Fan studies: The different and the revisionist

You can’t have PCA without a fan studies panel. Better yet, if you are in anyway interested in fan studies, this is the spot of the week. My first stop was a session titled “Counting and recounting the players in fan culture.”. The three panelists, all from Old Dominion U, discussed fandoms from the perspectives of marketing, transmedia storytelling, and ACA-Fandom.” Of these presentations, I was particularly interested in marketing, and ACA-Fandom.

In terms of marketing, Diane Cooke, from ODU discussed the role of fan communities as marketing tools. This is a fascinating subject for me, as I am most interested in about the intersection between fandoms and corporate cultures. In the textual poachers model, fandom is about establishing a moral economy, which necessarily pits fans and corporate interest. However, I find myself often thinking that it can’t be that simple. Nothing ever is, and this is why I chose to study fans who interact in spaces that are furnished by corporations. Diane Cooke’s presentation addressed a related topic. Based on the work of Peter Morville, she suggested the “Markets are conversations.” Furthermore, the corporate players involved in these conversations are actually tying to be responsive.

Now, that kind of statement would not fly under the transgressive, textual poacher model. “What do you mean corporate players are trying to be responsive? Don’t you realize that whenever they get involved in anything, they wreck it?”

That may be so, but I’m a pragmatist. Fan communities are no longer marginal to the way in which the culture industries operate (BTW… that’s also a Jenkism). Rather, fans are really seen as valuable brand advocates, which is why D. Cooke’s presentation was so engaging for me. Her project was about mapping fan conversations about the release of the Beatles Rock Band game, and it uses a rhizomatic perspective.

Now, if you’re not familiar with rhizomes, or you know them in another context, perhaps, they are a metaphor for complexity. Deleuze and Guattari came up with it, and they used it to explain how we can construct knowledge, and understand complex phenomena. Rhizomes are essentially surface roots, which spread in different directions. The analyst and the critic of culture would be well advised to follow the rhizomes, wherever they may lead. In this sense, rhizomatic theory is different than other philosophical perspectives about knowledge. Rhizomatics is about connections and disruptions, whereas the more traditional way of understanding knowledge is about specialization and deep respect for authority.

What makes rhizomes so well suited for projects that map web-based interaction is precisely this idea of surface, and even unpredictability. In nature, you can’t really predict where a rhizome will go (yes, rhizomes are real. They are actual roots… next time you go to the grocery store and pick up ginger root, you should know that’s a rhizome). In an online environment, you can’t predict what will become a meme, be forgotten, lay dormant and then re-emerge, be taken at face value, or what impact any of it may have. If anything, you can follow a phenomena, and you can map it and describe it, but you can’t expect to fully comprehend it.

“The rhizome is huge, so how can you maintain conversations?” That was one take away from Cooke’s presentation. As she described the process of mapping, you have to be aware of the various stakeholders that are involved in this conversations. You have the official ones, which are essentially the corporations that have incorporated the internet into their marketing efforts (that would be ALL OF THEM), and the consumers, which include fans. Fans will take to the internet, and share information, and official stakeholders are always keeping an eye out.

I don’t mean that in the sense of spying. I mean it in the sense of recognizing the opportunities that fans create for brand extension. In this sense, Cooke described fans in ways reminiscent of Muniz and O’Guinn’s brand communities. They keep up with the developments that pertain the objects of their fandom, and they share information and speculation about these objects.

Cooke’s colleague at Old Dominion University, Danielle Roach, spoke on “Pre-Jenkins ACA-Fandom.” Her work brought in a feminist perspective on ACA-Fandom, by suggesting that feminist scholars who wrote about fandom before Jenkins published textual poachers had been left out of the historiography of fan studies. I wholeheartedly agree with the argument, but I can’t help but wonder if the omission of individuals like Janice Radway is not only due to the declining fortunes of feminism (Roach’s argument), but could also be the result of the ways in which we label and self-identify our work. I mean, did Janice Radway ever say she studied fans?

Still, why aren’t we including much earlier work on fandom as part of the historiography of the discipline? Perhaps is because starting points, or foundational stories if you want, are often arbitrary. However, the ways in which power structures play out and influence academic disciplines should be taken into account. I found that to be Roach’s most valuable contribution, and that was my main take away from her discussion of the historiography of fandom.


