In his arms he has a pile of galleys; he sets them down gently, as if the slightest jolt could upset the order of the printed letters. “A publishing house is a fragile organism, dear sir,” he says, “If at any point something goes askew, then the disorder spread, chaos opens beneath our feet. Forgive me, won’t you? When I think about it I have an attack of vertigo.” And he covers his eyes, as if pursued by the sight of billions of pages, lines, words, whirling in a dust storm.’

- Italo Calvino, If on a winter’s night a traveler, 1981 [1979], pp. 97-98

photo credit: anyjazz65

In the context of the dissertation, I’ve been thinking a fair bit about textual cyborgs, the speculative field of reader-book interaction, and how this could relate to Tim’s excellent post on cyborg infrastructure. Here, the above quote from Calvino definitely resonates, but I’m still not sure what it all means …

Dating back to November 2009, this talk by Stuart Candy resonates at an incredibly similar frequency to where my head is right now. Highly recommended.

So, not only am I attempting an essay that links Stuart’s examples of experiential futuring, the wunderkammer, and public sociology, but I’m also in the early stages of some kind of design fiction slash media futures thing with two other MA students from Goldsmiths – and it’s probably the most fired up I’ve been since the end of Superstruct. For more on both project and essay, watch this space.

*

*

“Nobody has a job. Everybody has a set of contracts. Some keep you in the same place for eight hours with the same coworkers five days a week, but it isn’t a job. A job requires benefits. A job requires taxes be paid by an employer. As a subcontracting entity you’re paid to pay your own taxes, to waive your own minimum wage requirements, your own working time directives. You are management. You don’t rent, you pay fractional reserve interest on a 99-year heritable lease entity that sublets your front room as storage space to a distributed shop. Every Saturday you pack boxes in your hall to tell other people how they can make a fortune out of the new economic climate by packing boxes in their hall. There are more guns in the world than there are people who can read properly. You ride a bus to the building that is your ‘office’. It used to be a hotel, when people could afford to go to other countries that weren’t over the road. You need a passport stamp to visit your mother. You don’t need a passport stamp to visit your father. You have six identity cards. You broke your leg in school and as a result can’t join a library. If there was still a library open near you you couldn’t even go in it. Instead you just can’t login.

Every morning when you get onto the number 27 you sit in the window and watch the UAVs circle over the shanty town in the park. You have extensive scarring on your left shoulder where the man next to you was extrajudicially assassinated when you used to get the number 26. Your ex-boyfriend left a camera in your shower, and you only found out when his ex sued for a share of the earnings, naming you as a witness. Your best friend Jane and you have a tradition. Every new year you buy another lock for her front door, fit it beside the others, then drink vodka until you vomit blood. You fight, and don’t talk again until christmas …”

- erithromycin, ‘Re: Cyberpunk in 2008‘, RPG.net, 28/06/2008

This week, one of my friends from undergrad was down in London. She’s studying for a PhD on the mating behaviour of massive scary ants, and was learning how to radio-tag insects as a guest of ZSL. Having been woken by the fire alarm test an hour after the start of my Wednesday morning American Lit seminar, I needed exciting animals and zoological facts to cheer me up – so legged it across town to meet her at London Zoo. Hence the photo, which is sufficiently odd to stand as an illustration of Week 8:

photo credit: jfpickard

Course notes follow, below the cut.

Digital Media – Critical Perspectives

Photography, digital and otherwise. Working from the introductory essay in Lister’s The Photographic Image in Digital Culture (1995), we zoomed in on the celebratory discourses of digital photography … in which the change from analogue to digital is posited as ‘startling’, ‘powerful’ and ‘epochal’ … a paradigm shift.

Here, it’s all too easy to read the digital image as an unprecedented fusion of the imagined and the real, but really there’s nothing particularly new about all this. Yes, we’ve shifted our attention from the camera-as-prosthetic eye to ‘the small grey, plastic box of the personal computer’ (p. 3) and we might be living under Sontag’s image-based economy. But this is all linguistic/discursive!

Digital photography is still photography; part of an 150-year old photographic culture. Lister comments on the way in which digital photography has become entangled with ‘a heady mixture of millenarian futurology, the visionary excesses of postmodern thought, and of utopian premise and cultural pessimism.’ (p. 5) Supposedly ‘traditional’ (analogue) photographic images are cast as indexical; slavish (subordinate) mirrors/copies of the Real. With analogue edits, there’ll always be a trace or stain – some evidence of tampering with the indexicality of the image.

