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Don't Read This or the Copyright Police will get you
international |
arts and media |
feature
Wednesday June 16, 2004 12:28 by dotdotdot
A quote from Ulysses - more than 3 lines!!@!!
--People do not know how dangerous lovesongs can be, the auric egg of
Russell warned occultly. The movements which work revolutions in the
world are born out of the dreams and visions in a peasant's heart on the
hillside. For them the earth is not an exploitable ground but the living
mother. The rarefied air of the academy and the arena produce the
sixshilling novel, the musichall song. France produces the finest flower
of corruption in Mallarme but the desirable life is revealed only to the
poor of heart, the life of Homer's Phaeacians. As Dublin celebrates Bloomsday, it turns out that any reading or publication of more than 3 lines of Ulysses is protected by copyright. Policing this is made more difficult by the brief period that the work was out of copyright in the 1990's before the extension of copyright period for 70 years after artists death. The Irish Dail had to pass a special law to enable it to mount an exhibition of Joycean manuscripts, there are stories doing the rounds of copyright lawyers scouring the city for people quoting more than 3 lines from Ulysses and the Joyce breakfast had to take place with no readings from Joyce. You can still read Ulysses thanks to the internet – but no quoting, at least not in
Ireland, on Bloomsday |
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Comments (24 of 24)
Jump To Comment: 24 23 22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1& do us all a favour.
As well as the recent Order to stop Stephen Joyce suing the Government, several other copyright Orders are in the works and they look pretty chilling.
Copyright and Related Rights (Notice of Seizure) Order 2004
This allows a copyright holder (or rather someone claiming to be a
copyright holder!) to seize allegedly illegal copies, illicit recordings
or protection-defeating devices. Apparently the claimant simply has to
notify the Garda that he is going to make a seizure, and the victim must
then apply to the district court for his property to be returned.
This has many problems: the victim is assumed to be guilty; it
effectively puts the law into the hands of the copyright claimant; and
there's a great chance of "denial of service", i.e. making a seizure
under this Order just to make things difficult for the victim. As far as
I can see, at least within the order itself, there is no way to deal
with abusive seizures.
And,
Copyright and Related Rights (Notify and Take Down) Order 2004
This is has similarities with the Order above, and with the USA's DMCA
takedown stuff. Again a copyright claimant can get an ISP or other
facilitator to remove allegedly illegal copies or illicit recordings.
Again (it appears to me) the facilitator and victim are assumed guilty
and must prove their innocence.
Finally, there's conference in the RDS June 20-22 called "Copyright for
Creativity in the Enlarged European Union: Profile, Perception,
Awareness" on June 20-22. This is an EU presidency event. There will be
debate on rights management, WIPO, etc. I don't know if it's open to the public, but it should be and I encourage anyone interested to go along.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/arts/3810193.stm
I generally see the name and skip over, maybe I'm too lazy, thick to see the diamonds that iosaf buries among his meths induced rantings but I'm sure he has his fans, anyway is that not what indymedia is about? (Maybe he'll get bored or a grilfriend soon)
and who can blame us?
when you get used to his style you will find he is probably the single most consistently informative imc regular there is - oh - and he has a sense of humour which is a rare enough commodity around here -
Or do they scan the first line, realise its iosaf again, and move to the next post?
listens to Joyce and then gets scolded for uploading quotes and a photo of boots.
Ya bastards!
it's just the RIP light a candle that gets up Ray's nose, aethiest him. Well you'll be crying out for a PP when the day comes Ray.
:-)
and my name is Iosaf. it says so on all my official documentation. Stick that up your anglicisation. I have done as much as Prionsais de Rossa to explain irish pronunciation and serve the cultural cause of the Irish language. ¿you have a seperate language in Ireland? Man, in Brixton how they pronounced it. So glad I didn't put seosaimh on the documents. "Cee oh say im huh mack die Ar mad da"
anyway, bloomsday is over no more Joycean shite-
EU constitution - Life Patenting - securing strong farmer votes for FG and losing their urban votes - praising socialists-
Russian revealations on Brain washing-
and continuing discrediting of US foreign policy - are the agenda for the rest of the week.
next week we will see Ken O'K transferred to Vauxhall for questioning, (he'll be declaring Irishness ahead of that) Sharon is in for a shock, Bertie will backpeddling on a Euro job, and the Shinners will come out of their "we are thinking what next" silence bit.
get your own blog? fiddlesticks.
no-one pays attention to blogs.
until you're dead.
I don't plan to buy Ulysses new (second hand is OK) til it's back out of copyright or stil Stephen Joyce changes his arrogant ways.
P.
Yes ... and it could even be named eponymously as "joeblogs" ..... or if he insists on clinging to his pseudo-gaelic monniker .... "iosaf-blogs" ......