The Changing Face of Fandom

I am a fan of Henry Jenkins. I follow him on twitter, and I read his blog. I own several of his books, and I have quoted him repeatedly in my work. However, since Henry Jenkins is not a singer, or an actor, my fandom is a respectable activity. In fact, my activities would not be described as fandom at all. As Joli Jenson would say,  I’m an “aficionado,” or even “an expert.” This paradox shows how the word fan has been tainted, and turned into a pathology. Understandably, academics, as Jenson states, are not too eager to describe themselves as fans of other academics:

Would I defend my ‘team,’ the pragmatists, against the attacks on them by, say, Hegelians, neo-Marxist and/or post-structuralists? You bet. Would I do so in a rowdy, rambunctious or violent way? Of course not. I would respond instead with respectable rowdiness (acerbic asides in scholarly articles) and acceptable violence (the controlled, intellectual aggression often witnessed in conference presentations (Jenson, 22).

Jenson’s essay, Fandom as Pathology, really made me think of how we, and by extension the media (in a chicken ‘n egg way), use language to disparage specific activities and individuals. We create others, by making them seem dangerous, and in the process, we reassure ourselves that we are normal. With fans, this has usually meant characterizing them as either “obsessed loners” or “frenzied crowds” (Jenson, 14). Trekkies are a perfect example of this.
In Textual Poachers: Television Fans and Participatory Culture, Henry Jenkins starts chapter 1 with a discussion of William Shatner’s appearance as host of Saturday Night Live. Jenkins described how the skit used popular stereotypes about trekkies to disparage these fans. This is Jenkins’ analysis in full:
Trekkies are:
  • Brainless consumers who will buy anything associated with the program or its cast (DeForest Kelly albums);
  • devote their lives to the cultivation of worthless knowledge (the combination to Kirk’s safe, the number of Yeoman Rand’s cabin, the numerical order of the program episodes);
  • place inappropriate importance on devalued cultural material (“It’s just a television show”).
  • are social misfits who have become so obsessed with the show that it forecloses other types of social experience (“Get a Life”).;
  • are feminized and/or desexualized through their intimate engagement with mass culture (“Have you ever kissed a girl?”);
  • are infantile, emotionally and intellectually immature (the suggestion that they should move out of their parents basement, their pouting and befuddle responses to Shatner’s criticism, the mixture of small children and overweight adults);
  • are unable to separate fantasy from reality (“Are you saying we should pay more attention to the movies?”)
    (Jenkins, 1992, p. 10)
  • Jenkins’ point, and Jenson’s as well, is to show how such stereotypes are produced through selective representations. Interestingly enough, though, the same media that has stigmatized trekkies for decades, is now scrambling for fans (maybe not trekkies, but fans altogether). Changes in the media landscape make it increasingly difficult to reach a mass audience.

    And changes have been dramatic. Just consider this: in 2005, 41% of American homes received 100 or more television channels, but viewers tend to watch between fifteen and twenty of these. This is a far cry from the time in which only three networks ruled the airwaves. In addition to more choice, technologies such as the DVR, online streaming, DVD’s, Youtube and the ITunes store have revolutionized how people watch television shows (Jenkins, 2006a; Lotz, 2007). As a consequence of fragmentation, advertisers need to make greater efforts to reach the same number of eyeballs that was once readily available because the average audience size is much smaller (Webster, 2005; Lotz, 2007). In fact, according to Webster (2005), ABC, NBC and CBS combined only reached 29% of the audience during the 2002-2003 season. This is very significant, considering that those three networks commanded almost 70% of the audience in 1985 (p. 368).

    So what does this mean in terms of fandom? According to Henry Jenkins, the Internet may be re-deeming the fans; they might be the future of the television industry in particular (Jenkins, 2007). Fans are desirable users because their degree of engagement and loyalty to television shows is greater than that of the casual viewer. In other words, they will watch, and also actively seek out content, thus creating multiple opportunities for exposure to advertising (Ha & Chan-Olmsted, 2004).

    Yet, in order to tap into fandom, the media industries need to re-conceptualize two things. First, as Jenkins suggests, they need to re-think strategies to build brand loyalty and fan engagement. Second, they need to re-think the language used to describe fans.

