Felix! Well, it seems I have a new setup here. .

. Let's start anyway. On May 31st, 2023, the torrent download site known as RARBG was shut down.

Is that how you say it? R-A-R-B-G? R-A-R.

. . A?

Is that right? Some call it "rental store". The decision to shut it down came from the developers themselves, when they realized that keeping it running was becoming unsustainable.

Now you're right in front of the, the, the, the. . .

the lamp. You're ruining the lighting, move! In addition to the COVID-19 pandemic, the team experienced problems related to the war in Ukraine, and inflation in Europe severely increased the operating costs.

Anyway, it seems it's not easy or cheap to keep that working. Why am I talking about this? RARBG was online since 2008, and the website shutdown was one of the most significant of the "area" because.

. . well, it was the fourth most visited link in the world in that "category".

Millions of people in different countries resorted to RARBG in order to, shall we say, "bypass certain paywalls". Besides representing easy access to content, there was something more not only in RARBG existing, but in every other legally ambiguous way of consuming media. I mean, pfff, "ambiguous".

Piracy is a crime, right? But what is a "crime"? No idea, ask Michel Foucault.

And it goes beyond the crime itself. According to the 2000s DVDs, the money that goes in piracy is the same that goes into organized crime. Can I give change in bullets?

Okay. Alright, regardless of being a crime or unethical, piracy. .

. exists. And it's a big part of the Internet's existence.

Or at least it used to be. With websites like RARBG and legendas. tv shutting down, and the consolidation of "legitimate" models of media consumption, it seems to me that what we lose in this process is not just the possibility of watching Succession without paying a monthly subscription, but it's something.

. . deeper.

Thinking about the possibility, however remote, of piracy simply ending, what is at stake? Subtitles: Gabriela Spinola Hi, I'm Thiago, and in this video we're gonna discuss piracy in its most diverse ways. But first, a little word from our sponsors.

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But get back here. What was I talking about? Piracy.

Clarifying: I'm not encouraging organized crime, or any kind of crime. To be honest, I would never steal a car. YOU WOULD NEVER STEAL A CAR But I can't deny that my main cultural references have only reached me through piracy.

Before Netflix and Spotify existed, I was, in the 2000s, a faithful acolyte of the "Full Discographies" community on Orkut. Paradoxically, at the same time that SoulSeek, Kazaa and eMule were an integral part of my Million Bucks Computer. .

. The Million Bucks Computer Third Generation is awesome! I was also being bombarded by anti-piracy campaigns that said I'd never steal a car, thus, why am I downloading pirated stuff?

Indeed, I've never stolen a car. I don't even know how to drive. Despite these dramatic campaigns, or maybe partly because of them, there was, and I think there still is, a certain glamor in piracy.

An aesthetic stand, provided by the antisystem stand, by the search for unexplored treasures, by the freedom on the high seas. . .

Hold on! Wrong piracy, right? Or is it?

Isn't it interesting that we use the word "pirate" for two very different things? Are they really that different at all? Considering this curious coincidence, I'd like to excuse myself here to, before talking about piracy, get to talk a little bit about.

. . piracy.

In 1705, Captain Thomas Green was sentenced to death. The reason? Piracy.

Back then, Thomas and his beloved pirate companions were arrested after allegedly raiding the Speedy Return ship and killing Captain Robert Drmmond, of the British Mediterranean Fleet. In the end, none of the allegations were proven, not even the death of the victim. However, this was dragged on for two years in the courts.

And since piracy was a crime, Thomas was hanged on April 11, 1705. But not before saying the following: "A PIRATE IS IN A PERPETUAL WAR. .

. Sorry, I'll read it straight. "A pirate is in a perpetual war with every individual, and every State, Christian or infidel.

Pirates properly have no country, but by the nature of their guilt, separate themselves, and renounce on this matter, the benefit of all lawful societies. " Over the years, this "pirate" character has been assimilated by pop culture, which turned this creature into an outcast from society. Talk about One Piece !

An ugly being with severed limbs who's always drinking, stealing, killing, partying and bravely sailing across the seven seas. That is, when they're not being. .

. gay. Before gaining this status, piracy emerges as a decentralized movement, with no homeland, leader or flag.

Its history, of course, is as old as navigation itself. The first records of piracy are from the 5th century B. C.

in the Persian Gulf and the Mediterranean, where thieves invaded and looted merchant ships. But the pirate established in the collective imagination and that dominates cinema and pop culture has a very specific origin in History. The "Pirates of the Caribbean" as we know them gained strength between the 16th and 18th centuries, when the transport of wealth across the Atlantic increases.

European nations start to face the sea not as a big blue monster, but as an opportunity to explore new lands, natural resources, and of course. . .

