indessed roscivs

I once knew a kid named David who thought it unfair that there were so many Davids in the world, but no Nightvids, and so wanted to change his name. His parents, for whatever reason, went along with the idea and he legally changed his name to “Nightvid”. As far as I know, he’s the only one.

This post is not about him.

It’s about one of the many Davids in the world—one of the stranger ones: David Bowie. Apparently, we’re all supposed to write about David Bowie this Halloween, and since it’s Halloween, I’m writing about David Bowie.

I don’t have much to write about Bowie; my major exposure to him was through the Jim Henson movie Labyrinth. I’ve listened to a few of his songs here and there, but although he’s generally considered widely influential in the music biz, only one or two of his (non-Labyrinth) pieces have ever really stood out for me.

But I will say this about Bowie: when I was reading about The Prestige on IMDB and discovered that David Bowie played Nikola Tesla, I didn’t believe it. I watched the entire movie, in the theater, and never once suspected it was Bowie. Even upon learning that it was him, I refused to believe it until I saw photos of him side-by-side with screenshots from The Prestige. The man has an image, but he never hesitates to reinvent himself with a new one.

Happy Halloween, David Bowie!

A fellow blogger recently asked this question:

I own [Celtic Woman’s DVDs] and I love the music. I also own the CD soundtrack from the first DVD. However, the music on the soundtrack CD is slightly different than the DVD, and it’s in a different order. So I rip the music OFF of the DVD onto my mp3 player and to make my own CD. I’ve done the same with Xanadu—the soundtrack music is so different than the music in the movie, and I want to listen to the movie.

Is that wrong or illegal?

And if you “know” one way or the other, is it just something you feel should be right, or do you actually know the law? Could I technically get busted for making my own copies of my own DVD’s, even though it’s in a different format?

Here is my best attempt at answering this tricky, tangled question.

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The “Audio Home Recording Act”, passed in 1992, contains this passage: “No action may be brought under this title alleging infringement of copyright based on the manufacture, importation, or distribution of a digital audio recording device, a digital audio recording medium, an analog recording device, or an analog recording medium, or based on the noncommercial use by a consumer of such a device or medium for making digital musical recordings or analog musical recordings.”^[1]

Basically, this means that if you’re making copies for a family member, or copies for use in a car, even though it’s still technically copyright infringement, the copyright holder can’t sue you or do anything about it.

Furthermore, the “fair use” doctrine under US copyright law states something similar:

Notwithstanding the provisions of sections 106 and 106A, the fair use of a copyrighted work, including such use by reproduction in copies or phonorecords or by any other means specified by that section, for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching (including multiple copies for classroom use), scholarship, or research, is not an infringement of copyright. In determining whether the use made of a work in any particular case is a fair use the factors to be considered shall include—
1. the purpose and character of the use, including whether such use is of a commercial nature or is for nonprofit educational purposes;
2. the nature of the copyrighted work;
3. the amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole; and
4. the effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work.^[2]

There have been some court cases that imply that format-shifting (making MP3s of a CD you own, or making a CD of a DVD you own [as you’re doing], or making a DVD of a VHS tape you own, etc.) is legal under these “fair use” provisions of copyright law.^[3]

That said, DVDs are in a murky area because of two things: encryption and the DMCA. DVDs are digitally encrypted, meaning that it’s impossible to copy them without “cracking” their code. Furthermore, the “Digital Millennium Copyright Act”, or DMCA, passed in 1998, “criminalizes the act of circumventing [encryption], even when there is no infringement of copyright itself”.^[4] This means that, even though you might be fully within fair use rights to make copies of your DVD, or format-shift into MP3s or a CD, the DMCA makes breaking the DVD’s encryption (which you must do in order to format-shift) illegal. This is hugely controversial, and the DMCA is widely regarded on the Internet as a bad law. Regardless, it is the law.

All that said, if this is all for personal use, you have exactly zero chance of ever being sued. There have been absolutely no court cases (as far as I am aware) that involved solely personal-use copyright infringement. All cases either involve widespread distribution (such as peer-to-peer filesharing) or some sort of commercial benefit. You basically have nothing to worry about from a legal standpoint, despite the technical illegality under the DMCA (due to DVD encryption).

