sometimes life feels just too cold and lonely....
especially on cold and lonely november nights...
wonder why I am listening to sad hindi songs...
Sunday, November 02, 2003
Wednesday, October 29, 2003
Shiver me Timbers!
There has been a lot of mud-slinging lately against RIAA after they brought out lawsuits against music downloaders. Downloaders and consumers in turn are up in arms against what they perceive is blatant unfairness of the recording industry. The supposed damage done to the labels by downloading music is seen as just retribution for the labels ripping off consumers with overpriced CDs for so many years. The lawsuit against the 12-year old girl from NY especially hit the headlines and invited more ranting and raving against the RIAA.
Most people with an internet connection and even a mild interest in music are probably guilty of downloading music at one time or another. There is no doubt that almost all of these, teens or otherwise, are law abiding citizens who would never steal anything in their lives. So how come exchanging music over the internet doesn't come under the purview of breaking the law? It's mostly because it is so anonymous. You are not breaking into someone's apartment and stealing their personal belongings, you are just logging on to the net and downloading something that is right there in front of you. But what most people fail to understand is that it is very much like breaking into an apartment and stealing something. Just because it doesn't feel like stealing doesn't make it any less wrong. Music is intellectual property and just like any other property, it is entirely up to the owner if and how he or she wants to share it or sell it. You cannot 'borrow' it without the owner's consent, or without paying what he/she deems is the right price for it.
Just to illustrate how frustrating it might be for musicians, here's a hypothetical scenario. A band records two versions of a song one day and don't even make a final cut of that song, only to find both the unfinished versions on the net the next day, available for free to anyone who has internet access. This happens with surprising regularity with big name artistes. Singles are available on the net much before their official release. Most bands/musicians put in hours of hard work into each song, right from writing the lyrics to producing and arranging the track. Fans have no right to be angry at their bands if they try to ban free downloading of music (like with what happened to Metallica). If they are true fans they will go out and buy the music instead of cheating the same band that they worship out of money that rightly belongs to them. Big acts like Metallica and Aerosmith earn most of their money performing live, and for them the issue of downloading music might just be about principles. Celebrities like Britney Spears earn most of their money from multi-million dollar contracts with the likes of Pepsi, they probably don't care either way. But the problem really comes to the fore when people can download music from smaller acts, those that depend solely on album sales for their livelihood. Fans may argue that downloading music doesn't really hurt bands financially, but that is true in only a very few cases.
On the flip side of the coin, the RIAA and the music labels are equally to blame for this mud-pit fiasco. No matter what kind of music you listen to, the quality and quantity of the music hardly ever justifies the price tag of a CD. I would rather download the songs for free and hurt an artiste financially than put in 18 dollars of my own money to buy a ten song CD that has two great tracks and eight mediocre ones. Of all the money a consumer pays for a CD barely a fraction goes back to the musician. Most of it lands up in the coffers of the music labels. Neither the production nor the commission justify such a high price for one CD.
The recording industry and the labels have a great chance here to show that they care about the consumer, music and the artistes equally. If they reduce the prices down to eight dollars, there will be a huge boost in sales, the consumers will get their money's worth and the artistes and labels will still rake in millions. The recording industry will still make a heavy profit, only not as much as before. It only seems fair though, because the set of ethics that prompted the RIAA to sue its consumers is the same set of ethics that should govern how the labels decide their pricing.
If that fails to happen, downloading will continue to become more sophisticated and there will be no way to stem the rot. And frankly, it will only be too well deserved.
Most people with an internet connection and even a mild interest in music are probably guilty of downloading music at one time or another. There is no doubt that almost all of these, teens or otherwise, are law abiding citizens who would never steal anything in their lives. So how come exchanging music over the internet doesn't come under the purview of breaking the law? It's mostly because it is so anonymous. You are not breaking into someone's apartment and stealing their personal belongings, you are just logging on to the net and downloading something that is right there in front of you. But what most people fail to understand is that it is very much like breaking into an apartment and stealing something. Just because it doesn't feel like stealing doesn't make it any less wrong. Music is intellectual property and just like any other property, it is entirely up to the owner if and how he or she wants to share it or sell it. You cannot 'borrow' it without the owner's consent, or without paying what he/she deems is the right price for it.
