gandhi 'being odd in appearance, full of surprises and engaged in the strangest activities, such as fasting or marching for independence,' was a good subject for the new cameras. It was this image that was duplicated in the feature film. Hollywood's heavy reliance upon the British India Office for cooperation in the making of the film, along with Katherine Mayo and other British writers as a source of information, resulted in the particular propaganda thrust of Gunga Din. In this film especially, as noted by Garry Hess in America Encounters India (1971), Hollywood gave shape to the British propaganda in the USA, which depicted the Congress as fascist with its dictatorial leadership, its domination by a single race (Hindus), its standard uniform of dhoti and Gandhi cap (substituted by a turban in the film) and its veneration of Gandhi, which was projected to resemble that accorded to Hitler by the Germans. Yes, this film also allowed for alternatives US perceptions. Ideologically, Gandhi had his following and admirers in the USA, which comprised a strong anti-imperialist lobby.

For the Indian audience, therefore, the resultant and essentially ambivalent cinematic portrayal provoked wide condemnatory comment in the media. The close resemblance to the villain in Gunga Din to Gandhi also reinforced the contemporaneity of the film. Writing about Gandhi's portrayal in this film, a 1939 issue of the journal Film India recalled an earlier cinematic attempt in 1935, when RKO had produced a two-reel comedy, Everybody Likes Music, in which, 'Our revered leader Mahatma Gandhi was portrayed as an immoral drunkard with a low woman in a cheap saloon. His figure, his dress and all his peculiarities so sacred and dear to our nation were used to convey an exact identification, same as in Gunga Din, that could not be missed.' For exhibition in India, the offensive portion in the film, Everybody Likes Music, was censored in 1935. Yet, this insult, it was pointed out, was 'broadcast all over the world and the white man laughed at the man who we worship as a God in our country.'

Such a reaction from the Indians was no surprise to the British. They were in fact aware, according to contemporary documents from the India Office Records, of the annoyance in India caused by a German broadcast in which a Germanophile Indian student sneered at Mahatma Gandhi and other India leaders while denouncing the concept of non-violence. Gunga Din went far beyond this: British army officers are shown to abuse the guru, repeatedly denigrating him as 'the dog,' 'the filthy scum' and the 'maniac.' This abuse and ridicule directed at the Mahatma, could hardly fail to provoke an Indian audience.

At the same time, cinematically, this audience had Gandhi and his ideology amply projected in their own movies. A silent-era film Sant Vidur (or Bhakta Vidur), produced in 1921, provided a direct nationalist projection of Gandhi. In this Vidur was molded on the personality of Mahatma Gandhi, played by Dwarka Das, an actor with a tall and lanky figure. According to oral history records in the National Film Archive of India, his entire make up 'made him look like the Mahatma, including the Dandi Danda in his hand.' The film was banned initially because, as J. B. H. Wadia observed in an interview recorded in 1984, 'We know what you are doing, it is not Vidur, it is Gandhiji, we won't allow it.' Later on, with several cuts, the producer succeeded in showing the film in some of the provinces, including Bombay. It did roaring business everywhere. There were yet other films, like Brahmchari made in 1938, which showed Gandhi's Wardha-like ashram run on nationalist lines of self-help, hard work, the khadi (raw cotton) spinning and weaving program and other handicrafts. The charkha (spinning wheel), reminiscent of sudarshan chakra (the divine weapon of the Hindu god, Vishnu, and a destroyer of all evil), and looked upon as a potent icon of freedom movement, was popularly perceived as a symbol of the annihilation of foreigners. This film also ran into trouble with the censors because of its explicit nationalist overtones and identification with Mahatma Gandhi.

