I want to be able to search the world's library, BUT...

Chris Jennings

CMMN 400

David Myers

October 22, 2009

 

I want to be able to search the world’s library, but I don’t think Google should rush into this project. The idea of having access to these millions of books is wonderful and would do a great deal for globalization and the rapid spread of new ideas and opinions, particularly where the language barrier is concerned (Toobin, 2007), but this is not a project which should be undertaken haphazardly, which it is if there is so much concern over unorganized citations and sloppy scanning (Toobin, 2007).

Obviously, copyright laws are a major concern in this fight. According to the Sony Bono Copyright Extension Act of 1998, copyright expires after the author has been dead 70 years or, in the case of corporate authorship, 95 years after publication (S.505, 1998). Google says that scanning books still under copyright falls under fair use for copyright laws as a block of 40 or so words around the search terms is available through the search function, but several publishing houses say that the very act of scanning these books poses a threat to the copyright because Google made a copy of the book without permission or payment to the publishing houses, even though suing publishers like Simon & Schuster, the Penguin Group and McGraw Hill are partners in Google Book Search (Toobin, 2007). Furthermore, several publishing houses fear the Google will break antitrust laws by holding a clear monopoly on the Internet book search market (Kennedy, 2009, p. 13), although Google started out as the primary force in some markets, but was quickly overrun by stronger competitors, notably in video (YouTube) and blog search (technorati.com) (Toobin, 2007).

While I do find the antitrust and copyright infringement concerns very valid, I recognize the inevitability of Google Book Search’s victory. Recent history has shown that Internet developments evolve far too quickly for the law to keep up — Google even acknowledged this with the Charles Darwin quote “It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the ones most responsive to change” (Toobin, 2007). Music, television and film all have hundreds of places on the Internet where they can be view for free without advertisement even though there are clear laws against this as people are always able to find loopholes in the law. The introduction of torrents into the music-downloading scene, for example, allows people who would otherwise be labeled pirates to slip right through the current copyright laws. I may be no media law expert, but I know a losing battle when I see one. However, it would be irresponsible for the publishing houses and the Authors Guild to give up the fight completely as this would allow Google to proceed unchecked and, in my opinion, nothing is more dangerous than giving a powerful corporation free reign without any boundaries or limitations since the practices of the Bush administration have proven this is at the very least economically, if not ethically, unsound, and thusly Google should proceed with caution and intelligence in expanding the book search program.

 

Works Cited

Kennedy, R. (2009). Law in virtual worlds. Journal of Internet Law, 12(10), 3-20.

Sonny Bono Copyright Extension Act, S.505, 105^th Cong., 2^nd Sess. (1998).

Toobin, J. (2007, February 5). Google’s moon shot. The New Yorker. Retrieved from http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2007/02/05/070205fa_fact_toobin?currentage=all

Charter, conventional schools compete in Idaho

By JESSIE L. BONNER
Associated Press Writer

GOODING, Idaho (AP) — A few minutes after the bell pulses into his classroom, Gus Spiropulos waits for the fifth graders to finish their noisy parade out the door before he reluctantly begins his calls to parents.

His approach is polite but pointed; there are only a few troublemakers. But he's careful not to stir resentment because parents in this tiny dairy community no longer have to send their children to Gooding Elementary School, or even Gooding Middle School. Starting this fall, they'll also be able to opt out of the traditional public high school here.

That choice is as Idaho lawmakers intended when they authorized charter schools a decade ago, part of a wave of states that embraced an alternative to the conventional classroom.

Since then, conventional public schools across the state have lost students to charter schools. Gooding is the poster child for the impact of charter schools on one of the poorest districts in the state.

"I'm not sure they totally understood what they were doing, the ramifications of putting a charter in a rural school district," Spiropulos said. "Now they know."

While charters have become ingrained in the educational fabric of states like Arizona, Michigan, Colorado and Florida, there are still Idaho lawmakers who consider them a threat to the traditional public school system.

Less than a year after North Valley Academy opened in Gooding, the traditional public school system has lost about 100 students — 10 percent of its total enrollment — and a portion of the tax money that supported those students.

