Additions, with occasional commentary, to my on-line collection of propaganda from Nazi Germany and the German Democratic Republic
Thursday, September 19, 2024
On Solving the Jewish Question (May 1941)
Wednesday, August 14, 2024
A Nazi View of America in 1943
The text says: “The person is also ‘standardized’: Europeans also value technological progress as long as does not become their idol That is what America does. One eats from tin cans, one wears standardized shirts, standardized hats, standardized suits. One also thinks in standardized ways. American culture is no longer civilized.
This is how the standard American looks to Europeans, who value and preserve the variety of their cultures.”
Tuesday, July 23, 2024
Goebbels Feels Sorry for Himself
Monday, July 15, 2024
Adventures with Copytrack
Having received such a message myself, and having spent time investigating the matter, my experiences may be useful to others.
Who is this for?
I am discussing the situation in the United States only, for ordinary bloggers who earn little or no money from their blog and who are alarmed by an email demanding lots of money. If you have a company, you will want to check with your attorney.
How does Copytrack work?
People who claim ownership of images upload those images to Copytrack, which then does a reverse image search and provides to its clients places where the images are found. The client asserts that it owns the images. Copytrack then sends increasingly insistent emails threatening dire fates for those who do not immediately pay.
Now, one small corner of Copytrack’s efforts is legitimate. Artists and designers are understandably angry when others appropriate their work without compensation. Copytrack helps some people receive payment for their work.
There are two major problems.
First, Copytrack takes the word of its clients that they own the images. This results in many false claims. The favorite example is that Copytrack went after the official White House photographer tor using images that he took, and which are legally in the public domain. Many others report being dunned for using public domain images.Second, Copytrack demands outrageous amounts of cash.
My Experience
I maintain a scholarly website called the German Propaganda Archive. It has translations and images of propaganda from the Nazi and East German periods. The copyright status of such material is sometimes tangled, but is either in the public domain in the United States or past copyright expiration deadlines.
On April 12, 2024, Copytrack sent the first email demanding that I either provide proof of a license from their client or go to their web site and pay €15,000, enough to give anyone pause.
On April 20, a second email arrived with similar content. The deadline was May 4.
Their last “reminder” arrived on May 2, with a deadline of May 12.
I haven’t heard anything since then, but won’t be surprised if I get more “friendly” reminders.
I was not concerned with their emails, since the images in question are not owned by their German client, and even if they were, the images are in the public domain in the United States.
What do you do if you hear from Copyrack?
First, determine whether you are infringing someone’s copyright. If so, you may well be liable. However, Copytrack will demand an unreasonable fee. Remember that they are not themselves attorneys, so their demand has no legal force. You might make a reasonable offer for use of the image, far less than they demand, but as I suggest later, since Copytrack is a scummy operation, ignoring them is probably the best policy.
Second, they are based in Germany. That doesn’t mean they can’t hire an attorney and sue you in the United States, but if you are a run-of-the-mill blogger netting $150 a year from your site, they are highly unlikely to sue. Why?
1. Hiring a intellectual property attorney in the United States can run $200 and up an hour.2. Although copyright violations can result in fines of up to $150,000, which sounds scary, that figure is rather like the notice on videos threatening the wrath of the FBI on those who violate copyright. Ever hear of a neighbor who went to jail for copying a video? The point is that lawsuits are expensive and you are unlikely be sued if there is little to be gained.
Assuming they sue, in an American court they need to demonstrate:
That their client suffered financial loss from your use of the image. If you have a blog with limited appeal, that will be difficult to prove.That you benefitted financially from using the image. Again, this is unlikely for most bloggers.
That your use was willful. That is, you knew the material was under copyright. Being ignorant doesn’t absolve you, but would likely reduce the legal liability.
There is another possibility under American law called “Statutory Damages,” which requires that the owner actually register the copyright, which I won’t go into here, but include a link that explains it.
Now, this is all a tad complicated and I am not an attorney. However, reading these four pages from knowledgable sources should calm your concerns.
Potential Damages for Copyright Infringement
In short…..
If you are a blogger who receives limited or no income from your blog, my suggestion is to ignore Copytrack’s emails. It isn’t profitable for them to take legal action against you and they know that many of their claims are bogus. They hope legal language will intimidate those not familiar with copyright law.
Tuesday, March 26, 2024
2300 Letters from East Germany
The GDR also ran Hochschulferienkursen, three-week summer courses for foreign teachers of German, which I am not. Anyone was welcome, however, if they paid in foreign currency, They provided a cheap way to visit East Germany and provided an open visa. I attended the first one in July 1988 in Leipzig.
It was a fascinating experience. I lived with a family. I got their daughter’s bedroom. One of her proud possessions was a bottle of American tabasco sauce. She had what looked to be a telephone, but it only connected to another pseudo-phone in the house. There was a very long waiting list for phones at the time.
I felt guilty about displacing her, so toward the end of my stay I asked her parents if I could take her to the Intershop. Many coveted items were available only there — for foreign currency. The waiting list for a car in East Germany was around ten years. With foreign currency, one could get a Mercedes almost immediately, along with Japanese television sets and other such products.
In retrospect, I should have been more generous. I gave her a budget of 40 West German Marks. She thought long about what to get, finally deciding on some Western clothing and a Coke.
