Thursday, July 21, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Written Defense
My video is not an infringement of any copyrights because it is a not-for-profit exercise in education and amusement only. The original source material - the feature film "Mrs. Doubtfire" and several episodes of Fox's "Arrested Development" - is not misrepresented, mistreated, or deceptively edited in any way. It is also unaltered by any unauthorized music or dialogue, and as such it is a fair representation of the original material and does not violate any of the creators' original intent.
It's amazing to me that anyone anywhere could consider this video a moral or ethical transgression of any kind. If I have taken anything from this class - primarily from Cory Doctorow's book and interview, and Larry Lessig's talks - it's that harmless videos or other remix materials made for fun and not intended for profit should not be considered illegal. It's a mistake to create laws that turn ordinary, creative, well-intended people into criminals. The laws in place are inspired by greed and not any sense of fairness or even of common sense. Perhaps if someone is directly profiting from the work and creativity of another person, that is cause for concern. But to pursue and prosecute innocent hobbyists seems like a huge mistake, and a huge waste of time.
It's amazing to me that anyone anywhere could consider this video a moral or ethical transgression of any kind. If I have taken anything from this class - primarily from Cory Doctorow's book and interview, and Larry Lessig's talks - it's that harmless videos or other remix materials made for fun and not intended for profit should not be considered illegal. It's a mistake to create laws that turn ordinary, creative, well-intended people into criminals. The laws in place are inspired by greed and not any sense of fairness or even of common sense. Perhaps if someone is directly profiting from the work and creativity of another person, that is cause for concern. But to pursue and prosecute innocent hobbyists seems like a huge mistake, and a huge waste of time.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Remix Ideas
I'm pretty certain I want to do a video project, and probably it will be a parody movie trailer (or more like teaser trailer, since I think I want to use some kind of youtube video and those aren't usually very long.) I'm definitely going to go for a funny parody. I've been inspired in the past by Shining and Brokeback to the Future, and I hope to do something along those same lines. I plan to use the keeptube software to put together the video footage, and some sort of stock music or sound (creepy horror music, etc) laid down over it.
Since youtube posters don't typically copyright their footage, and there are plenty of free stock music tracks/sounds out there, I don't think I'll have a problem with copyright issues. I will probably make the titles myself in Photoshop - they'll look like a real movie trailer but won't be violating any existing copyrights (I hope).
Since youtube posters don't typically copyright their footage, and there are plenty of free stock music tracks/sounds out there, I don't think I'll have a problem with copyright issues. I will probably make the titles myself in Photoshop - they'll look like a real movie trailer but won't be violating any existing copyrights (I hope).
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Rip! Response
Do you believe that creativity is limited if you don’t have access to tools,
technology or libraries of content (i.e. musical samples or video clips)? Would
your creativity be redirected into another medium, or might it cease to exist
without this access?
Good question! I do believe it is limited, yes, in that with access you can develop a certain kind of creativity - and develop certain talents much more quickly than you could otherwise. I think remixing is a unique medium for commenting upon our cultural experiences that isn't easily replicable in other mediums, if at all.
This documentary really emphasized the senseless greed and out-of-bounds power and influence of media corporations. Suing a lower middle class mother over a couple Shania Twain songs - to the "tune" of $9k per song - is just pathetic and disgusting in every way. Why take a quarter of her salary every month? To what end? That's the most outrageous part of the documentary, to my mind. The punishment so exceeds the actual crime committed that it is objectionable on every moral and ethical principle imaginable. It's just senseless bullying.
The Brazil stuff and the footage from music festivals was all pretty cool. Now I feel like dancing.
technology or libraries of content (i.e. musical samples or video clips)? Would
your creativity be redirected into another medium, or might it cease to exist
without this access?
Good question! I do believe it is limited, yes, in that with access you can develop a certain kind of creativity - and develop certain talents much more quickly than you could otherwise. I think remixing is a unique medium for commenting upon our cultural experiences that isn't easily replicable in other mediums, if at all.
This documentary really emphasized the senseless greed and out-of-bounds power and influence of media corporations. Suing a lower middle class mother over a couple Shania Twain songs - to the "tune" of $9k per song - is just pathetic and disgusting in every way. Why take a quarter of her salary every month? To what end? That's the most outrageous part of the documentary, to my mind. The punishment so exceeds the actual crime committed that it is objectionable on every moral and ethical principle imaginable. It's just senseless bullying.