The moral issue is a completely different kettle of fish. Let’s just say I personally believe that format-shifting is, and always will be (regardless of circumstance or legality) completely morally acceptable, and leave it at that.

Hope that helps!

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1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audio_Home_Recording_Act
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fair_use
3. http://www.eff.org/IP/eff_fair_use_faq.php, section 4.
4 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DMCA

Frames Per Second

Today’s article is short—it’s more just background for tomorrow’s discussion of interlacing.

The basic idea is that moving pictures are made up of a lot of single, static pictures shown rapidly in succession, giving the illusion of motion. Each single image is typically called a “frame”, thus the number of images displayed in a single second is referred to as “Frames Per Second”. Movies are typically 24 frames per second, whereas standard TV (NTSC) is “29.97″, or 30 frames for every 1.001 seconds (the .001 being due to a nasty hack to implement color).

If your TV is set up for 30 frames per second, and the signal coming in is 30 frames per second, then you have no problem—the TV displays every frame. But if your TV is set up for 24 frames per second, and the signal coming in is 30—or vice versa—then you have to resort to some trickery to get the two to work properly.

For example, converting from film (24 fps) to NTSC (30 fps) requires playing some of the frames in the original extra times, sometimes resulting in jittery motion during steady camera pans. But usually interlacing is involved, too, which leads us to tomorrow’s discussion …

Today’s installment is about a more straightforward subject: resolution.

Resolution

“Resolution” refers to how many pixels an image has. For example, take a look at this fish, courtesy Wikipedia:

The fish on the left is made up of 1,840 little squares (”pixels”). The fish on the right has only 460 squares. As a result, the fish on the left looks better—the curves look less “jaggy”, and you can see more detail (such as the slight “mouth” shape that isn’t present on the fish on the right).

Note that the resolution (or number of squares) doesn’t directly affect the size of the image. The fish on the right has the same resolution (460 squares, 23 wide and 20 tall) no matter how big each pixel is. If each square is one inch, then you’ll have a large picture—23 inches wide and 20 inches tall. Alternatively, if each square is 1/100th of an inch (most computer monitors have pixels around this size), then the fish will be about a fifth of an inch tall—very tiny. But in both cases, the resolution is exactly the same.

The difference is that, with a 20-inch fish, you can very easily see the blocks that make up the picture—they’re one inch square, after all! With a fifth-inch fish, you won’t be able to see the individual pixels unless you look very closely. If you were sitting a few feet away, you probably wouldn’t see much of a difference between a 1,840-square fifth-inch fish and a 450-square fifth-inch fish. But you’d still see a big difference between the two resolutions with a 20-inch fish, even at a few feet away.

So how does this translate into video terms? Digital video is made up of pixels, just like the fishies—although video uses a lot more pixels. “Regular” television is approximately 640×480 pixels (about 300,000 “little squares”). I say “approximately” because normal television typically is not digital, so it looks a lot worse. For things like analog cable or VHS tapes, it’s more equivalent to half that—320×240 pixels. 640×480 is closer to the resolution of digital cable and DVDs.

Remember yesterday’s discussion about aspect ratio? Notice that 640×480 is 1.33:1, the “square” format of older TVs. But movies are typically “widescreen”, typically with an aspect ratio of 2.35:1 or 1.85:1. So cable and broadcast television are moving increasingly towards the 16:9 ratio, and producing video in one of three popular resolutions: 852×480, 1,280×720, and 1,920×1,080—each exactly 16:9. These three resolutions are given other names, such as 480p or “enhanced definition” (EDTV) for the first, 720p or “high definition” (HDTV) for the second, and 1080p for the third (also commonly just referred to as “HDTV”). The name is in essence just the number of pixels tall, with a “p” added on (referring to “progressive scan,” which we’ll talk more about when we get to interlacing).

