Big Karma sticks it to Big Content™

Back in February, I wrote about a speech made by NARAS President and CEO Michael Greene entitled The Insidious Virus of Illegal Music Downloading. In this speech, which was delivered at the Grammy Awards, he blamed file-sharing for the music industry’s woes and stepped into the realm of crazed hyperbole when he called the matter of file sharing a life-and-death issue. You might also remember that I had this little message for Greene:

Mr. Greene, I respectfully suggest that you stop harassing the customers, and while you’re at it, stop harassing your own executives too.

Good news, kids. Greene’s out of a job, having stepped down from his position in disgrace.

First, there’s the matter of the sexual harassment settlement, for which a female employee of Greene’s was paid $650,000 rather than face a potentially damaging lawsuit. Six other women in his employ have filed similar complaints, and some of these cases have alos been settled out of court.

Then there’s the MusiCares scandal. MusiCares is a classic “aren’t we wonderful people?” project. Its purpose is to provide medical and financial help for ailing or indigent musicians. The problem is that only 10% of the money raised actually went to ailing and indigent musicians. The rest of the money seems to have gone to “other expenses”. The Los Angeles Times did a story on this fiasco that led to both a suit by NARAS against the Times and an IRS investigation. In light of the pious “we’re trying to help the musicians and you file-sharers are robbing them” stance, this is downright hypocritical.

I think a little schadenfreude is in order here. Let’s dance around a Maypole and pray that Hillary Rosen gets caught in a very embarassing “Mardi Gras Girls Gone Wild With Barnyard Animals” video.

Good riddance.

Recommended Reading

CNN: Grammy Boss Resigns Amid Controversy

E! Online News: Grammy Boss Resigns

MediaLife Magazine: Grammy-meister is goosed out

Los Angeles Times: Grammy in Transition After Greene Resigns, Greene Out As President of Grammys and Grammy Chief’s Pay: $1.5 million.

Please tell me you know the correct answers to these questions…

True or false?

a) Lasers work by focusing sound waves. (False. Lasers focus light.) 45 percent of the people who were asked this by the National Science Foundation got this one right.

b) Antibiotics kill viruses as well as bacteria. (False.) 51 percent.

c) The universe began with a huge explosion. (True, according to the “Big Bang” theory widely accepted by scientists, but dismissed by some religious leaders.) 33 percent.

d) The earliest humans lived at the same time as the dinosaurs. (False. Dinosaurs died off millions of years before humans appeared.) 48 percent.

e) Human beings developed from earlier species of animals. (True, according to the theory of evolution, which is accepted by the majority of scientists, but not by many religious leaders.) 53 percent.

According to the National Science Foundation, Americans are in pretty sad shape in terms of general scientific knowledge. They also report that while doctors and scientists are held in high esteem, belief in pseudoscience is “widespread and growing”.

Here’s a little good news from the study:

In contrast to two years ago, when half of those surveyed were wrong, a majority, 54 percent, answered correctly when asked how long it takes the Earth to orbit the sun. (One year.)

You can read the full story here.

Free scoop night

Don’t forget, tomorrow — May 1st — is free scoop night at Baskin-Robbins. George and Leesh, the participating Baskin-Robbins nearest you is here.

Emerging Technologies Conference, here I come…

I’ll be attending the O’Reilly Emerging Technologies Conference in Santa Clara from May 13th through 16th. I’m flying on accumulated points and am attending the conference on a free pass, so I figure it won’t put too much of a beating on my pocketbook.

I’m certain that I could probably pick up most of what’s going on at the conference without having to attend it, but there is a reason people often follow up stories with the line “you had to be there”. In spite of the fairly tightly-knit clan that a lot of us P2P veterans have on the IRC channel #infoanarchy as well as through e-mail, there’s still nothing like meeting face-to-face, hanging out, exchanging ideas or even just talking guff. I’m looking forward to catching up with some folks I haven’t seen in a while — Cory, Grad, John, Jill, Bram, Bryce, Justin, Roger, Clay, Rael and the world’s coolest geek book publisher, Tim O’Reilly.

It’s a real pity I no longer have the budget of a Director of Developer Relations. I’d love to buy rounds of beer for all you guys again.