On Feb. 10, voters had to pass a supplemental property tax levy to raise about $325,000 for the Gooding School District to ward off the elimination of music and athletic programs caused partly by the departure of the charter school kids and in part by the economic downturn. The levy gained many supporters, including Dr. Heather Williams, the district superintendent, and it passed 669 to 393, but it also worsened a rift that emerged in Gooding when the school buses started carrying two sets of kids.

The students headed to North Valley Academy wore sharp uniforms, khaki bottoms and polo or button down shirts in red, white and blue. Those bound for the regular public school were suddenly different.

"It segregated the community," said Holly Church, a 30-year-old teacher who lives in Gooding and works in the public schools in nearby Wendell. "People who had been friends for 40 years are now fighting. They're saying, 'my kid goes to the public school,' 'well my kid goes to the charter school.'"

Butch and Mary Stolzman will have grandchildren in both public school systems this fall. They voted for the levy in support of the regular public schools, but parents also seem to like the charter school.

"We haven't quite figured out which one is better," said Butch Stolzman, who owns a pellet mill in town.

More than 30 charter schools have been established in Idaho by teachers, parents and community members. For just about every one of the 11,000 students enrolled in a charter school, there is another kid on a waiting list.

They are public schools, funded with state money, but given more flexibility in how they operate. They draft charters with specific goals and their students are subject to standardized testing, just like they would be in regular schools.

They enroll students through a lottery system and attract a smaller percentage of minorities compared to traditional schools statewide. Several, like North Valley Academy, have adopted rigorous college-prep programs and students adhere to strict discipline codes.

Debra Infanger wanted students in Gooding County, where cows outnumber residents 12 to one, to have the same alternative being offered in school districts across the state. She founded North Valley Academy, which has about 162 pupils in kindergarten through eighth grade and will expand to include grades 9-12 this fall.

"I don't regret it at all," said Infanger, the retired owner of a glass repair business. "I don't like to see rural kids shorted just because we live in the country and don't like a lot of traffic."

All five of her children went to regular schools here, she tutored algebra and frosted cupcakes for bake sales.

"I don't want to hurt the traditional public schools. I just believe in choice," Infanger said. "I think having two schools in town just makes both of us work harder."

About 100 miles west of Gooding, lawmakers in the state capital have set the stage for a legislative battle over a plan to temporarily freeze approval of new charter schools for the next three years, beginning in July.

State Sen. Dick Sagness, a Democrat, wants to place a moratorium on the establishment of new charter schools until the economic turmoil subsides.

Charters received nearly $60 million last year in state money, while more than half of the 115 school districts in Idaho have gone to local taxpayers and are operating with supplemental levies, Sagness said.

"If they're in a district where the charter school resides, it's having an impact, opportunities are being reduced," Sagness said. "Tell me how that's fair, or reasonable."

At least one Republican senator vowed to oppose the bill when it was introduced to the Senate Education Committee last month. The legislation, which is likely to fail, has also drawn criticism from public schools chief Tom Luna.

"I think it would send a signal to the parents of Idaho that we are not going to respect their demands," said Luna, who supports a plan to raise the cap on the number of new charters allowed to open each year.

In neighboring Washington state, the Legislature's approval of charter schools in 2004 was swiftly overturned by voters in a referendum at the next election.

But nationwide, efforts to stymie the growth of charter schools have largely failed and there are now 4,600 of them in 40 states with 4.5 million students, said Jeanne Allen, president and founder of the Center for Education Reform, a school choice advocate based in Washington, D.C.

"Lots of people wanted to shut down the competition, but reason prevailed and traditional school leaders learned how to do better," Allen said. "Those who didn't have either continued to suffer or they have closed."

—

Copyright 2009 The Associated Press.

As development expands, graves go missing

One of several grave markers that have fallen over at the Harless-Bradshaw Cemetery on Brier Branch near Ashford, W.Va. is seen in a Saturday, March 7, 2009 photo. As small family cemeteries and unmarked graves get in the way of mining, timbering and development interests, advocates are asking state lawmakers this year to enact regulations that would require better tracking of the graves.(AP Photo/Bob Bird)

By BRIAN FARKAS
Associated Press Writer

CHARLESTON, W.Va. (AP) — Walter Young can't find his great-grandmother's grave. The coal company that had it moved doesn't know where the remains ended up.