Semiotics: links between signifier and signified are arbitrary … culturally constructed! Notions of indexicality serve to naturalise the cultural connotations (meaning) of the photo; the illusion of immediacy can be used to conceal the tacit assumptions and ideology of the image. Historically, photography has held a powerful position as an evidential practice. Think of photographs in the legal, medical, and photojournalistic realms. John Tagg’s Burden of Representation (1993).

Barthes’ Camera Lucida (1980) talks about photography as an affective (emotional-physiological) medium. What does my body know of photography? Punctum (detail) – the emotive immediacy of a photographical detail. The power of something that resonates, or ‘leaps out at you’. Think of the girl in the red coat in Schindler’s List (1993).

Digital photography parcelled with postmodernism – a collapsed sense of temporality; an emergent schizophrenia. The spatio-temporal manipulations of the digital, of images that no longer function in relation to science … abstracted from light, film, chemistry – are we looking at the death of optics? Remediation! It’s not as if analogue photography has disappeared. Plus, digital photography is still informed by the legacies of the analogue – there continues to be a language, a grammar of (effective/good) photography.

Mechanical/optical media were a historical phase in visual media. Perhaps the analogue photograph was an anomaly; a ‘raw’ indexicality sandwiched between the oil painting and the photo-manipulation? Yet the metadata of digital photography stands as an extended (and more powerful) form of indexicality. From a Flickr photo, you can deduce the camera make, date taken, and (sometimes) even the geographical location: it’s all embedded in the image-as-data.

Peripheral to, but illustrative of, the shift from analogue –> digital, we have Foucauldian interpretations of  Jeremy Bentham’s notion of the panopticon. Photography & the lens, the gaze … as an instrument of power, of science, in criminology, medicine, psychiatry … a way of making truth claims (Gunning). Relationships between the observer and the object of scrutiny?

((ASIDE: In one of the Anth & Representation seminars, Graeber raised an interesting and … surprisingly local line of enquiry – springing from the fact that the earliest manifestation (inspiration?) of the panopticon concept was in the schemes of the philosopher’s brother, Sir Samuel Bentham, who’d commissioned the construction of a prototypical ‘Inspection House’ on Prince Potemkin’s estate in Russia. Later, Sir Samuel was also in charge of improvements made to the docks at Deptford in 1799 – a short walk from the current location of Goldsmiths College. There’s probably some kind of alternate history here, where a better-funded Bentham turns Deptford & Greenwich into a pre-steampunk, pseudo-totalitarian naval/mercantile super-panopticon … Say, that’d be pretty good fun to write about. Hold that thought!

Oh, and for another alternate history of panopticism, check out Tony Jones’ exemplary exercise in world-building; Cliveless World))

Following the shift to digital, Cascio’s notion of the participatory panopticon. When photos can be faked, the best measure of veracity is through plurality – if an Event (with-a-capital-E) occurs, there will be multiple photos, from the camera phones of participants and observers (participant observation?). Think Eyeborg …

… that photo from the London bombings, and – perhaps most strikingly – the human wall of camera screens at Obama’s inaugural Youth Ball …

image provenance hard to find, due to the crazy Sontagian circulation & reproduction of images – but I’m inclined to credit Reuters staff photographer Kevin Lamarque

21st Century American Fiction

Security, by Stephen Amidon. Not great literature, nor particularly original – but interesting, likeable and skillfuly written. From the Washington Post review -

“What a freak show,” a character in Stephen Amidon’s Security remarks of another’s unstable father after a humiliating scene. Although the speaker herself is detestable, an irredeemable villain, her comment lays bare the deepest fears of Amidon’s people: that their messy private lives will burst into public view. But because the author is a nimble satirist, we can count on such disruptions, as readers of his fine Human Capital already know.

On the surface, these characters aren’t remarkable or odd, and neither is the setting, the quiet Berkshire town of Stoneleigh, but the major players are in crisis: Edward Inman, proprietor of a home security firm, hasn’t slept in weeks and roams the night rather than share a bed with his wife, Meg. Kathryn, his old flame, is trying to reconnect with her college dropout son, Conor. And Walt Steckl, formerly a master electrician, takes painkillers and drinks to quiet his nerves, which were fried in a workplace accident.