People. Because, you know, colonizers. On the other side of this official wave of Great Navigations, the pirates appear.

From different nationalities, main records pinpoint these eccentric figures between the Caribbean and the Atlantic Ocean. Unless you do, you'll walk the plank! The choice is up to you!

The choice is up to you! More than thieves on the high seas, pirates were survivors. There was a culture of survival around these people.

Because working on official vessels meant facing many dangers, getting badly paid, contamination by diseases such as scurvy, and having no guarantee of an adequate financial return. We're talking about the period of the Great Navigations, of the colonization of the Americas, the slave trade in the Atlantic, and all kinds of crap. It's important for us to also see pirates also as marginalized individuals in this whole process.

These people were often exiles, runaways, excluded from social settings in a world that was changing rapidly and in a context where great European empires were accumulating great fortunes by exploiting and enslaving other peoples. Piracy appears here as an alternative. A dangerous alternative, but one that could guarantee a little bit of freedom.

Until the British Navy arrested and killed everyone. Chill, I'm not here to say the Atlantic pirates were wronged, good, innocent people, or precious little fairies who fought bravely against the atrocities of European imperialism. No.

Real life is a bit more complicated than theme park-based franchises. What we now call the "Golden Age" of piracy was a period that lasted for over a century and went through different phases and settings. It was a complex phenomenon that ended up being translated into pop culture in a simpler, more summarized way.

Lately, I don't even trust my own shadow! Some historians often make a distinction between buccaneers, the "actual" pirates, and the corsairs, who were commissioned and legitimized by the European kingdoms. Both of these groups engaged in looting, robbing, bombings, violence and every kind of crime and atrocity.

But only one of them won a stamp of approval. An "original product" stamp. A pirate movie!

Buccaneers were usually people from a slightly lower social class. Refugees, criminals, convicts, people who lost everything due to wars, natural disasters, et cetera. As for the corsairs, many of them were of a higher class.

They were high-ranking officials, counts, dukes, and sometimes even kings seeking adventure to escape boredom. So, are you telling me that something is only a crime when power structures say it is? I don't know, ask Alexandre de Moraes.

Anyway, these are very summarized, generic definitions for a heterogeneous, complex phenomenon. Not every buccaneer was poor, or every corsair rich, not everything fits in a 20-minute video. Despite all this, there's a specific version of pirates that lives in the collective imagination.

Talk about One Piece ! That adventurous figure, immortalized in legends of a new world being discovered, of treasures buried at the bottom of the sea. One of the main responsible for building this imagery was a guy named Robert L.

Stevenson, who wrote the book Treasure Island . Published in 1833, Treasure Island was the foundation for several film adaptations, and some parodies, like the Muppets and the Trapalhões versions. Our flag is already raised and I know who has the map!

I do! From Treasure Island on, we'll have a romanticization of the pirate as this adventurous character, who's just enough of a transgressor, and who hides great treasures in remote islands. God's sake, talk about One Piece!

A romanticization relegated to a specific type of pirate: the Portuguese, English, French, Dutch; and partially denied to clandestine sailors from North Africa, Middle East, Asia. . .

A Lebanese researcher called Nabil Matar says the following: "Pirates were part of the economy of that period, and were rewarded for their efforts on behalf of their respective rulers. Therefore, the perception of pirates as 'villains' was relative, as one empire’s pirates were clearly another empire’s 'swashbuckling heroes'. " So, even the thought of ?

? the pirate as this totally stateless figure is also just a piece of the story. A lot is lost in this process of fictionalizing and romanticizing piracy.

And, as usual, the simplification of a complex historical phenomenon also ends up reproducing a wee bit of racism and orientalism. Don't wanna focus on this, just thought I should mention it. What matters for this video is this sense of adventure and exploration associated with pirate stories, which has been updated in pop culture over the years.

From Peter Pan's Captain Hook to the Goonies' pirate ship, the fictionalized version of piracy allowed the possibility of dreaming of adventures where children could find treasures and. . .

help with the economies, I don't know. In this sense, the most emblematic contemporary example emerged in the early 2000s. Pirates of the Caribbean is first out as a Disney amusement park, and later, it becomes a successful franchise starring.

. . Well, you know who.

And these films are interesting because they evoke an allegedly more classic representation of the pirate, just as they deconstruct this representation for the new generation. Between the hits and misses of an already worn out franchise that now has a shitload of movies, the pirate is portrayed as a sort of an anti-hero. Kind of a punk, anarchist character.

And they're confirmed to be inspired by 1970s rock stars, such as Keith Richards, Iggy Pop, and Bianca. At first, Jack Sparrow wasn't meant to be the lead of Pirates of the Caribbean . But the audience was invested in this subversive version of a pirate, and the character ended up becoming the face of the franchise in the following films.