    The re-conceptualization of marketing strategies is well underway. Approaches such as “affective economics” (Jenkins, 2007) attempt to increase our level of involvement with a brand, by understanding the emotional connections between consumers and brands, and to harness these  to guide purchasing decisions. A key approach in affective economics is the “brand community,” which is defined as “a specialized, non-geographically bound community, based on a structured set of social relationships among admirers of a brand” (Muniz & O’Guinn, 2001, p. 412).

    For Muniz and O’Guinn (2001), brand communities are signs of the times. They reflect the conditions of industrialized societies in which branded commodities are everywhere. However, these authors warn against dismissing members of a branded community as indoctrinated drones, or obsessive fans. On the contrary, these individuals are fully aware of the commercial nature of brand. Furthermore, they “do not wish to be confused with indiscriminate zealots who are “weird nuts” occupying marginal positions” (p. 418). Because absolute devotion is not required for membership, these communities are open to anyone seeking more information about the brand. That some casual visitors can eventually become fans is not unexpected (Andersen, 2005).

    They “do not wish to be confused with indiscriminate zealots who are “weird nuts”? What a telling statement. However, I think we can take it further. The conflation between fandom and pathology, without a doubt, works against fans. Yet it also works against the industries that are vying for their attention. This seems to be forcing a change of the language used by the media to talk about fans. Here are some examples of the fandom as pathology discourse described by Jenson:

    • An obsessed fan arrived at Warner Brothers studios with a 1.5m-high teddy bear for an actress who was shot dead a year later, a security guard told a court yesterday. Prosecutors allege that the fan, Robert Bardo, 21, tracked Rebecca Schaeffer to her home, rang the door bell and killed her with a single gunshot when she opened the door (The Courier Mail, Sept 27, 1989).
    • AN apparently deranged fan of ice skater Katarina Witt is being held in custody over fears that he was stalking the Olympic champion (The Sunday Mail, December 29, 1991).
    • David Letterman’s most dogged fan showed up again in his neighborhood, after telling authorities she’d leave him alone. Margaret Ray, a 39-year-old from Crawford, Colo., who has been arrested six times on charges of breaking into Letterman’s house, tried to get a taxi driver to take her to the late- night comedian’s estate. Police later found her near Letterman’s home and put her on a train back to New York City. Ray was released from a Connecticut mental hospital last spring (USA Today, March 26, 1992).

    Stalking and violence against celebrities is nothing new. However, I have noticed  that there is a catchphrase used to describe obsessive fans. They are celebrity stalkers, and unlike your run-of-the-mill fan, or your infantile trekkie, stalkers are pathological and deranged.

    With this catchy label of celebrity stalker, media coverage can really point out a further distinction between obsessives and regular fans. The word fan, then, can begin to be untangled from its negative connotation, and used to signal “positive” behaviors. Fans, then, can become more respectable. However, what kinds of behaviors would make for respectability?  Facebook is one site where the language of respectable fan activity plays out very clearly. Facebook allows us to proclaim our loyalties by becoming fans.

    Picture 1
    Picture 4
    Picture 5
    Picture 7

    On Facebook, you can  become fans of almost anything. A country, a television show, a consumer product, or a cause, seem acceptable objects of fandom. However, you cannot become a fan of the KKK or the Nazis, because that would be against the Facebook’s Statement of Rights and Responsibilities. You can, however, become a fan of Hating the Nazis.

    Picture 8

    With the internet, entrepreneurs have found ways to put a positive spin behaviors that could be construed as stalking. When they’re successful, such behaviors can harnessed for profit. And this is just what Gawker Media has done. Gawker Media, which is the parent company of Gawker, describes itself as a site in which traditional publishing meets audience engagement, which, in this case seems to mean gossip. What bizarre twist in affective economics.

    But maybe it is not so bizarre after all. According to Jenknis, gossip is an important facet of how online fan communities emerge and operate. Gossip provides us with a “common ground […], as those who exchange information assure one another of what they share” (Jenkins, 2006, p. 84). Gawker illustrates this point well, especially through one of its most popular, albeit controversial, features:  Gawker Stalker. Gawker stalker allows people to post celebrity sightings by sending an email to the editors of Gawker. The site also includes a map, although this feature is not updated in real time.

    Gawker receives about 3 million UVAs (Unique views) per month on its celebrity gossip site Gawker.  According to their about us page 66% of the traffic is people between the ages of 18-34, which are a very coveted demographic for advertisers.

