New Bill Threatens to Plug "Analog Hole" 374
ThinSkin writes "In an effort to encourage consumers to embrace digital content, The Electronic Frontier Foundation is fighting a bill that would restrict owners of analog devices from recording analog content. For instance, if a fan wishes to tape a Baseball game on his VCR, the VCR would re-encode the content of that game and convert it into a digital form, which would then be filled with right restrictions and so forth. The process would be driven by VRAM (Veil Rights Assertion Mark), a technology that stamps analog content with DRM schemes."
This doesn't matter for us...! (Score:4, Funny)
So, of course, most
No Way !! (Score:4, Funny)
Re:Dupity Dupe (Score:5, Funny)
Re:Ignore that (Score:1, Funny)
hehhh heheheehehehehe (Score:1, Funny)
heh ehe he he heeh eh
Seriously (Score:3, Funny)
I'm just about ready to submit this to Leno for Headlines... :)
Analog Holes! (Score:3, Funny)
Oh wait, nerves use analog signals. All nerves must carry DRM!
Re:No Way !! (Score:2, Funny)
Re:Mod patent down (Score:3, Funny)
And in unrelated news... (Score:5, Funny)
A new closed captioning system for home video use was announced. The device is capable of writing arbitrary bit streams into various lines of the vertical blanking interval data, to allow the addition or modification of closed caption data for personal use and home viewing.
Note that posession of this device within the United States is a felony punishible by exile to the New York or Los Angeles Maximum Security Prisons.
Re:Seriously (Score:1, Funny)
Re:Dupity Dupe (Score:1, Funny)
Re:Paragraphs (Score:2, Funny)
Plug the Analog Hole (Score:3, Funny)
Re:Seriously (Score:2, Funny)
Re:As a record store owner. (Score:3, Funny)
The difference between automobiles and horseless carriages being what, exactly?
The time, the near future (Score:5, Funny)
You sit at a cluttered bench in a darkened back room, a single reading lamp illuminating a riot of ciruits and gleaming mechanical assemblies. Old stuff. Valuable. Practically priceless, since they cut off the Malaysian pipeline. A wisp of smoke caresses your face, carrying the scent of vaporized resin, molten tin, and lead. A bead of sweat rises on your forehead. This work is delicate: this piece is old, and if the traces lift that would be just too bad.
The sharp clang of a brass bell and the slam of the door break your concentration. "Damn," you mutter, "who the hell can that be."
You slip through the curtain, careful not to reveal any of the very incriminating goods back there, and let out a low whistle. It's a dame, and what a dame.
"Can you help me?" she asks.
"If you're looking for baseball cards," you reply, indicating the dusty glass cases. "Can I interest you in a Roger Clemens, he's real meat."
"Meat?"
"Yeah, you, know, pre-virtual." You watch her closely. She's hard to read, but one thing is certain, no broad ever strolled through this neighborhood at a eleven at night shopping for a goddam baseball card.
"A friend sent me," she says, a bit nervously.
"Oh, yeah, what's his name." Your eyes narrow suspiciously.
"Maybe you'll recognize him," she say, reaching into her purse.
You suck your breath involuntarily through your teeth. "Ipod," you whisper, "old by the looks of it."
"Original firmware" she purrs.
Original firmware. Easier to penetrate than a bus station ho. But this whole situation stinks bad. You're practically the only one left; better guys than you didn't last because they coudn't smell a setup. This lady may not know about the syndicate takover of baseball in '10, but she's very au courant about stuff she has no business being.
"Lady, you must have me confused with somebody else. Monkeying with one of those things is very illegal. I don't know where you found it, but I suggest you turn it into the Department of Free Expression right away."
"Oh, I don't think I have the right man," she purrs, a glint of steely amusement in her eyes, which flick down toyour right hand.
Suddenly you become aware of the smell of hot lead. Idiot! You never put down the damned soldering iron. If she had be DFE you'd be iced by now. You'd be lucky to be iced, instead of declared "illegal information operative" and put on a plane to one of their offshore IIO interrogation facilities.
"OK, lady, we can talk, but it's gonna cost ya." After all, that stunt you just pulled on the soldering iron took ten years off your life. Retirement is looking really attractive.
First they came for my TV (Score:5, Funny)
Then they came for my games... outrageous in-game commercial placements, interrupting game play to see the latest offers in entertainment. But I didn't care too much because after the first 15 versions of Civ, the gameplay tends to blend together anyway.
Then I tried to go to the movies, but they took that away too. In-movie commercials, and quarter-time commercial breaks while they "change the digital reels upstairs". But I didn't care cause I've seen enough cars blow up to last me a lifetime. Even the Simpsons parody of that got old already.
Next was my cell phone. Every two minutes, my phone calls were interrupted by a 15-second product slogan. My cell phone Pacman turned into the Pepsi sign overnight. But I didn't care cause I hate phones anyway.
When all the indoor entertainment was taken away and I hate to face the daylight, they came for that too. Huge billboards sprung up everywhere, they started painting the roads with Ford logos, the traffic lights were hung from McDonald's arches, and no building was left untouched without a product placement (Informed Consumer Act of 2015). I had nowhere to go to escape.
Finally, when they came to tattoo corporate logos on my family, I could do nothing. I couldn't even call for help, for I had already tossed my cell phone.