BBC Presents An Open News Archive

Cus writes "The BBC have opened a section of their news archive under a Creative Archive license. Nearly 80 items covering the last 50 years are available, with the full list available on their site. Paul Gerhardt the project director of the Creative Archive License Group, from the official announcement: 'The BBC's telling of those stories is part of our heritage, and now that the UK public have the chance to share and keep them we're keen to know how they will be used.'"

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Re:What about the rest of us

[elyobelyob]

Look, I'll have a word with Auntie for our American cousins if they all promise to watch the 1966 World Cup video, say "Ruddy good show old boys" and sing the National Anthem proudly (knowing every word .. including the sixth verse).

They then have to sit through the Queen's speech every Christmas Day, just after they've eaten a huge meal, cannot move and cannot find the remote.

Re:Wha...?

[LordSnooty]

Ah, I love being a Brit. Look at the first paragraph of the charter. "TO ALL TO WHOM THESE PRESENTS SHALL COME, GREETING!" That's actually part of an official government document! Ah, you USians would kill for a history which can begat such quaint traditions.

Damn! Those Brits have beaten us again.

[craXORjack]

While Uncle Sam schemes to wring the last few cents out of fifty year old news clips and commentaries, John Bull just starts giving it away thus ensuring that History will a british spin on it for the next thousand years. What's next? I suppose the French will start giving their music away so that the rhythmic ditties of our lovely Britney will be relegated to the forgotten dustheap of the late 20th century? I can't think of anything worse unless someone like the Swedes did away with copyright entirely. Then our grandchildren could grow up thinking Ingmar Bergman was the greatest filmmaker of our day instead of Quentin Tarentino. How could I live in a world where european artsy-fartsy movies become the basis of third millenia culture while Kill Bill 2 rots a slow celluloid death in a forgotten warehouse in post-apocalyptic Los Angeles? Oh woe. Woe is me.