A few thoughts on copyright hooters

I read strine blogger for his feistiness and don't always see eye to eye with him. That's okay. Anyone who loathes and despises Little John (and all his works, and his Assembly of The Dark Forces) as thoroughly as he does can be forgiven much.

But on the matter of copyright I just don't get him. He might think he's being funny and libertarian, but.

The history of copyright law in the British Isles^* is usually traced back to developments in the last decades of the seventeenth century and the first decade of the eighteenth, under the reign of Queen Anne. This of course is before the age of radio, satellite, fibre optics, silicone technology etc and the evolution of the concepts of streaming and downloading.

Crucially what is known as The Statute of Anne had the effect of giving creators some continuing financial interest in their works, wresting that financial interest from the printers in whom it had come to reside. The preamble to the act reads inter alia Whereas Printers, Booksellers, and other Persons, have of late frequently taken the Liberty of Printing, Reprinting,and Publishing, or causing to be Printed, Reprinted, and Published Books, and other Writings, without the Consent of the Authors or Proprietors of such Books and Writings, to their very great Detriment, and too often to the Ruin of them and their Families: For Preventing therefore such Practices for the future, and for the Encouragement of Learned Men to Compose and Write useful Books...

In the very nearly three hundred years since this Act of Parliament was enacted the principle of a "term of protection" has been confirmed, but that period of time has been lengthened from the original 14 years (21 years for existing works) so that the various forms of creative expression and output now covered by the scope of 'copyright' are now protected for a period of time typically linked to the life of the author and normally with a period of post mortem time added on.

It is worth reiterating though that the concern at the heart of the original act, the issue that informed the initial debate and provided impetus for the passing of The Statute of Anne was the financial hardship endured by those who would compose new works, and their families, and the need to provide an environment in which people capable of producing 'useful books' could do so, for the benefit of all.

Sorry, honey, but when you write "It didn't introduce copyright laws to inspire the creation of artistic works from which its citizens would benefit - it did it to enable us non-creative middle management types to profiteer by indefinitely locking up that content." you're wrong.

*And it generally holds true also of those part of the world subsequently colonised by the Brits and to whom the at that time extant body of common law and statute was imparted.

Another case for strangulation

Secondary Book Worm is another perfect case for strangulation on the grounds that she does fuck all, and what she does do normally causes us more grief than good. She's driven customers to tears with her atrocious attitude. She's just horrible. She's not really all there either. She couldn't understand why I got upset when every time I walked past her she muttered "racist" under her breath. Quite why she did this has to be a matter for another post but suffice it to say for now that You Should Never Get Into A Conversation With SBW At All Lest You Find Yourself In Deep Shit.

Avoid her as you would The Plague.

She's never wrong, of course; Never Apologises, Never Explains. Some people are psychologically unsuited to reading. They pick random stuff up, misprocess it then regurgitate it or act on it in wholly in appropriate contexts.

And they weasel, then squeal like stuck pigs when cornered with their lie. If only she'd just called me and told me she'd made a mistake. I'd have fixed it and that would have been that. But instead we have to have all this Fucking Drama.

Bitter end to the day

I had to nip out unexpectedly and get some lemons; took the chance to say hello to someone who as things would have it was able to shed light on what I did wrong to day. SEE! I was right. I screwed something up. Better yet, it wasn't any of the complicated technical stuff but basic arithmetic. I shall have to wear sandals to work so I can bring my toes into play.

Corporal Jones moment

It is really simple. Count. Take of shoes and socks if necessary. Invest in an abacus. Whatever.

Then the phone goes. "I have to do this, and I have to do that and I have to do the other. So could you come in early?"

No. Now Fuck Off and panic at someone else. This is my day off and I'm already giving you quite enough of it.