Young People’s Plight – Page 4

Warning: Unpunishable Plagiarism

Plagiarism – the wrongful appropriation or purloining, and publication as one’s own, of the ideas, or the expression of the ideas (literary, artistic, musical, mechanical, etc.) of another.

OED, Vol. 11: 947

As OED’s definitions go, this one is pretty straightforward: you create something, another person passes it as his own – that’s wrong. It is also linguistically polite. Authors unrestricted by the structural conventions of dictionaries, can be more blunt about it. Late Alexander Lindey, a copyright attorney and author, in his 1951 Plagiarism and Originality wrote: “Plagiarism is literary – or artistic or musical – theft.”

Note that OED’s definition includes both
ideas and their expressions. Legally, however, only actual products are protected. The United States Copyright Office clearly states:

“Copyright does not protect ideas, concepts, systems, or methods of doing something. You may express your ideas in writing or drawings and claim copyright in you description, but be aware that copyright will not protect the idea itself as revealed in written or artistic work.”

To simplify: Copying Van Gogh’s Sunflowers to a stroke and passing it as your own work is illegal, but producing endless still-lifes of vases with flowers in Van Gogh’s style is absolutely OK. By the same token, reproducing somebody’s words verbatim without giving a proper citation is plagiarism, but recasting somebody’s original idea with your own words, details, and attributes cannot be legally challenged.

Generally speaking, the intention behind the exclusion of ideas from the copyright protection is founded in the possibility of several people coming up with the same thought at the same time. This indeed happens from time to time. However, more frequently than not, the law, as it stands right now, makes what I call an unpunishable plagiarism an okay thing.

Of course, it is infrequent that someone copies a painting, or steals a score from another musician’s computer. Actions like that can lead to criminal and/or civil law suits. From time to time, we hear about people being expelled from schools or lose their jobs and professional creditability on account of plagiarism.

Sometimes, such allegations are unfounded and cleverly used to mar the innocent competition. The fabulous Alan Rickman, whose character in the Broadway production of Theresa Rebeck’s Seminar became a victim of such a scam, moaned with all the heart-wrenching pain his ample talent was capable to deliver: “Oh, to be accused of such a thing…” For him it’s the worst possible shame. A rare man!

However, when it comes to original ideas, only individual morals stand between one person’s precious imaginative jewel and another person’s grabby hand. Unfortunately, morality being what it is in the present time, theft of the original ideas is far more common than pickpocketing and purse snatching. As originality becomes more and more of a deficit, the stealing of it becomes more and more pervasive. I personally don’t care whether it’s legal or not. To me it’s worse than a theft – it’s an intellectual rape, a snatching of babies born in a torrent of a creative labor.

In business environments it happens every day. Those who watch NBC’s popular series Grimm know that the show’s core feature is to give a fairy-tale spin to contemporary life. In a second season’s episode Nameless, a video game company celebrates the development of a groundbreaking code. Everyone involved in the programming of this extraordinary algorithm stands to make millions. As it turns out, however, none of the people taking credit for it had actually authored the breakthrough idea. It was appropriated by the team leader from a tech guy who came to reboot her system and offered the brilliant solution in exchange for a date. Not only that she had no qualms about accepting the praise and the rewards, she wasn’t planning to keep the date promise either. She didn’t even remember the guys name.

Whether in business or arts, the worst idea thieves are your peers, especially those who work with you. Trust me, I know it first-hand. One such incident occurred during my time as a high-tech CFO. We were preparing for a teleconference with our venture-capital investors. My fellow board member, the VP of Marketing, strolled into my office and asked for my opinion about the topics to be discussed. You know, at the time the Internet companies were marked by a sense of democracy and camaraderie. So, I let my guard down and laid out my thoughts. All these years later, I still remember the shock I felt, when this guy took the lead of the meeting and repeated everything I told him verbatim, without giving me any credit, of course.

It goes without saying that the world of arts and entertainment is a fucking snake pit that lives by the motto “Everybody steals.” It’s pretty much an every-day practice.