The Brazil stuff and the footage from music festivals was all pretty cool. Now I feel like dancing.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Review, Final Draft
But first, FUN FACT!! Putting two spaces between sentences is grammatically incorrect. That convention is a relic from the typewriter age of monospaced type.
Now on to the review...
Cory Doctorow's Little Brother takes place in a slightly-futuristic, slightly-dystopian San Francisco; it's a setting that is similar enough to our current reality to make the implications of a total surveillance culture all the more terrifying. A terrorist attack blows up the Bay Bridge in the first few pages of the novel, creating the permissive atmosphere required for a whole lot of very invasive security procedures, all conceived and carried out by the villainous Department of Homeland Security.
If this sounds like a familiar narrative, it's no accident: Doctorow's political agenda is apparent from the moment that 17-year-old Marcus, our protagonist, is abducted by Homeland Security and imprisoned under suspicion of terrorism. Is Marcus a terrorist? Hardly. He's an ace at hacking through his school's secure internet and evading their gait-recognition cameras. But the post-attack environment is such that everyone, it seems, is a suspect. And that's exactly what Marcus and I take issue with: under the guise of keeping us safe, our country is making criminals of us all.
He faces formidable obstacles in his quest to defend our Bill of Rights. Among them: his own father, who was spooked enough by Marcus's presumed death after the attack to find even the most Draconian measures appropriate. And Marcus does question himself along the way, particularly after he gains a huge online following and his worshipers are at risk of retribution for their "treasonous" acts. But his passion for his cause is infectious, and my reaction, as a liberal twenty-something in a discouraging political climate, is that this world could use way more Marcuses.
Little Brother is classified as a young adult novel. So how's the writing? There is a touch of that adult condescension, a not-quite grasp of kid slang that made me cringe from time to time. There is also a tendency to over-elaborate when it comes to the finer technological details of Marcus's war against his oppressors. The characters are strong for the most part, with a slight tendency toward caricature. Marcus's friends are an array of quirky young geniuses, and his girlfriend is intelligent, funny, and fiercely supportive. It's nice to get female characters that are more than peripheral admirers or untouchable beauties.
The book itself is easy to access online at no cost whatsoever. This, too, is part of Doctorow's philosophy. We learn from his impassioned introduction that he believes unfettered access to books is not only a good thing but is now simply a reality that publishers and distributors need to embrace. Sharing something that you have purchased legally - something that by every reasonable definition is now your property - is still seen by many as a criminal act, and this ties into his central theme: a society that makes criminals of all its citizens is undeniably a dysfunctional one. It's up to us to follow Marcus's example, and use our collective ingenuity to protect our freedoms and preserve common sense.
Now on to the review...
Cory Doctorow's Little Brother takes place in a slightly-futuristic, slightly-dystopian San Francisco; it's a setting that is similar enough to our current reality to make the implications of a total surveillance culture all the more terrifying. A terrorist attack blows up the Bay Bridge in the first few pages of the novel, creating the permissive atmosphere required for a whole lot of very invasive security procedures, all conceived and carried out by the villainous Department of Homeland Security.
If this sounds like a familiar narrative, it's no accident: Doctorow's political agenda is apparent from the moment that 17-year-old Marcus, our protagonist, is abducted by Homeland Security and imprisoned under suspicion of terrorism. Is Marcus a terrorist? Hardly. He's an ace at hacking through his school's secure internet and evading their gait-recognition cameras. But the post-attack environment is such that everyone, it seems, is a suspect. And that's exactly what Marcus and I take issue with: under the guise of keeping us safe, our country is making criminals of us all.
He faces formidable obstacles in his quest to defend our Bill of Rights. Among them: his own father, who was spooked enough by Marcus's presumed death after the attack to find even the most Draconian measures appropriate. And Marcus does question himself along the way, particularly after he gains a huge online following and his worshipers are at risk of retribution for their "treasonous" acts. But his passion for his cause is infectious, and my reaction, as a liberal twenty-something in a discouraging political climate, is that this world could use way more Marcuses.
Little Brother is classified as a young adult novel. So how's the writing? There is a touch of that adult condescension, a not-quite grasp of kid slang that made me cringe from time to time. There is also a tendency to over-elaborate when it comes to the finer technological details of Marcus's war against his oppressors. The characters are strong for the most part, with a slight tendency toward caricature. Marcus's friends are an array of quirky young geniuses, and his girlfriend is intelligent, funny, and fiercely supportive. It's nice to get female characters that are more than peripheral admirers or untouchable beauties.
