The Chain of Custody for Reality: Why Every Public Image, Voice, and Document Must Prove Its Origin

The next decisive recording will arrive before our institutions are ready for it. It may show a governor accepting a bribe, a police officer issuing an unlawful command, a physician altering a chart, a candidate confessing contempt for the voters, or a military official announcing an attack that has not occurred. The image will be clear. The voice will be familiar. The setting will be plausible. Millions of people will see it before any newsroom, court, agency, or laboratory can establish where it came from. The accused will call it artificial. Supporters will not require proof. Opponents will not trust any proof offered in reply. Platforms will attach hurried labels. Forensic vendors will issue competing percentages. Partisans will treat technical uncertainty as political permission. By nightfall, the artifact will no longer be evidence of an event. It will be an instrument for measuring allegiance.

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The God Arrives Early: Rod Serling and the Endings That Paid Their Bills

The series died the year before I was born, and it hardly mattered, because the reruns never stopped. On summer nights in Nebraska in the early seventies, on the only signal that reached my grandfather’s corner of the state, a man in a narrow black suit would step into the frame and speak to me as if the two of us had an appointment. He promised a fifth dimension, called it “the middle ground between light and shadow,” and stood aside to let the story convict somebody. As a boy I thought I was watching monsters. The show was running trials.

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Swimming the Author

England tested witches with water. The suspect was bound, right thumb to left toe, looped to a rope, and lowered into the village pond. Pure water was believed to refuse the devil’s servant, so a body that floated was guilty and a body that sank was innocent, and the innocent were hauled up half-drowned to receive the town’s apology. The procedure was called swimming a witch, and its genius was architectural: it could only convict. Whatever the water did, the crowd on the bank went home with the verdict it had carried down to the shore. Four centuries on, the pond fits in a browser tab. Paste the chapter. Click the button. Let the water decide.

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Four Hundred Words for Six Hundred Dollars

The announcement arrived through LJExpress on a Friday in late July, dressed in the language of service. Media Source, the company that owns Library Journal, School Library Journal, The Horn Book, and the Junior Library Guild, had opened a storefront called Open Shelf Reviews, aimed at independent authors and small presses, and the copy asked me to hold two ideas at once: the reviews would be paid for by the authors under review, and a wall would keep those purchased reviews away from the magazines whose names give the wall its worth. The company described the operation as “a clearly identified paid service,” with its own editor, reviewer pool, and website, all kept apart from the editorial processes that made Library Journal matter to librarians for a century and a half.

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Boles Blogs is Six Years Old!

This week, Boles Blogs is six years old — we’ve been around under many different names and edifications for over 15 years or so — but Boles Blogs is now how we currently roll in blog publishing!  That’s a pretty amazing conflation of time and effort and the pressing of days into years!  The slow roll from the “Boles Blogs Network” of 14 blogs into this megasite of just “Boles Blogs” today was a long and hard road to haul, but we made it, and the pathway ahead is bright and well-lighted.

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Songwriters Who Did Not Write their Songs

It’s no secret in the music business that the bigger star you are, the more song royalties you get by claiming “authorship” of a hit song written by a committee of lyricists and composers. You can force yourself into an author share of the profits because, by recording a song, you can make it popular enough that everyone will get paid.  Giving you a little something for something you did not write — instead of guaranteeing an even split of nothing for the actual authors — is one surefire way to win in any business dyad.

Chuck Berry has been accused of not writing his own hit songs that he claims ownership of — because, some argue, the songs are written in chords that are more common on a piano than a guitar.  If you don’t write a lot of music to begin with, having to transpose musical keys from one instrument to another in your head during composition of a song is nigh impossible.  You’d write the song in the familiar, and easier to play, key signatures of the instrument you use to perform.

Johnnie Johnson, one of Chuck Berry’s longtime sidemen and the man who inspired Berry’s classic “Johnnie B. Goode,” filed suit against Berry in a St. Louis Federal District Court on Nov. 29.

The multi-count suit alleges that Johnson and Berry were equal collaborators on early rock classics like “Roll Over Beethoven,” “No Particular Place to Go” and “Sweet Little Sixteen,” to name a few. Johnson claims that Berry registered the copyrights to the songs in his name alone, and therefore was the sole recipient of royalties from those songs. Johnson’s suit also seeks public recognition for his songwriting role on the fifty songs he claims to have written with Berry.


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Julie Taymor as The Goat

In the past, I have written here in The United Stage of America about “On Not Becoming the Goat” —

The Goat is usually the least experienced person on the show in an important position and, unfortunately, that usually means the author gets the Goated label, and once you have that finger pointed at you as the root cause of all trouble, there is really no escape until the roller coaster everyone is riding slams into the concrete wall and kills everybody.

— and who would have ever thought that such a deep and magnificent talent such as Julie “I am the Lion King!” Taymor would ever, or could ever, become the goat of any production?

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