An important landmark in early films incorporating the contemporary nationalist discourse, especially in relation to Mahatma Gandhi, was Sant Tukaram (1936). A vastly popular film it ran continuously for a year in Bombay; in the countryside people walked for miles to see its open-air screenings. The film was rated as one of the three best films at the prestigious Venice film festival in 1937, marking the first time an Indian film won an international award. Tukaram, as Geeta Kapur argues in a 1987 article 'Mythical Material in Indian Cinema,' has necessarily to be seen as a socially symbolic narrative. It shows the cross-referencing between cultural creation and political situation already conditioned by the contemporary 'saint,' Gandhi. The film established a close parallel between Tukaram and Gandhi in their message.


In the late 1930s the marketability of nationalism and its viability were visible not merely in the films produced by Indians - most of which became popular hits - but also in the way producers, distributors and exhibitors advertised their products. Mahatma Gandhi, for example, was a favorite for advertising the films. Large size photographs of Gandhi adorned the film advertisements along with much smaller photographs of the lead hero or heroine. According to documents in the Maharashtra State Archives, yet other films were advertised as 'helper to the cause of Mahatma Gandhi,' or invited the viewers to see their film, advertised as portraying 'the ideals of Mahatma Gandhi,' or claimed that 'Mahatma Gandhi's immortal words inspire a picture.' So much so that the distributors and exhibitors of a Hollywood film also felt it commercially prudent to put in a sponsored advertisement claiming, 'Mahatma Gandhi sees the first talking picture Mission to Moscow.' The report that followed suggested that Mahatma Gandhi considered this film to be of the 'right type.'

The British officials were aware of the public draw of the Mahatma's name in the film industry, as suggested by other documents in the Maharashtra State Archives. They had attempted to curb both advertisements and films that exploited the Mahatma's name. Yet, it is significant that despite this hyper-sensitive concern of the film censors in India - who saw in the title Mahatma (a Hindi feature film) 'a sinister association with Mahatma Gandhi' and pressurised the producers into changing it to Dharmatama - they failed to see or offer any comment on the allusion to Mahatma Gandhi in Gunga Din. One can speculate that perhaps they used this demeaning portrayal as a corrective to the one being projected in the indigenous film industry. In fact, it is interesting to note in this connection that Col. Hanna had raised severe objection to Gaumont British's synopsis of a film called Black Land in 1934, which came too close to some of the recent events in South Africa, having identifiable British officials under a thin disguise, as reported by Jeffrey Richards in The Age of the Dream Palace (1983).

The 1930s were also the years when Gandhi had emerged in the Western world, especially in the USA, as enormously newsworthy. A large number of documentaries and newsreels were made of Gandhi's visit to England and his activities in India by foreign producers in keeping with the importance of Indian news in general and that of Gandhi in particular. The newsworthiness of India can be seen in the fact that the British Movietone News kept a crew permanently in India during these years, as evidenced by documents in the Maharashtra State Archives, with a view to securing a 'constant supply of Indian pictures.' Moreover, because these films were widely exhibited in the USA, it was considered 'highly desirable that their subject matter and method of presentation should be carefully considered' with an eye to the effect they were likely to produce abroad. Therefore, a close British superintendence was placed over the filming crews. This 'close co-operation' was of 'mutual advantage,' as certain aspects like the Round Table Conference, authenticating 'honest intentions of the British' came to be projected, on the one hand, and the filmmakers were able to cater to the growing demands of their market on the other, by acquiring a facilitated entry in India.


Consequently, a large number of documentaries and newsreels were  made on Indian themes by foreign producers. The Indian film-makers did not lag behind. For them it was an unlimited opportunity to project the national leadership and Indian's aspirations towards independence. For the British, however, these documentaries and newsreels featuring Mahatma Gandhi, including Gandhi in England, Gandhi Sees the King, Gandhi's Activities in England and others, soon turned into 'propagandist films pure and simple,' especially when the civil disobedience movement attained its height and had to be banned. The Congress greatly publicized this ban in its newsletters and the national media subjected it to extensive comments, as shown by documents in the Maharashtra State Archives. The Free Press Journal, on 16 December 1932, declared the ban on account of danger posed to the British empire by the Gandhian ideas. The Bombay Chronicle, on 17 December 1932, asserted that the films could be prohibited but not Gandhism. Regional language dailies, Gujarat Mitra and Gujarat Darpan, on 18 December 1932, similarly declared that Gandhism could hardly be destroyed by such activities. The censorship of Indian films and documentaries during these years was so tight that even the framed photographs of national leaders in the background were edited out, according to a 1945 issues of the journal Film India. Similarly, between 1 August 1936 and 31 March 1937, according to the India Office Records, several such films were banned on the grounds that they dealt with controversial politics and were likely to ferment social unrest and discontent in the country.

