Can You Really
STEAL THIS ZINE
Or Is Property Just an Illusion?
JEFF SEZ: "Technically. Let's face it, if I purged my mailing list of all the freeloaders, I'd have about five people left, and if I wanted you punished for stealing this zine, I'd have to start paying for my photocopies, which would quickly beggar me. So let's call it a wash and let it drift."
Oh man, it's the new Inner Swine! WHAT?!?! TWO FUCKING DOLLARS?!?! Screw that noise, man. I'm stealing it.
FRIENDS, somehow you're in possesion of The Inner Swine, and are most likely disappointed with it, and who can blame you.
I don't know how you came into possesion of it. Maybe you bought it at a store, for cash money. Maybe you sent me money in the mail. Maybe you just sent me a nice note or a trade in the mail. Hell, maybe you just emailed me and I sent you one, which I often do.
Then again, perhaps a friend gave it to you, smirking as they said
"Read this. It'll make you feel better about
yourself."
Or maybe you borrowed it from them after reading a few pages in the bathroom of their dim, cramped apartment. Maybe you found it at a library of sorts, or sitting on a seat on the bus, or in the garbage.
In a sense, anything which you’re not supposed to have unless you’ve offered up something in exchange for it can be considered ‘stolen’ under certain circumstances. Since The Inner Swine is ostensibly for sale in exchange for US greenbacks, it’s possible to classify it as ‘stolen’ if you came into possesion of it without being able to define the exchange that took place - money, a trade zine, stamps, whatever. However, I don’t think you can ever really be accused of ‘stealing’ TIS, even if you’re reading this in the parking lot of your local Tower Records store after boosting it off the zine rack.
This is due to two damning reasons: a) I give away far too many of these bastards and b) I steal quite a bit of stuff to make this zine in the first place. Technically. Let’s face it, if I purged my mailing list of all the freeloaders, I’d have about five people left, and if I wanted you punished for stealing this zine, I’d have to start paying for my photocopies, which would quickly beggar me. So let’s call it a wash and let it drift.
This leads me to wonder, though, if in any sense you actually own this copy of TIS. if you can’t really steal it, can you own it? Certainly, you can possess it. You can have it in your hands, and as the saying goes possession is 99% of the law. Then again, I give away all my back issues in digital format on the Internet. They’re free. So while you can posses a copy of this zine, you can’t really own the words in it, can you?
The question really is, though, can I? Do I own The Inner Swine? More importantly, do I own the words within it? Because I can certainly trademark the term The Inner Swine, and I can copyright the words within it, but really, once I mail out all these issues, do I have any effective control over the words written here? Nope. Even if I had millions of dollars and a staff of lawyers to try and enforce my wishes, it’d still be an impossible job. Once I send these words out, I lose control over them. I can’t control how you interpret them, how you feel about them, or whether you think they’re funny, or smart, or whatever. You can burn this issue, make copies of it, give it to your friends, resell it. There might be laws out there designed to give me some of that control, but as any Record Executive will tell you, enforcing those laws is a bitch.
So, I have no control - and that’s pretty much how it ought to be. Fuck control. Control is for pussies who aren’t sure their work is going to last under pressure, for simps who think their words are so delicate that poking and prodding from the unwashed masses will ruin them.
CONTROL IS FOR PUSSIES
After all, piggies, someday I will be dead, and whether this means my consciousness melts as my brain putrifies, screaming silently as the Earth absorbs my biological remains, or that I’m floating up on a cloud looking down, either way I’ve permenantly lost control over my words, yes? Soo all the sturm and drang I manage in life will, ultimately be useless. My words will survive or not based on their merits, and no amount of bullshit control will have any noticeable effect.
I’d rather have credit instead of control. Corporations prefer control because control can be translated into money, which is all a corporation cares about. I don’t care so much about money. It’d be nice to have some, and I appeal to everyone reading this to send me some, but fuck it. Long as you put my name next to everything I write, I’m happy. I’ll get money somehow. And when I’m doing time for screwing up some bank robbery or whatever and spending my days being raped by a guy named Tiny, I’ll blame you for not sending me money when I was so obviously making a cry for help. Bastards.
JEFF SEZ: "Technically. Let's face it, if I purged my mailing list of all the freeloaders, I'd have about five people left, and if I wanted you punished for stealing this zine, I'd have to start paying for my photocopies, which would quickly beggar me. So let's call it a wash and let it drift."
FRIENDS, somehow you're in possesion of The Inner Swine, and are most likely disappointed with it, and who can blame you.
Or maybe you borrowed it from them after reading a few pages in the bathroom of their dim, cramped apartment. Maybe you found it at a library of sorts, or sitting on a seat on the bus, or in the garbage.
circumstances. Since The Inner Swine is ostensibly for sale in exchange for US greenbacks, it’s possible to classify it as ‘stolen’ if you came into possesion of it without being able to define the exchange that took place - money, a trade zine, stamps, whatever. However, I don’t think you can ever really be accused of ‘stealing’ TIS, even if you’re reading this in the parking lot of your local Tower Records store after boosting it off the zine rack.
This is due to two damning reasons: a) I give away far too many of these bastards and b) I steal quite a bit of stuff to make this zine in the first place. Technically. Let’s face it, if I purged my mailing list of all the freeloaders, I’d have about five people left, and if I wanted you punished for stealing this zine, I’d have to start paying for my photocopies, which would quickly beggar me. So let’s call it a wash and let it drift.
This leads me to wonder, though, if in any sense you actually own this copy of TIS. if you can’t really steal it, can you own it? Certainly, you can possess it. You can have it in your hands, and as the saying goes possession is 99% of the law. Then again, I give away all my back issues in digital format on the Internet. They’re free. So while you can posses a copy of this zine, you can’t really own the words in it, can you?
After all, piggies, someday I will be dead, and whether this means my consciousness melts as my brain putrifies, screaming silently as the Earth absorbs my biological remains, or that I’m floating up on a cloud looking down, either way I’ve permenantly lost control over my words, yes? Soo all the sturm and drang I manage in life will, ultimately be useless. My words will survive or not based on their merits, and no amount of bullshit control will have any noticeable effect.
I’d rather have credit instead of control. Corporations prefer control because control can be translated into money, which is all a corporation cares about. I don’t care so much about money. It’d be nice to have some, and I appeal to everyone reading this to send me some, but fuck it. Long as you put my name next to everything I write, I’m happy. I’ll get money somehow. And when I’m doing time for screwing up some bank robbery or whatever and spending my days being raped by a guy named Tiny, I’ll blame you for not sending me money when I was so obviously making a cry for help. Bastards.