No matter how many musicians and fans scorned Vanilla Ice’s shameless “re-phrasing” of the Queen/Bowie genius bass riff, “Ice Ice Baby” made millions, was nominated for a Grammy and won the American Music Award. It only got worse since. I happened to personally know a human equivalent of a music encyclopedia, and I constantly hear from her: “Wait a minute, I already heard this on…”

In Woody Allen’s Vicky, Christina, Barcelona Penelope Cruz’s character Maria Elena bluntly states that Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem), a commercially successful artist, stole his entire painting style from her. First, he reluctantly acknowledges that, yes, she was “influential,” and later admits that “maybe he took from her more than he likes to admit.” Really? With a hint of sarcasm Maria Elena says: “It’s okay. We worked side by side for many years, and you adopted my vision of the world as your own.”

Speaking of movies, it’s impossible to get an unknown writer’s script into a decision-maker’s hands. 99% of studios and production companies do not accept unsolicited (i.e. not represented by an agent) material. And even if you do get someone to read your script or to hear your pitch, the first thing you will need to do is to sign a legal document promising that you will never-ever sue that entity for stealing your idea. Why? Because, if they don’t like the script but like the idea, they will most definitely steal it.

There is this tiny (in terms of viewership – $342K gross) Craig Lucas’s movie called The Dying Gaul (2005). It is a feeble attempt to expose Hollywood’s perversity and corruption. In spite of the presence of indy VIP’s Campbell Scott, Patricia Clarkson, and Peter Sarsgaard, whose pull must be responsible for a $4 million budget, the movie is an unremarkable failure. (Let’s be honest, ever since Robert Altman’s The Player (1992), you really need something extraordinary up your sleeve to embark on this theme.) Yet, the film has one valuable tidbit of a real truth in it: When the main character refuses to change his script from a tragic gay love story into a heterosexual romance, the big-time producer with a $1 million check in his hand warns, “If you refuse, you will walk out of here with nothing, and I will give your story to someone else to rewrite.”

But don’t think that only the unknown writers fall victims to Tinseltown’s shameless pilfering of ingenuity. The moment I saw a poster for Night in the Museum, I had a bizarre thought that Ben Stiller somehow managed to convince Gore Vidal to lend the movie a brilliant plot device from his novel The Smithsonian Institution (1998) . You see, it was Vidal who made the historical characters come to life, most notably Teddy Roosevelt (but not dinosaurs). Apparently, I was not the only one who noticed the uncanny similarity: the great writer himself openly spoke about it in various media. Of course, he wasn’t going to attempt any legal action – he’s been around the block way too many times (his first publication is dated 1946 and his oeuvre includes 14 screenplays).

Some occurrences of unpunishable plagiarism are simply ridiculous. In 2007, Joe Swanberg (another semi-known indy writer/director) made a practically unseen ($23K gross) movie called Hannah Takes the Stairs: Hannah (Greta Gerwig), a recent college graduate, is an intern and an aspiring writer, who is cruising from a relationship to relationship, trying to find her direction in life. Hmm… Wait a minute… Doesn’t this Hannah live on HBO now? Wasn’t she shoved into everyone’s face by the hipster media for the past 18 months or so? Wasn’t she supposed to be an alter ego of her “oh-so-original” creator, a “genius” on the list of “100 Most Influential People,” the one whose name I promised not to mention in my posts anymore? A coincidence? Nope. If anyone did see the 2007 movie, it would be this HBO’s you-know-who. After all, she is a friend and a collaborator (Nobody Walks) of Ry Russo-Young, who co-starred in Hannah Takes the Stairs.

Speaking of those Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it is my firm opinion that the biggest scrounger in fictional writing ever is J.K. Rowling. Don’t get me wrong, I love Harry Potter, but that woman sponged her material off everything she ever read (granted, she is a very well-read person). Let’s not drown ourselves in the boundless sea of magical names representing wizardly attributes: Lupin = wolf (Latin); Sirius = dog (Latin via Greek); Severus = serious, strict (Latin); Dumbledore = stream of gold (a combination of “dumble” – a Nottinghamshire local for a forested stream, and French “d’Or”), etc., etc., etc., etc. Instead, I’d like to point out a few very specific items:

Let me remind you that in 1961 Roald Dahl wrote a very popular book James and the Giant Peach about an orphan boy James Henry Trotter (Harry James Potter, anyone?!), whose loving parents were destroyed by a brutal rhino and who is forced to live with cruel aunts until a magician helps him to get out.
In Gaudy Night Dorothy Sayers’s lead character Harriet Vane describes her alma mater, Oxford’s Shrewsbury College, as an incredibly confusing place with seemingly moving stairs.
During Victorian times, British citizens started depositing their money in the banks in increasing numbers. Funny, they developed a slang term for the sovereigns the deposited – they called them “goblins.”

