11-03-17 -- Roy Robin - Stephan Kinsella - Alan Korwin -- (VIDEO MP3 LOADED)
Roy Robin (Founder ICO Token Fund) talks about their decentralized investment platform - Stephan Kinsella (Intellectual Property Attorney) and Alan Korwin (Author; GunLaws.Com) discuss intellectual property and copyright issues
Friday, November 3, 2017
Time: 48:48 Mins and Secs
Time: 136:0 Mins and Secs
I wanted to let you know about a fantastic ICO called ICOT (Initial Coin Offering Token) that I have been privileged to become a part of. You might want to get in while it is still cheap!! (Just a thought)
This coin consists of 2 parts and solves a major problem in the crypto world. First, it acts just like any other cryptocoin out there in existence as it can be bought, held, or sold for profit. Second, which is amazing in my opinion, you can stake a percentage of your coins and thereby own a percent of the profits made when the company invests into other ICOs. Basically you become part of a Shark Tank but for ICOs!! This coin aims to reduce the risk associated with ICOs, which as someone who is taking part in that area of the cryptocurrency world, I greatly appreciate.
However, with all that being said, with so many coins being made it's hard to tell scam coins from coins that have potential. So how has ICOT dealt with that? Well, what ICOT has done is to create a team of highly experienced crypto investors to sift through all the ICOs. Their job is to pick the ones that have the best potential and invest in them. If you stake some of your coins when ICOT earns a profit off one of these ICOs, you make money off it as well the percentage of which being based off your stake amount compared to the total pool of staked ICOT. Granted, though, staked ICOT are burned but that does not mean that you lose your percentage......it's just part of the process and increases the overall value of the remaining ICOT. But what if I don't want to stake? No worries, you don't have to, you can just keep the coins and sell them when you want if you so choose.
Here is a little bit more regarding the specifics:
It is an ERC20 Token with a Circulating Supply of 30,000,000. It's total supply is 100,000,000 but 70,000,000 are to be BURNED in first year which will increase the value of the remaining ICOT tokens!
What does the road map look like?
- October 2017
ICO rounds a total of 10m tokens to be sold at .25c, .50c, .75c, $1.00 and $1.50
ICOT confirmed it will be listed on COINEXCHANGE.IO
ICOT listed and reviewed by verifiedicos.com
ICOT listed in one of the largest ICO directories
- 6th November 2017 (Right around the corner!!)
ICO rounds end
All unsold coins are BURNED
- 8th November 2017
ICOT listed on major exchanges
ICOT acquires its first investments
- 1st January 2018
The CoinLock System™ Wallet v1.0 will be released
Coins will be staked/burned
There is a very active Slack channel where you can discuss the project with the entire team and those who have already become a part of this ICO!!
We would really like it if you came and said hello.
Any questions feel free to ask! I can help you get set up and I'd be more than happy to help where I can.
I believe this project to be a game changer and would hate for you to miss out on such a great opportunity.
With his wife Cheryl he operates Bloomfield Press, the largest publisher and distributor of gun-law books in America. His website, GunLaws.com, features a free National Directory to every gun law in the country and more than 300 books and DVDs for gun owners and the freedom movement. Alan's blog, PageNine.org, is carried by scores of paper and online outlets. Wild rumors about his outrageous political-parody band, The Cartridge Family, could not be confirmed at press time.
This is a truly amazing talk about copyright. And waaaay back in 2006! Truly amazing. From Karl Fogel at QuestionCopyright.org. What is truly impressive is how prescient Fogel is, and how he comes at this not from a libertarian angle but still gets it right on every major theme, and without being anti-free market.
There is one group of people not shocked by the record industry's policy of suing randomly chosen file sharers: historians of copyright. They already know what everyone else is slowly finding out: that copyright was never primarily about paying artists for their work, and that far from being designed to support creators, copyright was designed by and for distributors — that is, publishers, which today includes record companies. But now that the Internet has given us a world without distribution costs, it no longer makes any sense to restrict sharing in order to pay for centralized distribution. Abandoning copyright is now not only possible, but desirable. Both artists and audiences would benefit, financially and aesthetically. In place of corporate gatekeepers determining what can and can't be distributed, a much finer-grained filtering process would allow works to spread based on their merit alone. We would see a return to an older and richer cosmology of creativity, one in which copying and borrowing openly from others' works is simply a normal part of the creative process, a way of acknowledging one's sources and of improving on what has come before. And the old canard that artists need copyright to earn a living would be revealed as the pretense it has always been.