(…)

Despite the improbable endgame and an over-reliance on types among his supporting cast — the preoccupied wife, the creepy snob, the sullen teen — the novel succeeds as an entertainment. It’s well-paced and always engaging, if occasionally broad. Thematically, like any good satire, it presents a cautionary tale and dares us to find ourselves in it, and because Amidon is such a fine writer, we do. As in Human Capital, he once again displays his unerring facility for sniffing out the shaky foundations of our lives, showing us what we will selfishly renounce — trust, intimacy, integrity, reality — to achieve what we believe is an impregnable security.

Taken alongside Ellis’ Lunar Park (see previous week), Amidon’s novel sheds light on a very specific current within 21st century American fiction – something related to the spatialities of suburbia, focusing in on the unstable and arbitrary foundations of our domesticity, and containing some (limited?) form of social critique. It’s probably too early to see quite how this’ll develop, but I think we can also see something similar in American TV dramas like Desperate Housewives, Weeds, and architectural competitions such as Reburbia. There’s an anxiety here; a precariousness which seems worthy of further investigation.

Anthropology & Representation

As far as I can make out, something to do with the phenomenology of giant puppets? Violence, myth, and narrative in the (alter-)globalisation movement. We’re talking Battle of Seattle, protests against the Iraq War, and – slightly more jovially – the Burning Man Festival and the Paperhand Puppet Intervention. The puppets really annoy the police, but why?

We need to think about the relationship between puppets and monuments. Questions of memory, identity and permanence/transience. Perhaps they stand as a pastiche or parody of the monumental; something to do with totems, fetishes and the carnivalesque; boundaries between the sacred and the profane; or the uncanny valley? How about conspiracy theories – puppets mirror the relations of power; it’s an appropriate deployment because we (they?) are the puppets? The processes of puppet-construction as an act of community-formation. A literal embodiment of the man-made-of-many-men of Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan … the body politic.

Urban protests as a manifestation of symbolic (asymmetric) warfare. The media as a platform for a conflict of symbolic systems. Guy Debord’s Society of the Spectacle (1967). The violence of representation? Denigration of enemies (of the state?) as ‘trust fund kids’. A Black Bloc ethics, rooted in concepts of value – where it’s verboten to attack family-owned stores, but the symbols of transnational capitalism (McDonalds, Starbucks) are fair game. Rules of engagement, different for the cops (do anything necessary to contain the chaos, but don’t kill people) and the protesters (violence against capital, against property … harm everything but people). Carl Schmitt & post-Westphalian, urban warfare.

Narrative frames lifted from Hollywood, mass media, fiction – protest as an orgy of destruction. Replicated in music festivals, public holidays, Guy Fawkes’ Night … as a sublimation of the carnivalesque into popular culture(s) of destruction.

photo credit: BellaBim

For me, Transhuman Space is a key text – a book that’s had a wholly disproportionate impact on the shape of my life. An RPG setting published to critical acclaim in 2002, it stood as a plausible vision of where humanity might be at the turn of the twenty-second century:

“It’s the year 2100. Humans have colonized the solar system. China and America struggle for control of Mars. The Royal Navy patrols the asteroid belt. Nanotechnology has transformed life on Earth forever, and gene-enhanced humans share the world with artificial intelligences and robotic cybershells. Our solar system has become a setting as exciting and alien as any interstellar empire. Pirate spaceships hijacking black holes . . . sentient computers and artificial “bioroids” demanding human rights . . . nanotechnology and mind control . . . Transhuman Space is cutting-edge science fiction adventure that begins where cyberpunk ends.”

Stumbling across a copy in my local bookshop as a wide-eyed 16-year old, Transhuman Space was my first encounter with the ideas of transhumanism, morphological freedom and ubiquitous computing.

It blew my tiny teenage mind.

What did you get for your money? A plausible timeline for the next hundred years; headline pieces on the exploration of space & transformation of humanity; a gazetteer of the solar system; an encyclopedia of technologies, memes, and influential organisations; suggestions as to the kind of characters who might inhabit this future; a bibliography of suggested reading; and – tacked on the end – 32 pages of rules (GURPS Lite).

