Journal
 

Friday, January 21, 2005

A Hundred and Ticket

So Aviva shows me this complicated game she's devised, involving whacking this big yellow ball (as big as she is) so it caroms chaotically off chairs and tables and ends up somewhere in the room.

Aviva: "And see, it tells you how old you are."

Me: "Really?"

Aviva: "Yes. Like, if it ends up here, you are a hundred and ticket."

Me: "A hundred and ticket? What's that?"

Aviva: "That's the biggest number."

Me: "Really?"

Aviva: "Yes. If you get to be a hundred and ticket and one, you die."

Me: (stunned silence)

Aviva: "On your birthday."

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Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Start remixing Start the Clock

Well, putting "The Orange" and "Embracing-the-New" under a Creative Commons license (as originally noted here) elicited such lovely things that I have decided to go further this time!

"Start the Clock" was written as part of Jay Lake and Frank Wu's Exquisite Corpuscle project, a chaintale anthology in which a painting inspired a story, which inspired a poem, which inspired a play, and so on, with the creator of each work seeing only the work preceding it in the chain -- like a game of Telephone. The anthology should be coming out from Wheatland Press this spring, but Jay and Frank were kind enough to not ask for First Serial Rights, so I published the story in F&SF last August.

I am now releasing it under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Sharealike license. This means that not only can you redistribute the story noncommercially without asking me (put it on balloons, read it as part of your wedding, etc.), as long as you credit me -- as you can with "The Orange" and "Embracing-the-New" -- now you can create noncommercial derivative works as well, as long as you credit me and distribute your works under the same license (that is, you allow people to remix the remixes). So you can make movies, comic books, sequels, etc. to "Start the Clock". You only have to ask me if you find yourself getting money for your derivative works (although I'd love to see any derivative works, regardless).

Remixing seems particularly appropriate for this story, since as part of the Exquisite Corpuscle, it was written as a response to Diana Sherman's play "Summer Children", and Mary Anne Mohanraj wrote a poem in response to it.

It may be hubristic to assume that anyone will want to remix "Start the Clock". (Also, I should point out, you don't really need any kind of license to simply allude to, parody, be inspired by, or imitate a work -- fair use is very broad). But the idea is kind of fun. And I feel strongly about growing the Commons from which all art feeds -- especially now, in the midst of a vast corporate intellectual-property land grab to rival the agricultural enclosures of the eighteenth century, which similarly disenfranchised legions of essential customary rights. (I'm talking about things like patents on genes, perennial revisions of the copyright law to extend licenses, the insane growth of patent law to cover trivial business processes and obvious software algorithms -- One-Click buying, "multimedia" and the like, and successful lobbying by copyright holders to try and cripple technology by law to make it easier for them to enforce [and invent!] their "rights".)

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Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Thought for the day

Protestantism is open-sourced Catholicism.

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Saturday, January 8, 2005

Favorite Song

Me: So Aviva, what's your favorite song?

Aviva: Another Brick in The Wall.

Me: Yeah?

Aviva: And I think that's always gonna be my favorite song because the words "hey, teacher, leave those kids alone" are so nice.

(That's my girl....)

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Wednesday, January 5, 2005

Preliminarily Nebulous

My story Embracing-the-New is on the Preliminary Nebula Ballot, along with books and stories by Greg (for In the Late December, which I loved), Chris (for The Voluntary State, which is really cool), Cory (for the excellent Down and Out In The Magic Kingdom), my Clarion instructors Connie Willis and Bradley Denton (for the lovely "Sergeant Chip"), and many other lumniaries. Whee!

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Monday, January 3, 2005

Poem for my parents

To Karen and David On Their 40th Anniversary

My parent's love is not the quiet kind --
where everyone agrees, or else demurs.
My parents are not always of one mind;
  sometimes they ought to stay on different floors.

My parents have divided up the house:
the surreal paintings his, the sofa hers;
the laundry and the stove now in dispute.
And each their chosen route to Giant or the bank
  as best, with heated cries avers.

But when he sneakily procures a trip
to hustle her to England by surprise
-- or when she talks about his days of battling bureaucrats
-- or when they argue over how they met
  (how long he gave her to make up her mind)
you see a pride and warm delight in both their eyes
  which no amount of quibbling
    over mercury in tuna and the better bottled water
      can disguise.

They are the kind to drive all day or night
to fetch a child who's sick, or visit those in need.
They do not quarrel over what is right --
which sacrifice to make, or how
  to shower children with insistent love and pride.
Or take the aged in. Or tell the truth.

He votes for Bush -- she rolls her eyes, and grits her teeth.
She leaves the attic open, and he growls and storms about.
And still:

It's quite a love: unreasonable, and passionate and grand.
What's forged in steel, shrugs off small quakes,
and mighty hearts do fearsome
  (but fulfilling)
lives demand.

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Saturday, January 1, 2005

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Pointer to previous

In case you came here looking for my table of watchdog organizations' ratings of the efficiency and transparency of different tsunami relief organizations, it is on last month's page, though the conversation is ongoing. (Weirdly, it currently comes up first if you Google the words "tsunami" and "charity"; allow me to say that I did not really expect that when I posted the table on this rather infrequently frequented bloglet). I greatly appreciate everyone who contributed (and is contributing), to the information and to the relief effort.

On to happier topics, now.

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