When I was 11, I wrote a story about a dragon, a scorpion, and a young woman. It was awful in that way that all middle school stories seem to be. It was all action, no description, filled with clumsy, silly lines that kept the text from every hitting a decent stride. I loved that story, though. I worked on it every day. It was mine. Almost twenty-five years later, I am still playing with that story. By now, it is a strange, convoluted fantasy/sci-fi epic that has changed and grown almost as much as its author. Even now, it plays out in my head in those moments before sleep or in those quiet times during the day when my mind has a moment to wander.
I wrote the first part of that story in a yellow notebook my mother bought me. I wrote in the first person and I was proud because I had just learned what first person meant. It was my fantasy journal, a mixture of pretend and creation that suited me so well at the time.
That summer of that year I went to scouting camp and I brought my notebook with me. I was promised some quiet time and I thought that I might have the chance to write. I was dreaming about being an author, someday, and I imagined that this was how they started. I was young, still thinking about options and possibilities. I forgot about the accommodations: small tents and cots with nosy tent-mates.
There was an argument between myself and another boy from my tent. I can’t tell you what we argued over. The topic is lost to me, dead. I forgot it the instant he sneered and mentioned something I had written in my little yellow notebook. It undid me in a way I never expected. They had taken my story. They trashed something that I had built and loved, and I had no clue what to say or do.
I swore at him. I never swore. I grew up in a household where swearing was unimaginable and I swore. I was so angry there were in tears my eyes and I kept swearing. My tent-mates only found this amusing but it was the most damning act I could think of at the time. I stormed off and from that point forward all I wanted to do was go home.
When I got home, I sealed that little notebook away and I never showed it to anyone. It is lost now. A victim of a childhood spent moving. I quit Scouts. I still wrote but in quiet places where my notebooks were safe.
I still fight with that angry little boy, today. He is my biggest critic. His fear and anger sits in my chest. It is an anchor. It is the reason I still do what I do instead of doing what I love. Every day, I get up and I tell the boy that we have to keep going and we do. He rails and screams and swears and the going is slow and agonizing but we keep going. He lists the failures, the falls, and all the mistakes. He mentions that camp and the sneers and I tell him I am so sorry that happened, but I can’t stay there anymore. So I wake up tomorrow and I try again. I am not sure where this ends up, but I still struggle and that must mean something.
At least, I hope that it does.
Reflection on Lanier’s Op-Ed
January 19th, 2012 § 0 comments § permalink
Jaron Lanier (author of You Are Not a Gadget) had an interesting take on the SOPA blackouts and Web activism. His article, “The False Ideals of the Web,” led to the reflections below.
I know that Lanier has his axe to grind and that is all well and good. We all do. I even agree with most of what he has to say. It is dangerous to frame any discussion in regard to regulating the Internet purely in terms of black and white. This is especially true when we are talking about battles between corporate interests. Several of the companies that oppose SOPA have less than stellar track records when it comes to supporting an open Internet community. In their continued attempt to enact a form of modern day enclosure on the content their users create they often end up working against the very ideals that first allowed them to grow and prosper. He and I have no disagreement in this regard, whatsoever.
Since we agree that much of the opposition to SOPA comes from companies with specific economic goals, I have to admit I was surprised by the direction his piece took. Lanier’s assumption that the argument against SOPA is somehow about the maintenance or worship of “free” content is completely off the mark. In fact, I would say just the opposite. Opposition to SOPA is about making sure that content creators, of any size, can continue to reach users. For some, this is merely about switching corporate gatekeepers where “new media” behemoths take the place of “old media” behemoths. For others, it is about preserving a creator’s ability to openly share content free from any gatekeepers without the fear of costly lawsuits that would essentially eliminate any chance they would have to share their work.
Google and Facebook do not oppose SOPA because they are the “good guys.” They oppose SOPA because it’s costly. That’s it. They may blanket us in the pretty rhetoric of openness and freedom but, ultimately, they’re talking about the bottom line. In all honesty, they probably could survive a post-SOPA world albeit in much different capacity. They have the financial strength to create licensing agreements with the MPAA and RIAA. The rest of us don’t have that luxury.
The Internet is bigger than Google or Facebook. It is bigger than any single company and, personally, I hope it always remains that way. In this case, the profits of these powerful companies align with the best interests of the Internet community and that works in everyone’s favor. We already know that this won’t be the case forever, though. Indeed, that is why I am heartened by the very thing that seemed to scare Lanier: the backlash against companies that supported SOPA. I am ardent supporter of free speech, but free speech involves responsibility. I believe organizations and people have a right to choose where they spend their money. If a company supports practices that I disagree with, I have the right to not patronize that company. I also have the right to share that disagreement with others. Is this behavior the beginning form of some sort of orthodoxy? Perhaps, it is. Is it any different than refusing to sign up for a website because you disagree with it polices? Not so much.
Lanier is right in arguing that there needs to be an aggressive look at models of payment for content beyond advertising. Information isn’t free even for those sites that provide content without cost. That’s one of the reasons why Wikipedia spends so much time asking for donations. I agree that we do sometimes get caught up in the “everything must be free” mentality and that there is still a long way to go in providing solid solutions to content creators of all sizes. Blaming “free” content, however, does nothing but play into the hands of those who support measures like SOPA. This not about an Internet without rules where content is merely a pointless commodity to be traded on the nearest torrent site. This is about an Internet where practical and sane content protections do not displace or harm a growing, vibrant, and increasingly important creative community that continues to push our boundaries and the possibilities of what technology and art can do regardless of their size of their pocketbooks or their lobbying firms.