Theory in a Digital Age: A Project of English 483 Students, Coastal Carolina UniversityMain MenuTheory in a Digital AgeRemediationThis chapter will showcase how the remaking of art can leave its impact.Cornel West and Black Lives MatterMacKenzie McKeithan-PrickettDetermination in GamingThe Mind Set and ExperienceThe Hope for a Monstrous World Without GenderIntroduction to "A Cyborg Manifesto" and ThesisFreud's Uncanny Double: A Theoretical Study of the Portrayal of Doubles in FilmThis chapter of the book will look at the history of the theme of the "double" using Freud's Uncanny as the theoretical insight of the self perception of the double in film/cinema.From Literacy to Electracy: Resistant Rhetorical Bodies in Digital SpacesAshley Canter"Eddy and Edith": Online Identities vs. Offline IdentitiesA fictional story about online identities and offline identities. (Also a mash-up video between Eddy and Edith and Break Free.)“Pieces of Herself”: Key Signifiers and Their ConnotationsIs the Sonographic Fetus a Cyborg?How sonographic technology initiates gendered socializationPost-Capitalism: Rise of the Digital LaborerParadox of RaceDr. Cornel West, W.E.B Du Bois, and Natasha TretheweySleep Dealer - Digital LaborBy Melissa HarbyThe Kevin Spacey Effect: Video Games as an Art Form, the Virtual Uncanny, and the SimulacrumThe Twilight Zone in the Uncanny ValleyIntroductionThe Virtual Economy and The Dark WebHow Our Economy is Changing Behind the ScenesTransgender Representation and Acceptance in the MainstreamHow the trans* movement has caused and exemplifies the spectralization of genderA Voice for the Humanities in A Divided AmericaDr. Cornel West on the indifference in our society and how he thinks the humanities can help heal itReading Between the Lines: Diversity and Empowerment in ComicsJen Boyle54753b17178fb39025a916cc07e3cb6dd7dbaa99
1media/Control Screen.jpg2016-12-07T17:14:34-08:00Vannah Scarboroughe182ac71a2b64cdf1f7907412a08c6d71a5c7b8f128884image_header2016-12-07T17:30:36-08:00Vannah Scarboroughe182ac71a2b64cdf1f7907412a08c6d71a5c7b8fIt’s 1999 and I’m sitting beside my mother in our two-door, burgundy Ford Escort. It has the kind of seat belts that lift up when you open the door, and come down just enough not to crush your chest when the door is closed. I’m incredibly happy to be sitting up front because I have just gotten a Barbie Steering Wheel for Christmas and had spent all morning getting the suction cups just right on the dash so it’s level with the steering wheel my mother is holding now. Her nails are painted this matted, dark red and I begged her to paint mine the same color a couple of days earlier. Each time her perfectly manicured nails hit the turn signal, my chipped, nervously bitten nails do the same to my mock turn signal. Left at Main Street, right at the Arby’s, zooming past the high school and the grocery- every move she makes, I imitate. A stack of papers to grade in the back seat, Fleetwood Mac blaring on the radio, one hand rests on the wheel, the other on her Diet Pepsi. With each swig she takes, I take a gulp of my Minute Maid Orange Juice. She’s everything I ever wanted to be. She is me, and I am her.