"It always looked like a safe, good place nobody would bother," the 63-year-old retiree said of the cemetery along Pigeon Creek. "It was up on a hill."

But that hill was in West Virginia's southern coalfields, and over the years, it changed hands. The land around and under the cemetery passed from one coal company to another as mines grew up around it. Now, no one is sure where Young's great-grandmother was ultimately laid to rest.

The loss is a problem that resonates across West Virginia as small family cemeteries and unmarked graves get in the way of mining, timbering and development interests. Advocates are asking state lawmakers this year to enact regulations that would require better tracking of the graves and protect families who believed that their loved ones wouldn't be disturbed.

Young hadn't visited his great-grandmother's grave regularly since the 1970s, but wanted to check up on it when he realized the cemetery, near Delbarton in the southwestern corner of the state, was near a site being built to store coal waste.

When he called for permission to cross company property, he was dumbfounded by the response. The company that now operates the site didn't know where the grave had been relocated.

The graves get lost because sometimes, nearby mining makes it difficut for families to gain access to burial grounds.

One measure the Ohio Valley Coalition is pushing in the legislature would triple the no-disturbance buffer zone around cemeteries from 100 feet to 300 feet. Another would delete seemingly contradictory language in a law intended to protect human remains, grave artifacts and markers.

A third proposal would require coal companies to explain ahead of time how proposed surface mines would affect nearby cemeteries. And a fourth would allow West Virginia University's extension service to use Global Positioning System to map and plot small cemeteries near mountaintop removal mines.

Bill Raney, president of the West Virginia Coal Association, says coal operators follow the law and try to be sensitive when cemeteries get in the way, treating families with dignity. However, he can't say how often such disputes arise.

International Coal Group's Patriot Mining Co. is currently in court in northern West Virginia, seeking approval to relocate a cemetery where the last burial occurred more then 70 years ago. Patriot received permission last year to move a nearby cemetery.

Patriot estimates there is 7,000 tons of coal beneath the 22 graves it now wants to move. Because of buffer zone and blasting laws, Patriot technical services manager Tom Jones said 80,000 to 100,000 tons of coal would be lost if the cemetery isn't relocated.

Ohio Valley Environmental Coalition organizer Robin Blakeman doesn't know how much coal is beneath her family cemetery in Brier Branch Hollow. The Harless-Bradshaw Cemetery had been used by her family and the nearby community since the mid-1800s, and contains the grave of a Civil War cavalry corporal.

In the past five years, Blakeman has watched Ravencrest Contracting slowly encircle the wooded knoll where the cemetery is located. The former farm passed out of her family's hands more then 50 years ago.

On a recent Saturday, Blakeman planted Gladiolus bulbs near several of the stones. As she worked, the sound of heavy mining machinery and trucks drifted across the narrow valley.

"Sometimes in the midst of all this destruction, sometimes the only thing you can do is try and add a little bit of beauty," Blakeman said. "I'm also thinking these flowers will at least alert somebody to the fact that somebody cares."

—

Copyright 2009 The Associated Press.

Tucson man feels call to collect for needy

By ERNESTO PORTILLO JR.
Arizona Daily Star


TUCSON, Ariz. (AP) — When Peter Norback heard President Obama's call for community service, the Miles Neighborhood resident decided to start right outside his front door. He began soliciting and collecting food from his midtown Tucson neighbors.

"What a challenge to make hunger go away," Norback, 66, said recently during his weekly collection walk.

His hope is that the city's 180-plus neighborhoods take up the same effort.

"If every neighborhood did this, we could make hunger go away. It can be done," he said.

With a box affixed to his handheld cart, Norback spent about six hours walking most of his Midtown neighborhood which, at his count, includes about 250 houses, not counting apartments and granny flats. It was his sixth week and his most productive: 130 pounds and $23 for the Community Food Bank. The previous week he'd collected 78 pounds and $1.

He also likes that his neighbors have good taste in their donated food.

