Copyright

How Not To Write About The Celebrity Hacking Thing

ESPN, your trusted source for manufactured controversy, chose to report on this actual controversy in the most opaque manner possible.

I asked my fiancée if she wanted to see naked pictures of Jennifer Lawrence. “Sure.” So I showed her. “She looks good.” Then she scratched her nose and went back to planning our wedding. “What about Kate Upton?” “Sure.” So I showed her. “She’s got huge boobs.” Her nose still itched. The seating chart was still totally fudged up. Pretty uneventful Sunday night as those go.

Last weekend, the Internet exploded in a terrific tumescence over naked pictures of women. You probably heard. But now, after the hot action, and while the whole world smokes a post-coital cigarette, we are left to sort through the regret. Chief among this shame is news that one of the stars of the tawdry affair may have been underage when the pictures were taken. Mc-kay-la: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Mc. Kay. La.

ESPN, your trusted source for manufactured controversy, chose to report on this actual controversy in the most opaque manner possible.

Here’s how…

The news that Olympic gymnast and human meme McKayla Maroney may have been a minor when the naked pictures of her were taken is fairly straightforward news that requires little elaboration. Still, ESPN manages to f**k it all up so that you have no idea what is being reported. The first sentence in ESPN’s piece sets the tone:

U.S. Olympic gymnast McKayla Maroney is reportedly a part of the online hacking scandal that has recently affected movie celebrities and other athletes like Justin Verlander.

Reportedly part of the scandal? This sentence drips with a kind of yucky disgust and pearl-clutching that can’t bother to actually confront the truth: McKayla Maroney is part of the online hacking scandal. I saw her alleged tits. The end.

After disclaiming any real knowledge of what they are about to report, the anonymous writer (or dumb robot) next uncorks this third-hand nonsense:

According to TMZ, a lawyer for Maroney says nude photos that were allegedly hacked from her account and posted to the Internet were taken when she was under the age of 18, constituting the material to be child pornography.

Constituting the material to be child pornography. I don’t know what this means. The only thing that matters in this article — that half of America may have ogled underage boobs — is swaddled in so much gibberish.

Maybe the third sentence in the article will clarify matters?

Lawyers representing the gymnast sent letters to multiple websites, demanding that the photos be taken down since she owns the copyright to the material, TMZ reported.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Copyright? We went from Pedobear to Lawrence Lessig in one sentence, flat. That’s got to be some kind of record, right?

Well, this is where the McKayla Maroney story gets interesting, from a legal perspective. Copyright law is actually a useful cudgel for those who are the victims of child pornography. Especially, it seems, those selfies that may end up constituting the material to be child pornography. Here is an article that dives deep into the subject.

But again, the ESPN story is so disgusted by the whole affair that they can’t be bothered to explain the various elements of it.

Luckily for the writer or for ESPN or for the reader who is still confused about what is happening to McKayla Maroney, the story ends with good news. Forget everything we just said! here are some tweets!

McKayla’s argument, in the end, is quite legally savvy (even if actually bullshit). Those pictures are child pornography. I am the copyright holder of them. In the alternative, they are not of me. A huge thank you to my fans, of course. Emoji emoji emoji.

If you read the ESPN article and are still confused, I’m sorry. If you read this post and are still confused, please feel free to saunter into the less savory parts of the Internet and check out the scandalous pictures. Or not. I don’t have time to escort you. This wedding reception won’t plan itself.