But itself, the resolution of the video is relatively uninteresting. The more important part is the resolution of the television or projector you’re considering. If you get a widescreen TV, it will be either 852×480, 1280×720, or 1920×1,080. How important the resolution is depends on (a) the resolution of the incoming video, and (b) the size of your screen. The resolution of the incoming video is important because if all you’ll ever watch on it is DVDs and analog cable, there’s no point in getting something with more than 480p (EDTV) resolution. The size of your screen is important because if you’re getting a 27″-diagonal screen, you probably won’t be able to see much of a difference between 720p and 1080p (just like you won’t see much of a difference between the two fifth-inch fishies). If your screen is more like 100″ diagonal, you’ll likely be able to see more of a difference.

To sum up, more pixels = better, but depending on your video inputs (e.g. DVDs and analog cable vs. HD-DVDs and digital HD cable) it might not make a difference. Your screen size matters too–watching a 320×240 picture on my 4″ Palm Pilot screen is an enjoyable experience. Watching the same picture on my 120″+ projector screen is not.

Next week, we’ll continue the series with an article about frame rates.

From SDTV to HDTV, from 480p to 1080i, millions are asking—what does it all mean? Here’s my attempt at a simple guide to help people through the confusing mish-mash of numbers and letters.

There are four basic parts to understanding different television formats: aspect ratio, resolution, frames-per-second, and interlacing. Let’s take a look at each of these different areas in turn.

Aspect Ratio

Different video formats have different aspect ratios—or, in other words, they differ in how wide the picture is compared to how tall it is. A perfect square has an aspect ratio of 1:1—the square is exactly as wide as it is tall. A rectangle that is exactly twice as wide as it is tall has an aspect ratio of 2:1.

Note that there’s nothing inherent to an aspect ratio that determines how good a picture looks—it just determines how square or rectangular a picture is. For example, you might have a 6″x4.5″ photo and a 40″x30″ poster—both have exactly the same aspect ratio (1.33:1, or more commonly 4:3), but obviously there are other important differences.

The time when it does make an important difference is when you’re viewing content that was originally a different aspect ratio. You can imagine taking your 6″x4.5″ photograph and putting it in a picture frame:

If your picture frame is also 4″x6.5″, then you have no problem. But if your picture frame was designed for a much wider 4″x8″ photograph (2:1), then you’ll have a little bit of empty space on either side of your picture. On the other hand, if your picture frame was designed for a square 6.5″x6.5″ photograph (1:1), then you’ll have a little bit of empty space on the top and bottom of your picture. Either way isn’t going to look very nice.

We have the same problem with different video formats. Movies are often shot in 2.35:1 or 1.85:1, a very rectangular or “wide screen” format. Standard television for the past few decades has been 1.33:1, which is nearly square-like. So when watching movies on television, you’d have empty space on the top and bottom of your picture (the infamous “black bars” or “letterboxing”), just like a photograph in a frame that doesn’t quite fit.

All different types of HDTV are standardized on 1.77:1 (or more commonly “16:9″), which is right in the middle. That means that watching movies on a 16:9 screen will result in a slight gap above and below the picture, but not much. And watching standard television on a 16:9 screen will result in a gap to the left and the right of the picture.

There are also other methods of getting mismatched aspect ratios to fit for people who dislike that empty space. These methods are usually considered bad, because they either distort the picture in some way or they crop out some of the picture. For example, “Stretch” mode, which is the default on many 16:9 TVs, will make people look short and fat if the original is 1.33:1, or tall and skinny if the original is 2.35:1. “Pan & Scan”, which cuts off the sides of 2.35:1, used to be popular in VHS releases of movies. And many widescreen TVs have a “Zoom” feature, which cuts off the top and bottom of 1.33:1.

I’d recommend just sticking with the black bars. That way you’re seeing 100% of the undistorted original.

Tomorrow, I’ll talk about resolution, and the role that plays in different video formats.

In a recent book called the Blank Slate, Steven Pinker writes about how what society considers moral and immoral can change quite easily over the years—”moral emotions … can be turned on and off like a switch. These mental spoinks are called moralization and amoralization …They consist in flipping between a mindset that judges behavior in terms of preference with a mindset that judges behavior in terms of value.”

