By Carolyn Guertin .......... For many the term postfeminist might call to mind the vanilla pleasures of metrosexuality, webcams, online soaps, and blog culture, but, for me, a 40-something cyberfeminist scholar, curator and some time activist, the politically-minded feminist texts I work with are in fact dyed-in-the-wool postfeminist ones that occupy a different place on the postfeminism continuum from those more loudly-lauded, lighter confections. Usually given a bad rap by the media, postfeminism has been accused of being antifeminist, whereas it is instead what the next wave of second wave feminism has become. Its name is not a marker or movement that intends to imply that feminism is dead and gone, any more than Donna Haraway's "postgender" and N. Katherine Hayles' "posthuman" mean the death of those old shoes.
As Ann Brooks puts it in Postfeminisms, "the concept of `post' implies a process of ongoing transformation and change" (1). Postfeminism is that indicator that shows us the organism formerly known as feminism has grown into something far more complex than its liberal origins would lead us to expect. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, second wave feminism, which had spoken predominantly from and to a position of white middle class privilege, began to fracture to include a broader chorus of voices, classes, and races. Postfeminism or, more exactly, postfeminisms have expanded to include a multitude of situated perspectives within the context of postmodern thinking, and have swelled to embrace the new emphasis on what Michèle Barrett identified in 1992 (the year that the World Wide Web was born) as "fluidity and contingency" - features that are the trademark stock in trade of the cyber age.
Barrett believed feminism's paradigm shift to be the result of a new interest in culture that in turn gave rise to a whole new collectivity of subjectivities.
It is no accident that this shift coincided with the advent of a technology that foregrounded networked communications. It was only a few years earlier, in the fledgling days of the personal computer back when the Internet was still a vehicle predominantly for hackers and technogeeks, that Haraway first articulated a politics of connectivity for women in the context of these new technologies. In her "Cyborg Manifesto" Haraway's half-woman, half-machine revels in the confusion of body boundaries and fractures all sense of an originary unity or simplex gender through embracing the cyborg as a model: a being who revels in discursivity, multiplicity, hybridity, and perversity. As the Web has evolved, it has become something of a gene pool for creative explorations of sexualities, subjectivities and identities - and has proved to be as liberating for men as for women in that regard. Cyberfeminist scholar Sadie Plant even argues for the feminizing influence of technology in a connected age. Without a doubt, though, this new technology's most important role has been that of facilitating communication.
Cyberfeminism was born at a particular moment in time, 1992, simultaneously at three different points on the globe. In Canada, Nancy Paterson, a celebrated high tech installation artist, penned an article called "Cyberfeminism" for Stacy Horn's Echo Gopher server. In Australia, VNS Matrix (Josephine Starrs, Julianne Pierce, Francesca da Rimini and Virginia Barratt) coined the term to label their radical feminist acts and their blatantly viral agenda: to insert women, bodily fluids, and political consciousness into electronic spaces. That same year, British cultural theorist Sadie Plant chose the same term to describe her recipe for defining the feminizing influence of technology on western society and its inhabitants.
Connectivity has been called the genius of feminism by theorist Robin Morgan (53), and this genius is being realized in electronic spaces and texts in more complex ways than in any other medium to date. Connectivity is the poster child of the postfeminist universe, which is why the first cyberfeminist collective, VNS Matrix, chose the image of the matrix - the cosmic womb - as its symbol. Another cyberfeminist collective, the Old Boys' Network, defined its local chapters as "nodes" that "collide, disintegrate, regenerate, engage, disembody, reform, collapse, renew, abandon, revise, revitalize, and expand" (OBN FAQ 7). These structural and mechanical concerns are not accidental. Postfeminisms do not inhabit a network; they are the network of feminist discourse in virtual space and they are at their best when they are helping to forge communities of practice. In its incarnation most familiar to ebr 's readers, the electronic, hyperlinked text is both a narratological structure and the means of navigation in space and time. In the webbed space of hyperlinked fiction, the pregnant gaps between the nodes are at least as important as the textual nodes themselves. The nodes exist in conjunction with the dynamic space of the journey and cannot be discussed in isolation. So with the newest literary forms of the postfeminist universe. They cannot be separated from the communities and material praxes that they both engender and nurture on and off the Web.