At least until certain people got involved in certain scandals, but let's skip that. Due to this acceptance from major audiences, there is the reinforcement of an anti-establishment, rebellious aesthetic, just as the film adds a rather traditional mysticism to the image of the pirate, as if someone had pasted a "Hero's Journey" sticker on the face of a character who is not exactly a hero. Weird, but that's what happens when a character who's allegedly rebellious, anarchic and punk rock becomes the face of a million-dollar franchise which includes a shitload of movies, theme parks, books, games and Azealia Banks' machete.

Just kidding. But Pirates of the Caribbean isn't the only portrayal of pirates in contemporary pop culture. God's sake, talk about One-- Since the 2000s, several movies and TV shows tried to ride on the success of the Disney franchise, including a Treasure Island adaptation starring Elijah Wood made in 2012.

And of course, we can't forget. . .

Some of these examples, especially the British series Black Sails and the American show Our Flag is Death , embark, with greater or lesser intensity, on the idea of ? ? the pirate as a marginalized figure or dissident.

That is, gays. But in terms of mainstream representations, nothing even came close to Pirates of the Caribbean . Except, of course.

. . But hey, One Piece is a special case.

It's a whole other video. Also, I have never watched it. So.

. . I won't talk about One Piece .

Sorry. If the biggest franchise of the genre inserted the figure of the pirate into the big capitalism machine, I mean. .

. If the pirate has turned into theme parks and millionaire franchises, if in this sense, the pop culture pirate became a hero, where did the rebellious pirate go? Hackers: Computer Hackers.

The year was 1995, and Angelina Jolie awakened the sexualities of millions of bisexual teenagers around the world. Described as a movie about a digital pirate, Hackers follows the story of computer prodigies who fight a security agent known as "Plague". This boy here is a genius, knows it all about computers!

Hackers is amazing. This is the history of cinema in the making. Mechanical keyboards make dramatic sounds, the black and green screens anticipate an aesthetic that would be consolidated in Matrix , and there's Shaggy.

What else could we need? But behind all that façade and Angelina Jolie's short hair, there is also a promise of emancipation. These hackers, these pirates, they're like superheroes.

With their secret identities, with their codenames, and a mission in the world: build a new world order. But it's a different kind of heroism than what we're now used to. Like in the Marvel movies, where the heroes are.

. . Yeah, almost all of them are US government employees.

These guys here? They're fighting the system. Contrary to what it may seem, piracy in the hacker sense is not born with Angelina Jolie.

I know, it's hard to imagine that anything wouldn't start with Angelina Jolie. No way, right? But we work with facts.

So. . .

Where does this idea come from? The Easter Rising was a rebellion in Ireland led by republicans who fought against British ruling in the region. One of the first pirate radio broadcasts in history happened as to announce to the locals, to the rebels, that the Republic of Ireland had been declared.

Throughout the 20th century, several pirate radios were popping up around the world, threatening the hegemony of traditional media. One of them was called Radio Mercur, and it was transmitted from a fishing boat in Denmark. That's probably why the name "pirate" took on as a synonym for clandestine broadcast.

It's a reference to clandestine navigations. These transmissions were, partially, a form of political activism. It was a way of giving people information that was being suppressed by the elites.

You might be thinking "suppressed" is too strong of a word, that could only be applied to terrible dictatorships like China, North Korea, Venezuela, Cuba! But there are many ways to suppress information. When one posts news of public interest behind a paywall, they're gatekeeping information from those who can't afford it.

Not to mention limits, focuses, data distortion and unflagged advertisements. Be it on the radio, TV Cruj or the Million Bucks Computer, piracy has a lot to do with the democratization of information and culture, a very important battle which has been waged by several activists around the world to this day. One of the most important names in this area is Aaron Swartz, who unfortunately passed away in 2013.

In his 2008 Guerrilla Open Access Manifesto , the programmer and activist wrote: "Information is power. But like all power, there are those who want to keep it for themselves. The world's entire scientific and cultural heritage, published over centuries in books and journals, is increasingly being digitized and locked up by a handful of private corporations.

Want to read the papers featuring the most famous results of the sciences? You'll need to send enormous amounts to publishers like Reed Elsevier. " I want to talk a bit more about Aaron Swartz, but in another video.

For now, you just need to understand that: information is power. Withholding information is a way to retain power. It is leaving the population blind under the control of corporations.

The word "pirate" here, in the "hacker" sense, returns to its classic meaning, which was registered back in 1701, as follows: "one who takes another's work without permission. " So yes, technically, piracy is theft. But is it wrong?

In the figure of the hacker, we saw the rise of tools that make access to culture easier. That make world culture accessible. The Pirate Bay, RARBG, video download tools, and illegal anime sites.

