Facsimile
A facsimile (from Latin fac simile ('make alike'), a spelling that remained in currency until the late 19th century) is a copy or reproduction of an old book, manuscript, map, art print, or other item of historical value that is as true to the original source as possible. It differs from other forms of reproduction by attempting to replicate the source as accurately as possible in scale, color, condition, and other material qualities. For books and manuscripts, this also entails a complete copy of all pages; hence, an incomplete copy is a "partial facsimile". Facsimiles are sometimes used by scholars to research a source that they do not have access to otherwise, and by museums and archives for media preservation and conservation. Many are sold commercially, often accompanied by a volume of commentary. They may be produced in limited editions, typically of 500–2,000 copies, and cost the equivalent of a few thousand United States dollars.
Facsimiles in the age of mechanical reproduction
Podcasts:
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by Vigilantes Of Love
Facsimile
by: Vigilantes Of LoveYeah, they're closing down the line
It's almost quitting time
Plotting their next crime as the evening descends
It's amazing what you'll sell when you're not doing all
that well
The stories you'll tell to make you a friend
Yeah, you worry about your looks
And from the magazines and books, you get a chic little
hook
(If you've got the wealth)
It's amazing what you'll buy if you think last chance
went buy
You weave a new set of lines to cover yourself
'Cos love is just a plea at the deepest point of need
We take the reasonable facsimile most of the time
Ah, sure
You'll take the risk, but then scanty evidence can be
used against you at any old time
They'll read you your rights in the heat of the night
What you thought you held so tight slips right through
your hands
There's been a raging debate as of late and a storm of
controversy
As faith pins her corsage on Easter morning's new mercy
We know the terrain well, but You kicked down the gates
of hell
Prison cells open
Threw away the key
Yeah, dragging out of bed
Got a big noise all in your head
Living and the dead run in the clear light of day
It's amazing
What you sold always leaves you feeling old