The Congress ministries, after assuming office, relaxed such blanket bans. it is in such a climate of less stringent censorship of Gandhi and his ideology that the film Gunga Din, caricaturing Gandhi, has to be seen. The cross-currents of imperial arrogance and commercial considerations, in combination with the ideological compulsions of the film, made them ignore the likely impact of caricaturing Gandhi on an Indian audience. Ideologically, the film shows a complex handling of Gandhi as a character. Gandhi's semblance is in the fact evoked to subvert his image and ideology. Gandhi is demystified as hypocritically spiritual while being shrewdly materialistic, violent and self-interested. This portrayal accepted the spiritual India of the past but reasserted the fall of Hinduism - into a ritualized violent cult going under the name of spiritualism - in the present context. This decadence is signified in the person of Gandhi, who, in certain sections of Indian society (among both Muslims and Sikhs) was seen as a Hindu fundamentalist, known to use religion and religious symbols as a rallying point for mobilizing nationalist opinion against the British. His real agenda is shown to be a violent takeover of India and not a non-violent satyagraha, as professed.

It is here that a complete travesty of Gandhian philosophy and his political program was effected. It is well known that the all-India movement of 1921-22 was abruptly and unilaterally called-off at the height of its popularity on 11 February 1922, at Gandhi's instance, following the news of the burning alive of twenty-two policemen by angry peasants at Chauri-Chaura in the Gorakhpur district of the United Provinces on 5 February. This decision was deeply resented by almost all the prominent Congress leaders, including his political heir, Jawaharlal Nehru (as reported in his autobiography), and even more so by the younger people. Gandhi's own defense of this action as stated in his paper, Young India, on 16 February 1922, is revealing: 'I would suffer every humiliation, every torture, absolute ostracism and death itself to prevent the movement from becoming violent.' Gandhi's firm commitment against violence was to surface repeatedly as he continued to make effective use of the weapon of fast-unto-death to end riots and other forms of violence.

Putting an end to an effective, revolutionary and violent situation created widespread dissatisfaction and anger against Gandhi and his methods, which produced a strong internal critique that condemned his non-violent doctrine unequivocally and, at best, made no pretense at understanding it. It also spurred fresh revolutionary terrorism, which climaxed in 1929-30, the year of a whole series of terrorist actions in Punjab and United Provinces towns. The Hindustan Socialist Republican Army, which played havoc with British life and administration in northern India, produced heroes and martyrs, who attained remarkable popularity. For example, Bhagat Singh, who was hanged for his terrorist activities, outranked for a short time even Mahatma Gandhi 'as the foremost political figure of the day in popularity,' as shown by confidential intelligence bureau accounts cited by Sumit Sarkar in Modern India (1985). The emergence of revolutionaries and terrorists as popular heroes and martyrs enormously furthered the cause of Indian nationalism. Yet, Gandhi's abhorrence of violence did not allow him to speak or plead on behalf of political heroes like Bhagat Singh. In fact, Gandhi condemned their violence. Durga Bhabhi, the still-living widow of a compatriot of Bhagat Singh, spoke in a 1997 communication to Uma Chakravarti of her own and widespread anger against Gandhi due to his failure to save nationalists like Bhagat Singh from the gallows by appealing to the viceroy for mercy.

