The morning was overcast, but as i left home it seemed the clouds were breaking over the south bay to let in more lovely light. Hurrah, i don't mind the summer pattern of obscured skies that clear by mid morning, for Christine's sake -- although it does make meteor shower watching something i don't do as often as i might.
When i got on 101 and pointed my car up the peninsula, though, it did not look like the summer weather pattern. It looked like the winter pattern, where storms sweep down from north bay to south. "Storm," in this case, with chunky fog that i can't quite bring myself to call rain. I used the windshield wipers, though.
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I've started reading Granta 97: Best of Young American Novelists 2. It's not bad -- some of the stories have that sense of fairy tale or magical realism that i appreciated in South American fiction in the 90s, when i was subscribed to Granta. In the 90s, i found a good deal of the British and American fiction tedious. I wonder, now, whether part of my rejection of Anglo fiction was the preoccupation with married adulthood and sex, procreation, and in/fidelity. Two of the stories i read last night were about those issues: i find i read the stories with more compassion now. They still don't do much for me, but i'm not as impatient. The story between those two was a wonderful pice about death that i should read again, more slowly.
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My day's skimming brings some fascinating IP legal opinion my way: Games are not copyrightable.
Presumably, then, you have to patent the game?
When i got on 101 and pointed my car up the peninsula, though, it did not look like the summer weather pattern. It looked like the winter pattern, where storms sweep down from north bay to south. "Storm," in this case, with chunky fog that i can't quite bring myself to call rain. I used the windshield wipers, though.
--==++==--
I've started reading Granta 97: Best of Young American Novelists 2. It's not bad -- some of the stories have that sense of fairy tale or magical realism that i appreciated in South American fiction in the 90s, when i was subscribed to Granta. In the 90s, i found a good deal of the British and American fiction tedious. I wonder, now, whether part of my rejection of Anglo fiction was the preoccupation with married adulthood and sex, procreation, and in/fidelity. Two of the stories i read last night were about those issues: i find i read the stories with more compassion now. They still don't do much for me, but i'm not as impatient. The story between those two was a wonderful pice about death that i should read again, more slowly.
--==++==--
My day's skimming brings some fascinating IP legal opinion my way: Games are not copyrightable.
The reason why games and other systems are uncopyrightable then becomes clear: the purpose of a system is to serve as a forum for user activity; it is users, not authors, who provide the primary informational value to the outputs of a system. Games and other systems are excluded in order to fence in copyright protection before it reaches user creation.
Presumably, then, you have to patent the game?
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