The Entertainment industry just doesn't get it. This point -- albeit not a terribly original one -- was hammered home for me today yet once again.
I had decided to support the movie industry's entry into the digital sphere by plunking down $1.99 to rent an online copy of "Groundhog Day" via the service called "MovieLink." Unsurprisingly, the terms were obnoxiously restrictive:
- I could only view the movie on one computer... no copying it to my laptop for the road, etc. Of course, I don't have a laptop, so this is a moot point, but nonetheless...
- The movie would expire from my hard drive in 30 days.
- Once I hit the "play" button, the movie'd go poof within 24 hours.
Well, you know how the story goes. I downloaded the movie last month and, with the holiday craziness, I didn't quite get around to watching it 'til this weekend. Realizing that the 30-day point was [gulp] today, I sat my fanny in front of my computer and began to watch the movie.
With about 35 minute left to go, the movie stopped and the following notice popped up on my screen: "The movie 'Groundhog Day' has been deleted from your hard drive, freeing up 525 megabytes of disk space."
Gee, how thoughtful of this movie service to help free up hard drive space for me in that manner!
So what we have here is a movie industry so hell-bent on maintaining control over every aspect of its customer's viewing experience that it creates a sense of artificial scarcity and urgency -- convenience and value be damned.
A brick-and-mortar place like Blockbuster has, of course, real reasons to establish deadlines. Every day that I physically have possession of a DVD from them is a day that someone else is not able to view that DVD, which results in potentially lost revenues for Blockbuster.
However, I'm at a loss as to why an online service has to put, of all things, a deadline for viewing a particular movie. Why would MovieLink care whether I watched my downloaded movie in January or February... or even next year? Regardless of my viewing time, I'd be costing them still a total of one movie's worth of (downloading) bandwidth.
But this is par for the course with the entertainment industry. Rather than endeavoring to make the consumer's experience more flexible, convenient, and pleasurable, Hollywood seems determined to make movie watching a frustrating and often cumbersome experience.
Indeed, when it comes down to it, MovieLink really does offer a questionable "value":
- Mediocre sound and no full-screen video.
- VERY limited selection (<200 films, I think)
- Limited or no extras usually found on DVD's
And for this, they charge as much as $2.99 for somewhat-current films.
Unfortunately, I doubt things will get much better, at least not until they get much worse. The music and movie industries have very little incentive to do things right, especially since they have politicians largely bought and paid for (witness the Orwellian Digital Copyright Millenium Act that practically makes it illegal to even TALK about circumventing copy protection schemes).
Entertainment insiders like the charming Jack Valenti -- who once compared VCR's to the Boston Strangler -- insist that the sort of movies we know and love today will cease to be made unless the, ahem, stranglehold of the movie industry is maintained.
Perhaps he means that telegenic folks reading lines will no longer be able to make in one day what a teacher in the Bronx makes in a lifetime?
Maybe he's alluding to a future in which whiz-bang special effects in countless and brainless summer movies will prove to be cost-prohibitive?
Is it possible that -- horror of horrors -- Hollywood will actually have to scale back on its billion dollar legal retainers, sell a few politicians, and actually make movies with thoughtful plots based upon original stories?
Where do I sign?
Sunday, January 5, 2003
Wednesday, January 1, 2003
Construction... eeek!
Sorry for any confusion... messing with blog templates this (late) evening... check back tomorrow, please :-)
UPDATE at 6:57am: Now it *IS* tomorrow, and I think I have most everything taken care of. A little 'comments list' weirdness on some pages, but overall, I think everything is working decently.
HOWEVER, please do take just a sec to comment (either via this blog, or here) to let me know how stuff works for you! Thanks much! :-)
UPDATE at 6:57am: Now it *IS* tomorrow, and I think I have most everything taken care of. A little 'comments list' weirdness on some pages, but overall, I think everything is working decently.
HOWEVER, please do take just a sec to comment (either via this blog, or here) to let me know how stuff works for you! Thanks much! :-)
Parking, Europe-style
Gotta hand it to those direct Irish folk. There's certainly no ambiguity about THIS space.And speaking of parking: Every time I return to Europe, I'm still both amused by and fascinated with the European style of parking. Given the narrow streets throughout much of Europe, people park with one side of their car up on the sidewalks... and though usually the curbs aren't too stepp, I've nonetheless gotten used to a *JOLT* right before parking.
In France -- or at least in Paris when I visit one of my friends -- there's also the "touchy feely" form of parallel parking. This involves repeatedly hitting the bumper of the car in front of you and in back of you until you get your car in perfectly with just a millimeter or two of space on either side.