By the way, Tim, if you need a closing keynote accordion number (just like the P2P Conference in February 2001), I’ll do one…

If you’ve seen the movie Snatch, you’ll remember this exchange:

U.S. Customs official: “Anything to declare?”

Avi: “Yeah. Don’t go to England.”

Avi, who was played by Dennis Farina, has a gruff swagger that my accountant Syd has. Syd’s been our family accountant for over 20 years, and all of us deVillas swear by him. He works hard to make sure we get the best possible outcome at tax time, and he’s not afraid to get into shouting matches with the folks at Revenue Canada.

He’s a large balding man with a goatee, who often wears a dress shirt over his paunch with the top three buttons undone. Underneath the open shirt, he wears his always-present large-link gold chain, from which hangs a gold Star of David the size of a quarter. If Shaft were Jewish, he’d wear this medallion. If Shaft were an accountant, he’d be Syd.

The deadline for filing taxes in Canada is midnight at the end of April 30th. I normally don’t like cutting things so close when it comes to financial matters, but life’s been hectic for the past couple of months, and in the confusion, filing taxes almost slipped off my to-do list. It didn’t, partly because I have an accountant like Syd.

“Joey,” he said in his basso profundo when he called me last week, “it’s your best friend Syd!”

“Syd, baby,” I said — and yes, I actually did say ‘Sid, baby’ — “I’ve got some file folders for you, all organized nicely in chronological order. Pay stubs, T4 slips, charitable donations, the works. I’ll drop them off at your office.”

“All right. And don’t just leave ’em and then fuck off — make sure I come out and say ‘hi’ to you.”

“Sure thing, Syd.” I find it reassuring that Syd swears more than most gangsta rappers. I’m not sure how Mom deals with it — she hates profanity like the dickens.

When my parents first used Syd’s services, his office was located in Greektown, a reasonably central location. It was possible to get to his office by subway, and it was a good excuse to go and get some souvlaki and walk through one of the more colourful parts of town. About ten years ago, he moved to Markham, a dreary accessible-only-by-highway suburb consisting of cookie-cutter housing projects, industrial parks, office complexes and open spaces punctuated by electrical transmission towers.

As coincidence would have it, his office is a five-minute drive west of my old workplace.

The tax deadline is Wednesday at midnight, which meant that Syd’s office was incredibly busy. Still, Syd managed to break away from number-crunching to have a little conference with me.

Syd (going through the folders I brought): All organized. Chronological order. Very nice. Not like your dad. He usually gives me two shoeboxes six hours before deadline.

Me: Generosity’s his strong suit, not organization.

Syd: A fuckin’ saint, your dad. Hey, you goin’ grey?

Me: Syd, I’ve had grey hair since I was thirteen.

Syd. No shit. You got nearly as much as me. So…you still a computer…guy?

Me: Yup. I got laid off in January and I’m thinking of going back to being an independent contractor for a while. I’ve got clients lined up without much trying on my part.

Syd: Good, good. Notice I didn’t call you a computer geek. I didn’t want to offend you. You see, I consider myself a fucking accounting geek.

Me: Geek isn’t an insult, it’s a badge of honour. At least in computer circles.

Syd: Fuckin’ A. Hey, has that deadbeat yutz housemate started paying you back yet?

Me: No. He keeps saying he’s working on it…

Syd: You know, we have ways of persuading to pay their fucking debts faster.

Me: We? You mean [the accounting firm]?

Syd: No, I mean my people. Like payback for Munich 1972.

Me: But that doesn’t have anything to do with owing money.

Syd: No, but it taught them that you can’t fuck around with us.

Me: I dunno, the yutz is worth more to me alive than dead.

Syd: Yeah, and fuckin’ contract killing isn’t deductible.

We laugh.

Me: Hey, Syd, I need your help with getting incorporated and setting myself up as an independent contractor. Can we talk soon?

Syd: Of course! Just make it next week — after Wednesday,

I’m going to fuck off for a couple of days which a big bottle of Chivas. I can’t incorporate you, but I’ll hook you up with the best fuckin’ lawyer I know. Then I’ll walk you through getting your GST and PST shit. Fuckin’ piece of cake.

Me: Cool. Monday then. (I get up and shake Syd’s hand). Thanks, man.

Syd: No fuckin’ sweat. Say hi to your mom and dad for me!

Syd fucking rules.