I've reached the point in my data collection/mental capacities that I'm never 100% sure if the things I think of are original or something I saw in the past and had forgotten. My memory is not a nicely-catalogued library with carefully-arranged stacks and a stern spinster at the front desk. It's a rotting dump where things quickly decompose and loose their shapes. I'm a little suspicious of the above cartoon for that reason. It came a little too easily to mind, as if it were already there waiting for someone to brush off the debris and display it in its completitude. We are bombarded with so much information these days it's like radiation poisoning--and it makes the issues of plagiarism and intellectual property much less clearcut than they used to be. There was an article in the New Yorker a couple of years ago claiming that the whole notion of ownership of ideas, and subsequent lawsuits, served only to cripple creativity and discourse. I think they had a point. How many ideas are so pure of pedigree that you could claim them as solely your own?