Luckily, given the very long lunches and other breaks the French seem to take, there's likely no sense of urgency for folks to maneuver out of their parking spots, so I'm assuming that trapped Frenchies -- spotting their closed-in cars -- barely blink, and simply have another drink or cigarette or both. C'est la vie!
A glimpse of Belief
This past Sunday, I visited a friend in Mainz, Germany, and in the freezing rainy cold, she kindly played the role of tour guide in her beautiful city.
One of the most memorable parts of the afternoon was when she took me to this amazingly grand cathedral in the city center.
Just in time for one of the Sunday services, I let the stunning organ music wash over me, and I felt in awe and very, very small.
I also felt at peace. Protected. To those that would choose to actually worship here and not just visit, I knew in my heart that there would be a sense of stability and reassurance.
In a tiny doubting corner of my mind, I questioned the allocation of resources used to build this palace of grandeur. But more than anything, I stood there in wonderment, looking up, looking all around me, drinking in the stateliness and painstaking artistry and dedication of my surroundings. The carvings, the color, the stones so cold and smooth to the touch.
If there was a God, this was one of two places in which he would be found... here, and by a waterfall and a rainbow.
Looking back now, that tiny corner of doubt in my mind has intensified. I think back to the audacity of it all, the blatant buying of closeness to the Lord through physical artifices. I reflect upon the great harm that the Church has perpetrated throughout history. Misogyny, murder, and more.
And yet I still wish I could Believe. For a few moments, standing within that great sanctuary, I was one with the powerful rumble of the organ, with the wafting voices of the minister and congregation, completely enveloped by the solid walls that had stood for nearly than three quarters of a millenium.
Something larger than myself. If only it could be something else.
One of the most memorable parts of the afternoon was when she took me to this amazingly grand cathedral in the city center.
Just in time for one of the Sunday services, I let the stunning organ music wash over me, and I felt in awe and very, very small.
I also felt at peace. Protected. To those that would choose to actually worship here and not just visit, I knew in my heart that there would be a sense of stability and reassurance.
In a tiny doubting corner of my mind, I questioned the allocation of resources used to build this palace of grandeur. But more than anything, I stood there in wonderment, looking up, looking all around me, drinking in the stateliness and painstaking artistry and dedication of my surroundings. The carvings, the color, the stones so cold and smooth to the touch.
If there was a God, this was one of two places in which he would be found... here, and by a waterfall and a rainbow.
Looking back now, that tiny corner of doubt in my mind has intensified. I think back to the audacity of it all, the blatant buying of closeness to the Lord through physical artifices. I reflect upon the great harm that the Church has perpetrated throughout history. Misogyny, murder, and more.
And yet I still wish I could Believe. For a few moments, standing within that great sanctuary, I was one with the powerful rumble of the organ, with the wafting voices of the minister and congregation, completely enveloped by the solid walls that had stood for nearly than three quarters of a millenium.
Something larger than myself. If only it could be something else.
I want to Believe.
I have a lack of belief and heros in my life.
I am agnostic, refusing to pledge allegiance to a God who is alternately merciful and cruel, or at best, indifferent.
I do not worship celebrities of any sort, for I cannot fathom how throwing a ball or saying scripted lines makes someone worthy of my high respect.
Politicians, too, fail to inspire me. As is commonly noted, those who are least worthy of leading often take (or, in some cases, steal) the scepter. The fact that a recent poll has identified George Bush as the most admired American merely shows that others have sadly mistaken Power for Heroism.
I believe in myself, and I believe in friends that inspire me. I know them, I trust them, I believe in what they do and who they are. Through little things and big things... it is both my friends' goodness and intent that inspires, because I can see, know, and feel this in my heart.
Nonetheless, since I was little, I've craved for the Beliefs and Heroes I could neither justify nor connect with. While millions of others around me enjoyed happiness and strength from those they admired from afar, I had contrastingly only puzzlement and sometimes disdain.
How could one so admire a person who took more than they contributed? Someone showered with adulation and 'respect' and paid millions not due to their innate goodness or meaningful contributions to society, but rather for merely their empty words and movements and glances?
Years ago, as the Internet swelled, I optimistically assumed that great art, kind souls, and Truth would cut through the stale offerings of mass media and publishers and make itself known and loved throughout the world.
I was, clearly, naive and wrong. After 400 years in Internet time, Britney Spears and her clones still reign supreme. While true gems are there to appreciate on the Internet, they are for the most part still buried, unappreciated, often undiscovered.
And so today, even via the Internet, we still have fabricated and false Heroes rather than examples of people from whom we can universally and deeply admire. Where is Gandhi? Where is Florence Nightingale?
