Godzilla owners Toho’s lawsuit, filed in California’s Federal Court, alleged the studio is “making a Godzilla film” using its trademark and images of the infamous giant lizard without permission.
“That anyone would engage in such blatant infringement of another’s intellectual property is wrong enough,” the lawsuit stated.
“That defendants, who are known for zealously protecting their own copyrights, would do so is outrageous in the extreme.” –The Advertiser (Adelaide)
They appealed the decision Monday. Among other things, they said Ceglia passed a lie detector test.
“The trial court mistakenly concluded that ‘allegations that defendant deceived or attempted to deceive the court with fictitious documents may be sufficient to state a cause of action for violation of Judiciary Law § 487,’ even where the defendants themselves are not alleged to have participated in creating such documents and their client admittedly passed a polygraph exam concerning the authenticity of the documents,” one of the firms’ appeals said. The firm of Lippes Mathias Wexler Friedman also notes that Ceglia hasn’t even gone to trial on accusations that he forged the document. Milberg’s appeal is here. The appeal from the firm of DLA Piper is here. –Ars Technica
Everyone knows this about the Inklings: that they expressed their longing for tradition and re-enchantment through the literature of fantasy. The Inklings’ penchant for the fantastic is quintessentially English; folktale, fairy-tale, and fantasy motifs permeate English literature from Beowulf, through The Faerie Queene and The Tempest, to the poetry of Byron, Shelley, and Coleridge.
In the middle of the 19th century, this national love for the fantastic gave rise to the modern fantasy novel. Immediately Oxford moved into the foreground, as John Ruskin, in his neo-Grimm fable The King of the Golden River (1841, written while he was an Oxford undergraduate), and Lewis Carroll, in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865, the quintessential Oxford classic), laid the groundwork for a genre brought to early perfection by the Scotsman George MacDonald, their mutual friend, in his three children’s classics, At the Back of the North Wind (1871), The Princess and the Goblin (1872), and The Princess and Curdie (1883), and his two fantasies, Phantastes (1858) and Lilith (1895). A few years later, William Morris, Edward Burne-Jones (both Oxford alumni), and other members of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood produced novels, poetry, and paintings with fantastic themes, bathed with a lovely, romantic, neo-medieval light that would deeply influence the artistic maturation of both Lewis and Tolkien.
Fantasy, then, was in Oxford’s blood, and it is no wonder that the major Inklings experimented in so many fantastic subgenres (myth, science fiction, fable, epic fantasy, children’s fantasy, supernatural thriller, and more). They chose to be fantasists for a variety of reasons — or, rather, fantasy seemed to choose them, each one falling in love with the genre in youth (Lewis in Ireland, Tolkien in Birmingham, Williams and Barfield in London) many years before coming to Oxford. Their passion arose, in part, from the sheer excitement of the genre, the intoxication of entering the unknown and fleeing the everyday. –Chronicle of Higher Education
Each state’s representative fiction book was chosen based on Goodreads scores for series with over 50,000 ratings. If no book from the state reached that vote threshold, we selected the highest-rated in the closest tier of votes. No parts of series that cannot stand alone were included; in other words, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz qualified while Twilight did not. –Arts.mic