[Commons-Law] relay

Via: Lawrence Liang

Kafka, the patron saint of delirium undoubtedly served as the inspiration of
Deleuze and Guattari, when they characterized capitalism as a very special
delirium. They in turn repaid their debt, by re reading Kafka against the
usual grain which portrays Kafka as the existential self loathing neurotic.
They would argue that we have never given enough due to delirium, which lies
at the heart of desire. Sebastian Luetgert recently pointed me out to an
absolutely fascinating diary entry by Kafka that enables us to think through
the idea of the delirium of intellectual property. The entry brilliantly
combines The Trial and myriad tales of plagiarism to produce an uncanny
parable of property and personhood.

Lawrence

===========

Franz Kafka, Diary Entry 28 February, 1912

Sunday morning, while washing, it occurs to him that he hadn't seen the
Tagblatt yet. He opens it by chance just at the first page of the magazine
section. The title of the first essay, ³The Child as Creator,² strikes him.
He reads the first few lines‹and begins to cry with joy. It is his essay,
word for word his essay. So for the first time he is in print, he runs to
his mother and tells her. What joy! The old woman, she has diabetes and is
divorced from his father, who, by the way, is in the right, is so proud.
One son is already a virtuoso, now the other is becoming an author!


After the first excitement he thinks the matter over. How did the essay get
into the paper? Without his consent? Without the name of the author?
Without his being paid a fee? This is really a breach of faith, a fraud.
This Mrs. Durège is really a devil. And women have no souls, says Mohammed
(often repeated). It's really easy to see how the plagiarism came about.
Here was a beautiful essay, it's not easy to come across one like it. So
Mrs. D. therefore went to the Tagblatt, sat down with one of the editors,
both of them overjoyed, and now they begin to rewrite it. Of course, it had
to be rewritten, for in the first place the plagiarism should not be obvious
at first sight and in the second place the thirty-two-page essay was too
long for the paper.


In reply to my question whether he would not show me passages which
correspond, because that would interest me especially and because only then
could I advise him what to do, he begins to read his essay, turns to another
passage, leafs through it without finding anything, and finally says that
everything was copied. Here, for instance, the paper says: The soul of the
child is an unwritten page, and ³unwritten page² occurs in his essay too.
Or the expression ³surnamed² is copied too, because how else could they hit
upon ³surnamed.² But he can't compare individual passages. Of course,
everything was copied, but in a disguised way, in a different sequence,
abridged, and with small, foreign interpolations.


I read aloud a few of the more striking passages from the paper. Is that in
the essay? No. This? No. This? No. Yes, but these are just the
interpolated passages. In its spirit, the whole thing, the whole thing, is
copied. But proving it, I am afraid, will be difficult. He'll prove it,
all right, with the help of a clever lawyer, that's what lawyers are for,
after all. (He looks forward to this proof as an entirely new task,
completely separate from this affair, and is proud of his confidence that he
will be able to accomplish it.)


That it is his essay, moreover, can be seen from the very fact that it was
printed within two days. Usually it takes six weeks at the very least
before a piece that is accepted is printed. But here speed was necessary,
of course, so that he would not be able to interfere. That's why two days
were enough.


Besides, the newspaper essay is called ³The Child as Creator.² That clearly
refers to him, and besides, it is sarcasm. By ³child² they really mean him,
because he used to be regarded as a ³child,² as ³dumb² (he really was so
only during his military service, he served a year and a half), and they now
mean to say with this title that he, a child, had accomplished something as
good as this essay, that he had therefore proved himself as a creator, but
at the same time remained dumb and a child in that he let himself be cheated
like this. The child who is referred to in the original essay is a cousin
from the country who is at present living with his mother.


But the plagiarism is proved especially convincingly by a circumstance which
he hit upon only after a considerable amount of deliberation: ³The Child as
Creator² is on the first page of the magazine section, but on the third
there is a little story by a certain ³Feldstein² woman. The name is
obviously a pseudonym. Now one needn't read all of this story, a glance at
the first few lines is enough to show one immediately that this is an
unashamed imitation of Lagerlöf. The whole story makes it even clearer.
What does this mean? This means that this Feldstein or whatever her name
is, is the Durège woman's tool, that she read the Gutsgeschichte, brought by
him to the Durège woman, at her house, that in writing this story she made
use of what she had read, and that therefore both women are exploiting him,
one on the first page of the magazine section, the other on the third page.
Naturally anyone can read and imitate Lagerlöf on his own initiative, but in
this cast, after all, his influence is too apparent. (He keeps waving the
page back and forth.)


