It is about to become a felony to engage in what a big company thinks should be considered copyright infringement. The people who support SOPA insist that the law is not intended to go after small time offenders but there’s nothing in the text of the law to support that. This is the same reasoning that says child porn laws are only about going after the worst criminals. So why do teenagers get busted for sending half-dressed photos of themselves to their boyfriends and girlfriends?

If the middle men at movie and music studios want to bully those outside of US borders, then let them use the billions they’ve made inflating the copyright laws of the US to do it. They don’t need a law that allows them to cry wolf at any search engine or website that links to something they don’t like.

These are people who have been on the wrong side of history for decades. They fought the invention of television and radio. They fought digital goods until they had no choice. These are not the innovators protecting discovery and innovation. These are the old, rich, no-talent middle men who want to drag technology out as long as possible so they can milk the system of every drop because they have no skill except buying talent cheap and selling it at a huge mark up to consumers.

If we give it to them, we’re going to get exactly what we deserve. Their world. Bought and packaged. For them.

“The idea of copyright did not exist in ancient times, when authors frequently copied other authors at length in works of non-fiction. This practice was useful, and is the only way many authors’ works have survived even in part.” ~ Richard Stallman

“I can’t play. You’re looking at me.” ~ Jackson C. Frank

I have always been a throwback when it comes to music. I inherited albums that most of my peers in high school had never heard of. When I “came of age” in the 80s I flirted with light punk and enjoyed aerosol rock and pretended not to like any of the pop music, but what I really enjoyed and listened to over and over were my Dad’s records. Bob Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel, Jim Croce, Cat Stephens, Joan Baez, etc. Bear in mind there was no Elliott Smith or Soul Coughing yet. Music in the 80s had no poetry in its soul. So I had to turn back to find it.

I can say, with some measure of confidence that I have an extensive knowledge of folk rock from the 1960s and 70s American scene. I love coffee house players and folk music festival obscure numbers, so I know a lot of songs that musicians who played the eras often haven’t heard; I pretty much operate under the theory that if it was good, I know it.

So how the hell have I never heard of Jackson C. Frank?

While watching a movie preview for an upcoming release (Martha Marcy May Marlene), there is a clip of John Hawkes playing a haunting song called “Marcy’s Song” that I’d never heard. I immediately Googled some of the lyrics and found Hawkes’ performance embedded on a site. It took some additional Googling to get the name “Jackson C. Frank” in connection with the lyrics. And then the adventure began.

Mr. Frank had one self-titled album back in 1965 which wasn’t re-released until the late 70s. It was produced by Paul Simon (Paul frikkin’ Simon). As it turned out, I had heard two of his songs without ever knowing they were his. One, “Blues Run the Game” which I’ve always assumed was one of Simon’s and “Kimbe” which I heard but didn’t know the origins of.

His story is gut-wrenching and includes being caught in a school fire at age eleven (which he survived, but was left with burns over half his body), being diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, enduring homelessness and poverty in later years — as well as taking a stray pellet to the eye in his 40′s from kids messing around with pop guns at random.

You can hear the minglings of Simon influence in many of the cuts (or possibly we were hearing Frank influence in Simon’s songs, who knows?). The most poignant for me is called “I Want To Be Alone (Dialogue)” which cannot help but inspire reminders of “I Am a Rock” although this delicate plea is far more powerful than the anthem like declaration of Rock.

Part of me is thrilled to have discovered this guy; it’s like finding buried treasure in an ordinary day. On the other hand, it’s heart-breaking to know that this voice and this individual were lost into obscurity. There is such a toll taken on those for whom the world is too much with them and so often gifts and curses we can only imagine weigh them down to the bottom of their personal oceans.

“I take music pretty seriously. See this scar on my wrist? Know how I got that? I heard the Bee Gees were getting back together; I didn’t want to live anymore.” ~ Dennis Leary

I’m going to hell for re-posting this. But it’s shocking how well this works together.

“I like libraries. It makes me feel comfortable and secure to have walls of words, beautiful and wise, all around me. I always feel better when I can see that there is something to hold back the shadows.” ~ Roger Zelazny

One of my favorite books of all time is a little-known treat from the late, great Roger Zelazny entitled A Night In the Lonesome October. It was Roger’s last book and for whatever reason, it has touched me on a child-like level of delight ever since the first time I devoured it.

Zelazny possessed a crispness of style that I covet. His prose is tight and streamlined, but every phrase is also sculpted, crafted to employ just the right language to punch fathomless wells of context into tiny packages. He was always easy to read, and yet the concepts and characters possessed such depth that I often found myself lost in re-read after re-read, soaking up details I had missed on previous turns. You could read him as fast as a freeway, but then you’d miss the exits. So you had to spin round and retrace your path and revisit how the language had fooled you with its simplicity.

It’s a rare gift, especially among science fiction greats who tend to beleaguer readers with too much exposition.

Although Roger is most remembered for the Amber series, I find October to be a far more delicious adventure and I’ve introduced it to many friends over the years who have, without exception, taken equal delight in it.

As the book is broken into 32 chapters, each detailing a day in the life of Snuff, a faithful watchdog familiar, who reveals the mysterious events surrounding a very special October month, I’ve decided read, record, and put up each chapter day by day for those who want to listen and enjoy.

The book, alas, is out of print and has been for a few years, but you can still find copies here and there in used bookstores, and I encourage it heartily. There is also a rarer out of print audio book version of Zelazny reading the story himself, which is far superior to the job I will accomplish. However, my goal is simply to share the story and encourage others to explore further for themselves. To that end, I hope to just not mangle the reading too much.

This is my first outing in using Adobe Premiere to put together video. I suck at it — even this meager little attempt to insert a still frame married to an audio track was a trial. Moreover, compression and compromise to keep the file sizes under the necessary limits is a bit of a bear. But who knows, with luck, maybe I’ll hit on a magic combination as the project progresses through the month. I’ve decided to use video posts uploaded to YouTube for no other reason than because it’s easy and I don’t have to worry about which widgets work for which browsers, etc.

A special thanks to Lyndon Heart who will be helping me tweak my nervous little recordings and who is composing and adding brief musical bumpers to the start and end of each chapter. Yay for talented friends!

Please enjoy the story.