free variable

Brand identity

I got the following ad in a spam message from Williams-Sonoma recently:

Murphy dictates that if I make a snarky comment on this ad, the probability that a friend or relative secretly owns and cherishes this item will approach unity. I can’t resist, though. Honestly, what sort of grade-A goofball brands steaks? You aren’t advertising your particular steaks, are you? It’s not like you’re tracking the steaks from fridge to flame to table, is it? It certainly seems highly improbable that this product solves the same problem as traditional cattle branding, although some means to ease identification and recovery would be handy in the event that a “steak rustler” lures the steaks away from your grill.

Furthermore, how much of a megalomaniac must one be to put his own initials on food before serving it to family or guests? It seems like such a gesture is most appropriate if one wishes to say “Yes, you are in my house. Consider yourself fortunate that I have slain and charred this organic sirloin myself.”

(Of course, even the worst spam from Williams-Sonoma is preferable to the unending deluge of missives advertising mythical Rolex “replica” watches that turn their bearer into a low-mortgage-rate negotiating Priapus.)

Copyright: still not just about the Benjamins

On May 26, NPR’s Morning Edition breathlessly reported that an all-female production of the musical Grease was threatened with a lawsuit (for violating the terms of the license) and subsequently scuttled.

Although NPR tried to squeeze a story out of this non-event by emphasizing the politically-charged gender-related aspects, their report simply described a legal and logical consequence of how copyright works. If you want to perform a work for which I own the copyright, then you will have to agree to my terms, which can be as arbitrary or onerous as I like. There are all sorts of examples of such terms, ranging from the Gershwin estate’s insistence on black performers for Porgy and Bess (the NPR report mentioned this, to their credit) to Sir Paul McCartney’s restrictions on the orchestrations used in cover versions of his songs. (As a result, my planned “polka/techno” remake of “Live and Let Die” will have to wait until about AD 2498, when the copyright on the original is due to expire.)

Given the reporter’s apparent surprise at how copyright works (currently and always), I should not have been shocked that only one side of the philosophical discussion raised by the report was treated, but I do like to believe that I can occasionally expect a little more from NPR. It seems to me that the report didn’t adequately present the copyright holders’ side. That is, if I own the rights to “famous musical X,” isn’t it in my best interests to ensure that a production advertised as X substantially resembles, say, X? While an X with an all-terrier cast or an X in which all dialogue has been replaced by the sounds of stagehands slowly letting the air out of balloons may boldly challenge our notions of species and communication, they are also liable to limit the potential audience. It seems perfectly reasonable to me that a rights holder would wish to restrict the scope of derivative works presented as X — that is, after all, just protecting brand identity.

The discussion of copyright is often couched in monetary terms — especially since the No Electronic Theft Act of 1997 made a federal felony out of infringement even absent a profit motive. (Previously, this would have been a civil matter.) However, money is merely one effect of the purpose of copyright: granting artists control over their works. There’s more to say on this matter, to be sure, but not here.

Two great tastes that taste great together

Linked without comment.

Oh, if you insist, here’s a comment:

• “You got your ‘toilet humour’ in my ‘traditional academic paper!’”
• “Yeah, well, you got your ‘traditional academic paper’ in my ‘toilet humour!’”

(Thanks to my network of spies in the humanities for the link — it does seem that CFPs in some disciplines are an unintentional comedy goldmine.)