Certainly a lot of recent changes have been about things becoming morally acceptable. Pinker lists, for example, some things that have become talked about in terms of “lifestyle choices” rather than moral sins:

divorce, illegitimacy, working motherhood, marijuana use, homosexuality, masturbation, sodomy, oral sex, atheism … Similarly, many afflictions have been reassigned from the wages of sin to the vagaries of bad luck and have been redubbed accordingly. The homeless used to be called bums and tramps; sexually transmitted diseases were formerly known as venereal diseases. Most of the professionals who work with drug addiction insist that it is not a bad choice but a kind of illness.

But that’s not the entirety of the story. It’s not just a matter of society becoming more “permissive” or amoralizing all behaviors. Pinker continues,

for all the behaviors that have been amoralized in recent decades, we are in the midst of a campaign to moralize new ones. The Babbitts and the bluenoses have been replaced by the activists for a nanny state and the college towns with a foreign policy, but the psychology of moralization is the same. Here are some examples of things that have acquired a moral coloring only recently: advertising to children, automobile safety, Barbie dolls, “big box” chain stores, cheesecake photos, clothing from Third World factories, consumer product safety, corporate-owned farms, defense-funded research, disposable diapers, disposable packaging, ethnic jokes, excessive salaries, fast food, flirtation in the workplace, food additives, fur, hydroelectric dams, IQ tests, logging, mining, nuclear power, oil drilling, owning certain stocks, poultry farms, public holidays (Columbus Day, Martin Luther Kind Day), research on AIDS, research on breast cancer, spanking, suburbia (”sprawl”), sugar, tax cuts, toy guns, violence on television, weight of fashion models

I saw on the elevator news the other day a perfect example of the results from one of the recent actions to be moralized: smoking. Pinker writes,

For many years the decision of whether to smoke was treated as a matter of preference or prudence; some people simply didn’t enjoy smoking or avoided it because it was hazardous to their health. But with the discovery of the harmful effects of second-hand smoke, smoking is now treated as an immoral act. Smokers are banished and demonized, and the psychology of disgust and contamination is brought into play. Nonsmokers avoid not just smoke but anything that has ever been in contact with smoke; in hotels, they demand smoke-free rooms or even smoke-free floors. Similarly, the desire for retribution has been awakened; juries have slapped tobacco companies with staggering financial penalties, appropriately called “punative damages.” This is not to say that these decisions are unjustified, only that we should be aware of the emotions that may be driving them.

The tiny tv screen in the elevator revealed to me that the MPAA will take smoking into account when determining movie ratings. In other words, if a movie is on the borderline between PG-13 and R, the presence of smoking that doesn’t “reflect the dangers of the habit or portray a historical figure” may tip the scales to R.

Like Pinker, I don’t think these decisions are necessarily unjustified, but at the same time, I wonder along with Pinker:

The question is whether they are best handled by the psychology of moralization (with its search for villians, elevation of accusers, and mobilization of authority to mete out punishment) or in terms of costs and benefits, prudence and risk, or good and bad taste. Pollution, for example, is often treated as a crime of defiling the sacred, as in the song by the rock group Traffic: “Why don’t we … try to save this land, and make a promise not to hurt again this holy ground.” This can be contrasted with the attitude of economists like Robert Frank, who (alluding to the costs of cleanups) said, “There is an optimal amount of pollution in the environment, just as there is an optimal amount of dirt in your house.”

Is the psychology of moralization the best choice in this case? Whether or not it is, I think this recent MPAA decision certainly shows that it is the choice we as a society have made.

Slashdot has a great article today about HBO’s CTO who thinks that the real reason people don’t like DRM (Digital Rights Management) is because of the name. Remember, DRM is the thing that makes it so that you can’t watch a DVD you bought in Europe here in the US. It’s the thing that makes music you download from iTunes Music Store not work on most mp3 players. It’s the thing that makes some music CDs not work in your car’s CD player. Basically, controls what you can do with content you’ve purchased, typically restricting your “fair use” rights under copyright law.