I was interviewed by East German television and had a moment of fame on the national evening news.
Since my German is good, if heavily accented, people immediately recognized that I was American. They wanted to talk. People would invite me over, we’d talk into the night, and they’d ask when could I come again. People felt safe talking with me. Finally I had found a place that recognized what a fascinating person I was…
Still, there was nervousness. During one conversation a man paused, then said: “Ten years ago this conversation would have meant ten years in Bautzen [a GDR prison]. With certainty. Those times are past. [Pause] I hope.”
Now and again I needed East German currency. The official rate was one East German Mark to one West German Mark, but the black market rate was around 10-1. I’d surprise my acquaintances by (illegally) buying Marks from them at the official rate. I’d explain that I liked to be law abiding, but I preferred to deal with them rather than the Staatsbank der DDR.
The experience was stimulating and I decided I needed to know more East Germans. How to do that?
The Wochenpost had a penpal column. Everyone listed was from the Soviet bloc or from countries like India or Egypt. I never saw an American (or other Western) address. But, I thought, it’s worth a try. In January 1989 I sent in my address. I expected that nothing would come of it. Since my issues of the Wochenpost came by surface mail I didn’t realize my address had been printed until a day in April 1989 when five letters arrived from East Berlin. I was puzzled until I opened the first one. Wochenpost had published my address. All people knew is that I was 38, married, and could write in German. Mine was probably the first such address in the history of the GDR. Things in early 1989 were beginning to loosen.
The letters kept coming. A dozen the next day, twenty the day after. One day, the postal carrier came to the door with tray of 230 letters, curious about what was going on. By the time the flow of letters ended I had received about 2300 missives from East Germans eager to write to an American.
My prospective correspondents realized that I would receive a flood of letters. Many said they realized I’d probably not be able to write to them, but hoped I might have a willing friend. The local newspaper ran a picture of me behind a stack of letters. I found about 400 people who were interested in writing to an East German.
I picked about a dozen people who wrote particularly interested letters, including a few with some involvement with the GDR media. But what about all those people I couldn’t write to? I’d asked them to write to me. I couldn’t ignore them.
I decided on a “form letter.” I wrote a four-page letter to the people I’d heard from by June 1989, explaining that I couldn’t write to everyone, but thanked them for their interest and told them something about myself. I gave all the letters to my secretary to type into a list and ran mailing labels. She never quite forgave me.
Now, mailing that many letters was going to be expensive. But it turns out there is the equivalent of international junk mail which allows one to pay by the pound, not the individual letter. There is a permit required. It turns out there was one permit holder in Grand Rapids, the Reformed Ecumenical Synod (now the Reformed Ecumenical Council). They had understandable sympathy for a professor at Calvin College and agreed to allow me to use their permit.
Im May 1989 I sent mail sack with the first 1800 responses by air to East Berlin.
Now, I expected that one of two things would happen. Either all of them would be destroyed, or the Stasi officials who read foreign mail would read a few, decide they were relatively innocuous, and let them through. It turned out to be more interesting than that.
The letters went from East Berlin to the ten regional GDR post offices. About half of those post offices thew them all away (those areas including Leipzig, Halle, Dresden, and Karl-Marx-Stadt). The other regional post offices let them through.
I realized this quickly. I began getting letters from those who understood my problem, but implored me to find another American for them to write to. All of those letters came from certain postal districts, none from the others.
In July 1989 I was enrolled in a second Hochschulferienkurs, this time in Halle (where no letters had been delivered). I took along some addresses of people who had written me and knocked on some doors. People were surprised to see me.
I told one woman who I was, that she had written to me months back, and here I was. She, like the others, was dumbfounded. We talked for a bit, then made arrangements to meet the next week at a nearby restaurant. When we met then she began by saying: “Randy, when you left last week I was afraid you were with the Stasi.” After I stopped laughing, I asked why she would think such a thing.
Well, she had had a relationship with an Austrian businessman who was often in Halle. One day she stepped out of her apartment to go to work and two gentlemen asked her to come along with them. They were obviously Stasi, and one didn’t say no. As she was in the waiting room with others, they discussed why they were there. It turned out that all had some sort of relationship with a Westerner. That was not illegal, but neither was it desired. The Stasi agents explained to her that it might be better not to continue such contacts. Given that experience, it was plausible that I could be a Stasi operative, checking up on her.
Then came fall 1989 and the rotten GDR structure collapsed with astonishingly little violence. I had friends in Leipzig who marched in the demos, fully conscious of the presence of armed state forces that might open fire. For a variety of reasons, they didn’t and once the GDR’s citizens realized that the state was no longer willing to use violence, the system collapsed.
One of the consequences of the end of the GDR was Der Bundesbeauftrage für die Unterlagen des Staatssicherheitsdienstes der ehemaligen Deutschen Demokratischen Republik (the Gauck Commission), which allowed people see edited copies of their Stasi file. I applied to see mine, confident that there had to be a file on me.
To my disappointment, there wasn’t. I was told that some documents were not yet available and that I could ask again after two years, but I never got around to it.
The only trace of me in the Stasi’s files turned out to be a letter one of my correspondent’s father’s file.