    I would say that Gawker exemplifies the next trend in audience research, that is, the move from and impression-based logic of advertisement, to an expression-based logic. Impressions refer to the number of “eyeballs” that can view a media product at a given time. Expressions, on the other hand, reflect what people do with the product. According to Jenkins, expressions are a form of personal investment which recognizes that “consumers not only watch media; they also share media with one another, whether this consists of wearing a T-shirt proclaiming their passion for a particular product, posting a message on a discussion list recommending a product to a friend, or creating a parody of a commercial that circulates on the internet” (Jenkins, 2007, p. 68).

    It is also an example of new ways of re-framing the image of the fan. By using the word fan repeatedly, as in Facebook, or by making the distinction between fans and stalkers, companies can further tap into what people are passionate about. However, they must first begin by setting the limits of what behaviors are acceptable, and what is still considered eccentric or crazy.

    Sorry Trekkies!

    • Jenkins, H. (2006). Convergence Culture.
    • Star fan on kill charge. (1989, September 27). The Courier-Mail.

    You can be a/an (insert here) on Youtube (or, how I learned about the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster)

    Seth MacFarlane is an atheist? Well… knock me over with a feather!

    This is what’s going through my mind while I’m working at the instructor’s office in the depths of the RTV building. I’m reading Raymond Vanarragon’s piece on Family Guy and religion. I’m not even sure where to start unpacking it. I mean, I agree with his main point. Religious individuals can can be fans of Family Guy once they lighten up. After all, it is a television show, it is entertainment, and it’s Seth MacFarlane. Family Guy will lampoon anything and everything, therefore, why get so bent our of shape when religion becomes the target?

    One possible answer is this: religion has always played an important role in American society. Every American knows the story of how the Puritans came to the new world to escape religious persecution. A smaller number, I’d say, are also familiar with John Winthrop’s famous sermon A Model of Christian Charity. In 1630, Winthrop addressed his congregation on the deck of the Arabella, during their journey to Massachusetts Bay. Winthrop told them:

    For we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill. The eyes of all people are upon us. So that if we shall deal falsely with our God in this work we have undertaken, and so cause Him to withdraw His present help from us, we shall be made a story and a by-word through the world. We shall open the mouths of enemies to speak evil of the ways of God, and all professors for God’s sake. We shall shame the faces of many of God’s worthy servants, and cause their prayers to be turned into curses upon us till we be consumed out of the good land whither we are going. (Winthrop, 1630).

    Winthrop clearly believed that his congregation had a calling, a special mission, and that their actions would be an example to the world. However, to retain God’s favor, Winthrop and his followers had to abide, unflinchingly, to Christian morals. Otherwise, they would all be doomed. This is how he ended his sermon:

    But if our hearts shall turn away, so that we will not obey, but shall be seduced, and worship other Gods, our pleasure and profits, and serve them; it is propounded unto us this day, we shall surely perish out of the good land whither we pass over this vast sea to possess it.
    Therefore let us choose life,
    that we and our seed may live,
    by obeying His voice and cleaving to Him,
    for He is our life and our prosperity (Winthrop, 1630).

    Taking historical precedent into account, I’d say that asking people to lighten up  underestimates the importance of religious beliefs in American society, and how religion polarizes the nation.

    Anyone can be a/an (insert here) on Youtube.

    According to the Pew Center, Americans are “highly religious,” unlike Europeans, who tend to be more secular (Pew Center, 2008). However, the Center also reported that Americans are not very dogmatic about religion, that is, most people believe that religious teachings can be interpreted in different ways, and that religion is not the only path to salvation.

    The majority of Americans, therefore, tend to be very open minded about religion. Yet there is a relationship between religion, social mores, and politics:

    The social and political fault lines in American society run through, as well as alongside, religious traditions. The relationship between politics and religion in the United States is particularly strong with respect to political ideology and views on social issues such as abortion and homosexuality, with the more religiously committed adherents across several religious traditions expressing more conservative political views (Pew Center, 2008).

    A previous Pew Center survey, from 2001, suggested that about 28 million Americans go online to seek out information about religion and spirituality. By 2004, that number had climbed to about 82 million individuals (Clark, 2004), which is not surprising when you consider how many more people had taken to the internet in the period between both surveys. The Pew Center coined a term to describe these individuals: they were called religion surfers (Larsen, 2001). Religion surfers use the internet to seek out information about their faith and other faiths, and to send and receive messages about religion and spirituality, according to both Pew surveys.