"It's always good quality. It's nothing you wouldn't eat yourself," he said.

Norback, a self-employed computer consultant, started his one-person campaign by visiting his neighbors, talking to them about his idea and enlisting their weekly contributions. Many were quick to say yes.

One of the first to say yes was Edward Altamirano, who works for the city in housing rehabilitation. He said in his job, which takes him inside people's homes, he sees the need for donated food.

"I see what their pantries look like. I see a lot of empty cupboards and refrigerators," he said, "especially among young families and the elderly."

Jack Parris of the Community Food Bank said a growing number of food-collection drives have sprung up in response to the declining economy and rising need for food.

In December the demand for food rose by 40 percent compared with the year before, said Parris. The demand stretched the food bank's resources, he added.

Last month the food bank began to limit families to one box per month. Previously a family could receive two boxes each month, Parris said.

Chantelle Bowers who lives in the Miles Neighborhood, said she understands the need for donated food.

"I've needed the food bank. Now we need to give back," she said after she gave Norback several cans.

Miles residents leave their donations outside their doors or close to the sidewalk. At each house Norback leaves a thank-you message or sorry-I-missed-you note if there is no food or no one is home. He carries a photo identification badge he created.

"This is new. He put some dollars in there," Norback said excitedly when he found several bills instead of cans.

With some neighbors he chatted for a moment. At one home he knocked but no one answered. But he knew why.

"That's another student," he said. "I think they sleep in on Sundays."

Norback doesn't have help yet but expects to get some soon to help him cover the triangular neighborhood.

As temperature rises, Norback said, he'll have to find a way to beat the heat while he and his neighbors beat hunger.

"I'm going to find a huge sombrero with a fan."

___

Information from: Arizona Daily Star, http://www.azstarnet.com

Copyright 2009 The Associated Press.

Man finishes drug rehab, gets married same day

By ELI SEGALL
Associated Press Writer

NEWARK, N.J. (AP) — It was a little past 11 a.m., and Billy Daniels was getting worried. A friend was supposed to drive him to Essex County Superior Court, but the man hadn't shown.

This was a big day for Daniels — the biggest in years — and he couldn't be late to court. Until a few years ago, he snorted heroin everyday. But today would be different — today was the start of a new life.

In only a few hours, Daniels would graduate from a state-run drug rehabilitation program. A few minutes after that, he would be married.

For the past five years, Daniels, 47, was enrolled in the county's drug court program. To beat his heroin addiction, his urine was tested twice a week, he had a 7 p.m. curfew, and he attended Narcotics Anonymous.

He also attended a job training program in Jersey City, where he met Sandy Roman, herself a recovering drug addict in the program.

Daniels' story begins in Newark, where he and his four siblings were raised. As a teen he moved to Tulsa, Okla., and at 23 married an 18-year-old. Two days after the wedding, he returned to Newark, bringing his wife and their infant daughter with him.

From the mid-1980s to 2003, Daniels said he snorted heroin three or four times a day, buying little $10 baggies of the drug. He said he snorted it in the hallways of housing projects, and sometimes, on the streets of Newark in broad daylight.

"When you wake up in the morning, you feel kind of sick, can't do nothing," he said. "And then, when you get that bag, that energy takes over you."

His new wife has a similar history. She was arrested for possession of crack cocaine in Camden about six years ago, and child services removed four of her children from her apartment.

Neither of them work. The left side of Daniels' face is paralyzed from Bell's Palsy, a nerve condition, and Roman says she has no cartilage in her knees. They both collect Social Security benefits, totaling roughly $1,000 a month.

After yet another run-in with the law in 2003, Daniels was sentenced to drug court, a strict, state-run rehabilitation program.

Daniels entered the program in February 2004 and, like most participants, had to spend five years there.

Graduation day came in February. Judge Ramona Santiago awarded him a certificate, and a few minutes later married Daniels and Roman.

Daniels' friend never came to drive them to court, so the couple and his mom walked a block to catch the bus.

They entered the courthouse, rode the elevators to the seventh floor, and by 2 p.m., Daniels had graduated from drug court. Roman watched him graduate, then left the courtroom.

