Das Thema Urheberrecht, Copyright, kreative Wirtschaft und KünstlerInnen, die von Paranoia und Angst ums »eigene Werk« und Existenzängsten getrieben sind, ist so umfassend und divers, dass ich in meiner Recherche, die eigentlich ein andauernder Prozess ist und mir viel Kopfweh bereitet, noch nicht gewagt habe einen eigenen Text zu veröffentlichen. Und zugegeben, ich habe auch noch keinen richtig guten und leicht unterhaltsamen Einstieg gefunden, der meiner durchaus ansteigenden Wut über diese oben genannten Phänomene und den ganzen vertrottelten Auswüchsen,
Missverständnissen und Verwirrungen gerecht wird.
Bei meiner Recherche aber bin ich über Aymeric Mansoux‘s textliches Experiment gestoßen, das mich sehr amüsiert hat und das ich hier gerne verbreiten möchte – und ich darf das!
Aymeric Mansoux, der, nebenbei erwähnt, seit 2010 servus-Mitglied ist, veröffentlicht diesen Text auf seinem Blog (http://su.kuri.mu) unter zwei verschieden Lizenzen. Einmal unter CC BY-SA 3.0, und einmal besonders amüsant unter einer eigens erstellten [CP] COPYPASTE License 1.0 (besonders lesenswert: http://cp.kuri.mu/)

Folgender Text basiert auf Vladimir Yakovlevich Propps Essay »Morphology of the Folktale« aus dem Jahr 1928. Das Studium vieler verschiedener russischer
Volksmärchen ermöglichte es Propp, deren narrative Struktur und verschieden Funktionsweisen zu analysieren, schreibt Aymeric. Dadurch gelang es ihm buchstäblich ein 31 Stufen Rezept zu entwickeln, um neue, ähnliche Geschichten abzuleiten. Aymeric wendet diese Methode an und veröffentlicht:


Once upon a time in the wonderful Folklore Valley, a creator wonders about the becoming of her memetic folktale legacy and decides to take some distance from the anonymous creative practices of her community.

The creator is warned by a giant caption. It reads: »Do Not Want«.

Despite the viral warning, the creator leaves her community and starts to sign her work as a mean to legitimate her individual contribution to the folktale scene.

On her way to authorship, she encounters the Lawyer and the Publisher.

The Lawyer delivers rights to the creator.

The creator becomes the Author.

At this point the Author and the Publisher begin to promote copyright laws in the Folklore Valley.

With the help of the Lawyer, the Publisher uses the Author as an excuse to transform the Folklore Valley into a profitable folktale factory.

The Author receives distressed calls from another creator persecuted by the Publisher for making a derivative work from a copyrighted folktale.

The Author hears the sound of a flute. The free melody comes from a campsite, beyond the Folklore Valley.

The Author leaves the, now fully copyrighted, Folklore Valley and heads toward the campsite, attracted by the melody of this open invitation. The Lawyer is following her from a distance.

Arrived at the campsite, the Author learns from the Man with a Beard, that useful information should be free. And by free he is not referring to its price. The Lawyer, hiding, is listening attentively. The Man with a Beard resumes his flute practice.

Leaving the campsite, the Author wonders whether or not cultural expressions can also be free and, somehow, now liberated from copyright.

The Lawyer appears in front of the Author and hands over free culture licenses.

With the help of remix culture, the Lawyer uses the Author as an excuse to transform the Folklore Valley into a techno-legal free for all bureaucratic maze.

With licensing proliferation, the Author cannot cope with the increasing complexity linked to her practice. She feels that she lost all control over her work, just so it can be used as fuel for the ever expanding information network nurtured by the Lawyer and the Publisher.

Regardless of what her true intentions are, her whole body of work gets tattooed with different logos, iconic representations of supposedly human readable deeds that all reinforce the many conflicting ideologies, commercial interests and beliefs now rationalised by copyright laws and their different copyleft-inspired hacks.

The only escape left is to ignore copyright, no matter what. Leave everything behind, a small personal victory, over the techno-legal machine, but a first step towards the liberation of the Folklore Valley.

As a result, the Author becomes Pirate of her own work, of any work, once again. She puts on an eyepatch.

The Pirate returns to the, now fully copyfreed, copyrighted, copylefted and copyfarlefted incompatible and fragmented Folklore Valley. The Publisher and the Lawyer make sure everything is tidy and sound. Vladimir Propp’s Morphology of the Folktale becomes a patented algorithm for a freemium manufacture that feeds itself automatically from the aggregation of open content produced by the Folklore Valley’s creators. She has something to say about that.

The Publisher and the Lawyer, who see the presence of the Pirate as a serious threat to their information empire, start several campaigns of misinformation to question the legitimacy of the Pirate to comment on anything but her unlawful, therefore moralistically evil, activities. This undermining process is strengthen by increasingly aggressive, punitive and gratuitous repression mechanisms towards any creators who might want to follow her footsteps.

