Stealing Minds and Destroying Morale: LibGen, Meta, and AI

Last week I learned that all four of the books for which I am sole author, or co-author, were illegally pirated by Library Genesis (LibGen). The LibGen database was in turn scraped illegally by Meta, the parent company of Facebook, Instagram, and Threads, for the purpose of training the company’s AI (Artificial Intelligence) program in use of the English language. How many literary works were compromised? What recourse do authors have? Why is this a problem? Go make the popcorn and brace yourself.

I am not alone in having my works taken illegally, without notification, without my consent, and certainly without compensation. An estimated 7.5 million books, articles, and scientific papers are on the LibGen website. Nearly all of my writer and science friends, and even their parents, are victims of this intellectual property theft. If you have ever had anything published, you need to search LibGen.

Thankfully, The Atlantic magazine provides a search tool, for free, in the top left corner of the page in this hyperlink. Use it. Search for the names of people you know, and notify them if their works appear.

If you are not already a member of the Authors Guild, I strongly recommend becoming one. This particular case is high profile, but only the tip of the iceberg. There are many other piracy platforms that provide free access to literature without compensating the author or the publisher. Authors Guild has a strong legal team that fights for the rights of authors against copyright violations, against book bans, against publishing scams aimed at newbie authors, and many other issues including slow payment and non-payment by publishers.

You may hear from various sources that LibGen is actually the “good guy,” and it is only Meta that is at fault in this case. Publishing is a complicated industry, its landscape changing almost daily. One argument I saw praising LibGen involves the fact it “archives” ebooks, which became even more important after February 26, 2025. On that date, Amazon made it impossible to download ebooks from Kindle to your computer, or any device over which you have control of the files. The fact that you can fetch them from LibGen does not let that pirating company off the hook, it simply punishes Amazon and the authors of those ebooks.

Most publishers of scientific journals truly are evil, though. First, the author pays exorbitant page fees to have their work published. Then, the publisher puts those papers behind a paywall that essentially shuts off access to the general public. I confess that without the “services” provided by the kin of LibGen, I would have extraordinary difficulty conducting research for my own books. I simply do not have the time to contact the author of a given paper, provided they are still alive, with a public email address, and ask them if they can provide me with a PDF of the paper I am seeking. God forbid that capitalism could keep its dirty fingers out of the pie of collective knowledge we should all be able to access, and that authors should not have to pay to publish.

Back to the current issue for a moment. What can authors do? Class action lawsuits against Meta are in the works, and I will likely let Authors Guild and the law firms do the heavy lifting on the behalf of us authors. AG also has a ”What Authors Need to Know” page listing additional courses of action, including a template for a letter you can send to Z-man, the CEO of Meta, to express your outrage, and/or concern. If your life can function without Facebook, Instagram, and Threads, you may want to consider alternative social media like Bluesky.

Why is all of this a problem? Authors and writers are already compensated precious little for what we produce. Many of us never see royalties, and “advances” ahead of publishing are becoming more of a rarity all the time. This devaluation of our skill set, imagination, and creativity is something we already suffer, without the added attacks of piracy and plagiarism, and the indignity of being replaced by AI tools.

I came across a YouTube video above, by Del Stone, Jr., that captures perfectly my own sentiments. The view that intellectual property is not worthy of respect, but instead something to be “harvested” and used against creative people in the future is demoralizing AF, as the kids these days would say. What these corporations are doing is robbing people like me of the desire to continue creating content, and stimulating critical thinking by our readers.

You wonder why I rail against capitalism over on my Sense of Misplaced blog? Now you have some idea. I can no longer promise new posts here, or there. What is the point? Why should I continue to provide free fodder for AI machines? I’m open to persuasion, but for now I may stick to putting out a book every so often, and doing the odd article for the few editors I treasure. Thank you, and good luck.

Happy 2025?

I am not sure that I have ever had less enthusiasm for an incoming new year than I have for this one. It seems rather silly, though, that I don’t have more excitement and positive anticipation. I already have virtual and in-person presentations on the horizon (book me now!), plus a Coldplay concert to look forward to. I even have a new passport, so can leave the country if I want.

What is the future of Bug Eric blog? I am seriously entertaining the idea of moving it to either Substack or Patreon. I will need to take my writing more seriously, if so, posting with definite regularity to meet the expectations of paying subscribers. Would I even have subscribers?

While I would prefer not to charge my readership, I must increase my income. This is especially true now that Social Security and Medicare are under attack from the incoming presidential administration. I may not have the “entitled” income and health benefits that I was expecting at my advancing age. I also need to value my work in the economic sense.

As for other projects, I have ideas for at least three more major works. One of those is a fictional piece that seems to want to be a play or screenplay. I keep “seeing” it as being performed, anyway. I would like to collaborate with others, as the current storyboard looks like an exploding star. It is not even linear. Ha! If done right, it could win all the things, including hearts and minds, I think.

None of my future book ideas have anything to do with insects except, perhaps, tangentially. This represents a huge risk since I am the “bug guy” by reputation. I cannot, however, ignore the greater problems surrounding how human beings impact the natural world, and each other. That isn’t a calling as much as a demand for my perspectives and experiences to be shared.