The book itself is easy to access online at no cost whatsoever. This, too, is part of Doctorow's philosophy. We learn from his impassioned introduction that he believes unfettered access to books is not only a good thing but is now simply a reality that publishers and distributors need to embrace. Sharing something that you have purchased legally - something that by every reasonable definition is now your property - is still seen by many as a criminal act, and this ties into his central theme: a society that makes criminals of all its citizens is undeniably a dysfunctional one. It's up to us to follow Marcus's example, and use our collective ingenuity to protect our freedoms and preserve common sense.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Review Proposal & Draft
My Project Proposal
First person writing has always been difficult for me - I generally prefer a polished & somewhat detached tone - so with this Amazon Review project I was eager to put more of myself into it and really make it personal. It fits the genre perfectly and I know it's something I need to work on as a writer. After the first draft I wrote, I felt like I succeeded in doing that to some extent, and I want to work to make my voice even more apparent.
My concern with deliberately crafting reviews from other perspectives is that it will feel disingenuous, and I really want to be honest and sincere with my review. I had an intense personal reaction to the themes in the book, and I think it would help my growth as a writer if I really focus on making this one review the best -and most personal - it can be.
My Review, First Draft
Cory Doctorow's Little Brother takes place in a slightly-futuristic, slightly-dystopian San Francisco; it's a setting that is similar enough to our current reality to make the implications of a total surveillance culture all the more terrifying. A terrorist attack blows up the Bay Bridge in the first few pages of the novel, creating the permissive atmosphere required for a whole lot of very invasive security procedures, all conceived and carried out by the villainous Department of Homeland Security.
If this sounds like a familiar narrative, it's no accident: Doctorow's political agenda is apparent from the moment that 17-year-old Marcus, our protagonist, is abducted by Homeland Security and imprisoned under suspicion of terrorism. Is Marcus a terrorist? Hardly. He's an ace at hacking through his school's secure internet and evading their gait-recognition cameras. He builds his own laptops, and he likes to cut class to play a city-wide interactive game with his best friends. But the post-attack environment is such that everyone, it seems, is a suspect. And that's exactly what Marcus and I take issue with: under the guise of keeping us safe, our country is making criminals of us all.
He faces formidable obstacles in his quest to defend the Bill of Rights. Among them: his very own father, who was spooked enough by Marcus's presumed death after the attack to find even the most Draconian measures acceptable and appropriate. And yes, Marcus does question himself along the way, particularly after he gains an enormous online following and his worshipers seem at risk of retribution for their "treasonous" acts. But Doctorow paints us a picture of a smart, courageous, industrious high school student, willing to use every technological resource at hand to stand up for what he believes is right. And my reaction, as a liberal twenty-something looking for inspiration in a discouraging political climate, is that this world could use way more Marcuses.
Little Brother is classified as a young adult novel. So how's the writing? There is a touch of that adult condescension, a not-quite grasp of kid slang that made me cringe from time to time. There is also a tendency to over-elaborate when it comes to the finer technological details of Marcus's plans. I sense that it's an effort on Doctorow's part to show that with a basic grasp of some simple mathematical concepts, we too can confound the oppressors who would seek to track our every move and bust us for some crime (any crime will do). But that didn't keep my eyes from going a little blurry every time the exposition train went off the tracks.
The characters are strong for the most part, with a slight tendency toward caricature. Marcus feels intensely throughout the novel, and we are along for the ride on a mostly-believable emotional roller coaster. (The stakes are appropriately high.) His best friends are an array of quirky young geniuses, and his girlfriend is incredibly intelligent, funny, and fiercely supportive. It's nice to get female characters that are more than peripheral admirers or untouchable beauties - Ange has a voice all her own, and that's why Marcus falls for her. His parents are loving, despite the varied conflicts at home. I would have related to his complex relationships with his parents at that age.
The great thing about this book is that it's incredible easy to access online for no cost whatsoever - though, if I had it all to do over again, I would much prefer a physical copy for ease of use and for note-taking. (I'm all about scribbling in margins.) But this, too, is part of Doctorow's philosophy. We learn from his impassioned introduction that he believes unfettered access to books is not only a good thing but is now simply a reality that publishers and distributors need to embrace, and he had me convinced without much difficulty.