For me, the heart of the book was in the short bursts of fiction which opened each chapter; the character quotations and throwaway facts which gave the setting such a powerful sense of scale and complexity. While there wasn’t an opportunity to run a game in the Transhuman Space setting while at sixth form (our group’s attentions firmly distracted by tales of Lovecraftian horror), I tracked down a bunch of the supplements – thumbing their pages until the bindings dissolved.

I still have the soft-covers of High Frontier, Fifth Wave, Broken Dreams, and Toxic Memes. The last two had been penned by Jamais Cascio, which put me onto his more “serious” consulting work in scenario design and futures studies. Before, I couldn’t have imagined that this existed as a distinct subject, let alone someone’s job. Indirectly, Transhuman Space had provided a blueprint for adulthood (“Futurist / Sci-Fi Author”)  and a highly effective way to confuse and alienate career advisors (“You want to be a what?”).

This was my gateway to the work of Stross, McDonald, Doctorow, Sterling and Gibson. It gave me Ghost in the Shell, got me behind-the-scenes on Superstruct, and was the first step on the road to the Masters degree in Digital Media that I’ll be starting later this month.

Oh, and I did get to plot and run two mini-campaigns in the Transhuman Space universe:

• Running for a couple of weeks in summer 2005, Orbital focused on the attempts of a Spanish business heiress to keep up with payments on her spacecraft loan with the income from collecting space junk and running errands for building contractors in LEO. Simultaneously, she has to deal with the increasingly erratic “ghost” of a lovesick Indian aerospace engineer – who committed suicide by “uploading” his personality into her vehicle’s mainframe. The two of them got caught up in the attempts of a shadowy business conglomerate to clear squatters from a potentially lucrative piece of orbital real estate by “arranging” for its collision with a fake Indian telecommunications satellite.

• Still Waters (2007-08) involved a group of community-funded “public eyes” (citizen journalists / bloggers) operating out of Duluth, who get caught up in the media frenzy over the town’s first murder in over a decade – a decapitated investigative journalist, washed up on the shore of Lake Superior. Aided and abetted by an incomplete (and intensely paranoid) rendering of the victim’s consciousness, our team are forced to confront the fact that, not only did the journalist suspect that something like this might happen, but that the data trail (surveillance footage, digital logs, etc.) seems have been tampered with by the authorities.

Both seemed to gather layers of detail and additional complexity at a dizzying speed, collapsing under the weight of planning and obligations of real life. And for those of you who are interested, a selection of other Transhuman Space story premises can be found in the various editions of Personnel Files, each of which is available in digital form for the price of a pint. They’re good inspiration for all you sci-fi types, if nowt else.

‘I imagine attention festivals: week-long multimedia, cross-industry carnivals of readings, installations, and performances, where you go from a tent with 30-second films, guitar solos, 10-minute video games, and haiku to the tent with only Andy Warhol movies, to a myriad of venues with other media forms and activities requiring other attention lengths. In the Nano Tent, you can hear ringtones and read tweets. A festival organized not by the forms of the commodities themselves but of the experience of interacting with them. Not organized by time elapsed, but by cognitive investment: a pop song, which goes by quickly, can resonate for days; a poem, which can go by more quickly, sticks through a season. A festival in which you can see images of your brain on knitting and on Twitter.’

Whoever Michael Huges & Damien Wake actually are, I’ll hold on to the vague hope that they live in a hollowed-out volcano, and have an army of overall-clad mooks to do their bidding.

From their description:

“These 3000 ft mobile tower-cranes toddle towards suburban communities where they proceed to drill deep footings at the center of their cores into the earth and outstretch their tripod legs over a 2000 ft radius of suburb. The crane tears out homes from their plots and shelves them in 60 floors of open floor plates.  Breaking it up into five sub neighborhoods, commercial/public floors are packed full of the big box stores and strip malls that sustain residential communities …”

This got me thinking about how much I’d like to see Prince Charles take on one of these beasties!

“ELEVATED GEOTHERMAL NEIGHBORHOOD  SMASH PUNY ROYAL!” *stomp*

… And then I remembered some notes for something vaguely relevant, lurking at the back of a notebook -

[Micro-pitch: THE PHYSIOCRATS]

Set in a cyberpunk (ribofunk?) Duchy of Cornwall following the near-total collapse of suburbia, this [comic? TV mini-series? novella? machinima?] puts the reader/viewer in the heart of the conflict between the moneyed members of the pluto-gerontocratic military-agricultural-biotech complex and the last remaining fragments of the disenfranchised rural refusniks in a series of final skirmishes for the very heart & soul of the British countryside!