She re-emerged within minutes, arms linked with Daniels' probation officer, Dujuan Jones. As they walked down the aisle, a court clerk sang "At Last," by Etta James.

—

Copyright 2009 The Associated Press

Iowan brings brass instruments back to life

By DAVE DEWITTE
The Gazette

CEDAR RAPIDS, Iowa (AP) — When Aaron Barnard opens a box at Barnard Instrument Repair Inc., he seldom knows exactly what he'll find.

Barnard, 33, handles some jobs that other instrument technicians won't touch at his tiny repair studio in the New Bohemia Arts and Entertainment District in Cedar Rapids.

They often include bodywork, gently hammering out dents in vintage saxophones.

Sometimes, the damaged instrument is a basket case.

"I've restored four saxophones that have been run over," Barnard said.

A full mechanical restoration of a vintage professional-quality saxophone can take a week, and cost $800 to $1,000. Some repair tabs run higher, but Barnard finds many professional saxophone players feel passionately about their instruments.

Vintage professional-quality saxophones made in the United States and France from the 1930s through the 1950s command high prices because of their hand craftsmanship and superior tone. A Selmer Paris sax made in France during the 1950s could fetch upward of $15,000, Barnard said.

"Even the untrained ear can tell the difference," Barnard said.

On a recent Saturday night, so late that Barnard usually has his cell phone turned off, he received a call. It was Ray Blue, an acclaimed saxophonist who had been performing in eastern Iowa. Blue's robe had caught on his tenor sax while it was resting in an instrument stand, knocking it into his soprano sax. Both were damaged, and Blue had to know when they could be fixed.

Barnard wasn't able to help Blue in time for a church performance scheduled for the following Sunday morning — Blue had a third sax that served the purpose — but he was happy to perform emergency surgery on the other two so Blue could complete his bookings.

Barnard's studio has drawers and shelves full of tools, including tools more typically used by gunsmiths, machinists, jewelers and auto body shops. He works alone in his shop, usually listening to recorded jazz or blues, for hours at a time.

Barnard planned to pursue a music degree in college when he was growing up, but "I've always had fun tearing things apart, seeing how they work, and putting them back together." He was steered to the Red Wing (Minnesota) Technical College.

After completing the one-year program, Barnard performed an internship with Randy James at Tenor Madness, an instrument repair shop in Cedar Falls.

Barnard started his own business in 2002 in the basement of his Cedar Rapids home. He moved in 2007 into the Kouba Building on Third Street SE, sharing a studio with Sue Millar of Millar Woodwind Repair.

The building known for its rooftop solar array was severely damaged by last June's flood. After replacing his equipment, Barnard worked from his home for a while, and from a shop in Waterloo.

He moved last November into the nearby Cherry Building, 329 10th Ave. SE, which is home to many other creative businesses, craftsmen and artists.
___

Information from: The Gazette, http://www.gazetteonline.com/

Copyright 2009 The Associated Press.

Homeschooling families persist in hard times

Andrea Farrier sits at her kitchen table with her children Rachel, 8, left, Rebecca, 4, center, and Sarah, 2, right, as they do schoolwork in their home, Friday, Feb. 20, 2009, in Kalona, Iowa. (AP Photo/Charlie Neibergall)

By DAVID CRARY

AP National Writer

When hard times reached the Schneider household in La Pine, Oregon, the longtime stay-at-home mom took action — getting a job at Subway to offset a drop in her husband's earnings.

What she didn't do was also notable: She didn't stop homeschooling her three teenage children.
Colleen Schneider works evenings so she's home for her favored morning teaching hours. The family scrimps — more frozen pizza, less eating out. But an inflexible 9-to-5 job that would force her to quit homeschooling was not an option.

"I would fight tooth and nail to homeschool," said Schneider, 47, a devout Roman Catholic who wants to convey her values to her children. "I'm making it work because it's my absolute priority."

Other families across the country are making similar decisions — college-age children chipping in with their earnings, laid-off fathers sharing teaching duties, mothers taking part-time jobs — with the goal of continuing to homeschool in the face of economic setbacks.

Before the recession, the ranks of homeschool students had been growing by an estimated 8 percent annually; the latest federal figures, from 2007, calculate the total at about 1.5 million.

