"The Founding Fathers of this great land had no difficulty whatsoever understanding the agenda of bankers, and they frequently referred to them and their kind as, quote, 'friends of paper money.' They hated the Bank of England, in particular, and felt that even were we successful in winning our independence from England and King George, we could never truly be a nation of freemen, unless we had an honest money system. Through ignorance, but moreover, because of apathy, a small, but wealthy, clique of power brokers have robbed us of our Rights and Liberties, and we are being raped of our wealth. We are paying the price for the near-comatose levels of complacency by our parents, and only God knows what might become of our children, should we not work diligently to shake this country from its slumber! Many a nation has lost its freedom at the end of a gun barrel, but here in America, we just decided to hand it over voluntarily. Worse yet, we paid for the tyranny and usurpation out of our own pockets with "voluntary" tax contributions and the use of a debt-laden fiat currency!" ~ Peter Kershaw
The Lesson of 9/11
I've argued against intellectual property elsewhere. But here's a short and sweet version of the argument: Suppose I compose a poem and recite it to you. As a result, you learn the poem by heart. In effect, there is now a copy of the poem stored in your brain. Who owns that copy? The only answer must be: you do. You own yourself; you own your brain and the contents of your brain. If I owned the copy in your brain, then I would be a part owner of your brain, which would make you a partial slave ' which is morally untenable. Now in addition to owning your brain and the poem stored within, you also own, let's suppose, a pen and some paper. You use your pen to transcribe onto the paper the poem that's stored in your head. Now there are two copies of my poem in your possession: one in your brain and one on the paper. Who owns the second copy? Once again, you do. You produced that second copy using nothing but factors that you owned: your paper, your pen, and your brain (with your neuron-encoded first copy of my poem). That second copy is yours ' to keep, to burn, or to transfer. Yes, to transfer. If you give or sell your copy to someone else, or if you use your copy to make a new copy to give or sell to someone else, or if you allow others to use your copy to make new copies, you are making a peaceful use of your own property. You are violating no rights. 'But,' I protest, 'that's my poem you're selling!' No, it isn't. You're not selling any concrete copies of the poem that are in my possession ' I still own those and can control access to them as I please. Nor are you selling the abstract object of which all these copies are instances. You can't sell an abstract object. Abstract objects can't be transferred. They are not scarce resources; one person does not lose access to the abstract object just because someone else has gained access. All you're selling is your copies of the poem. Which is your perfect right. They're yours to do with as you please. 'But,' I protest once more, 'I created that abstract object. That makes it my property!' Well, what does it mean to own an abstract object? One thing it might mean is that I own all the instances of that abstract object. In which case I'm engaged in fraud if I claim to be selling copies of my work; if I still claim copyright in them, then I'm claiming to own the copies and so I've never really sold them. But if owning an abstract object means owning all the instances, then it means my owning the copy of my poem in your brain. In that case, intellectual property is a form of slavery. If slavery is illegitimate, then so is intellectual property. On the other hand, if owning an abstract object doesn't mean owning its instances, then what does it mean? In selling your concrete copies of my poem, you don't interfere in any way with my access to the abstract object. So what 'ownership' of mine are you infringing? Either intellectual property means slavery, or it means nothing at all. 'crasez l'inf'me.