I want to believe in someone real. I know they're out there, and I hear of the random heroic Jane Doe and John Smith every so often. This one started an organization for at-risk kids, this one donated a thousand books a year to a small library, and so on.
But I greedily want something more... someone innately good AND larger than life. A Hero, someone to worship and adore in conjunction with others. After all, there's a strange but real safety and comfort being in sync with others' beliefs... worshipping the same hero or Hero, nodding in silent understanding, not finding a more lonely path.
This, I'm sure, is why so many people believe in God.
If only I could. It would be so much easier, so comforting.
I want to Believe. But at the moment, I cannot.
I hope 2003 will be different.
I am agnostic, refusing to pledge allegiance to a God who is alternately merciful and cruel, or at best, indifferent.
I do not worship celebrities of any sort, for I cannot fathom how throwing a ball or saying scripted lines makes someone worthy of my high respect.
Politicians, too, fail to inspire me. As is commonly noted, those who are least worthy of leading often take (or, in some cases, steal) the scepter. The fact that a recent poll has identified George Bush as the most admired American merely shows that others have sadly mistaken Power for Heroism.
I believe in myself, and I believe in friends that inspire me. I know them, I trust them, I believe in what they do and who they are. Through little things and big things... it is both my friends' goodness and intent that inspires, because I can see, know, and feel this in my heart.
Nonetheless, since I was little, I've craved for the Beliefs and Heroes I could neither justify nor connect with. While millions of others around me enjoyed happiness and strength from those they admired from afar, I had contrastingly only puzzlement and sometimes disdain.
How could one so admire a person who took more than they contributed? Someone showered with adulation and 'respect' and paid millions not due to their innate goodness or meaningful contributions to society, but rather for merely their empty words and movements and glances?
Years ago, as the Internet swelled, I optimistically assumed that great art, kind souls, and Truth would cut through the stale offerings of mass media and publishers and make itself known and loved throughout the world.
I was, clearly, naive and wrong. After 400 years in Internet time, Britney Spears and her clones still reign supreme. While true gems are there to appreciate on the Internet, they are for the most part still buried, unappreciated, often undiscovered.
And so today, even via the Internet, we still have fabricated and false Heroes rather than examples of people from whom we can universally and deeply admire. Where is Gandhi? Where is Florence Nightingale?
I want to believe in someone real. I know they're out there, and I hear of the random heroic Jane Doe and John Smith every so often. This one started an organization for at-risk kids, this one donated a thousand books a year to a small library, and so on.
But I greedily want something more... someone innately good AND larger than life. A Hero, someone to worship and adore in conjunction with others. After all, there's a strange but real safety and comfort being in sync with others' beliefs... worshipping the same hero or Hero, nodding in silent understanding, not finding a more lonely path.
This, I'm sure, is why so many people believe in God.
If only I could. It would be so much easier, so comforting.
I want to Believe. But at the moment, I cannot.
I hope 2003 will be different.
How I spent New Year's Day
Last night, I ate lots and lots of alcohol-filled chocolates, yet I wasn't tired enough to go to bed until about 5am.
Imagine my surprise, then, when after a vivid dream I woke up and saw "7:07" on my alarm clock. Ack! It was still dark and I had apparently gotten just over two hours of sleep, yet I wasn't tired... and now I had to use the bathroom.
After grumbling in bed for a short while, I gruntily trudged out of my room, managed my business, and then noticed my roommate laying lazily in bed, with her door dumbly open.
"Do we have any pancake mix left?" she queried. Wow, it was not even 8:00, and she was already thinking about making breakfast on her day off. Strange.
Not content to simply flop directly back into bed, I decided to check my e-mail for a moment.
WHOA! My screen was littered with instant messages, and my mailbox was full! How could this be? After all, it was only 7:28........PM?!?!?!?!?
Imagine my surprise, then, when after a vivid dream I woke up and saw "7:07" on my alarm clock. Ack! It was still dark and I had apparently gotten just over two hours of sleep, yet I wasn't tired... and now I had to use the bathroom.
After grumbling in bed for a short while, I gruntily trudged out of my room, managed my business, and then noticed my roommate laying lazily in bed, with her door dumbly open.
"Do we have any pancake mix left?" she queried. Wow, it was not even 8:00, and she was already thinking about making breakfast on her day off. Strange.
Not content to simply flop directly back into bed, I decided to check my e-mail for a moment.
WHOA! My screen was littered with instant messages, and my mailbox was full! How could this be? After all, it was only 7:28........PM?!?!?!?!?
Truth or Consequences
I just discovered that there is a city called "Truth or Consequences" in New Mexico. Really.
How would someone come up with a name like this?!
How would someone come up with a name like this?!
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