'We're going to see continued growth," said Brian Ray, president of the National Home Education Research Institute in Salem, Oregon. "The reasons parents home-educate are not passing, faddish things."

Christopher Klicka of Warrenton, Va., senior counsel for the Home School Legal Defense Association and co-teacher along with his wife of seven homeschooled children, says hard times enhance homeschooling's appeal as private school tuition becomes unaffordable and some public schools contemplate cutbacks.

"People are looking to homeschooling as an alternative more now in light of economic circumstances," he said, citing its low cost and potential for strengthening family bonds.

At Allendale Academy in Clearwater, Fla., which provides resources for homeschoolers, enrollment has risen 50 percent over the past two years to about 900 students as families desert private schools, says academy director Patricia Carter.

"Often one parent has been laid off," she said. "That makes private school tuition impossible, and they don't want to send their kids back to public school."

Her academy charges $65 per year to support students through 8th grade, $95 for high school students, compared to private school tuitions often running many thousands of dollars per year.
For frugal families, homeschooling can be a good fit. Used academic material is available at low cost; free research resources are on tap on the Internet and at libraries.

Michael Marcucci, of Middlebury, Conn., is president of the Connecticut Homeschool Network, which has about 1,500 member families — including 34 who signed up in January alone.

"During difficult times, people tend to go back to basics," Marcucci said. "I know a family with five children — the father's been out of work 18 months and they're still homeschooling."

His own family, with three homeschooled children, got a taste of that challenge last year when Marcucci, a banker, was out of work for six months. His wife continued homeschooling, rather than seek a job, and he supplemented his job-hunting with teaching stints of his own.

"It was a chance to reconnect with family, to get to know your children in a different way," he said. "I was excited about the opportunity to teach Greek history, to help out with algebra."

Andrea Farrier, a mother of three girls from Kalona, Iowa, does double-duty — homeschooling her daughters and working part-time for her school district as a supervisory teacher for 23 other homeschool families. Several are struggling financially — in some cases because of a father's layoff — but abandoning homeschooling so the mother can find a job is not their response, Farrier said.

"These families are already sacrificing — when times get tough, there's no belt left to tighten," she said. "These are families who homeschool because public education wouldn't serve the needs of their children — it's the last thing they'll give up."

Among Farrier's colleagues — both as a homeschooling mom and as a part-time teacher — is Crystal Gingerich, 44, of Kinross, Iowa.

Her husband, Joe, used to be a self-employed electrician, but business dwindled and he's now a truck driver whose routes across the Midwest keep him away from home except on weekends. That leaves her single-handedly running the household on weekdays, and teaching her four children.

In Michigan, among the states hardest hit by recession, April Morris, 44, of Auburn Hills remains committed to homeschooling even though she's now working full-time at Target — a job she started after her husband was laid off from his computer job.

The three oldest Morris children have moved on to college, but 13-year-old Ben continues to homeschool, getting help from his father and older siblings as well as his mother, who works evenings and has Thursdays off to maximize her teaching availability.

In Southfield, Mich., mother of eight Abbey Waterman says she's able to continue homeschooling her four youngest children thanks in large part to support from the four oldest, who've been willing to chip in with earnings from caddying, guitar playing and tutoring.

So far, her husband, Kevin, has been steadily employed with a financial printing company, but the family takes nothing for granted.

"His company laid off two entire departments — so we're not sure he'll be laid off or not," Waterman said. "If he was, my college-age kids offered to get jobs so we could continue what we're doing."

Shelly Mabe, a coordinator for a group of 250 Christian homeschooling families in Michigan's Macomb County, said she hasn't heard of any of them giving up homeschooling — but some have moved to other states where laid-off fathers had better job prospects.

In La Pine, Oregon, Schneider is still trying to adjust to the challenges that arose when a booming local real estate market collapsed and her husband's earnings in drywall work plummeted.

Schneider hopes to leave Subway soon to work as a caregiver for the elderly, but she's intent on continuing to homeschool.

"I've seen too much good come out of it to change now," she said.

Copyright 2009 The Associated Press.