From the aspect of my mental and social health, I am becoming progressively more isolated. There is hardly anyone in my small town that I have even remote interest in spending time with. There are too many people older than I am, politically conservative, religious, unhappy, unhealthy, or all of the above. When I do venture out of the house, it is for an exercise walk, to run an errand or two, or hike by myself in a nearby wooded park. That is it. I thrive on the company of younger people, and that seems impossible here.

Even social media has lost most of its appeal. I left Twitter/X in the end-of-the-year mass exodus, and opted for Bluesky, the popular new alternative. I have enjoyed it so far. Facebook is in decline, with its near total emphasis on commercialization, and a newly-announced commitment to more AI (Artificial Intelligence) content, including artificial users. Actual, human Meta users are aging, and there is simply not the energy there used to be. I may have to learn Tik Tok if I want to stay relevant, and if that China-based platform is not outlawed.

There is no way I can continue suffering a lack of in-person contact, though. I am not suicidal, but as one Bluesky account put it, some days “I can’t life anymore.” The bigger cities of Kansas City and Overland Park are so close, yet so far away, and not really affordable.

Please let me know if you would pay to read more regular posts on Patreon or Substack, and under what circumstances/incentives. If you have suffered social isolation, how have you overcome it?

Thank you, as always, for your loyalty in following me, donating to this Blogger blog, and otherwise lending your support….Now, if I can just turn myself into a cat, I could lounge all day long, and have thousands more followers on Bluesky. Goals!

About the Calendar Photo: This calendar was purchased from melbry//arts. Melissa Bryant does brilliant and important work. Please support her efforts. Thank you.

Wishful Blinking

Wishful Blinking

Alas, not a firefly,
But the lights of a car passing by.

Eric R. Eaton

Artistic License

Our bathroom, small as it is, has a moth and butterfly theme. It is my partner’s doing, with her selection of the shower curtain, and arrangement of the poster and pictures I brought to the party when we moved in together. It makes for colorful accents to the white tiles, countertop, and light gray paint job, done rather hastily by the last owner it would appear. What I find most fascinating are the flaws in the art, done with intention.

The shower curtain is a subdued, matte, silvery gray nylon, with eleven different moths, and one butterfly, printed repeatedly. The renderings are surprisingly accurate, representing actual, existing species. They are oriented in different directions and arranged such that the repeating pattern is disguised. You have to exit the room and stand a bit out in the short hallway to get the full picture.

The moths and butterfly on the curtain are to scale, as near as I can tell. All are perfect except for the Luna Moth, the largest one, which has prominent nicks and tears in its pale green wings with a streaming, creased and curled tail on each hind wing. This is a frequent condition of older, living Luna Moths, so it heightens the realism.

Opposite the sink, the mirror and rail of lights above it, and the commode, hangs a vertical, framed poster of colorful butterflies, with a few moths thrown in, on a pure white background. They are arranged in a radiating pattern, oriented north, northeast, or northwest. In contrast to the shower curtain, this is a photo, or photos, of real insects, preserved in the classic wings-open-at-ninety-degrees pose. They are not to scale, which suggests that the entire poster is a mosaic of individual photos.

Flanking the poster are smaller, framed pictures I cut from old magazines. They represent the paintings of the late John Cody, descendant of Buffalo Bill. He specialized in painting giant silkmoths, mostly tropical moths with broad wings, and sometimes long, flowing tails. The Luna Moth is one example of that group, collectively known as Saturniidae.

Giant silkmoths live short adult lives. Days, maybe a couple of weeks at most. They do not even feed, lacking the proboscis that most moths and butterflies possess, coiled beneath their chins when not in use to sip nectar. The silkmoths burn fat reserves they accrued in the caterpillar stage. Cody reared most of his moth models, from cocoons he imported. It was the only way to guarantee perfect specimens with pristine, vibrant colors.

Staring at the poster while on the throne one day, I noticed something I had been oblivious to previously: Every single specimen is missing its antennae. The abdomens were missing from the gaudy, metallic blue Morpho butterflies, but it is standard practice to remove that body part from specimens. As Morphos decompose, the oily fats in the abdomen ooze onto the wings, staining them and masking the famous metallic sheen that makes those butterflies so coveted by collectors. I have only seen intact Morphos as living individuals flying through indoor butterfly exhibits at zoos.

The antennae of butterflies poses no such problem in compromising the color of the specimen. Why remove them, then, from either the insect or the photo of it? Did the artist think the slender filaments were somehow too distracting, and in the interest of cosmetics needed pruning? There are not even tweezers in our medicine cabinet for eyebrow plucking.

I find it difficult to enjoy the poster now, with that bit of tragic information now indelibly etched in my mind. It seems a little faded, or dull, and imparts a tinge of sadness that the maker felt another creature needs to be “improved” by his hand. The title of the poster is “Flights of Fancy,” but the fancy seems tarnished now. I increasingly find myself studying Cody’s paintings instead, where all is well, and he has even put them in a more natural setting, on foliage with a black or colored background. Their wings droop, as they do in life, and the magnificent, feathery antennae are still there.