*dramatic chord!*

• Alistair Parvin‘s Agri-Noir facilities in white plastic, chlorophyll, and photovoltaic blue …
• Citizen journalists unearthing corporate espionage in the vat-grown meat industry …
• Rogue combine harvesters churning through suburbia’s greening ruins …
• Eurocrats turning a blind eye to organic biscuits made from people …
• The dodgy pharming practices at the heart of a highly contagious cross-species pandemic …

Basically, I think we’re looking at Gothic Hi-Tech (cf. Bruce Sterling) with silage & giant chickens. It’s Ghost in the Shell meets Countryfile, as a six-part mini-series.

“The future” is and always was a map of a fake territory. It is entertainment. However, without any map at all we become paralyzed, so even a fake map can provide initial direction, even if it is rarely ultimately the right direction. Thus “futures” survive. Willy Lee rockets boldly charted out intergalactic federation before a nation came together and reached upwards. Cyberjockeys first jacked across a new world’s neon constellations, created new myths to sail by, tentative models to take to the money people. The future promised Star Wars, I-Robots, and Cybertopia – we got decaying red stars, automation, and Google.

But now we are seduced by ever sexier futures and dwindling soundbite-sized “now”, all whilst history is regooded — the signified is stripped from signifiers, packed into a brochure and McDonaldized. We become blind to history and its non-linearity. Thus our pattern seeking mind fabricates theories, draws whatever lines it can on the last two data points: this quarter’s report, this season’s pants, this election cycle’s buzz issue, the last 140 characters, today’s housing price index.

]]> http://justinpickard.net/2009/06/zero-history/feed/ 0 http://justinpickard.net/2009/05/open-money-you-aint-seen-nothing-ye/ http://justinpickard.net/2009/05/open-money-you-aint-seen-nothing-ye/#comments Mon, 04 May 2009 02:59:06 +0000 Justin http://justinpickard.net/?p=788 Picture this.

“After a particularly vicious flame war, the OpenPound community forked.  Now, I’ve got 12 hours to decide whether to leave my O£ where it is, and watch my user account depreciate by 20% / fortnight, or take the opportunity to convert the whole lot into ORG-endorsed EuroBonds and a 3-month ZipCar subscription.”

Hmm.  Video below.

Through communicating & mediating my experiences of the game to the other conference attendees (representatives of some of the big organizations in the economy and public sphere), in an environment heavy and humid with ambient information, I was able to link up some ideas that have been floating in the recesses of my consciousness, assembling and superstructing them in interesting ways.

Before the event in question, I was in San Francisco for a good 6-7 days – immersing myself in the city, and scoping out the lay of the land.  At once strange and familiar (embodied above and beyond my experience of the city through film and the media), the real San Francisco threw my mediated experiences into focus – the American sitcoms syndicated endlessly on British TV are now five, ten years out of date. This, then, is an emerging social imaginary; a land of corporate bail-outs, green-collar jobs and (as @mathpunk was later to tell me) hybrid hypermiling – in which we can see the overwhelming drive of the competitive, of the concrete challenge … even when it risks endangering the self.

In this light, the ad pictured (CC Jason Tester) threw the reason for my trip into sharp focus.  Damn near ubiquitious in the urban landscape, this ad functions perfectly adequately on the business level.  Stripped of context, however, “I want my future back” is a curious comment, prompting discomfort and unease.  It doesn’t sit right.  Can you be deprived of something that has only ever existed in a nascent / spectral form?

In an age of instability and #collapsonomics, the “I want my future back” is an act of denial – rejecting the world at hand for the attachments and psychological crutches of neoliberalism’s legacy future.  So we watch as the flying cars and dogmas of unending growth evaporate into mist; dispersed as droplets dispersed on the breeze.  And it’s good riddance to bad rubbish … the cancerous … the autoimmunity writ large (pdf).  Let it fail.  Rip it out and start over.  Pessimism is a luxury of good times, and we can do better.