For Gandhi, the doctrine of ahimsa (non-violence) was not only a personal credo and philosophy but was a deeply-felt and worked-out philosophy. As a politician, he was aware that the resultant perspective of controlled mass participation objectively fitted in with the interests and sentiments of socially-divisive sections of the Indian people. It could, for example, prove acceptable to business groups, as well as relatively better-off or locally-dominant sections of the peasantry, all of whom stood to lose if political struggle turned into uninhibited and violent social revolution. The concept of ahimsa and satyagraha, therefore, lay at the heart of the essentially unifying umbrella type role assumed by Gandhi and the Gandhian Congress.

The transformation of Gandhian work and ideology in Gunga Din worked toward exposing Gandhian philosophy to generate latent fears and reservations inherent in certain sections of colonial society. The film, therefore, could well be seen by the different Indian audiences as a deliberate travesty, which went beyond caricature and ridicule towards a motivated misrepresentation. The violent repression of Gandhi's non-violent satyagrahis by the colonial state apparatus during the course of the national movement from the 1920s onwards  was well known in India, as were General Dyer's orders to fire on a peaceful, unarmed crowd in Jallianwala Bagh in Amritsar in 1919. Stories of British violence against Indian nationalists had become part of nationalist folklore.


Rejecting these hard political realities about violence and the perpetrators of violence, according to Shahid Amin's 1984 article 'Gandhi as Mahatma' (published in Subaltern Studies III), the cinematic portrayal took off from the well-acknowledged skepticism of the British about Gandhi's non-violent program and the militant and violent action perpetrated by certain social groups in northern India in the name of Gandhi and his ideology. Even the revolutionaries, very far removed in methods from Gandhi, were known to celebrate their victories by evoking his name. For example, the Chittagong Group of revolutionaries headed by Surjya Sen brought off the most spectacular coup in the entire history of Indian terrorism on 18 April 1930 by seizing the local armory and celebrated it with a cry of 'Gandhiji's Raj has come,' as noted by Sumit Sarkar in Modern India (1985).

The film, therefore, portrayed Gandhi (a real-life Vaishnavite and follower of Bhakti), as a worshipper of Kali, the goddess of violence, believing in the cult of violence and murder, to achieve his surreptitious agenda. The conspiracy to take over the whole of India is shown to be a Hindu conspiracy headed by Gandhi and as much against the British as the Muslims. In the days of the communalization of Indian society and polity this could calculatedly generate great anxiety among the Muslims of India, especially those of the Frontier who had thrown in their lot with the Congress. Significantly, in the elections of 1937, the Congress, designated by the Muslim communalists as a Hindu association and projected by the British as such in the USA, had won an overwhelming majority in seven out of eleven states (and formed coalition governments in two others), which included the Muslim majority state of the Northwest Frontier Province. The Muslim League, which claimed to represent all Muslims, could not get a foothold in any state and was busy propagating the image of a Hindu-dominated India. Gunga Din greatly reinforced such a reading. The NWFP was especially troublesome for the British as it was Gandhi's influence on the Frontier leader, Abdul Gaffar Khan, which had led to the merging of his party, the Khudai Khidmadgar, with the Congress. The film's purely Hindu image of Gandhi and the latent violence of Hindus, not withstanding their minority position in this province, could be used to demystify and denounce his growing influence in the NWFP in particular and among the Muslims in India more generally.

[The foregoing was extracted and slightly edited from Colonial India and the Making of Empire Cinema: Image, Ideology and Identity by Prem Chowdhry (Manchester University Press, 2000), pp. 152-59.]

Monday, December 20, 2010

BCS (Bowl Championship Series) Bowl Games-Dish Network

BCS (Bowl Championship Series) Bowl games on Dish Network are coming up fast. BCS first-timers Oregon and Auburn play for the national championship on Jan 10, 2011 in the Tostitos BCS Championship Game at 8:30 pm live on ESPN.

