In Remix, Lawrence Lessig distinguishes between commercial, sharing, and hybrid economies. The distinction is essential for the thesis of his book: unreasonably criminalizing copyright infringement leads to societal degradation by branding an entire generation of young people “thieves” (or, in Jack Valenti’s unsubtle designation, “terrorists”). Following is a useful example of the way these economies operate in my own life.

I am a house rabbit enthusiast or nerd or geek or fanatic or whatever you want to call it. I dearly love my two adopted bunnies and spend a good deal of time and money ensuring their contentment (and, vicariously, my own). In this effort, I have benefited mightily from the house rabbit community—a noncommercial economy centered around rabbit rescue charities and online communities. Rabbit rescue charities take care of abandoned animals and ensure they are adopted to suitable homes; they also conduct continuing educational and social events. Online communities offer information (www.rabbit.org, www.bunnybunch.org) or entertainment (www.dailybunny.com). No one is making money from these rabbit rescue charities or online communities, as they’re staffed by volunteers or enthusiasts. The benefits they offer are therefore noncommercial.

There are commercial elements to my existence as a rabbit enthusiast. I spend about $40-60 per month on Timothy hay and pellets from Oxbow Animal Health, a small company in Nebraska that specializes in feed and supplies for small animals. I do not expect Oxbow to send me informational brochures on rabbit health (as I receive from rabbit rescue organizations) or cute pictures of bunnies (as I get from the aforementioned Daily Bunny). Moreover, the reason behind my loyalty to this particular brand is its products’ high quality and lack of unhealthy and possibly dangerous filler ingredients. I frequent Oxbow not because of any noncommercial, intangible benefits but because they produce the best product on the market. My purchases operate, therefore, in the context of a purely commercial economy.

Where I buy my Oxbow products, however, is indicative of a hybrid economy. I will, on occasion, buy from a pet store; but under normal circumstances I buy all my rabbit feed and products from BunnyLuv, a rabbit rescue charity shop (www.bunnyluv.com). The transaction is clearly commercial: I am paying market prices in exchange for commercialized goods. BunnyLuv gets to keep all of the money I give them minus sales tax, but they put it toward keeping their rabbit rescue operation going. No one at the organization is paid a salary. The staff of the rescue and shop is entirely volunteer. The commercial and noncommercial aspects of BunnyLuv make it a hybrid economy. Also, my intentions in frequenting BunnyLuv are demonstrative of its hybrid nature. First, I go there because they always have the products I want for the aforementioned commercial reasons. Second, I go there to support a cause I believe in—animal adoption instead of sales. And third, I go there because I want to interact with other rabbit enthusiasts. I can’t banter and brag about my bunnies to some high school Petsmart cashier, but I can with the volunteers at BunnyLuv. The conversation is not included in the price, and it would be abhorrent if they charged me before allowing me to speak. Not only is BunnyLuv a hybrid, my reasoning for going there is hybrid.

…seen the Alamo Drafthouse decked out like Hogwarts for 5 midnight showings of Harry Potter Part the Fifth…

…then drank an alcoholic butterbeer and eating treacle fudge…

…then watched a superb “wizard rock” performance by the Remus Lupins…

…then watched the best Harry Potter movie of the bunch.

The past month has been an awkward shift from teaching assistant to full-time technical writer (can’t say where–not that it’s top secret or anything like that, but just because).  Except for a couple of free days that I devoted to migrating “Refuge” to WordPress, I haven’t felt up to blogging.  So here it is: a summary of my movements.

I got the call with a job offer on a Dallas highway.  The wife and I had just visited my parents, who were in Dallas for a conference (they live in the Great North).  We had gone the wrong way and had turned around; just then, we decided to go back to the mall that my mom was exploring, tell her the good news, and stay another night.  So we did.  It was a nice vacation.

I started working, and I’m extremely happy with my position.  I really couldn’t ask for a better job at this point in my career.

The second half of my first week was devoted to my brother-in-law’s wedding in Seattle.  They were matrimonied with grace and style, and I’m extremely happy for them.  Incidentally, my brother-in-law just started working for a Very Large Advertising Corporation that is collaborating with a Very Large Search Corporation.

While in Seattle, the wife and I attended a screening of my favorite film from SXSW in March: The King of Kong, a documentary about the the mind-boggling-but-true battle (of sorts) between Donkey Kong Champion Billy Mitchell and challenger Steve Wiebe.  Wiebe is from Redmond, that famous suburb of Seattle, so he attended the screening, making it doubly fortuitous and special for the wife and I.

I spent today cleaning up after and caring for our new bunny, aptly named Bunny.  Here’s a short clip that my wife put together: Try not to be overwhelmed by the cuteness.

A couple of other highlights of the day are worth mentioning.  I discovered Authors@Google (via Cory Doctorow), which keeps with my trend of discovering the coolest things after they have ceased to be novel.*  Watched free culture advocates Cory Doctorow and Jonathan Lethem, and was happy to find a reading by Neil Gaiman.  I’m saving free culture advocate par excellence Lawrence Lessig for later.

Finally, I watched Criterion’s “comprehensive” cut of Orson Welles’s Mr. Arkadin (alternately called Confidential Report).  The Criterion set includes the comprehensive cut, the original European theatrical release (Confidential Report), and the version released in 1962 by Corinth Pictures (discovered by Peter Bogdanovich two years earlier).  It’s brilliant, of course, and I’m not just saying that because I’m a Welles devotee.  As a Welles devotee, though, I made a marvelous discovery tonight: Welles’s last film, The Other Side of the Wind may actually be released next year.  About.  Damn.  Time.