There are other web sites. You could even set up your own blog.
"Fff! Oo!
Where bronze from anear? Where gold from afar? Where hoofs?
Rrrpr. Kraa. Kraandl.
Then not till then. My eppripfftaph. Be pfrwritt.
Done.
Begin!
Given the existence as uttered forth in the public works of Puncher and Wattmann of a personal God quaquaquaqua with white beard quaquaquaqua outside time without extension who from the heights of divine apathia divine athambia divine aphasia loves us dearly with some exceptions for reasons unknown but time will tell and suffers like the divine Miranda with those who for reasons unknown but time will tell are plunged in torment plunged in fire whose fire flames if that continues and who can doubt it will fire the firmament that is to say blast hell to heaven so blue still and calm so calm with a calm which even though intermittent is better than nothing but not so fast and considering what is more that as a result of the labors left unfinished crowned by the Acacacacademy of Anthropopopometry of Essy-in-Possy of Testew and Cunard it is established beyond all doubt all other doubt than that which clings to the labors of men that as a result of the labors unfinished of Testew and Cunnard it is established as hereinafter but not so fast for reasons unknown that as a result of the public works of Puncher and Wattmann it is established beyond all doubt that in view of the labors of Fartov and Belcher left unfinished for reasons unknown of Testew and Cunard left unfinished it is established what many deny that man in Possy of Testew and Cunard that man in Essy that man in short that man in brief in spite of the strides of alimentation and defecation wastes and pines wastes and pines and concurrently simultaneously what is more for reasons unknown in spite of the strides of physical culture the practice of sports such as tennis football running cycling swimming flying floating riding gliding conating camogie skating tennis of all kinds dying flying sports of all sorts autumn summer winter winter tennis of all kinds hockey of all sorts penicillin and succedanea in a word I resume flying gliding golf over nine and eighteen holes tennis of all sorts in a word for reasons unknown in Feckham Peckham Fulham Clapham namely concurrently simultaneously what is more for reasons unknown but time will tell fades away I resume Fulham Clapham in a word the dead loss per head since the death of Bishop Berkeley being to the tune of one inch four ounce per head approximately by and large more or less to the nearest decimal good measure round figures stark naked in the stockinged feet in Connemara in a word for reasons unknown no matter what matter the facts are there and considering what is more much more grave that in the light of the labors lost of Steinweg and Peterman it appears what is more much more grave that in the light the light the light of the labors lost of Steinweg and Peterman that in the plains in the mountains by the seas by the rivers running water running fire the air is the same and then the earth namely the air and then the earth in the great cold the great dark the air and the earth abode of stones in the great cold alas alas in the year of their Lord six hundred and something the air the earth the sea the earth abode of stones in the great deeps the great cold on sea on land and in the air I resume for reasons unknown in spite of the tennis the facts are there but time will tell I resume alas alas on on in short in fine on on abode of stones who can doubt it I resume but not so fast I resume the skull fading fading fading and concurrently simultaneously what is more for reasons unknown in spite of the tennis on on the beard the flames the tears the stones so blue so calm alas alas on on the skull the skull the skull the skull in Connemara in spite of the tennis the labors abandoned left unfinished graver still abode of stones in a word I resume alas alas abandoned unfinished the skull the skull in Connemara in spite of the tennis the skull alas the stones Cunard (mêlée, final vociferations) tennis . . . the stones . . . so calm . . . Cunard . . . unfinished . .
brother of light now you REST.