    Nevertheless, this is not the only thing that religion surfers do. Many of them use the internet for social activism and proselytizing. And this is how I came across the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

    Because the Internet allows the expression of diverse viewpoints, it has been considered as a potential public sphere. The Public Sphere is a concept associated mostly to Jurgen Habermas, a German critical theorist. According to Habermas, the public sphere ensures a healthy, and functioning democracy. The public sphere is “the realm of our social life in which something approaching public opinion can be formed” (Habermas, 1989/2006, p 73). It is a space, or better yet, “a constellation of communicative spaces in society that permit the circulation of information, ideas, debates—ideally in an unfettered manner” (Dahlgren, 2008). The public sphere, according to Habermas, shows four key characteristics. First, in the public sphere, all participants are equal; social class does not matter, but the ability to craft convincing arguments is pivotal. Second, the public sphere is a critical space where people interrogate issues, debates concerns, and keeps public authority in check. Third, the public sphere is open and inclusive to all. And fourth, debates within the public sphere are rational (Habermas, 1989/2006; Dean, 2003).

    Again, these are ideal characteristics. In reality, the public sphere has been criticized, among other things, because it is not as inclusive as Habermas would have it to be. Since Habermas linked the public sphere to the rise of bourgeois society and to the Enlightenment, women, minorities, and the working class were excluded, a fact that Habermas himself acknowleged. These marginalized groups, moreover, create their own public spheres, but they are not as powerful in shaping public opinion (Fraser, 1992, as cited by Papacharisi, 2002).

    Habermas also acknowledges that as more people enter into the public sphere — that is, as participation increases — the ability to function as a rational body decreases. And this, to me, is a more serious problem with the public sphere, this assumption of rationality. People who participate in public debates are expected to show civility, common sense, and skill. Furthermore, in order to successfully argue for a position, individuals need to be persuasive, which means that they need to be able to craft logical and coherent arguments. These assumptions deny the fact we can be completely irrational, incoherent, and disruptive, and still chime into the public sphere until it becomes a cacophony. Sites like Youtube offer a perfect example of this. Youtube is a space that everyone can use as a platform for anything they please, including the voicing of opinions that attempt to persuade others. In that sense, Youtube could be similar to the idealized public sphere. However, the site is not constructed to facilitate dialogue, deliberation, or reciprocal discussion. In other words, anyone can be a/an (insert here) on Youtube.



    Participatory cultures: Not your usual politics?

    In 2007, began compiling a weekly top 10 list of political videos. At the time, the site had  been in existence for about a year. They were described as “a progressive political news Internet video channel featuring news, opinion and humor,”  which would support itself through advertising. The goal of the site was to reach out to progressive (read: left-leaning) viewers, focusing exclusively on issues that would appeal to this constituency (MediaPost, 2006).

    I would say that, though still in existence, is not one of the most successful ventures attempting to marry politics and cyberspace. In fact, when I set out to look for political viral videos, the first site I thought of was JibJab. They first came into the limelight of American public consciousness with the “This Land is Your Land” video, featuring John Kerry and George W. Bush. Though JibJab began as an outlet for political satire, by 2007 it had expanded into the on-line card business. In fact, they brought us another internet classic: Elf Yourself (Mcarthy, 2009).

    Without a doubt, most political organizers in the United States look to the internet to enhance political participation. The Internet’s promises access to one of the most coveted demographics: the elusive “young voter,” the 18-34 year-olds who spend a significant amount of their time online. Furthermore, the Internet is inherently democratic: you do not need a degree, a resume, or extensive experience to start writing a blog, or to post videos of yourself on youtube.

    So, why not politics? Why not admit that the revolution, as Gil Heron Scott stated once, will not be televised?

    Or, as Henry Jenkins suggests, that new media, like the Internet, empower us to bypass mainstream media (Jenkins, 2007). New media are significantly different than old media when it comes to politics and participation:

    The new media operate with different principles than the broadcast media that dominated American politics for so long: access, participation, reciprocity, and peer-to-peer rather than the one-to-many communication. Given such principles, we should anticipate that digital democracy will be decentralized, unevenly dispersed, profoundly contradictory, and slow to emerge (Jenkins, 2007, p. 208).