Monday noon, right after the bank closed, he naturally went to see Mrs.
Durège. She opens her door only a crack, she is very nervous: ³But, Mr.
Reichmann, why have you come at noon? My husband is asleep. I can't let
you in now²‹³Mrs. Durège you must let me in by all means. It's about an
important matter.² She sees I am in earnest and lets me come in. Her
husband, of course, was definitely not at home. In the next room I see my
manuscript on the table and this immediately starts me winking. ³Mrs.
Durège, what have you done with my manuscript. Without my consent you gave
it to the Tagblatt. How much did they pay you?² She trembles, she knows
nothing, has no idea how it could have got into the paper. ³J¹accuse, Mrs.
Durège,² I said, half jokingly, but still in such a way that she sees what I
really mean, and I keep repeating this ³J¹accuse, Mrs. Durège² all the time
I am there so that she can take note of it, and when I go I even say it
several times at the door. Indeed, I understand her nervousness well. If I
make it public or sue her, her position would really be impossible, she
would have to leave the Women's Progress, etc.


From her house I go straight to the office of the Tagblatt and have the
editor, Löw, fetched. He comes out quite pale, naturally, is hardly able to
walk. Nevertheless I do not want to begin with my business at once and I
want to test him first too. So I ask him: ³Mr. Löw, are you a Zionist?²
(For I know he used to be a Zionist.) ³No,² he says. I know enough, he
must be acting a part in front of me. Now I ask about the essay. Once more
incoherent talk. He knows nothing, has nothing to do with the magazine
section, will, if I wish, get the editor who is in charge of it. ³Mr.
Wittmann, come here,² he calls, and is happy that he can leave. Wittmann
comes, also very pale. I ask: ³Are you the editor of the magazine section?²
He: ³Yes.² I just say, ³J¹accuse,² and leave.


In the bank I immediately telephone Bohemia. I want to give them the story
for publication. But I can't get a good connection. Do you know why? The
office of the Tagblatt is pretty close to the telephone exchange, so from
the Tagblatt it's easy for them to control the connections as they please,
to hold them up or put them through. And as a matter of fact, I keep
hearing indistinct whispering voices on the telephone, obviously the editors
of the Tagblatt. They have, of course, a good deal of interest in not
letting this call go through. Then I hear (naturally very indistinctly)
some of them persuading the operator not to put the call through, while
others are already connected with Bohemia and are trying to keep them from
listening to my story. ³Operator,² I shout into the telephone, ³if you
don't put this call through at once, I'll complain to the management.² My
colleagues all around me in the bank laugh when they hear me talking to the
telephone operator so violently. Finally I get my party. ³Let me talk to
Editor Kisch. I have an extremely important piece of news for Bohemia. If
you don't take it, I'll give it to another paper at once. It's high time.²
But since Kisch is not there I hang up without revealing anything.


In the evening I go to the office of Bohemia and get the editor, Kisch,
called out. I tell him the story but he doesn't want to publish it.
Bohemia, he says, can't do anything like that, it would cause a scandal and
we can't risk it because we're dependent. Hand it over to a lawyer, that
would be best.


On my way from the Bohemia office I met you and so I am asking your advice.

³I advise you to settle the matter in a friendly way.²

³Indeed, I was thinking myself that would be best. She's a woman, after
all. Women have no souls, says Mohammed, with good reason. To forgive
would be more humane, too, more Goethe-like.²

³Certainly. And then you wouldn't have to give up the recitation evening,
either, which would otherwise be lost, after all.²

³But what should I do now?²

³Go to them tomorrow and say that this one time you are willing to assume it
was unconscious influence.²

³That's very good. That's just what I'll do.²

³But because of this you needn't give up your revenge, either. Simply have
the essay published somewhere else and then send it to Mrs. Durège with a
nice dedication.²

³That will be the best punishment. I'll have it published in the Deutsces
Abendblatt. They'll take it; I'm not worried about that. I'll just not ask
for any payment.²

Then we speak about his talent as an actor, I am of the opinion that he
should really have training. ³Yes, you're right about that. But where? Do
you perhaps know where it can be studied?² I say: ³That's difficult. I
really don't know.² He: ³That doesn't really matter. I'll ask Kisch. He's
a journalist and has a lot of connections. He'll be able to give me good
advice. I'll just telephone him, spare him and myself the trip, and get all
the information.²

³And about Mrs. Durège, you'll do what I advised you to?²

³Yes, but I forgot; what did you advise me to do?² I repeat my advice.

