I’d mentioned before some of the benefits of hosting my haiku images on Flickr. Turns out there are drawbacks as well.

Yesterday I noticed one of the haiku I wrote a couple years ago (and scribbled for a handwritten post last year) was getting a noticeable amount of unattributed notoriety on various social networking sites. The same haiku has also gotten a bit of proper attribution in the past on some of the same sites, which I wholly appreciate, but lately a few Tumblrers with decent followings of their own have taken to simply copying the photo, or quoting the haiku, and giving no credit or links back to the original.

As someone who spends a lot of time creating these haiku and the corresponding images, this is frustrating. Nobody enjoys having their work go uncredited, or worse, credited to someone else. I’m no exception. It’s not that I expect to make large sums of money, or to achieve great fame, through my written efforts, but when a handful of these efforts gets noticed by a wider audience, it would nice to at least be recognized for the effort I’ve made.

I even have a specific license spelling out the terms under which I allow others to share my work. I have never had a problem with folks using my images or the haiku, provided they give me a little credit — or at least a little link love.

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afternoon meetings
cut down runaway rumors
– like mowing the lawn

*
Ever notice how people are when rumors start?

Lately my work environment has become prone to rampant rumors. I suppose it’s part of the territory in tense economic times. Uncertainty is inevitable these days, even in relatively strong companies. What brings it home to me is that I find myself in a position to be asked about every idiotic rumor that comes down the line. They’re rarely rational. In fact, I’ve been noticing the popularity of a rumor tends to be inversely proportional to how realistic it is.

The other annoying thing about these types of on-the-job, sky-is-falling rumors is that too many people will believe a staggeringly incredible, painstakingly detailed lie over a calm, simple refutation of said lie. Here’s a (slightly) fictitious example of what I mean:

concerned coworker: “Have you heard they’re going to eliminate all our jobs and replace us with alien workers?”
me: “You mean like migrant workers?”
concerned coworker: “No, I mean real aliens! From space!”
me: “That’s ridiculous.”
concerned coworker: “No, it’s true — Stan from QC told me he saw a large, strange-looking truck outside that he’s never seen before. He told me he heard from his supervisor that they have Martians in the back of the truck in little refrigerated pods, and they’re going to start assimilating them into the workforce next Monday! You mean you really don’t know about this? ‘Cause I thought you’d already know…”
me: “Nope, I haven’t heard a word about it — but that’s probably just because it’s completely untrue. You do understand what you’re saying is ridiculous, right?”
concerned coworker: “Are you sure Howard? — ’cause I wouldn’t put anything past those greedy bastards upstairs.”

Don’t worry, that wasn’t supposed to make sense. I just wanted to give you a slight handle on what I’ve been putting up with for the past two weeks.

It’s not that I’d ever put anything past those “greedy bastards upstairs.” It’s just that the scenario was utterly idiotic, yet in many ways as believable as some of the rumors people have been regurgitating to me. And by the time I’ve finally talked most of my panick-stricken coworkers off their ledge, somewhere beyond my scope of awareness, tomorrow’s best-selling horror story has already taken root.

Come to think of it, it’s not so much like mowing the lawn as it is pulling weeds.

mirage beckoning,
my inspiration leaves me
drifting aimlessly.