    Henry Jenkins is a firm believer in participatory culture. Nevertheless, he, more than anyone I have come across, understand that the grassroots power of the internet is half of the equation. Mainstream media are constantly monitoring online events. Their reporting puts viral video into overdrive. In fact, understanding the relationship between old media (television, newspapers, magazines, etc) and new media can partially explain the difference between and If you don’t recognize the site, maybe you will remember this: is part of This is an online content provider that has branded itself as “TV for the Internet.” The company, which is privately-owned, counts Goldman Sachs as one of their investors. And this is another important distinction between and the first has a clear business plan and investors, and the second one, apparently, underestimates both (at least as far as I could tell).

    But I digress… I promise I have a point. When it comes to politics, the potential of the internet works as part of a strategy, and the key aspect of that strategy is convergence:

    Candidates may build their base on the Internet but they need television to win elections. It’s the difference between a push media (where messages go out to the public whether they seek them or not) and a pull medium (which serves those with an active interest in seeking out information on a particular topic). The Internet reaches the hard core, television the undecided (Jenkins, 2007, p. 213).

    Mobilizing on the Internet

    In 2008, Wired magazine columnist Sarah Stirland wrote that Obama owed his nomination to the Internet:

    He used the web more effectively than any prior national candidate, harnessing its organizing power to vault over party favorite Hillary Clinton and become the first black presumptive presidential nominee. With an enormous internet-driven donor base of 1.5 million people, more than 800,000 of whom have accounts on Obama’s social networking website, Obama is the first internet candidate to win mainstream success. His online supporters have created more than 30,000 events to promote his candidacy, some of which are still underway in the last primary states of Montana and South Dakota (Stirland, 2008).

    Reading Stirland’s article, I could not help but wonder why she did not mention Howard Dean. If anyone pioneered Internet campaigning, it was Dean. This is how Jenkins summarizes the Dean campaign:

    Dean raised more money online from small contributions than any other previous candidate, setting a model that John Kerry would subsequently follow to close the “money gap” with the Republicans. His staff used blogging to create a more intimate, real-time relationship with his supporters. They deployed “smart mob” — style tactics, including an adept use of, to quickly launch rallies, drawing together thousands of people at a time when other candidates were still speaking to half-empty rooms. Dean didn’t so much create the movement; his staff simply was willing to listen and learn” (Jenkins, 2007, p. 210).

    Obama applied and refined these tactics, tapping into social networks, like Facebook, that were in their infancy in 2004, or did not even exist, like twitter. Of course, not everything was a smashing success. When the Obama campaign decided to announce the name of Obama’s running mate via text message, they overwhelmed the system. As a result, many supporters ended up not receiving the text message until hours later (Vargas, 2008).

    Regardless of this glitch, the success of the Obama campaign sparked considerable interest on his web tactics. Meghan McCain, in particular, decried how much Republicans failed to understand and harness the Internet. She suggested that “unless the GOP evolves as the party that can successfully utilize the Web, we’ll continue to lose influence” (McCain, 2009). And utilizing effectively the web is not merely about jumping on every new site that appears on the horizon. It is about having a message that appeals to the voters, and, as McCain suggests, about understanding the times in which we live:

    We live in an era where most individuals my age [Meghan McCain is in her twenties] get their political news from The Daily Show and SNL’s Weekend Update. I know this aggravates the old school political operatives to no end, but it’s true. The Obama administration understand that my generation spends most of its day on a laptop or a BlackBerry, and that using the web is easy way to communicate their ideas to their constituents. Making a website, Facebook group, or YouTube video entertaining and enticing is where grassroots campaigning begins (McCain, 2009).

    To be fair, not all Republicans are as resistant to the Internet. McCain herself is an excellent example. However, she notes, with frustration, the disconnect between the Republican party and young voters. It is also worth noting that the demographic composition of the nation is changing dramatically. In other words, “the overall U.S. electorate is becoming less conservative, less white, and younger, while Republican voters are getting older, whiter, and more conservative” (Koppelman, 2008).

    Maybe it’s time, like McCain suggests, to rethink the usefulness of videos like this one.


    • Jenkins, H. (2007). Convergence Culture: Where old and new media collide
    • McCain, M. (2009). Why Republicans don’t get the Internet.