CTO Bob Zitter instead wants to use the phrase:

Digital Consumer Enablement, [which] would more accurately describe technology that allows consumers “to use content in ways they haven’t before,” such as enjoying TV shows and movies on portable video players like iPods. “I don’t want to use the term DRM any longer,” said Zitter

Of course, those of us who obtain non-DRM content can already enjoy TV shows and movies on portable players like iPods or Palm Pilots. DRM is what stands in the way of easy media transportation, not what enables it. This sort of bizarre language-changing is best seen by this Slashdot response (paraphrased):

I’m not going to call it piracy anymore. I prefer Personal Choice Enablement. PCE allows consumers (not customers, since you won’t be paying for the service) to enjoy content not only in ways they haven’t before, such as on portable video players like the iAudio A2, but at a more reasonable price than they have been offered in the past. This is also a win-win situation for the content creators as it alleviates all packaging and most distribution costs, as well as providing excellent word-of-mouth advertising for FREE!

Brilliant. Please, enjoy your new Personal Choice Enablement.

I read an article the other day about how people are scandalized to learn that actors in movies have been digitally altered in post-production.

In the “before” shot Jennifer Connolly [sic], the leading lady, was shown talking on her mobile phone. The digitally manipulated “after” shot showed her talking on her mobile phone with a tear rolling down her cheek. Such alterations are becoming increasingly common, but practitioners are discouraged from discussing this work.

“Acting is all about honesty, but something like this makes what you see on screen a dishonest moment,” said a leading technician. “Everyone feels a bit dirty about it.”

In my opinion, this is completely ridiculous. “Acting is all about honesty”?! Nonsense. Acting, and the theater, is all about telling a story. If Jennifer Connelly had been faking a tear, or had added a drop of water to her cheek, would that be any more “honest” than a bit of digital manipulation?

I can understand the outrage over digital manipulation in magazines or advertisements, where an airbrush or lighting tricks can paint a misleading picture of a skin cream or a shampoo. But movies are supposed to be about make-believe. They’re supposed to be about suspense of disbelief. I know that Christopher Reeve can’t really fly, that it’s all cinematic tricks. I know that the protagonist’s wife’s tragic death is a portrayal of the story, that the actress is really alive and healthy and the actor isn’t really married to her at all, and probably has no emotional connection with her whatsoever. But I suspend my disbelief in order to enjoy the story that the writer and director have engineered. The actors are mere puppets in the tale.

And I can certainly see how the actors would be more than a bit miffed at this. I can imagine those who could paint realistic pictures were miffed at the invention of the photograph. Nobody enjoys being made obsolete. But just as theater made the certain set of skills required for the stage obsolete, the ability to digitally alter video footage to an unprecedented degree may make the set of skills possessed by the current Hollywood status quo obsolete. So I don’t blame “actors such as Tom Cruise [who] have begun to write clauses into their contracts granting them full control of their own digital assets”. But in the end, it’s a losing battle. The kind of digital manipulation people find scandalous today will be commonplace ten years from now.

This may have serious ramifications on the traditional role we give celebrities. If a film is particularly moving or a performance compelling, we tend to honor the actor for their role. What if the actor becomes simply a model for their CGI character, with their actions and voice digitally created and/or enhanced? Who gets the credit for an amazing film or a lifelike portrayal of a character? What will happen to the Oscars? It will certainly be a different world!

Some don’t have “moral” issues with such retouching, but still “think that it makes it tough to consider films and photographs that have been doctored genuine art forms anymore.”[1] I think this is a bit ridiculous, too. As I’ve said before, art is not art because it is rare, or because it is difficult to create, or even because it is “honest”. Art is art because it touches our mind in a particular way which we enjoy. If a retouched film or photograph is inferior artistically to an “authentic” one, it is because of failures in the process, not because of something intrinisic to the process itself.