*That trend was finally reversed when I saw The King of Kong, which will be released by Picturehouse in August.  It’ll be awesome.  Trust me.

A reading from the Little Professor’s All My Alienated Academics: A Soap Opera in Five Installments. Let us attend.

ADAM: So you’re saying that Bartleby must be the key to Trendee’s disappearance?

EVANGELINE: I would prefer not to.

We’ve finally moved into Austin, and I’ve been enjoying it so far.  We’re at Austin’s Pizza, just across the street from the University of Texas (the famous tower is within view).  I’m enjoying the weirdness of the city and the gaps between cars–a phenomenon not found in Houston.  I’ll blog more later, as I’m against a hard work deadline.

Matrimonied!

I was a groomsman for a friend from college…well, sort of.  The bride and groom had mixed parties, so I was on the bride’s side.  It was a good time, and an interesting cultural experience, as the groom’s family is from Uganda.  I offer them congratulations. 

Patriotism is no excuse for stupidity

While driving home, we ran into traffic jams because various dumb people parked their cars on the highways (and if you’ve ever lived in Houston, you know how important the highways are to the city)  to watch the fireworks.  Ugh.

Superman!

After the wedding, we went to a theater local to  our home to see Superman Returns.   It was campy, in a good way, but I was disappointed nonetheless.  Oh well.  I’ll wait for the  sequel.

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Recently, I was having a conversation with my wife and my brother-in-law about husbands fetching feminine products for their wives.  I think husbands’ trepidation about doing so is rather unjustified, considering that no one in the store will think the feminine products are for said husbands.  If anything, onlookers will be impressed.  But, as with everything, there are rules.

• Do not buy something else that you don’t need.  Buying something small and inocuous like gum, a magazine, or a candy bar just calls attention to the feminine product and to you, the purchaser.  It sends the signal, "I don’t want to be here, and I’m trying to cover it up."
• Do not buy something manly (beef jerky, for example) with the feminine product.  It sends the signal, "I am uncomfortable with my masculinity.  Buying this feminine product confirms my belief that everyone thinks I am too feminine.
• If you need to go grocery shopping, then you may buy the feminine product with other food items.  You must do so in a grocery store, though.  Remember: no one buys food in large amounts at drug stores.  Stocking up on grocery items at a drug store when buying a feminine product sends the signal, "I am not only insecure with my masculinity, but I am also fiscally irresponsible because I am willing to pay inflated prices for groceries to cover up said insecurity."
• Ask which brand/style of feminine product to purchase.  You don’t know, though you may think you do.  Trust me.
• Do not grab the first package you see.  No one will broadcast your presence in the feminine products aisle.  Take your time.  If you come back with the wrong product, you will surely be sent back.

• No, you cannot complain that your entire apartment is furnished with particle-board constructed Ikea furniture.  You were the idiot who got the English degree,  while your high school friends all went to business school and are driving BMWs.  Get over it.
• You may know the inner workings of Joyce’s fragmented narratives, but you don’t know jack about making furniture.  Read the instructions.
• While it may be tempting to pay the extra for someone else to assemble your furniture, you must realize that you don’t have extra cash because, well…alright, we’ve covered that.
• You do not need an electric drill.  Stop yourself from going to Target.  Stop.  You have a screwdriver, and that is enough.  You may be a wuss, but you can do this.  I promise.  Ikea furniture was built with wusses in mind.
• Remember that you bought Ikea furniture, and Ikea furniture features components obtained on the cheap.  The screws are, most likely, useless.  If simply using the screwdriver on the screw scrapes the plating off the top of the screw until it cannot be turned, then you must take it out and go to Home Depot.
• Do not, under any circumstances, try to hammer in a screw.  The Swedes at Ikea said to use a screw, not a hammer, and they said so for a reason.  Hammering a screw might give you the satisfaction of hitting the cause of your frustration, but it will do little else.
• Home Depot was not assembled with people like you in mind, although the staff understands if you don’t know a wood screw from…well…another type of screw.  Take the screw(s) you need with you.  Show the screw(s) to the nearest Home Depot employee, and ask all the stupid questions you must to ensure that you are buying the right tools.  If the Home Depot employee is rude and looks at you as if you are the dumbest person he or she has ever encountered, then take down their name and write it, along with a physical description, on the user survey website.  The offending employee will be punished, I promise.
• Grunting is not necessary.  Neither is yelling at the furniture or swearing at it under your breath.
• Your spouse will be impressed if you make the furniture look like the models on display at the store.  Other people may not be impressed, but your spouse will, because your spouse knows how much you hate manual labor.

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I was once an overzealous teaching assistant in a freshman great books course.  My students’ papers were covered with graphite (I would only use pencil to grade papers).  My most common complaint was "Quote the text!"  I couldn’t imagine why there was so much paraphrasing and so little quoting.  The professor tactfully reminded me that, given that said papers had a three-page maximum, it really wasn’t a big deal if the students paraphrased.

Peter’s "A Freshman Studies Hamlet" makes me think that maybe I was on to something.  Quoth Peter,

Hamlet and his uncle both get other people killed to solve their problems, too. Hamlet’s friends Rosencrantz and Guildenstern wouldn’t have died if Hamlet hadn’t sent them to England on a ship with a note to the King of England, saying, “Kill these guys.” Hamlet wouldn’t have sent them on the ship if Hamlet’s uncle hadn’t sent Hamlet, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern on a ship to England with a note to the King of England, saying, “Kill Hamlet.” So they both did the same thing, only to different people, which isn’t really different, after all, someone died.

"Kill these guys."

I’ll let that sink in.

If this sort of writing awaits me later in life, I’m applying to Barnes and Noble tomorrow.