Medosch argues that: “piracy, despite being an entirely commercially motivated activity carried out in black or grey markets, fulfills culturally important functions” (Reader, page 318).
I feel that a distinction must be drawn here between how anti-piracy people see pirates, which probably would be whole organizations (who, by the way, probably never met each other IRL – in real life) hellbent on sucking the industry dry of money by creating millions and millions of copies instantaneously and distributing it to all their target market before the movie poster man can even let the glue dry…
…and people who want to help others fulfill their wish to be entertained without spending near-obscene – and I’m not exaggerating – amounts of money doing so.
Constantine Roussous noted that “nearly 25% of global Internet bandwidth is used for downloading copyrighted works illegally”. It does sound like a high figure, but as Armin Medosch argued, most of those internet users are probably downloading to gain “access to cultural goods which otherwise would be completely unavailable”. (2008:81)
Take, for example, countries where movies “[do] not get official distribution for whatever reason” (2008:81), like China (the Chinese government seems to hate everything, or at least according to Roussous, they are the dangerous kind of censorship that anti-piracy laws can lead towards). What about the citizens who do not want to be left behind on a certain cultural craze? (Like when the Academy was praising Memoirs of a Geisha, which China banned.)
An average ticket to the cinema in Melbourne these days cost literally an hour of my casual wage, and that’s before the snacks that I buy on discount in cheap Asian stores that I have to smuggle into the cinema, because the freaking popcorn costs 10 bucks. Sometimes people just want to see a movie to take their mind off their lives, not necessarily for the whole cinema-going experience – must they still forfeit an hour or more of their hard-earned money?
TV shows work by a strict schedule – most of the time, the show that you want to watch will be on at half past seven on a Thursday night, and that’s it, no re-runs until maybe 4 years later. The sites on which you can legally watch those shows are restricted to American IPs only. What do you do then? Sure, you can simply not watch the show anymore, but I’m sure that the media industry would rather their customers see their product illegally than not at all.
An average song from the show Glee costs $2.99 (iTunes), and that’s with the AUD as strong as it is now (it’s 99c in the US, I think). Glee has covered well over 100 songs, producing on average 3 songs a week that the show airs. If you bought ALL of their covers, you’d have spent well over $300 in the course of the past 2 years for songs you probably already have, just sung by teenagers.
People who help rip, distribute and seed torrents on torrent sites are thanked, not because they have “stuck it to the man”, but because they have helped normal people who just want to be entertained without spending all of their money doing so.
References:
Medosch, A., ‘Paid in Full: Copyright, Piracy and the Real Currency of the Cultural Production’, in DEptforth. TV Diaries II: Pirate Strategies, London: Deptforth TV, 2008, pg 73-97
Haters Gon Hate
May 29, 2011 by Alex
I think that I will use my own personal blog ‘the life and laughs of me‘ as the main example, for simplicity and because I realize that I fit the description.
Geert Lovink (2008) was spot on when he (she? Oh dear) defined a weblog as “a log of personal thoughts…diary forms around what is happening in a person’s life, and reports and comments on what is happening on the Web and the world out there (3). Indeed, when asked if they own a blog, the contents that come as a result of “yes” are more often than not a public personal diary. The opinions and relevancy of said contents vary depending on the political/social leanings of the writer – whether they are interested in news and society, or just themselves. You can judge a blogger on their ‘up-and-at-them-ness’ by how fast they respond to a particular internet phenomenon.
I suppose what helps out my blog is that I follow Glenn Reynolds’ rules: “a personal voice, and a rapid response time” (Lovink, 2008:3). Most of my readers are people who know me personally, and because I am consistently talking about the same people, those who don’t know me personally are made familiar with the characters. However, I do write my opinion on certain news matters, and as Lovink noted, I didn’t “[sit] down and thoroughly analyze the discourse and circumstances” (7). At the time, I was simply writing this to remember later on which day this happened, and what my feelings were on it – “to hold onto it all, to cheat the clock and death of all things that [I] had lived” (Virginia Woolf in Lovink, 2008:6). Many posts were banal but sentimentally crucial for my own future perusal.
The issue of privacy also raises itself – I had stated in tutorials that I operate under the basis that “people just don’t give a damn about your life”. I keep almost everything public, but at the same time I am acutely aware if I write posts regarding what may be construed as illegal activities, and since I recently started working, I’m careful to only blog positively about my work (which was actually a requirement in the signing up process manual at work), which refutes Danah Boyd’s argument that “youth are pretty blase about their privacy in relation to government and corporate” (in Lovink: 7). I never include people’s full names, and at times even censor parts of their first name – yet I describe circumstances with an almost obsessive fidelity, almost as if my “liberation requires [me] to ‘tell the truth,’ to confess it to someone…, and this truth telling will somehow set [me] free” (Michael Foucault in Lovink: 13). It is almost as if I need to be honest about the things that happened, in order for it to have happened and for me to have been justified as being a part of it.
And at the very end, I have logged over 40K views in the 3 years that my blog has been in existence, and only after considerable and shameless advertising on my behalf. In my near 500 posts, only perhaps a dozen had news worthy content. The most comments I gained, discounting when I got a sudden surge during the George Clooney GAT week (which had people from other schools finding me on Google), were probably 8 comments in one post. Many of my friends read my blog, but don’t comment. Whether I turn off commenting or not, it seems, is of little or no consequence. Lovink suggested that most bloggers feel that “reader comments turn a blog into a message board” (2008:28), but it would seem that it doesn’t even begin to happen. My personal blog is for my personal use, and I don’t feel any group or mob within myself and my fellow blogger friends.
References:
Lovink, G., ‘Blogging, The Nihilist Impulse’, in Zero Comments: Blogging and Critical Internet Culture, London: Routledge, 2008, pp 1-38
Posted in Tutorial work | Tagged blogging, comments, community, diary, geert lovink, netcom2011, news matters, opinions, personal, personal diary, privacy, publicity, self managing | 4 Comments »