"For me, for pretty much every writer, the big problem isn't piracy, it's obscurity," Doctorow tells us. "Of all the people who failed to buy this book today, the majority did so because they never heard of it, not because someone gave them a free copy." Yet sharing something that you have purchased legally - something that by every reasonable definition is now your property - is seen by many as a criminal act. This ties into his central theme: a society that makes criminals of all its citizens is undeniably a dysfunctional one. It's up to us to follow Marcus's example, and use our collective ingenuity to protect our freedoms and preserve common sense.
First person writing has always been difficult for me - I generally prefer a polished & somewhat detached tone - so with this Amazon Review project I was eager to put more of myself into it and really make it personal. It fits the genre perfectly and I know it's something I need to work on as a writer. After the first draft I wrote, I felt like I succeeded in doing that to some extent, and I want to work to make my voice even more apparent.
My concern with deliberately crafting reviews from other perspectives is that it will feel disingenuous, and I really want to be honest and sincere with my review. I had an intense personal reaction to the themes in the book, and I think it would help my growth as a writer if I really focus on making this one review the best -and most personal - it can be.
My Review, First Draft
Cory Doctorow's Little Brother takes place in a slightly-futuristic, slightly-dystopian San Francisco; it's a setting that is similar enough to our current reality to make the implications of a total surveillance culture all the more terrifying. A terrorist attack blows up the Bay Bridge in the first few pages of the novel, creating the permissive atmosphere required for a whole lot of very invasive security procedures, all conceived and carried out by the villainous Department of Homeland Security.
If this sounds like a familiar narrative, it's no accident: Doctorow's political agenda is apparent from the moment that 17-year-old Marcus, our protagonist, is abducted by Homeland Security and imprisoned under suspicion of terrorism. Is Marcus a terrorist? Hardly. He's an ace at hacking through his school's secure internet and evading their gait-recognition cameras. He builds his own laptops, and he likes to cut class to play a city-wide interactive game with his best friends. But the post-attack environment is such that everyone, it seems, is a suspect. And that's exactly what Marcus and I take issue with: under the guise of keeping us safe, our country is making criminals of us all.
He faces formidable obstacles in his quest to defend the Bill of Rights. Among them: his very own father, who was spooked enough by Marcus's presumed death after the attack to find even the most Draconian measures acceptable and appropriate. And yes, Marcus does question himself along the way, particularly after he gains an enormous online following and his worshipers seem at risk of retribution for their "treasonous" acts. But Doctorow paints us a picture of a smart, courageous, industrious high school student, willing to use every technological resource at hand to stand up for what he believes is right. And my reaction, as a liberal twenty-something looking for inspiration in a discouraging political climate, is that this world could use way more Marcuses.
Little Brother is classified as a young adult novel. So how's the writing? There is a touch of that adult condescension, a not-quite grasp of kid slang that made me cringe from time to time. There is also a tendency to over-elaborate when it comes to the finer technological details of Marcus's plans. I sense that it's an effort on Doctorow's part to show that with a basic grasp of some simple mathematical concepts, we too can confound the oppressors who would seek to track our every move and bust us for some crime (any crime will do). But that didn't keep my eyes from going a little blurry every time the exposition train went off the tracks.
The characters are strong for the most part, with a slight tendency toward caricature. Marcus feels intensely throughout the novel, and we are along for the ride on a mostly-believable emotional roller coaster. (The stakes are appropriately high.) His best friends are an array of quirky young geniuses, and his girlfriend is incredibly intelligent, funny, and fiercely supportive. It's nice to get female characters that are more than peripheral admirers or untouchable beauties - Ange has a voice all her own, and that's why Marcus falls for her. His parents are loving, despite the varied conflicts at home. I would have related to his complex relationships with his parents at that age.
The great thing about this book is that it's incredible easy to access online for no cost whatsoever - though, if I had it all to do over again, I would much prefer a physical copy for ease of use and for note-taking. (I'm all about scribbling in margins.) But this, too, is part of Doctorow's philosophy. We learn from his impassioned introduction that he believes unfettered access to books is not only a good thing but is now simply a reality that publishers and distributors need to embrace, and he had me convinced without much difficulty.
"For me, for pretty much every writer, the big problem isn't piracy, it's obscurity," Doctorow tells us. "Of all the people who failed to buy this book today, the majority did so because they never heard of it, not because someone gave them a free copy." Yet sharing something that you have purchased legally - something that by every reasonable definition is now your property - is seen by many as a criminal act. This ties into his central theme: a society that makes criminals of all its citizens is undeniably a dysfunctional one. It's up to us to follow Marcus's example, and use our collective ingenuity to protect our freedoms and preserve common sense.
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