From his girdle hung a
row of seastones which jangled at every movement of his portentous frame
and on these were graven with rude yet striking art the tribal images of
many Irish heroes and heroines of antiquity, Cuchulin, Conn of hundred
battles, Niall of nine hostages, Brian of Kincora, the ardri Malachi, Art
MacMurragh, Shane O'Neill, Father John Murphy, Owen Roe, Patrick
Sarsfield, Red Hugh O'Donnell, Red Jim MacDermott, Soggarth Eoghan
O'Growney, Michael Dwyer, Francy Higgins, Henry Joy M'Cracken,
Goliath, Horace Wheatley, Thomas Conneff, Peg Woffington, the Village
Blacksmith, Captain Moonlight, Captain Boycott, Dante Alighieri,
Christopher Columbus, S. Fursa, S. Brendan, Marshal MacMahon,
Charlemagne, Theobald Wolfe Tone, the Mother of the Maccabees, the Last
of the Mohicans, the Rose of Castile, the Man for Galway, The Man that
Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo, The Man in the Gap, The Woman Who
Didn't, Benjamin Franklin, Napoleon Bonaparte, John L. Sullivan,
Cleopatra, Savourneen Deelish, Julius Caesar, Paracelsus, sir Thomas
Lipton, William Tell, Michelangelo Hayes, Muhammad, the Bride of
Lammermoor, Peter the Hermit, Peter the Packer, Dark Rosaleen, Patrick
W. Shakespeare, Brian Confucius, Murtagh Gutenberg, Patricio
Velasquez, Captain Nemo, Tristan and Isolde, the first Prince of Wales,
Thomas Cook and Son, the Bold Soldier Boy, Arrah na Pogue, Dick
Turpin, Ludwig Beethoven, the Colleen Bawn, Waddler Healy, Angus the
Culdee, Dolly Mount, Sidney Parade, Ben Howth, Valentine Greatrakes,
Adam and Eve, Arthur Wellesley, Boss Croker, Herodotus, Jack the
Giantkiller, Gautama Buddha, Lady Godiva, The Lily of Killarney, Balor
of the Evil Eye, the Queen of Sheba, Acky Nagle, Joe Nagle, Alessandro
Volta, Jeremiah O'Donovan Rossa, Don Philip O'Sullivan Beare. A
couched spear of acuminated granite rested by him while at his feet reposed
a savage animal of the canine tribe whose stertorous gasps announced that
he was sunk in uneasy slumber, a supposition confirmed by hoarse growls
and spasmodic movements which his master repressed from time to time by
tranquilising blows of a mighty cudgel rudely fashioned out of paleolithic
stone.
So anyhow Terry brought the three pints Joe was standing and begob
the sight nearly left my eyes when I saw him land out a quid O, as true as
I'm telling you. A goodlooking sovereign.
—And there's more where that came from, says he.
—Were you robbing the poorbox, Joe? says I.
Bronze by gold heard the hoofirons, steelyringing.
Imperthnthn thnthnthn.
Chips, picking chips off rocky thumbnail, chips.
Horrid! And gold flushed more.
A husky fifenote blew.
Blew. Blue bloom is on the.
Goldpinnacled hair.
A jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, rose of Castile.
Trilling, trilling: Idolores.
Peep! Who's in the .... peepofgold?
Tink cried to bronze in pity.
smelt of some kind of drink not whisky or stout or perhaps the sweety kind
of paste they stick their bills up with some liqueur Id like to sip those
richlooking green and yellow expensive drinks those stagedoor johnnies
drink with the opera hats I tasted once with my finger dipped out of that
American that had the squirrel talking stamps with father he had all he
could do to keep himself from falling asleep after the last time after we took
the port and potted meat it had a fine salty taste yes because I felt lovely and
tired myself and fell asleep as sound as a top the moment I popped straight
into bed till that thunder woke me up God be merciful to us I thought the
heavens were coming down about us to punish us when I blessed myself
and said a Hail Mary like those awful thunderbolts in Gibraltar as if the
world was coming to an end and then they come and tell you theres no God
******
it's mindblowing.
it's mindblowing every day.
i reckon he blew his mind making it.
Let's all send him good thoughts,
just in case.
REST James
pages later pages later pages later:-
n St little chits of
missies they have now singing Kathleen Kearney and her like on account of
father being in the army and my singing the absentminded beggar and
wearing a brooch for Lord Roberts when I had the map of it all and Poldy
not Irish enough was it him managed it this time I wouldnt put it past him
like he got me on to sing in the Stabat Mater by going around saying he was
putting Lead Kindly Light to music I put him up to that till the jesuits found
out he was a freemason thumping the piano lead Thou me on copied from
some old opera yes and he was going about with some of them Sinner Fein
lately or whatever they call themselves talking his usual trash and nonsense
he says that little man he showed me without the neck is very intelligent the
coming man Griffiths is he well he doesnt look it thats all I can say still it
must have been him he knew there was a boycott I hate the mention of their
politics after the war that Pretoria and Ladysmith and Bloemfontein where
Gardner lieut Stanley G 8th Bn 2nd East Lancs Rgt of enteric fever he was
a lovely fellow in khaki and just the right height over me Im sure he was
brave too he said I was lovely the evening we kissed goodbye at the canal
lock my Irish beauty he was pale with excitement about going away or wed
be seen from the road he couldnt stand properly and I so hot as I never felt
they could have made their peace in the beginning or old oom Paul and the
rest of the other old Krugers go and fight it out between them instead of
------------------
dragging on for years killing any finelooking men there were with their
fever if he was even decently shot it wouldnt have been so bad I love to see a
regiment pass in review the first time I saw the Spanish cavalry at La Roque
it was lovely after looking across the bay from Algeciras all the lights of the
rock like fireflies or those sham battles on the 15 acres the Black Watch
****************************
it goes on.
i reckon he blew his mind making it.