I hate watching movies with an abundance of CGI effects, but that is because they are instantly recognizable as CGI effects, and inferior aesthetically. The reason I preferred the look of Star Wars III-VI over I-III doesn’t have anything inherently to do with CGI—if the prequels had managed to digitally convey the same environment as the originals, I would have been just as happy. The problem was that they looked much more fake and contrived, from the digitally-inserted Jabba to the robot battle scenes on Naboo. It was aesthetics that made it inferior, not the fact that it happened to be fake. The original Jabba was fake too (a Jim Henson puppet), but he looked real.

Actors will have to get used to the fact that their role may be changing. Audiences should already be aware that everything presented to them for consumption is heavily altered, be it with camera lenses, trick angles, splicing together multiple shots, or digital trickery. Adding a digital teardrop isn’t some new and scandalous travesty—it’s the same fakery that Hollywood has used for decades, only now in a computerized form. That’s not going to change, but hopefully our awareness of it will.

Recently, Steve Jobs wrote an Open Letter on Music and DRM. The gist of his letter was that DRM doesn’t work, and that the music companies should abandon it and let Apple and other companies sell music that will work on any mp3 player, not just iPods. The CEO of Macrovision, a company dedicated to providing DRM, recently wrote this response. Here’s my take on Amoroso’s letter.

We have been involved with and have supported both prevention technologies and DRM that are on literally billions of copies of music, movies, games, software and other content forms, as well as hundreds of millions of devices across the world.

Never once has any of Macrovision’s products managed to keep digital content from appearing without DRM on the Internet. The fact of the matter is that DRM simply doesn’t work. It depends on a fundamentally broken pattern of giving the user the cryptographic keys required to unlock the content you’re trying to prevent them from unlocking. As Steve Jobs puts it, “one must still “hide” the keys which unlock the music on the user’s computer or portable music player.”

the fact is that DRM also has a broad impact across many different forms of content and across many media devices. Therefore, the discussion should not be limited to just music. It is critical that as all forms of content move from physical to electronic there is an opportunity for DRM to be an important enabler across all content, including movies, games and software, as well as music.

Translation: if the music industry abandons DRM and discovers that life without it is great, then other industries may abandon DRM too, making our entire business model obsolete.

DRM increases not decreases consumer value –
I believe that most piracy occurs because the technology available today has not yet been widely deployed to make DRM-protected legitimate content as easily accessible and convenient as unprotected illegitimate content is to consumers. The solution is to accelerate the deployment of convenient DRM-protected distribution channels—not to abandon them. Without a reasonable, consistent and transparent DRM we will only delay consumers in receiving premium content in the home, in the way they want it. For example, DRM is uniquely suitable for metering usage rights, so that consumers who don’t want to own content, such as a movie, can “rent” it.

This is pure nonsense, mixed in with a little bit of fact. I’ll accept the idea that DRM is a useful way of “renting” content. But it does not follow that movies or music that you buy should be DRM-encumbered. It does absolutely nothing to prevent Internet piracy, but does a lot to prevent legitimate uses of the content that are protected by Fair Use provisions in copyright law.

Similarly, consumers who want to consume content on only a single device can pay less than those who want to use it across all of their entertainment areas – vacation homes, cars, different devices and remotely. Abandoning DRM now will unnecessarily doom all consumers to a “one size fits all” situation that will increase costs for many of them.

Translation: abandoning DRM will remove our ability to charge people multiple times for music and movies that they’ve already payed for.

Copyright law (and common sense) already dictates that once a person has purchased a copy of a song, or a movie, or a book, they are free to “format-shift” and use that same copy “across all entertainment areas”. They legally don’t have to purchase it multiple times. So the “one size fits all” situation is mandated by law, and will decrease costs for most people.

DRM will increase electronic distribution –
Well maintained and reasonably implemented DRM will increase the electronic distribution of content, not decrease it. In this sense, DRM is an important ingredient in the overall success of the emerging digital world and especially cannot be overlooked for content creators and owners in the video industry. Quite simply, if the owners of high-value video entertainment are asked to enter, or stay in a digital world that is free of DRM, without protection for their content, then there will be no reason for them to enter, or to stay if they’ve already entered. The risk will be too great.

