MY CROOKED HEART SWINGS, THEN RUNS.
PERFECT TIMING AT A RUSTIC BENCH.
The thing about imitating and plagiarism and copying and originality…
Sometimes people come up with an idea and a thought and a phrase and a song.
Well, let’s face it, nothing is original.
Even if you think you came up with that catchy phrase or that excellent design, it most likely has been said and done before. Maybe it hasn’t been posted or tweeted or hashtagged, but, sometime, before all this, it was mentioned in a loud conversation (or an intimate one) or written in a letter, or placed on a can or a bottle as a label, or somewhere else in another time or era.
To come up with something ‘original,’ we take something that (most likely) has been done already, and make it a little better or a little different. And even then, well, it’s quite possible that was done pretty darn good already. And it’s a possibility that someone else will do it better. And we’ll miss the window of opportunity, (or something, something). Or we’ll fight for our copyright, or we’ll tell the world (and our lawyers) that it was our “line” and it should be illegal for anyone else to use it even in a personal blog or local newspaper or a t-shirt or a foto on Instagram.
And, well, most things have a traceable past. That ‘original’ idea has a name attached to it, and we credit that name.
And some words or ideas, well, some are just untraceable. And are taken and stolen and claimed as their own. Maybe?
But, at some point and someday, they will be found a little further down the road. And some are more within reach. (not sure where I was going with this…) I guess what I’m trying to say is…
…don’t be a copy cat. Come up with your own shit. But if you are a copy cat, then give some love and some credit and some fucking cash. We will hunt you down, eventually. And we’ll make you pay. I promise.
That’s it.
Nothing.
Really.