BCS National Championship Game


Other BCS bowl games to watch are Wisconsin vs TCU in the Rose Bowl, UConn vs Oklahoma in the Fiesta Bowl, Stanford vs Va. Tech in the Orange Bowl and Ohio St vs Arkansas in the Sugar Bowl.

All of the BCS bowl games will be carried on ESPN, channel 140 on DISH. DISH Network customers will be able to enjoy the games in HD  with the America's Top 120 package, DISH's smallest package. Even Dish Network subscribers with this package qualify for "HD Free For Life". You can find out all the details in the Current Offers post.

Enjoy the games!


ESPN- Keys to the BCS National Championship Game




More information about Dish satellite TV sports and other Dish Network TV articles.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Child Development in the Media Age

In 'Kinderculture: The Corporate Construction of Childhood,' educational theorists Joe Kincheloe and Shirley Steinberg assemble a collection of essays on children and the commodification of identity. They bring together a number of contemporary scholars of education, psychology and sociology into an interdisciplinary study of children’s popular culture and its implications for schooling and child development. Steinberg and Kincheloe introduce the essays with a chapter entitled ‘No More Secrets: Kinderculture, Information Saturation, and the Postmodern Childhood.’ The basic premise in their introduction is that the ‘information age’ has radically altered childhood, especially in the US but also in places adopting the American way of life, to the point that even the most basic assumptions underlying education and psychology are hopelessly outdated.

Much of modern schooling is premised on the belief that children can be initiated into the adult world through rationally constructed 'stages of development,' with parents and teachers controlling access to the adult world. But television, computers and much of social life in modern consumer societies blurs the distinctions upon which this premise is built. In the postmodern media world, children are often more familiar with adult subjects – even traditionally taboo topics like sex and drugs – than many adults. Parents and teachers in particular still often treat children as essentially protected from the ‘real world,’ even though that world is laid open for all to see by way of the increasingly pervasive electronic media technologies. With an ironic twist on a 1960s idiom, Steinberg and Kincheloe suggest that ‘the revolution... has been televised, brought to you and your children in vivid Technicolor.’

The authors outline their thesis that it is the mega-media corporations who are constructing and benefiting from the postmodern child: ‘Using fantasy and desire, corporate functionaries have created a perspective on late-twentieth-century culture that melds with business ideologies and free-market values. The worldviews produced by corporate advertisers to some degree always let children know that the most exciting things life can provide are produced by your friends in corporate America. The economics lesson is powerful when it is repeated hundreds of thousands of times.’ As an antidote to this corporate indoctrination, Steinberg and Kincheloe recommend a form of ‘media literacy’ for parents and teachers, with the goal of exposing ‘the corporate curriculum and its social and political effects.’ The rest of the book is this thesis put into practice, with essays on various aspects of the corporate constructed childhood (or what they term as ‘kinderculture’), from film and television to magazines and video games.

Professor of education Henry Giroux contributes a chapter asking, ‘Are Disney Movies Good for Your Kids?’ His inquiry into the global entertainment corporation was sparked by watching Disney movies with his own children. Like most parents, Giroux assumed that Disney films were relatively harmless entertainment. But by watching more carefully, he noticed that Disney reproduces many of the more racist and sexist beliefs and practices of modern American society. Giroux’s analysis is sophisticated, and he is careful not to fall into the trap of the American Christian Right, who see all sorts of (often ridiculous) conspiracies in Disney features. Rather, Giroux believes that, due to its power as a cultural icon, Disney ought to be taken seriously by scholars and its productions critically analyzed. After analytically viewing some Disney films of the day, such as ‘The Little Mermaid,’ ‘Aladdin,’ ‘Beauty and the Beast,’ ‘The Lion King,’ and others, Giroux concludes that ‘cultural workers and educators need to insert the political and pedagogical back into the discourse of entertainment.’ He also suggests that parents and educators make Disney accountable for what it produces, citing the example of Muslim and Arab organizations in the US who protested and succeeded in getting Disney to modify some of its racist caricatures in the animated feature film, ‘Aladdin.’