Just to illustrate how frustrating it might be for musicians, here's a hypothetical scenario. A band records two versions of a song one day and don't even make a final cut of that song, only to find both the unfinished versions on the net the next day, available for free to anyone who has internet access. This happens with surprising regularity with big name artistes. Singles are available on the net much before their official release. Most bands/musicians put in hours of hard work into each song, right from writing the lyrics to producing and arranging the track. Fans have no right to be angry at their bands if they try to ban free downloading of music (like with what happened to Metallica). If they are true fans they will go out and buy the music instead of cheating the same band that they worship out of money that rightly belongs to them. Big acts like Metallica and Aerosmith earn most of their money performing live, and for them the issue of downloading music might just be about principles. Celebrities like Britney Spears earn most of their money from multi-million dollar contracts with the likes of Pepsi, they probably don't care either way. But the problem really comes to the fore when people can download music from smaller acts, those that depend solely on album sales for their livelihood. Fans may argue that downloading music doesn't really hurt bands financially, but that is true in only a very few cases.
On the flip side of the coin, the RIAA and the music labels are equally to blame for this mud-pit fiasco. No matter what kind of music you listen to, the quality and quantity of the music hardly ever justifies the price tag of a CD. I would rather download the songs for free and hurt an artiste financially than put in 18 dollars of my own money to buy a ten song CD that has two great tracks and eight mediocre ones. Of all the money a consumer pays for a CD barely a fraction goes back to the musician. Most of it lands up in the coffers of the music labels. Neither the production nor the commission justify such a high price for one CD.
The recording industry and the labels have a great chance here to show that they care about the consumer, music and the artistes equally. If they reduce the prices down to eight dollars, there will be a huge boost in sales, the consumers will get their money's worth and the artistes and labels will still rake in millions. The recording industry will still make a heavy profit, only not as much as before. It only seems fair though, because the set of ethics that prompted the RIAA to sue its consumers is the same set of ethics that should govern how the labels decide their pricing.
If that fails to happen, downloading will continue to become more sophisticated and there will be no way to stem the rot. And frankly, it will only be too well deserved.
Friday, October 24, 2003
Here I Am
A new look for my blog. Spruced it up a bit. Hope it looks better.
Spending more time on my thesis now. I want to get this bad boy outa the way by next May. I have spent entirely too much time in college. It took me six years, but I have realised that studying really is the shits.
Just did a Koli Dance for the IANC (Indian Association of Northern Colorado) Diwali function last weekend. It went down really well. So well in fact that a bit of gloating is in order - it was by far the best dance on show. There, gloating done.
It's Friday and I wasn't planning on hanging around in school, but I have a packed day tomorrow, so thought I might get some work done today (obviously it's not working).
So much for that.
Spending more time on my thesis now. I want to get this bad boy outa the way by next May. I have spent entirely too much time in college. It took me six years, but I have realised that studying really is the shits.
Just did a Koli Dance for the IANC (Indian Association of Northern Colorado) Diwali function last weekend. It went down really well. So well in fact that a bit of gloating is in order - it was by far the best dance on show. There, gloating done.
It's Friday and I wasn't planning on hanging around in school, but I have a packed day tomorrow, so thought I might get some work done today (obviously it's not working).
So much for that.
Saturday, October 11, 2003
Statue Heads
Strange days have found us
Strange days have tracked us down
They're going to destroy
Our casual joys
We shall go on playing
Or find a new town
Strange eyes fill strange rooms
Voices will signal their tired end
The hostess is grinning
Her guests sleep from sinning
Hear me talk of sin
And you know this is it
Strange days have found us
And through their strange hours
We linger alone
Bodies confused
Memories misused
As we run from the day
To a strange night of stone
- The Doors
Sometimes life throws too much too quickly at you.
The sands of sanity slip inexorably through the hands of time.
You clasp desperately at empty air.
And by the time it all starts making sense it is too late.
Your life stretches behind you; the end beckons mesmerisingly.
All pretentions to immortality and aspirations to greatness fade away.
You are what you should have always been.
Before you were made into what you had been.
You look behind and wonder what you were meant to be.
If you were meant to be anything at all.
A mere speck of insignificance in a sea of nothingness.
That is all you are.
That is all I am.
And we will vanish in an instant .
Like dust in the wind.
So will all our existentialist angst.
The pain, the sorrow.
It will mean nothing tomorrow.
For then it will be someone else's time.
And so it goes. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.
Strange days have tracked us down
They're going to destroy
Our casual joys
We shall go on playing
Or find a new town
Strange eyes fill strange rooms
Voices will signal their tired end
The hostess is grinning
Her guests sleep from sinning
Hear me talk of sin
And you know this is it
Strange days have found us
And through their strange hours
We linger alone
Bodies confused
Memories misused
As we run from the day
To a strange night of stone
- The Doors
Sometimes life throws too much too quickly at you.
