Pirate Cinema

Chapter 11

“Aw, Mum, I'm so happy for you! Honestly, that's just brilliant.”

“Shall I tell Cora you called?”

I was about to thank her and ring off, but I stopped. She didn't sound like my mum somehow -- didn't have that note of deep, grinding misery from years and years of chronic pain. Didn't sound like she just wanted to make the world all go away. It was the sound of my mum on her rare good days, the few I remembered growing up, when we'd go to the park or even to a fun fair or a bonfire and she'd smile and we'd all smile back at her. When Mum was happy, the whole family shone.

“Mum? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, sweetie, any time.”

“Well, you know. I'm giving a speech soon, and --” I told her about the meeting and the talk I was supposed to give. “It's only meant to be fifteen minutes or so, but everything I write sounds so stupid. I'm going bonkers here.”

She was quiet for a long time. “Trent,” she said, “we haven't really talked much about this, I know. All this business with copyright and that. I think you probably think I disapprove of it all. But the truth is, you convinced me.” My heart sped up. “I don't know how else to put it. When you started it all, the downloading and making your films, I thought it was a kind of hobby, and I guess it was, though if you say it's art, I'll say it's art. It's not like I'm any kind of authority on art, you know. Never had much use for it, to tell the truth. But the thing that convinced me isn't art or anything like it, it's the idea that protecting copyright is more important than our network connection. I mean, look at me. I was a complete disaster until I was able to use the Internet to look up my troubles. It helped me find people around the world who had the same problems as I did, and even helped me find ladies from right here on my own manor who could help me get out and about. It seems to me that everyone must have a story like this -- look at your sister's education, or your father's job, or the new people next door, the Kofis. They just had a baby, a darling little girl, and their poor old parents in Ghana can't come for a visit. So they have a visit over the video, every night. Take away their Internet, you take away that little girl's chance to know her granny and grandad. Seems to me that's just not right. If the only way the films and music and that can get made is by giving them the power to just cut off all our connections to one another and work and school and health, I think we should just let 'em die.”

My mouth literally hung open. My mum hadn't said anything that profound to me since... well, forever. Or maybe she'd never said anything that profound at a time I was ready to hear it. I know that I'm often ready to ignore anything my parents say. But this came straight from Mum's heart, and she had clearly thought well hard about it. Had I ever wondered how I'd make any of this matter to my parents? What an idiot I was.

“Mum,” I said, “that was genius. Really.”

“Don't pull my leg, Sunshine. It was just what I feel. I thought that knowing you could convince a silly old woman might help you do your talk.”

“Ma, seriously --” I felt for the words. “What you just said, it put it all into perspective for me. It's like --” And then I had it. “Never mind. Thanks, Mum! Love you!”

“Love you too, Trent.” She sounded bemused now. I rang off and put my fingers back on the keyboard.

“It's easy to think nothing we do matters. After all, didn't we mob our MPs when they were debating -- or rather, not debating the Theft of Intellectual Property Bill? And they passed it anyway. Most of 'em didn't even turn up for work that day, couldn't be arsed to show up and defend the voters. And now they're throwing kids in jail at speed for downloading, cutting off families from the Internet as though losing your net access was like being sent to bed without supper.”