Actually, my list is so long, I can write another book. How about “Harry Potter Genesis, Or Did J.K. Rowling Come Up With Any Original Ideas?”

Obviously, I am very apprehensive about the usurping tendencies all around us. I know talented young people bursting with artistic ideas. Extraordinary pearls of originality simply roll off their tongues. It’s painful to admit it, but instead of enjoying their creativity, I behave like a robotic warning machine: “Keep it to yourself! Don’t share it with anybody! Stop dropping your pearls publicly! Why did you post that brilliant thing on fucking facebook?!” I know it makes me sound like a paranoid maniac (and it makes me feel real shitty), but what else can I do to protect them? Their artistic expressions are incredibly unique. Their verbiage is so catchy, their “friends” not only repeat it, but have the gall to claim it for themselves.

How can we possibly control this? How can we safeguard the originality? We can’t: There is no legal way and most humans lost any shreds of shame a long time ago. The only way to protect your ideas is to constantly convert them into products, so that you can stake your ownership via the copyright. And even then, as examples above show, you are not secured from various brands of scavengers.

Quote of the Week: More on Futurenomics of Higher Education

"Yes, you are absolute right. I don't even know what value a college degree has today. My son is graduating from The University of Tampa this year. He is having problems securing an internship. The job search appears to be hopeless altogether. So, I am like 'Why don't you go back to school and learn some plumbing? Because I just paid $1,000 to get my toilet unclogged.'"

Michele S., CDCS

Asst. VP Global Marketing

PNC Bank

(From a conversation during business dinner with The Frustrated CFO)

Read more on Futurenomics of Higher Education

To Those Who Doubt My Objectivity: HBO “Girls,” Season 2, Episode 8

Ok, I honestly thought that my post about the foreign press conspiracy was the last thing I would ever write about Lena Dunham, HBO’s Girls, the unjustified and pervasive brouhaha surrounding them, etc. But I was never joking when I said that merit and objectivity were placed very high on my hierarchy of values. They are so important to me that I can even look at a pool of shit, notice a few specks of goodness there, and effortlessly say, “This is a pool of shit, but those couple of things are quite good.”

No, I didn’t change my mind about Dunham’s creations so far, especially the ones she’s done on her own, without any help from other writing and directing talents; nor did I recant my opinion about the hipsters of media who buzz her up to the sky. But that doesn’t prevent me from objectively acknowledging that the 8th episode of the second season, It’s Back, was a remarkable breakthrough.

For the very first time, the show elevated itself to the level of truly generational significance. Because, if anything unites people in their 20s across geographical borders, nationalities, social origins, monetary standings, physical appearances, intellectual abilities, and creative talents, it’s the unprecedented levels of anxiety, uncertainty, disorientation, and doubt (whether deeply hidden or worn right there on their faces) we have instilled in them.

Yes, WE, most of all the parents, but also teachers, employers, mentors, and public figures – we fucked them young bitches up with our twisted, contradictory, egomaniacal, and unfounded “guidance!” We tell them to pursue their dreams, yet want them to be financially self-sufficient. We tell them that they can achieve whatever they want if they try their best, while knowing very well that no amount of hard work and talent can compete with inroads based on personal connections. We tell them that a higher education leads to better employment, while openly complaining about our own jobs. We convince them that they are talented, unique, smart, and beautiful, yet cannot summon enough decency to show them the respect they actually deserve.

And so, here, in episode 8, we have a gallery of ALL the lead characters presented in nearly equal measure (already an outstanding feat for “Girls”), with their various manifestations of the generational malady:

Absent is Jessa, the eternal quitter, once again wandering away in search of the false thrills of a “real life” (beautifully written out in the previous episode into her already-showing pregnancy by the Six Feet Under alumnus Bruce Eric Kaplan).

The dashing, gifted, interesting, and earnest Adam, who theoretically should not have any qualms about getting a girl, admitting to his blind date (set up by the girl’s mother), that he is so nervous, he’s “sweating bullets.” And we just know that he will fuck it up eventually.

The heart-broken Charlie, who drops his guitar and channels his pain into creating an iPhone app inspired by the obsessive pain inside him. Yes, he cashes in on it and, by “society’s standards,” he seems to be on the top of the world, but his sad eyes say otherwise. Moreover, we know all about the longevity of these startups.

