Who owns my words?
Who owns my words? I do, of course. An agreement where my words belong to someone else is simply unnatural. No one else cares about my words as I do. No one else put them in this particular order.
How can Michael Jackson or some corporation own the words and music of John Lennon and Paul McCartney? Certainly Capitol Records and Northern Songs provided a platform for Lennon and McCartney to be heard, but the song exists separately from that platform. It makes sense that Capitol could and should own the recording, and Northern Songs could own the published notations of the song, but the song forever belongs to Lennon and McCartney ... as Superman belongs to Jerry Siegel and Joe Schuster ... as Sherlock Holmes belongs to A. Conan Doyle... as Romeo and Juliet belong to Shakespeare.
I understand copyright laws and ownership of intellectual property. I just don't believe it's right to separate creator from creation. I own my words. You may pay me for the right to reproduce my words in your venue, or we may enter an agreement where I pay you to reproduce my words with your printing press or broadcast waves or Web site, but they are still my words and always will be.
I own my words. Everything else we negotiate about my words flows from that premise. B.W. Richardson, Sept. 18, 2005
Who owns B.W. Richardson? I do, of course, not some corporation, not some government. Who am I? Ah ... that is what this is all about, now, isn't it?
How can Michael Jackson or some corporation own the words and music of John Lennon and Paul McCartney? Certainly Capitol Records and Northern Songs provided a platform for Lennon and McCartney to be heard, but the song exists separately from that platform. It makes sense that Capitol could and should own the recording, and Northern Songs could own the published notations of the song, but the song forever belongs to Lennon and McCartney ... as Superman belongs to Jerry Siegel and Joe Schuster ... as Sherlock Holmes belongs to A. Conan Doyle... as Romeo and Juliet belong to Shakespeare.
I understand copyright laws and ownership of intellectual property. I just don't believe it's right to separate creator from creation. I own my words. You may pay me for the right to reproduce my words in your venue, or we may enter an agreement where I pay you to reproduce my words with your printing press or broadcast waves or Web site, but they are still my words and always will be.
I own my words. Everything else we negotiate about my words flows from that premise. B.W. Richardson, Sept. 18, 2005
Who owns B.W. Richardson? I do, of course, not some corporation, not some government. Who am I? Ah ... that is what this is all about, now, isn't it?
posted by B.W. Richardson at
12:01 PM
1 Comments:
One Sunday morning, after attending church services in Hartford, Connecticut, Mark Twain said to Dr. Doane, the minister: "I enjoyed your services this morning, doctor. I welcomed it like an old friend. I have, you know, a book at home containing every word of it."
"You have not," said the indignant Dr. Doane.
"I have so," countered Twain.
"Then send it to me. I'd very much like to see it."
"I'll send it," promised Mark and the following day he sent the Reverend Dr. Doane an unabridged dictionary.
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