³Good, that's what I'll do.² He turns into the Café Corso, I go home,
having experienced how refreshing it is to speak with a perfect fool. I
hardly laughed, but was just thoroughly awakened.

Via: "Rahul Cherian"

Via: anu

Via: "Raman Chima"

Via: Seth Johnson

A few strands to link up:

Youtube's practice is precisely in accord with the WIPO
Broadcaster's Treaty. The notion is to watermark video streams
so you can tell who broadcast particular broadcasts, then create
an unconstitutional, but international-treaty-based
"broadcaster's right" to enforce that in complete disregard for
basic rights. A fundamental change in the nature of the public
domain (and the Internet).

I don't know a lot about the "Homeland Stupidity" site that
follows, but take note of the following (text pasted below):

> http://www.homelandstupidity.us/2006/02/22/google-in-bed-with-us-intelligence/


Google recently acquired Youtube. Despite their net neutrality
stance, Google is now in a position to help facilitate the end of
net neutrality through the broadcaster's treaty.


Seth

Via: Lokesh

*Debating Politics Series*

*3rd meeting *

**Youth and Stud** **ents Foru*m*

*and*

The St. Stephens College History Society



Invites you for a talk on


*/Stealing Culture?:/*

*/Intellectual Property Rights/*

*/And/*

*/The Copyleft Movement./*


//


/speakers/


Ravi Sundaram and Ravikant (Sarai, CSDS)





Time:1.30 pm

venue: Seminar room

Via: Rana Dasgupta

“Technology and Below-the-Line Labor in the Copyfight over Intellectual
Property” (American Quarterly, 58:3, 2006).

Extract follows; for full article go here:

http://archive.blogsome.com/2006/10/22/andrew-ross-copyfight/#more-433

Kurt Vonnegut published his first novel, Player Piano (1952), at a time
of high, dystopian anxiety about the abuse of technology by the state
and by industrialists alike. The novel — which depicts an unsavory
future in which new technologies make everyone’s skills obsolete —
dutifully channeled these public concerns. Player pianos do not really
figure in the novel, but the title was an explicit allusion to their
contribution, historically, to the technological disemployment of
musicians. Nor was Vonnegut the only writer of his generation to draw
attention to the mother of cultural automation. The threat posed to
artists’ livelihoods by the mechanical player piano was also shared by
William Gaddis, who developed a lifelong obsession with the technology. (1)

It is worth recalling briefly how and why the pianola, which had a
short-lived but legally significant career, should have earned such a
reputation as the original sinner. Its fin-de-siècle development was
arguably the first salient example of an industrial technology designed,
in large part, to cut the costs of creative labor.

The subsequent pianola boom came at a time when the American Federation
of Musicians (AFM) had scored some significant successes in negotiating
wage scales and other conditions for its members. Indeed, the union’s
bristling response to this new technology marked the beginning of the
AFM’s long struggle against the automation of the jobs of live
performers. By 1909, an estimated 330,000 of the pianos produced in the
United States were mechanized, and by 1916, 65 percent of the market was
still monopolized by player pianos. (2) The roll industry, which
serviced the boom, had become one of the chief factors driving the music
industries as a whole. While it was promoted as a great equalizer
(create your own music in the home!), the pianola met the industry’s
need to find a less durable consumer product than the standard piano.
Aside from the instrument’s direct threat to live performers, the
production of the player rolls created a low-wage manufacturing industry
that offered compensatory factory-style employment to the displaced
performers and others who could not find work in vaudeville or in one of
the many traveling dance orchestras of the time. As a result, the work
of pianists was imperiled and degraded on all sides.

The pianist workforce took further hits with each new commercial
technology for recording or broadcasting performances. While the advent
of silent movies provided employment for piano accompanists in the
theaters, the sound film process introduced by Vitaphone and the use of
canned music in motion pictures would put them and thousands more movie
and theater pit musicians out of work. (3) Jukeboxes and other uses of
phonographs took a further toll. In the space of two decades, pianists
who had been the mainstay of virtually all commercial and domestic
entertainment were reduced to bit parts in the Fordist assemblies of
orchestras and big bands. By midcentury, the piano was more ubiquitous
in households as an item of furniture than as an active complement to
the hearth. It is fair to say, in keeping with the spirit of Vonnegut’s
title, that the pianola set in motion a machinery of disemployment that
continues to transform the craft of music making to this day.