Like Giroux, educational psychologist Eleanor Blair Hilty takes a cue from her own child’s television viewing habits and provides a critical reading of two popular educational television programs, ‘Barney’ and ‘Sesame Street.’ Concerned about the unexamined perception among parents and teachers that such programs are somehow ‘educationally valuable,’ she found that a major problem with shows like ‘Sesame Street’ is that they promote passive learning. Hilty extends her discussion of educational television by suggesting that parents and teachers ought to engage the current debates on public TV by asking ‘whether public television is functioning for the public good,’ and identifying ‘who determines the goodness and worth of these programs.’

Media scholar Douglas Kellner weighs in with an essay on a popular Music Television (MTV) series of the 1990s, ‘Beavis and Butt-head,’ which continues to air on some MTV clones in Asia. Noticing that his students made frequent reference to the series, Kellner watched every episode for two years, from its premiere in 1993 until 1995. His analysis, versions of which have appeared in a number of books and journals (most notably his 1995 book Media Culture), is erudite and wide-ranging. Like many other authors in Kinderculture, Kellner is careful not to write off popular culture as unworthy of scholarly study. While he sees ‘Beavis and Butt-head’ as a metaphor for the downward mobility of American middle class white youth, Kellner also succeeds in identifying both the reactionary and subversive elements of the series. For example, under all the bathroom humor and adolescent hooliganism of the series, Kellner finds some wry critiques of many of the more repressive and irrational aspects of American society. But at the same time, ‘Beavis and Butt-head’ also reproduces some of the most dangerous sexist and racist attitudes of contemporary American society. To pass beyond this analytic juncture, Kellner utilizes a method which seeks to find a third way of reading corporate media productions, complementing and complicating the ‘dominant paradigms [that] either theorize media effects as direct and manipulative or privilege the role of the audience in constructing meaning.’

The chapters in Kinderculture continue with similar analytical readings of other popular children’s media fare, with chapters on such diverse topics as video games and interactive media, ‘Mighty Morphin Power Rangers’ (as an example of what the author of that chapter calls ‘the aesthetics of phallo-militaristic justice’), horror fiction (in particular the ‘Goosebumps’ series of stories), children’s magazines, trading cards and ‘Barbie’ dolls. Each essay contributes a piece to the creation of a clearer picture of corporate America as an increasingly powerful force in constructing contemporary childhood. Taken as a whole, Kinderculture reveals a third force in the media that joins (and even undermines) the traditional sites of child development in families and schools.