Let's all send him good thoughts,
just in case.
REST James
Five tallwhitehatted sandwichmen between Monypeny's corner and
the slab where Wolfe Tone's statue was not, eeled themselves turning
H. E. L. Y'S and plodded back as they had come.
***
Now that's stretching the 3 line rule a wee bit,
charge us voluntary organisation rates on that extra line.
— There was a battle, sir.
— Very good. Where?
The boy's blank face asked the blank window.
3 lines.
Brother of Light
now you REST.
oh she was a lovely girl.
needed an exorcist @ the time,
but still a lovely girl.
I hope you my dear outgrew the end of term TCD provost ball.
q. ¿how many lisa careys can there be?
a. probably loads. ah but I go misty eyed when I remember one.
Nora? Nora? are you listening?
it's your effin fault you B****.
always going on at me about paying my way.
this annual Bloomsday thing really demonstrates how fucking up it's arse is the Irish nation.
Every April we get Senator Norris coming out (forgive the pun) and reminding us his Joycean scholar to the state and cluck clucking.
Then we get the "Joyce Estate" reminding us all about copyright.
Then we got those poor mishapen cultural reprobates who obviously have never outgrown the Trinity Provosts end of term ball.
It's shit.
Man I doubt he's even laughing about it.
He's dead. Eternity is a long time.
Did he predict exactly how many of the effin gobshites were going to go a thinking?
Nora, give them 100 years and I'll be blamed for everything from the renaming of Madonna to the split up Fianna Fail and the peculiar greed of Bill Gates. They'll have put up god damn ulgy statues of me all over the place, given me the 10punt note made sure I've got my likeness mauled by all the penny pinching bastards and then take pride in burning them all to join some Continental Empire system.
LEAVE HIM ALONE!
this is more important than the Mammy Harney.
The man was really one of "us". a Normal Irish person who couldn't hack it, left, never went back, and enjoyed blogging, didn't enjoy bouts of insanity and spent all his life in penury.
PENURY! mammy Harney and Bertie Ahern it has nothing to do with your efin Celtic Tiger.
Joyce would have spat on you all, if he could have seen you to aim.
I can only understand that you "the Irish Establishment and US/Irish Academia" hate the poor man -en masse-
IT's almost more cynical and disgusting watch you laud one you never understood, can't hope to understand, and nurse the delusion that only "establishment academic hacks" may understand him.
Take a look at the global "bloomsday" shite.
Go surf the net, it's appaling.
God Bless you James.
RIP.
It was a wonderful inspiring and creative and often painful life, it shows. Thank you.
You REST now.
we'll sort out the gobshites
in your memory.
hey look only 17 of us bothered to sign the petition to save a house which is mentioned in a fictional story by the great man, like it's one of the ones you can read and get the gist of without being on drugs.
Even better if you can send an e-mail to the addresses listed
Maybe I say Maybe I say Maybe,
all day public non profit readings in Barcelona of the Copyrighted text!!!!
Now Stephen you have a consulate of Ireland here representing the commercial, economic, political and cultural interests of the Irish State,
so work them.
You might have got up their noseys by all that struggle with the Dublin Government and David Norris, but a copyright penny watched is a centime of a Catalan Euro saved.
So say somthing like "Hi, I'm Joyce's heir apparant, though not a Swiss resident or exile from Gombeen land, I hold the sole rights to determine public readings of texts owned by teh Joyce estate, and I realise though I have cost the Irish state a packet, and my great forebear cost them an even bigger packet, you will defend my rights as owner of the copyright, leave you're air conditioned glossy highrise and catch a L4 metro to the centre, and do _your job_ [raise your voice @ that bit Stephen] in protecting the Cultural interests of the Irish State. Oh and remind them to go upstairs and thank the Swiss mission at the Swiss consulate for giving Joyce a deathbed and grave and who knows maybe even peace of mind".
give them a call, 0034 93-491.50.21
or send them an email.
cons.irl@webcat.es
or fax them.
I favour faxes over email, to be honest Stephen, emails get ignored, letters aren't worth the stamp, and faxes are just as expensive/cheap and in a good day of tireless cyberactivism you can go to supper happy in the knowledge that someone has had to change the fax paper roll at least twice and if left unwatched fax paper being the rolly type of paper makes a mess of the best planned office.
here's their fax:-
93-491.50.21. put a 0034 before that.
Read on!
Maybe even try and understand what he was on about.
I'll stick on a balaclava, surround myself with a few heavies borrowed from Sinn Fein and the BNP, stand outside the Legal Eagle bar by the four courts, and will use a loudspeaker to rant out the more explicit sections of Ulysses.
Any smart ass big money gimp will think twice before coming near my ass. Punk ass mo' fos.