But the player piano is more likely to be remembered, and cited, today
as a key case study in copyright law. Pianists, after all, were not the
only group whose livelihoods were threatened by the mercurial rise of
these machines. Their use also deprived composers of profits from sheet
music sales. Congress was asked to adjudicate whether the pianola
companies had to pay copyright holders for permission to play their
content. In their landmark decision of 1909, the legislators resolved
that whoever wanted to record the music, and make subsequent copies of
it, had to pay for the content, though not at a price set by the holder.
Instead, the fee paid to the composer or the relevant copyright holder
was set by law (at two cents for each copy).

Via: Lokesh

*Debeting Politics series*
on
*Capital Punishment
Justice or Failure of Justice*

speakers
*Dr. Badri Raina
Sonia Jabbar
Ravi Nair*

Venue : Seminar Room *Kirori Mal College *
DelhiUniversity, North Campus

Date : *27th October 2006*
Time : *12:30 pm.*

*Youth and Students' Forum*
in collaboration with
English Literary Society, KMC

contact: 9871499738, 9871406533, 9210578165

Via: Vivek Narayanan

I should mention that I think that U.B. may be the first poetry book to
have been published in India under a copyleft license. Does anyone know?

V.

Via: Vivek Narayanan

Dear Friends,

I will be performing poems from my first book (Universal Beach, published by Harbour Line, 2006) as well as a selection of new poems written towards the second book (tentatively titled Lectures in Indian History) at:

*the British Council, Chennai, Thursday 26 October, at 7.30 p.m.*

This will be part of the Chennai British Council’s “Writer’s Block” season, where one writer is featured each month. Please note that passes are not required for this event, and that all are welcome.

Do come! Upcoming readings include Bangalore, Crosswords Bookstore, on November 9, and at the British Council Delhi on November 29. Below, find blurbs, reviews, bio.

******************************************************************

'Soon the world will know of a daring, vigorous, sexy, humane, wise and traveled poet. It will find in Universal Beach a remarkable formal control, and an equally remarkable free-verse nonchalance. Narayanan has a noise all his own; a voice, happily, exceeding the limitations of voice.'
--David Herd

"What is more interesting is the way Narayanan performed... [He] doesn't just recite his poems, he acts them out, complete with strong vocal inflexions, chanting and hand gestures."
--Jai Arjun Singh, Business Standard Weekend, Jabberwock blog.

“Vivek Narayanan’s poems remind me of a thriving port-city, where diverse tongues are spoken, their registers varying from a priestly classical to a piratical demotic… And then there are moments of luminosity, when the word becomes the bearer of hope and redemption. Not by offering us a spurious clarity, but by challenging us into insight with a jaggedness of phrase, a treacherously ambiguous grammar, and a demanding musicality.
--Ranjit Hoskote

Vivek Narayanan’s first book of poems, Universal Beach, was published in 2006 from Harbour Line (Mumbai). In 2002, he was the Charles Wallace Writer-In-Residence at the University of Kent at Canterbury. As a poet, he has studied under Derek Walcott and Rosanna Warren (at Boston University) and Charles Tomlinson. He has recently had poems in Harvard Review, Fulcrum, Indian Literature and elsewhere, has been published in Indian and international journals and anthologies since 1994, including in Reasons For Belonging: Fourteen Contemporary Indian Poets (Viking Penguin, 2002). His short stories, reviews and essays have appeared in a number of places, including the Village Voice, The HarperCollins Book of New Indian Fiction (2005), Best New American Voices 2005 (Harcourt Publishers), Poetry Review (UK), The Hindu, and Perihelion. Upcoming work includes poems in the Norton Anthology of Contemporary Voices from the Eastern World (W.W. Norton, 2007) and Sixty Indian Poets (Penguin). In addition to publication, he has been working on the performance of his work since 1995.

Narayanan was born in Ranchi in 1972, grew up in Lusaka, Zambia, studied in the US, and is currently based in Delhi, where he works at Sarai: The New Media Initiative ( www.sarai.net )— an organization that brings together visual artists, social scientists, writers, and others to reflect on old and new media forms and the city. Currently he is also a staff writer for the quirky British “non-literary literary magazine”, The Enthusiast ( www.theenthusiast.co.uk ) and Associate Editor at the Boston-based international poetry annual, Fulcrum: www.fulcrumpoetry.org .