Category: Networked Media

Posted on in Media, Networked Media, Production

Rights of copying and a vat full of confusion.

Last tutorial when we divulged the hidden secrets of the world wide web and what belongs to what and which belongs to who, I was left incredibly dumbfounded and utterly unable to post this photograph of an ancient ruin landscape to grace the boring pages of my Mythographic because of utter fear that I may be infringing on someone’s rights to said photograph. And instead of bothering myself to go and find out if the good ol’ CC’s sign is somewhere to be found, I gave up in my paranoia.

(Which is a totally bad move, of course.)

In saying that. I hear from various media students who collectively scream the anthem of “freedom” along with me assuredly told me that it’s fine to post photographs and videos, and memes and remixes just as long as you don’t denigrate the works, take credit of ownership and no one approaches you with a pink slip that may include a postscript of “you owe us five thousand dollars for using this.”

In any case, here’s a link if you want to browse around for free music, images, text and audiovisual resources for your next Nobel prize-winning thesis or the sort.

 

Posted on in Media, Networked Media, Production

Scribble me an eternity.

A person entranced by a book simply forgets to breathe. The house can catch alight and a reader deep in a book will not look up until the wallpaper is in flames. 
– Mister Pip, by Lloyd Jones.

 

For non-wizarding folk, the sorcery of books are both beguiling and abominably out of their domain of faith. Why? Because it is more than difficult to pretend that when the novel you stay up for till 3, maybe 4am in the morning (when you know you shouldn’t be), simply ends and a part of you has been shut along with it. I, for one cannot take the idea of something ending. Limitations are suffocating. Claustrophobic to the point of “how free are you on the scale of 1 to America” whence July the 4th.

Do books end? Physically, yes. Via paperback or hardback. Figuratively, no. Ever heard of fanfiction? It’s not just a website for penning down the what if’s and the what could have been’s or what the children of the seventeen year old protagonists would look like ten years later. It’s a living vat of butter churning away in everyone’s brains all day, everyday. The characters, the story, the facial expressions, the very way they “speak” are basically alive in us. It’s living in us, inhabiting our very beings whether that’s involuntarily or voluntarily.

Going back to Lloyd Jones and appropriating that to the digital age, however, a physically-bound book can literally stop you from looking up when your house is alight. (Have you seen those Folio Society books?) If you’re using a smart little phone, the key word is little. It’s small enough for your peripheral vision to take in the burning curtains and scream (or maybe snapchat) its poor demise. Tragic, really.

‘A person entranced by a book simply forgets to breathe.’
And this. Does this mean that when the book kills you, everything ends then? Tragically, yes. Metaphorically, no. Death is simply the beginning. You know what? Perhaps I’ll even write a story about that.

To the River of Styx it is!

Posted on in Media, Networked Media, Production

To err or not to err.

In every Twitter profile page, there’s an opportunity for one to state where they originate.

(Tupac, anyone?)

Models, celebrities, self-proclaimed professional photographers with their obscure-coloured Holga’s, “I’m K for Kardashian,” and perhaps even B Obama himself would lodge the A Walk to Remember reference with being two places at once. e.g. LA/NY.
Some hanker for a bit of attention: where there’s wifi (puhlease). And then you’ve got your fangirls and were we really like that back whence tween? Location: Harry Styles’ heart.

Cue my shudder and I prefer the strong jaw. Now that is where it’s at.

My misconstrued idea about social media stems from trailing my favourite celebrities and their endless promotional posts about cats, favourite new songs and aggressive conversations with fellow celebrities/close friends with no prior context whatsoever. And when we do think up of a witty reply that will sure get them to notice you, they’ve gone to bed because boo you, timezones.

But alas, such entertainment. One may only follow certain people just cause. But the trolling happens with an idea and a click of that magnifying glass once every five minutes.

Be-ware.