If there’s one thing I took away from the Ten-Year Forecast, it was a reinforced sense of optimism.  What follows is a series of notes taken from the retreat, superstructed with additional links and ideas I’ve been gestating since the game’s conclusion last November.  Sharing a common theme (“superstructing“), they aren’t in any particular order, and stand as part of a larger (and perpetually unfinished) work.  Still, I’m starting to get a sense of forward momentum … and that’s awesome.

NOTES & THOUGHTS:

• With access to ideas from education and positive psychology, we can visualize the ways it’s possible to get the biggest bang for your buck.  If alternative currencies can achieve this, multiplying the velocity of exchange by experimenting with optimal limits for the field of action – the same should be possible for social, societal and organizational efforts … regardless of the scale or nature of agents involved.

• With an increasing emphasis on the importance of playtests and rapid prototyping for organization, we should be looking to master the formerly inconcievable – transplanting the scientific method to the social sciences.  Lessons to be taken from behavioural economics, simulation and LARP .  As ideas of experimentation and the perpetual Beta seep into the mainstream, “economies of agility” are likely to replace “economies of scale”.  Unfinished is good, as long as it’s also quick and relatively open.

• Self-sufficient and atomistic forms of organisation enable the maximum possibility for combination and recombination … think Lego [CC Don Solo] … or the “Orange” scenario from this PWC publication (pdf) about the future of work & HR.  Here, “cells” come together to fulfil missions / complete work contracts, and then disperse back into the cloud.  Of course, if changes of corporate culture are poorly managed, this could have its downsides … and is open to manipulation by entrenched interests and the risk-averse.  Could poorly-managed change be worse than no change?

• “Stigmergy” as a structural enabler for extreme-scale collaboration, as in GroundCrew … with its effectiveness multiplied by the abundance of iPhones and Androids … hyperlocal volunteering?  An emerging gift economy of the act?  Archetypes of collaboration  (underground railroad, pony express).  Growing importance of symbolic and social capital for quickly emerging communities.  Notions of affiliation and the formation of collective identities.  As one example, see The Quest for the Flag – a ralleying point for the online community around upcoming Funcom MMORPG The Secret World.

• Increasingly, the dominant metaphors will no longer be  digital or mechanical, but biological.  Instead of the brain being described in relations to a computer, we’ll be looking to liken computers to brains (neural networks, artificial intelligence), and organisations to organisms.  Indeed, we could also be looking at cross-species politics and the posthumanities.  What happens when society incorporates cable-laying ferrets, termite architecture, biomimetics, cetaceans as data-gatherers, social networks for dogs, monkey labour, cyborg insects and the Center for Post-Natural History.  Growth in “soft” cyborgs, and the definition of citizenship and humanity is stretched from every direction.  Questions of empathy, symbiosis, parasitism and exploitation?  Meanwhile, what can the natural world teach us about superstructing?  With the coral reef as a model, we can start to get a handle on what cross-species politics might actually look like:

• Minimalist (economic, social) narratives recast people as raw infrastructure, rather than raw labour.  How will traditionally-minded Marxists  deal with a world of decentralised production (“home fabrication“) and radically networked citizenship?  How will the ability to “grow our own everything” clash with forms of proprietry ownership and rights management (digital and otherwise)?  Emergence and development of alternative property regimes, from p2p blueprint networks to viral sovereignty and overt infosocialism.

• Growing likelihood of a “generational reality gap” – with millennials leveraging augmented & superstructed realities, leaving their parents and grandparents unable to make the necessary mental leap?  New and different “digital divides“, as the technologies become increasingly diverse and niche-ified.  Problems of standards and interoperability?  How does living in an echo chamber effect sociability / communication?  Simulations, datamancy, information visualization as part of the SEHI‘s toolbox.  For a better grasp on what this means, check out the Signtific video:

• Corporate concerns increasingly influenced by notions of risk and precariousness.  What role is there for the firm in #collapsonomics?  How should be preparing our young people for a world of uncertainty and instability?  Within our organisations, should be pursuing gradual, organic reform or revolutionary transformation?  How can we tackle the entrenched power and influence of the risk averse?  Perhaps the black swans and black elephants of our current moment are as pinatas – we have to break them into pieces small enough to work with; to reassemble / assimilate into the superstructed organizations of the next decade.

____________

‘Stateside Superstructing, Some Notes’ by Justin Pickard is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-Share Alike 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.

(Images by jfpickard, Jason Tester, and Don Solo)