These connections are perhaps most apparent in the last chapter, featuring Kincheloe’s essay on the global junk food conglomerate, McDonald’s. Recalling his own childhood, Kincheloe reflects on how his family was in a sense programmed by McDonald’s ‘regulation of customer behavior’ through its carefully designed facilities and exceedingly enticing advertising. In reading McDonald’s advertising, Kincheloe concludes that the ‘greatest irony of these ads is that even as they isolate the family from any economic connections they promote the commodification of family life.’ This final chapter also includes some concluding remarks in which Kincheloe suggests that the main purpose of Kinderculture is to expose the machinations of power involved in shaping culture and consciousness:
'Few Americans think in terms of how power interests in the larger society regulate populations to bring about desired behaviors. In America and other Western societies political domination shifted decades ago from police or military forces to the use of cultural messages. Such communications are designed to win the approval or consent of citizens for the actions taken by power elites. The contributors to this book in their own particular ways are involved in efforts to expose the specifics of this process of cultural domination.'
Upon first glance, it may seem that Kinderculture might only be relevant to American parents and educators. But with global media networks invading every corner of the planet, American culture is in many ways becoming global culture. This is of concern to peoples throughout the Third World, wherever they may live. Disney films, or television series like ‘Sesame Street,’ ‘Barney’ and ‘Power Rangers’ (which actually originated in Japan) are translated into dozens of languages throughout Asia. McDonald’s has set up franchises in most major cities throughout the Third World. Many satellite TV stations worldwide air MTV (or one of its clones like Star TV in Asia). American media conglomerates are among the largest publishers of textbooks and educational materials worldwide (which besides contributing to the hegemony of Western knowledge also maintains English as a global language). Barbie dolls are marketed throughout Asia and Africa (in appropriately ‘multicultural’ versions). The list could go on but the conclusion is clear: Kinderculture is going global fast. While some parents and consumer groups have quite admirably concerned themselves with the overtly racist aspects of American media culture, there is much less activity toward trying to understand some of the more subtle indoctrinating forces at work on their consciousness. This useful collection of essays will likely provide much needed insight into the more insidious (but no less damaging) aspects of the American-directed corporate construction of childhood. This, in turn, may enable activists and teachers throughout the Third World to develop an array of locally-grounded individual and collective initiatives and responses to what can only be seen as a pervasive affront to human dignity and intelligence.
From the Book
Page 26: What often inhibits understanding of the pedagogical power of popular culture in general and kinderculture in particular involve the society’s failure to recognize that power plays an exaggerated role in the shaping of personal experiences. This relationship is so apparent that it is often lost in its obviousness. Power produces images of the world and the people who inhabit it that make meaning for those who receive the images. The films, books, video games, and TV shows of kinderculture shape the way white children, for example, understand the poor and racially marginalized – and in turn how they a white people come to recognize their own privilege. Language patterns connect with this production of images to reinforce power’s influence, its ability to provide the context in which children encounter the world. The advent of electronic hyperreality has revolutionized the ways knowledge is produced in ths culture and the ways children come to learn about the world. Parents and educators need to appreciate the nature of this revolution and its role in identity formation. Simple condemnation of kinderculture accompanied by calls for censorship is insufficient; equally ineffective is a policy of benign neglect. Concerned individuals should begin with an attempt to understand these dynamics in all their complexity and ambiguity, followed by an effort to involved themselves in the public conversation about them. In this context adults may come to appreciate the fact that postmodern children’s confusion and identity disorientation may be a reasonable reaction to the incongruity between kinderculture’s and schooling’s positioning of children.

Further Reading
Consumers Association of Penang, How TV Affects Your Child’s Development (2007).
Steve D. Derne, Globalization on the Ground: New Media and the Transformation of Culture, Class, and Gender in India (Sage Publications, 2008).
Ariel Dorfman, How to Read Donald Duck: Imperialist Ideology in the Disney Comic (International General, 1984).
Henry Giroux, The Mouse That Roared: Disney and the End of Innocence (Rowman Littlefield, 2001).
John de Graaf, Affluenza: The All-Consuming Epidemic (Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 2005).
Linda Haas, From Mouse to Mermaid: The Politics of Film, Gender, and Culture (Indiana University Press, 1995).
Donaldo Macedo, Media Literacy: A Reader (Peter Lang Publishing, 2007).
Neil Postman, The Disappearance of Childhood (Vintage Random House, 1994).
Eugene Provenzo, Video Kids: Making Sense of Nintendo (Harvard University Press, 1994).
Usha Rodrigues, Youth, Media and Culture in the Asia Pacific Region (Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2008).
Juliet B. Schor, Born to Buy: The Commercialized Child and the New Consumer Culture (Scribner, 2005).
Shirley R. Steinberg, Christotainment: Selling Jesus through Popular Culture (Westview Press, 2009).
[Kinderculture: The Corporate Construction of Childhood was first published by Westview Press in 1997, with a 2nd edition appearing in 2004 and a third edition due out in 2011. This review is extracted and slightly edited from Books for Critical Consciousness by J. Progler (Penang, Malaysia: Citizens International, 2010), and it is dedicated to the memory of the late Joe L. Kincheloe (1950-2008). Shirley Steinberg is currently the director of The Paulo and Nita Freire International Project for Critical Pedagogy.]