Bollocks. Given the choice between making some money without DRM, and making no money by not publishing at all, “owners of high-value video entertainment” will inevitably choose the former. But given the opportunity to use DRM to remove Fair Use provisions and charge people multiple times for the same content, content owners will frequently choose the latter, no matter what it costs the legitimate user. This is no surprise. But to paint DRM as a win for the “consumer” is simply dishonest.

DRM needs to be interoperable and open –
I agree with you that there are difficult challenges associated with maintaining the controls of an interoperable DRM system, but it should not stop the industry from pursuing it as a goal. Truly interoperable DRM will hasten the shift to the electronic distribution of content and make it easier for consumers to manage and share content in the home – and it will enable it in an open environment where their content is portable across a number of devices, not held hostage to just one company’s products.

Translation: we don’t want DRM to be controlled by other companies. However, we would be more than happy if this “truly interoperable DRM” were completely owned and patented by Macrovision.

The fact of the matter is that DRM cannot be “open”. The secrets must be kept secret, which is a nigh-impossible task even if a single company controls all the secrets (simply because the secrets must also be on the users’ devices). “Interoperable DRM” is a contradiction in terms.

At Macrovision we are willing to lead this industry effort. We offer to assist Apple in the issues and problems with DRM that you state in your letter. Should you desire, we would also assume responsibility for FairPlay as a part of our evolving DRM offering and enable it to interoperate across other DRMs, thus increasing consumer choice and driving commonality across devices.

This is ridiculous. “Assuming responsibility for FairPlay” means nothing to Apple when FairPlay is inevitably cracked as a result of Macrovision taking control. Apple loses its bargaining chip with the record companies, the record companies lose their one DRM stack (Apple, iTunes Music Store, iPod) that actually works relatively well, and the only winners in this game are Macrovision.

With such an enjoyable and revolutionary experience within our grasp, we should not minimize the role that DRM can and should play in enabling the transition to electronic content distribution. Without reasonable, consistent and transparent DRM we will only delay the availability of premium content in the home. As an industry, we should not let that happen.

Reasonable, consistent, and transparent DRM is an impossible pipe dream. Telling content producers and content owners to wait to license their content until this pipe dream is available will only delay the availability of premium content in the home. We, as an industry, and as the people who support that industry, should not let that happen.

The other day I watched Dr. Zhivago for the first time (the day after watching “V for Vendetta”—thus the second revolution movie in two days.) And now I have that cheesy merry-go-round music permanently stuck in my head, and every time it plays, it’s accompanied by visions of daffodil fields forever.

It’s fascinating to think that, for someone who grew up in that era, that tune is a powerful romantic melody, and whenever they hear its strains at some carnival or the like, they think back to the haunting motifs of the classic movie. Whereas I, who heard the melodic phrase thousands of times in hundreds of cliche locations, had no such mental connections. The first time the passage played in Dr. Zhivago, I thought to myself, “What on earth is this cheesy music doing in such a serious movie!?” And at every poignant, heart-wrenching scene when that balalaika orchestra would begin to play, I would think, “Agh, no! Not the music! Stop the music!!” as images of colorful carousel horses moving up and down began to fill my head. Such is the power of music, I guess.

The two revolution-oriented pieces made me contemplate on the possibility, however faint, of a revolution happening here during my lifetime. And, as Dr. Zhivago drove home (and as V for Vendetta made me wonder about despite its best efforts), revolutions rarely go as they were intended. (We see this sort of thing today in places like Iraq where the “revolution” was externally driven, for example.) And yet there are times, I fear, when peaceful changes are not possible. Fortunately we have not yet reached such a state in this country, but will my children or grandchildren live to see it?

The freedom of speech seemed to be the biggest one to go in both movies—there came a point where criticizing leaders or the system was at best looked down upon, and at worst criminalized. If we ever get to the point in this country where criticizing our leaders or the system is socially unacceptable, I fear that that day will signify the end—and the beginning—of an era.