The sands of sanity slip inexorably through the hands of time.
You clasp desperately at empty air.
And by the time it all starts making sense it is too late.
Your life stretches behind you; the end beckons mesmerisingly.
All pretentions to immortality and aspirations to greatness fade away.
You are what you should have always been.
Before you were made into what you had been.
You look behind and wonder what you were meant to be.
If you were meant to be anything at all.
A mere speck of insignificance in a sea of nothingness.
That is all you are.
That is all I am.
And we will vanish in an instant .
Like dust in the wind.
So will all our existentialist angst.
The pain, the sorrow.
It will mean nothing tomorrow.
For then it will be someone else's time.
And so it goes. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.
Monday, September 22, 2003
The Grand Canyon Expedition Journal - Day I
September 4
7:30 a.m.
At long last the day has dawned when we start on our much awaited expedition to Grand Canyon. After innumerable postponements and even more crew changes, we fearless warriors are about to set forth on our voyage of discovery. The magnificent men in their Chevy Impala. Why they named a beast of a car like the Impala after a nimble little deer is completely beyond me.
We manage to pack this cavernous metal beast to its breaking point. Imagine what would have happened if we had a girl with us. The prospect of spending ten hours scrunched up like sardines in a can doesn't sound very appealing.
It's going to be long journey.
8:30 a.m.
And we are on our way.
"No, wait, we forgot the tents."
" Fine, we'll detour through school."
" Hey, we still need to the groceries."
"I know, I know; we'll go to Walmart from school."
9:30 a.m.
"Wow! Walmart's pretty empty at this time of the day."
One hour of shopping later : "What do you mean 71 dollars?!? We are camping out to save money and the grocery bill comes to 71 dollars??"
"Don't we need frying pans to cook all this stuff in?"
"You didn't bring frying pans, you dumb ass, what were you thinking?"
"Just shut up and drive the car."
11:00 a.m.
Home again. We pack the cutlery et al. in the back. We decide to do some more shopping.
It's going to be a really long journey.
11:30 a.m.
Indian store. We buy 12 packs of Maggi noodles. Ah yes, and one bottle of Maggi Hot and Sweet Tomato Chilli Sauce - it's different.
Suddenly all of us are feeling a lot brighter.
11:45 a.m.
At last we are out of town.
Onward and upward, umm...I mean downward.
02:00 p.m.
I hand over the car to Milind.
"You are bored of driving???
If someone asks me that question one more time I am going to punch that person in the face. I like driving as much as the next person, but after all there's something to be said about having control over the CD player.
05:00 p.m.
RJ is driving now. We have had 4 rest stops already. I am beginning to think RJ's bladder has sprung a leak.
AN: "May I drive?"
The rest of us: "Shut up and mind your own business."
Okay, okay, we didn't really say that.
We said "Why don't you drive in Mesa Verde tomorrow, it will be easier than the highway."
There, doesn't that sound better?
07:00 p.m.
It's been three hours since our last pit stop and RJ wants to pee badly. I try to convince him that we are almost at Mesa Verde and he doesn't have long to wait. He doesn't look convinced. He is sitting hunched at the edge of the seat, willing the car forward rather than driving it. I am beginning to feel distinctly unsafe.
At last we see the park entrance. Our cries of relief are quickly muted when RJ screeches to a halt and crashes out of the car towards the restroom. To my horror I see a large tour bus parked right beside the restroom. I have visions of gory bloodbaths as RJ fights his way into the loo. But thankfully there are only two people in line and it's all over quickly.
The night is cool and clear...and dark...when I suddenly realise we haven't the faintest clue how to pitch the tent.
08:00 p.m.
We have the campsite illuminated by the car's headlights. The three bags containing all the tent paraphernalia have been emptied on the ground. We all take turns squinting at the four lines on the label of one of the bags that ostensibly pass as the instructions for pitching up the tent. I look down at the array spread on the ground in front of us and try to remember why we thought this was going to be fun.
"The black rods form the X."
"The gold ones are supposed to be bent. They go on top of the black ones."
"No, you are all wrong. Its the purple rods. See, they even match the strings on the tent."
"That's not the tent, that's the cover."
"There's a cover?"
"How do you know which one's the tent?"
Yeah right, send four engineers to solve the problem. That'll do it.
But we didn't feel ashamed at our ineptness. Come on, that was a very complicated piece of equipment. And it was dark. And we were hungry. And whoever said we were good engineers anyway?
