Stealing is Wrong

Part I—Stealing from the ‘Sphere

Last night, while on the horn with my mother, she expressed concern about my safety. At the time (which was about 10 p.m.), I was actually walking down a deserted street alone, I had a purse dangling from my arm, and I had neither mace nor car keys/stabbing weapons on my person. So her concern was not without merit.

However—and this information is for the benefit of those who are perhaps unfamiliar with what is entailed when on the phone with someone—she was not actually privy to either my exact physical location nor to my current state of being. My uncharacteristic flirtation with that entity we all know as danger was therefore not what was bothering her.

Rather, she was worried about my safety with regards to the expanse of intangible terrain dubbed the “blogosphere.” As a new fan to blogs, courtesy of yours truly, my mother had some valid questions regarding the overall security of the whole enterprise. Her most recent worry was whether or not my “information” was safe.

From a personal standpoint, I could appreciate her concern: I am a quasi-control freak prone to suspicion and paranoia (my current position walking alone and unarmed down a dark street offers some insight as to how those little personality quirks are perpetuated). Moreover, I found her worry to be deeply touching, if not a bit misinformed. My mother, it seems, is under the impression that hordes of unknown people actually read my blog, and are therefore privy to my “information.”

She really thinks I have a genuine readership. How sweet is that?

I reassured her that, while I appreciated her concern, it was really a non-issue. My readership primarily consists of my friends and family—most of whom I verbally and virtually strong-arm into reading my blog by repeatedly providing them with the link in any and every manner available. I then pepper them with questions to gauge their devotion. Aside from stroking my own ego, it is also a nice way to assess their levels of reading comprehension. With my rigorous quizzing, I bet my readers could score 200 points higher on the verbal section of standardized tests. Kaplan ought to consider hiring me, really.

By way of assuaging my mother’s fear, I offer a major point of consideration. If a member of my readership really wanted to steal any of my personal information, or anything I own for that matter, they could do so fairly easily. Like the next time they have dinner at my house for example. After a couple of glasses of wine, I would be ripe for a good hoodwinking. All things considered, that just seems an easier and more straight-forward strategy than going through all of the virtual red tape that must be involved when heisting things from the blogosphere. Just pour me a glass of chardonnay, sneak into my office, open my filing cabinet, and doctor up a few documents. Voila. You, too, can become Margaret White.

But my mother’s concern was less about my social security number or identification being stolen, and was actually rooted in a fear that people would start stealing my material. That they would start profiting from my life stories.

As in they might cut and paste my little tales and gems of wisdom and sell them at some sort of underground trading post, perhaps making heaps of money while innocent me continued to blog away, unawares that my life itself was being looted from right under my nose.

Like me, my mother is not altogether sure how “out there” a person becomes when they are “out there” in the blogosphere. Unlike me, she is convinced that people everywhere are hanging on my every post, waiting to get their grubby little paws on my ideas and take off into the blog-o-abyss.

Not to belabor the point, but it really is sweet. If you are not a little bit touched by my mother’s pride, then you must be a cactus.

Part II – Stealing from the ‘Sphere

With regards to the intricacies of this “blog material thieving business,” I have decided it is above my head. More importantly, I have given the matter some thought and have concluded that trying to be secure would be a waste of time as it might prove detrimental, redundant, and perhaps simply a moot point.

First off, if someone was stealing my material, then I would not be angry so much as I would be flattered. It would mean that I had material worth stealing. It would mean that beings other than my mom, dogs, and occasionally my husband, find me witty and interesting. Maybe even brilliant.

Sorry. I got a little carried away there. It seems the air out here in blogosphere is a little oxygen-deprived.

Secondly, I can take solace in knowing that these hooligans could not go on stealing from me forever. Karma would prove an obstacle sooner or later. I am a big believer in karma. If you are reading my entries, then this is something about which you are already aware. If it comes as a surprise to you, then you ought to brush up on my old posts because you will likely be quizzed when we next speak. The main point is that people will get their come-uppance one way or another. Stealing is wrong, people.

For instance, my band of mythical thieving robbers would find themselves in a bit of a pickle if I suddenly stopped blogging or went missing and the well, so to speak, ran dry. Then what?

Thirdly, I have to concede the small logistical issue that I have no idea how to stop people from doing whatever it is they want to do. Especially when whatever it is they want to do involves the inner workings of technology. I was once convinced, after reading an article in Boston magazine about phone hackers, that I was being phone-hacked. I was not. If you have ever spoken to me on the phone, this fact ought to come as little surprise. But the imagined dilemma begs the question: if I were being phone hacked, what would I do to either verify the transgression or to catch the hacker?

I will tell you what: exactly nothing. There are some jobs for which I am simply not qualified. And ignorance can be bliss after all. As with the phone-hacking, if you want to steal my material, then you will likely just do it, no matter what kind of measures I take to protect myself because I frankly would not understand how or why you would be doing it.

Before you decide my technological ineptitude equals your green light to take my goods, I want to make you aware of your own stupidity. Aside from issues of morality and cosmic punishment, consider your own sense of pride. Do you really want to be caught stealing from me? I mean who am I? Compared to people I know, I am quite boring, I could easily give you five to seven names of people whose material is much more worth pilfering.

My brother, for example. Boy, that guy has some STORIES.

Finally, in this day and age where everyone likes to sue everyone else, do not think that suing the pants off a snarky material stealer is beneath me. Actually, sometimes I am big on talk, small on action. This is one of those times. I would likely never sue anyone. People who sue other people are generally sort of bold and rebellious. I am unsure if you know anything about me and my history with being bold and rebellious.

But historically, I have been neither bold nor rebellious.

Now, if you want to buy my stories, J Peterman style, then you are welcome to do so. We can set up a meeting at a mutually convenient time. In fact, I bet I could get my brother to throw in some of his stories and we might be able to work out some sort of limited time offer on a twofer.

But seriously, do not steal, lie, or cheat—off of me or anyone else for that matter. It just is not nice and I promise it will bite you in the butt in the end. Like a killer cat on a quiet street. You know what I am saying, you true blue readers.