None of this will happen, however, if the industry has its way. For three centuries, the publishing industry has been working very hard to obscure copyright's true origins, and to promote the myth that it was invented by writers and artists. Even today, they continue to campaign for ever stronger laws against sharing, for international treaties that compel all nations to conform to the copyright policies of the strictest, and most of all to make sure the public never asks exactly who this system is meant to help.
The reward for these efforts can be seen in the public's reaction to the file-sharing lawsuits. While most people agree that this time the industry went too far, the error is mainly treated as one of degree — as if the record companies had a valid point, but had merely resorted to excessive force in making it.
To read the true history of copyright is to understand just how completely this reaction plays into the industry's hands. The record companies don't really care whether they win or lose these lawsuits. In the long run, they don't even expect to eliminate file sharing. What they're fighting for is much bigger. They're fighting to maintain a state of mind, an attitude toward creative work that says someone ought to own products of the mind, and control who can copy them. And by positioning the issue as a contest between the Beleaguered Artist, who supposedly needs copyright to pay the rent, and The Unthinking Masses, who would rather copy a song or a story off the Internet than pay a fair price, the industry has been astonishingly successful. They have managed to substitute the loaded terms "piracy" and "theft" for the more accurate "copying" — as if there were no difference between stealing your bicycle (now you have no bicycle) and copying your song (now we both have it). Most importantly, industry propaganda has made it a commonplace belief that copyright is how most creators earn a living — that without copyright, the engines of intellectual production would grind to a halt, and artists would have neither means nor motivation to produce new works.
Yet a close look at history shows that copyright has never been a major factor in allowing creativity to flourish. Copyright is an outgrowth of the privatization of government censorship in sixteenth-century England. There was no uprising of authors suddenly demanding the right to prevent other people from copying their works; far from viewing copying as theft, authors generally regarded it as flattery. The bulk of creative work has always depended, then and now, on a diversity of funding sources: commissions, teaching jobs, grants or stipends, patronage, etc. The introduction of copyright did not change this situation. What it did was allow a particular business model — mass pressings with centralized distribution — to make a few lucky works available to a wider audience, at considerable profit to the distributors.
The arrival of the Internet, with its instantaneous, costless sharing, has made that business model obsolete — not just obsolete, but an obstacle to the very benefits copyright was alleged to bring society in the first place. Prohibiting people from freely sharing information serves no one's interests but the publishers'. Although the industry would like us to believe that prohibiting sharing is somehow related to enabling artists to make a living, their claim does not stand up to even mild scrutiny. For the vast majority of artists, copyright brings no economic benefits. True, there are a few stars — some quite talented — whose works are backed by the industry; these receive the lion's share of distribution investment, and generate a correspondingly greater profit, which is shared with the artist on better than usual terms because the artist's negotiating position is stronger. Not coincidentally, these stars are who the industry always holds up as examples of the benefits of copyright.
But to treat this small group as representative would be to confuse marketing with reality. Most artists' lives look nothing like theirs, and never will, under the current spoils system. That is why the stereotype of the impoverished artist remains alive and well after three hundred years.
The publishing industry's campaign to preserve copyright is waged out of pure self-interest, but it forces on us a clear choice. We can watch as most of our cultural heritage is stuffed into a vending machine and sold back to us dollar by dollar — or we can reexamine the copyright myth and find an alternative.
The first copyright law was a censorship law. It was not about protecting the rights of authors, or encouraging them to produce new works. Authors' rights were in little danger in sixteenth-century England, and the recent arrival of the printing press (the world's first copying machine) was if anything energizing to writers. So energizing, in fact, that the English government grew concerned about too many works being produced, not too few. The new technology was making seditious reading material widely available for the first time, and the government urgently needed to control the flood of printed matter, censorship being as legitimate an administrative function then as building roads.
The method the government chose was to establish a guild of private-sector censors, the London Company of Stationers, whose profits would depend on how well they performed their function. The Stationers were granted a royal monopoly over all printing in England, old works as well as new, in return for keeping a strict eye on what was printed. Their charter gave them not only exclusive right to print, but also the right to search out and confiscate unauthorized presses and books, and even to burn illegally printed books. No book could be printed until it was entered in the company's Register, and no work could be added to the Register until it had passed the crown's censor, or had been self-censored by the Stationers. The Company of Stationers became, in effect, the government's private, for-profit information police force .