It is a solution-oriented form of political action that inserts bodies and media-based dissent into real time material concerns. It should not be confused with its adolescent and illegal cousins, cractivism - code cracking, vandalism, data blockades (DDos) and the loss of digital data - or cyberterrorism - acts and agents of wanton destruction including worms and viruses. One of its trademark features is that the Web cannot contain hacktivism's flows, allowing it to spill out into the world in the form of political protest at WTO and G8 events, for example, and in books, pamphlets, net.art, and performance art.
Hacktivism as a praxis was born in December 1997 when Critical Art Ensemble member and software engineer Carmin Karasic was so appalled by the events of the Acteal Massacre - 45 Zapatistas were murdered at the hands of the Mexican government - that she set out to create a Web interface that would perform political protest as an aesthetic act. Three other Critical Art Ensemble members joined her in forming a new collective they named the Electronic Disturbance Theatre. (The group's name is drawn from the concept of civil disobedience first proposed by Henry David Thoreau.) Their electronic civil disobedience engine is named FloodNet; funded by RTMark and launched in September 1998, it is Karasic's brainchild in her war against injustice. Filling the browser page with the names of the dead, this activism tool "would access the page for Mexico's President Zedillo seeking bogus addresses, so the browser would return messages like "human_rights not found on this server" (Cassell). Unlike the attacks launched by cracktivists, no damage is done by this software agent. When the Electronic Disturbance Theatre alerts its "online activists to `commence flooding!'" they visit EDT's website and click on FloodNet's icon (Harmon). The software then directs their browser to the target, and cues the same page to load over and over again.
Similar to the disruptive aestheticization of codework by the Dutch trio jodi.org, Karasic sees her collectivity interface as something more closely akin to "conceptual art" than to cyberterrorism (Harmon). No one and no data are harmed in these `attacks,' but websites are effectively shut down while the protest is being transmitted.
Advancing human rights through the electronic media is also the purview of another collective, a cyberfeminist one called subRosa. It is currently comprised of Laleh Mehran, Hyla Willis, Steffi Domike, Lucia Sommer, and Faith Wilding. It was also formed in the fall of 1998 - around the same time that Karasic was vowing to respond to Mexican excesses with FloodNet. Donna Haraway was the first to identify science as one of the most insidious cultural forms women needed to address to regain control of their bodies; subRosa follows in that tradition. subRosa uses its art to critique "the relationships between digital technologies, biotechnologies and women's bodies/lives/work" (Griffis). The goal of these hacktivists, akin to the Electronic Disturbance Theatre's, is the creation of communities, what they call "female affiliations that respect difference and create productive projects in solidarity with others who are working on similar ones" (Griffis).
All of this may seem somewhat removed from the electronic book and literary traditions, but when postfeminisms meet the new media they encourage these kinds of pleasures in the confusion of boundaries between bodies, texts, technologies, politics, and cultures. In a hyperlinked age when the only true path through a text is a personal journey, the many roads of postfeminism show that comminglings of radical politics and material concerns are alive and well in both the virtual and real worlds. How effective these hacktivist actions are is difficult to measure, but they are remarkable as tools for global mobilization and peaceful protest. It is clear that they are very effective at allowing women's voices to be heard.
Critical Art Ensemble
Critical Art Ensemble Defense Fund
Cassel, David. "Hacktivism in the Cyberstreets." AlterNet. 30 May 2000. 16 June 04
Griffis, Ryan. "Tandem Surfing the Third Wave: Part 3, interview with subRosa." YOUgenics.
Harmon, Amy. "`Hacktivists' of All Persuasions Take Their Struggle to the Web." New York Times on the Web.
metac0m. "What is Hacktivism?" thehacktivist.com. Dec 03. 16 June 04.
Old Boys' Network (OBN). "FAQ: Frequently Asked Questions."
subRosa. "Tactical Cyberfeminism: An Art and Technology of Social Relations."
VNS Matrix. "Cyberfeminist Manifesto." 1992.
Wray, Stefan. "Electronic Civil Disobedience and the World Wide Web of Hacktivism: A Mapping of Extraparliamentarian Direct Action Net Politics. Nov 1998.
source ... http://www.electronicbookreview.com