Much to everyone's relief AN proposes that we abandon our foolish attempts at pitching the tent and ask someone from a neighbouring campsite. So we trudge over to the closest one. It's a couple out for the weekend. The wife seems a bit suspicious of four brown guys taking away her husband under what she must be thinking are blatantly false pretenses. But he is a good sport and he agrees to help us anyway.
The tent is up in 10 minutes. Now we are feeling ashamed at our ineptness.
But boy, do we sleep well that night.
7:30 a.m.
At long last the day has dawned when we start on our much awaited expedition to Grand Canyon. After innumerable postponements and even more crew changes, we fearless warriors are about to set forth on our voyage of discovery. The magnificent men in their Chevy Impala. Why they named a beast of a car like the Impala after a nimble little deer is completely beyond me.
We manage to pack this cavernous metal beast to its breaking point. Imagine what would have happened if we had a girl with us. The prospect of spending ten hours scrunched up like sardines in a can doesn't sound very appealing.
It's going to be long journey.
8:30 a.m.
And we are on our way.
"No, wait, we forgot the tents."
" Fine, we'll detour through school."
" Hey, we still need to the groceries."
"I know, I know; we'll go to Walmart from school."
9:30 a.m.
"Wow! Walmart's pretty empty at this time of the day."
One hour of shopping later : "What do you mean 71 dollars?!? We are camping out to save money and the grocery bill comes to 71 dollars??"
"Don't we need frying pans to cook all this stuff in?"
"You didn't bring frying pans, you dumb ass, what were you thinking?"
"Just shut up and drive the car."
11:00 a.m.
Home again. We pack the cutlery et al. in the back. We decide to do some more shopping.
It's going to be a really long journey.
11:30 a.m.
Indian store. We buy 12 packs of Maggi noodles. Ah yes, and one bottle of Maggi Hot and Sweet Tomato Chilli Sauce - it's different.
Suddenly all of us are feeling a lot brighter.
11:45 a.m.
At last we are out of town.
Onward and upward, umm...I mean downward.
02:00 p.m.
I hand over the car to Milind.
"You are bored of driving???
If someone asks me that question one more time I am going to punch that person in the face. I like driving as much as the next person, but after all there's something to be said about having control over the CD player.
05:00 p.m.
RJ is driving now. We have had 4 rest stops already. I am beginning to think RJ's bladder has sprung a leak.
AN: "May I drive?"
The rest of us: "Shut up and mind your own business."
Okay, okay, we didn't really say that.
We said "Why don't you drive in Mesa Verde tomorrow, it will be easier than the highway."
There, doesn't that sound better?
07:00 p.m.
It's been three hours since our last pit stop and RJ wants to pee badly. I try to convince him that we are almost at Mesa Verde and he doesn't have long to wait. He doesn't look convinced. He is sitting hunched at the edge of the seat, willing the car forward rather than driving it. I am beginning to feel distinctly unsafe.
At last we see the park entrance. Our cries of relief are quickly muted when RJ screeches to a halt and crashes out of the car towards the restroom. To my horror I see a large tour bus parked right beside the restroom. I have visions of gory bloodbaths as RJ fights his way into the loo. But thankfully there are only two people in line and it's all over quickly.
The night is cool and clear...and dark...when I suddenly realise we haven't the faintest clue how to pitch the tent.
08:00 p.m.
We have the campsite illuminated by the car's headlights. The three bags containing all the tent paraphernalia have been emptied on the ground. We all take turns squinting at the four lines on the label of one of the bags that ostensibly pass as the instructions for pitching up the tent. I look down at the array spread on the ground in front of us and try to remember why we thought this was going to be fun.
"The black rods form the X."
"The gold ones are supposed to be bent. They go on top of the black ones."
"No, you are all wrong. Its the purple rods. See, they even match the strings on the tent."
"That's not the tent, that's the cover."
"There's a cover?"
"How do you know which one's the tent?"
Yeah right, send four engineers to solve the problem. That'll do it.
But we didn't feel ashamed at our ineptness. Come on, that was a very complicated piece of equipment. And it was dark. And we were hungry. And whoever said we were good engineers anyway?
Much to everyone's relief AN proposes that we abandon our foolish attempts at pitching the tent and ask someone from a neighbouring campsite. So we trudge over to the closest one. It's a couple out for the weekend. The wife seems a bit suspicious of four brown guys taking away her husband under what she must be thinking are blatantly false pretenses. But he is a good sport and he agrees to help us anyway.
The tent is up in 10 minutes. Now we are feeling ashamed at our ineptness.
But boy, do we sleep well that night.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