The awkward Shoshanna, torn between the die-hard concept that college is supposed to be “the best time of one’s life” (never mind all those NYU suicides) and the reality that she lives with an adult man whom she actually supports; scared that, whether successful or not, she will be just as lost as her friends after graduation.

The “adult” Ray himself, a self-proclaimed “homeless loser,” who is smart and possibly talented (in something), but is trapped in the reality that he cannot find a way into the world, in which he believes he belongs. Yet, he still feels that he has a right to give advice to his fellow struggler “to stop being a cartographer, and start being an explorer.”

Here is Marnie, standing in front of Ray, crushed by disillusion and failing to be “the most likely to succeed.” Pushed to the edge, she admits that all she wants to do is to sing… and turns out she has a beautiful instrument for it too. Who could possibly know? She was hiding it from everyone.

And there is Hannah… This is the first show on television that unflinchingly uncovered a true portrait of OCD, without providing any comically cutesy cushions for the audience – just a straight blow to the head in all its ugliness. This is what it’s really like – exhausting and debilitating, leaving you feeling powerless, reduced to a fucking puppet. This is also the first time someone showed with an admirable subtlety what it does to a girl when her loving father tells her: “You can’t be anorexic – I’ve seen you in a bathing suit.”

Considering the track record up to this point, it’s hard to believe that all of it was fitted into one episode. It was written by three people – Lena Dunham herself, Steven Rubinshteyn (who served as Ms. Dunham’s assistant for the two seasons), and Deborah Schoeneman (who worked as the story editor on the show). The rich material gave Jesse Peretz an opportunity to use his directorial skills for real.

And they did all this without any cheap tricks: no false dramatics, no incoherent story turns, no random bare breasts and asses. Instead, the episode was finally able to achieve a high degree of emotional nakedness.

Is this the beginning of a transformation? I hope so. Episode 9, On All Fours, (written by Dunham and Jenni Konner, directed by Dunham) is definitely an excellent follow up. I always said, that Lena Dunham is a capable person, who will get better as she learns from other talented people. But, on her own, she has a long way to go before she can truly live up to the hype around her. Will she learn humility and start giving credits where they are due? Who knows?

Interestingly enough, as reported by The Atlantic Wire on March 7th, the co-authors of the It’s Back episode are not invited into the third season’s writers’ room. Moreover, everyone in that room has been fired. Only a few older pros will be allowed to share credits with Ms. Dunnam in the third season: Apatow, Konner, Kaplan, Heyward. Maybe it will help Lena to hold on to her “so young, so brilliant” status longer? These people will always be older than her. You know who else is pegged to participate? Dunham’s parents. Reverse nepotism? Oh, well…

Quote of the Week: Occupy Wall Street

Intro to the quote:

Observing Occupy Wall Street protesters right there by Zuccotti park, my cynic mind could not help itself to see social, rather than political event. Guys and gals hanging around, having a good time. Many analysts from all over the world have been trying to understand if these people have any agenda, if their protesting have some sort of intelligent purpose. And there is nothing… Just young people with nothing better to do being upset that they cannot become rich and famous overnight. Very few of them have attained above average complex of general knowledge and they know nothing about work ethics. In their poorly constructed bursts of words they bring up "disappearance of the middle class," but none of them understands that you are not born into middle class – you have to work for it, and maybe after 20 years of professional excellence you can claim your rightful place among its members. The paper wealth of Wall Street phenomenon is a perversion, no question about that. But securities balloons are not the only reasons middle class disappears in this country. None of the protesters want to work real jobs to earn their daily bread, or start small businesses that would keep them physically and mentally busy 24/7. Instead they want to magically transport themselves into the very places occupied by people with million-dollar bonuses they claim to despise.

And then there was that September 30th plot concocted by the protest organizers in order to get more people on location by announcing a Radiohead appearance?! People who supposedly oppose the concept of misleading, blatantly lied to the general public! What's up with that? There could only be three possible explanations why these protesters did not run away in shame after the falsification was exposed – they are either blind, stupid, or really have nothing else to do.

Meanwhile, the electronics were polluted with the false news of Radiohead's "spontaneous concert", and exchanges among some people I know have produced some wonderful pearls (I know a few very smart people). One of my funniest friends felt sorry for the "poor hippies crawling over each other's stomped bodies."

But the first prize definitely goes to the following quote:

"It's the perfect cherry on top of their worship of spectacle rather than substance."

Zach Caceras

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