But just as the British Navy emerged to put an end to piracy on the seas, some tools emerge to destroy, to make cyber piracy impracticable, with a discourse that equals the democratic distribution of culture to mere theft. But is it really theft? As I said before, piracy is indeed a crime.

I do not recommend it. Don't do that. It's wrong, it's unethical.

The people who produce, who work, who create content, movies, series, music, they deserve to be paid for their work. Nowadays, with a mere monthly subscription, we can have access to plenty of cultural heritages in a legitimate way, without breaking any laws. It's all there, just a button away.

Accessible, available, ready to be seen. But is it really? On April 6th, 2023, the game Quantum Break was removed from the Game Pass catalog and could no longer be purchased from the Xbox Store or through Steam.

The game is a multimedia adventure that blends a serialized narrative with gameplay in order to deliver an immersive, innovative experience. It wasn't exactly well-praised in its release, and to this day it divides fans and critics alike. But regardless of ratings and sales numbers, this game is part of History and, out of the blue, since it no longer integrated the catalog of a platform, it ceased to exist.

Even though it returned to Game Pass days later, the situation is still a reminder that, on the Internet, knowledge is not free. Call Me By Your Name , for example, one of the most important films in contemporary LGBT cinema, can only be watched through Prime Video, and only with English subtitles. How are young white gays going to learn how to be gay?

It's an educational crisis! Okay, you can rent or even buy this movie on other platforms. For now.

Until companies decide that keeping this film available is not profitable. All digital media that we "have" is not exactly "ours". Rather, it's just ours as long as platforms agree it's financially worth it to keep that work available.

The book on your Kindle, the digital movie you bought, can all go offline at any given moment. Just because someone decided. It's exactly what's been happening.

Our access to culture, to cultural heritages, it is controlled by a corporate gate. So, besides knowledge not being free because we pay for it, be it with our data or our real money, the era of streaming has gone to the point of cutting down the options of what might reach the public. Even if we were to pay all subscriptions to all services, or to buy these works separately, there is no guarantee that this knowledge, that this cultural heritage will remain within our reach.

Most of the time, it never remains. Last year, entertainment website IGN reported that the reason HBO Max removed 36 titles from their streaming catalog was to dodge residual payment to the creators of the removed shows and movies. Residual pay is what directors, screenwriters and creators in general get paid when a product is rerun, released on physical media, or made available on a streaming platform.

This is one of the main claims of the writers' strike that's going on in the US right now. Several of these contents that simply ceased to exist when removed from the catalog were original products from the networks, and many of them were shows and movies created and written by Black, indigenous and LGBT people. So, not only do we have fewer options of things to watch, but even when deciding what comes out of the air, other matters become relevant.

We don't get to watch these works, and the creators don't get to make money. Everyone loses. A chart published on AdWeek reveals the number of movies available in the Netflix catalog organized according to the decade in which they were released, and the disparity is brutal.

There is no interest in keeping pre-2000 movies in the catalog. It's unprofitable to keep these products available. It is not profitable to preserve history and culture.

In a piece published by the L. A. Times, Dennis Doros, a guy who tends to film preservation and restoration, stated that.

. . "There are a large number of films that didn’t make the migration from VHS to DVD to Blu-ray to streaming.

We’re talking about thousands of films. It’s not just about film literacy, it’s about preserving the fabric of our culture. " In the absence of official resources, piracy fills that void.

It appears as an alternative. An imperfect, and of course, illegal alternative. But without it, today, how can we be sure that, for example, Black cinema will really be preserved?

Or that Queer cinema will be accessible to future generations? What will be of media, art, society, when all our access to culture and information is kept behind those corporate gates? What stories are we missing?

Which movies will never be watched again? Which books will be forgotten? All this discussion is erased when we reduce the debate to simply "So, is it or isn't it a crime?

" You know, if we have to talk about "theft", what is theft? Our data is being "collected" all the time. Artificial intelligences, the new internet frenzy, are built from our data, from the things we share online.

From our selfies, okay, but also from our work, because we work on the Internet. From our faces, our illustrations, from videos of artists who share their work on social media, so they can be turned into the opening of a Marvel show and we won't earn a dime from it. The only reason none of this is considered "theft" is because we signed a Term of Use in 1998.

It's because someone "legitimized" these practices as something that, I don't know, isn't theft. But who decides that? Who decides what is and what isn't theft?

Who decides what is "theft" and what is "data collection as mentioned in the fine print of a Term of Use"? Who decides what is "legitimate" and what is "clandestine"? Who decides who has the right to commit atrocities in the middle of the ocean?

I'll leave this one to Michel Foucault. Since you wouldn't steal a car, please do not pirate this video.

PIRATARIA: do Oceano aos DOWNLOADS ILEGAIS e a Luta pelo Conhecimento Livre