The Pirate escapes for a while from the Publisher and the Lawyer by using the underground networks of tunnels and caverns right under the, now fully tracked, logged, cloudified and gamified, Folklore Valley.

Eventually, the Pirate decides to face the surface of the Valley instead of living the rest of her life as some underground rat. She emerges right in the middle of an astonished crowd of brainwashed creators and template-based folktales.

The Publisher and the Lawyer steps in and deliver the usual moralistic speech, the one that kept the creators of the Folklore Valley quiet and under control all this time. The fear of being stolen can be felt in all the tales, panic is about to break loose.

25. TASK
The publisher and the Lawyer challenges the Pirate. They argue that she has no rights to comment on the situation. She is merely a parasite, a free rider who has no clue of what is at stake.

The Pirate drops her eyepatch.

All of sudden all the creators recognise the Author. The one Author who once started to sign many of the folktales that are now used as licensed templates in the tale factories planted by the Lawyer and the Publisher. And they all listen to her…

The Author explains her journey.
Since her individualistic awakening she started to initiate many experiments and ways of working with her medium, using others’ material directly or indirectly. She was interested in as many collaborative methodologies as there were colours in the world. She explains that, as her practice grew, she felt the need to sign and mark her work in a way or another, and was confused about this sudden paradox: on the one hand her desire to be just this simple node in this continuous stream of creativity, and on the other hand she had this instinctive need to stand above her peers, to shine and be visible for her own contribution. She also tells them about her needs to simply make a living and therefore, why she genuinely thought copyright was a fair model, harmless for her audience and peers. She says that she equally failed to understand that the freedom they once had as a community of folktale creators cannot be emulated
through contract laws, no matter what good intentions drive them. She concludes that at every stage of her quest to understand the very fabric of culture,
the Publisher and the Lawyer were present to enable and support her experiments, yet slowly getting stronger and out of control. If anything at all, she feels responsible for letting them decide how her work, how culture, should be produced and consumed.
She apologises.

The Author becomes a creator, once again.

The Publisher’s and the Lawyer’s work is undone. Copyright is banned from the Folklore Valley.

The creator marries another creator. They live happily ever after, creating many new folktales.As for the Man with a Beard, I was told that he turned his campsite into a brewery, but that’s another story…

Freiwillige ÜbersetzerInnen, die der englischen Sprache mächtig sind, bitte bei mir melden! Ich zahle auch gerne ein Honorar für eine Übersetzung (pinguin@servus.at).


Workshop 7. & 8. September 2012:
Wie mache ich meine eigenen Solarzellen?

Wir freuen uns auf den Workshop mit Selena Savic. Savic wurde in Belgrad geboren. 2006 hat sie das Studium Architektur in Belgrad abgeschlossen und in Rotterdam am Piet Zwart Institute 2010 einen Master in Medien Design absolviert. Im Moment arbeitet sie an ihrem Doktorat zum Thema »Konstruktion und Vermittlung von sozialen und öffentlichen Raum durch Kommunikationstechnologie«.
Von 1. bis 15. September hat Selena eine Residency im Atelierhaus Salzamt, Linz. Das Projekt, an dem sie zur Zeit arbeitet, beschäftigt sich mit interaktiven Strukturen, die sich durch WiFi (Wireless Local Area Network) Signale dynamisch verändern. Für dieses Projekt wird ein Netzwerk aufgesetzt. Der ganze Datenverkehr geht über dieses Netzwerk und wird mit Hilfe von Netzwerksicherheits-Werkzeugen weiterverarbeitet. Die ankommende »Information« wird unterschiedlich analysiert und an verschiedene physikalische Objekte im realen Raum gesendet.

7. & 8. September 2012 @ servus Clubraum
Teilnahme: ca. 60 Euro
(inkl. Material und Verpflegung)

Das Ziel des Workshops ist eine unabhängige Stromversorgung für Objekte im öffentlichen Raum zu bauen! Im Workshop werden ausschließlich organische Materialien verwendet, um Grätzel‘s Farbstoffsolarzellen (Grätzl Zelle) herzustellen. Mit diesem patentierten Prozess hat Prof. Michael Grätzel 2010 den »Millennium Technology Prize« gewonnen.
Von leicht zugänglichen Materialien (Glas, Beeren, Tee, Graphit und Betainen) werden wir Energie gewinnen. Jede Zelle produziert um die 0.4V im hellen Sonnenlicht. Neben den Zellen werden wir Objekte bauen, die unter sehr niedriger Energie betrieben werden können. Diese Objekte werden unsichtbare Informationen in das elektromagnetische Spektrum senden. (z.B.: low-power radio transmitters, Xbees) Diese Zellen herzustellen macht Spaß, ist aber ein fehleranfälliger Prozess, weil nicht alle Zellen die gleiche Energie abgeben. Gemeinsam werden wir versuchen mindestens 10 Zellen herzustellen, die dann miteinander verbunden werden können, um ein Objekt zu betreiben.

Selena Savic: http://kucjica.org/