Music.
It sometimes seems that a large chunk of my early education was devoted to making me hate things that should be fun. Physical Education classes in school only served to emphasise my physical ineptness, making me an easy target for ridicule and bullying. This only made me hate sports and physical activity more.
With music I received the standard public school sprinkling of rudimentary knowledge, but it was never done in a way I could really understand. The rote “4/4 time means four beats to the bar, and the quarter note gets one beat” was easy enough to memorize, but lacked real intuitive meaning. After all, what exactly is a beat? Is it every second, 2 seconds? It was never defined. Why four in a bar? Why not eight? Forty-Seven? What is the purpose of this bar thing anyway? The whole thing seemed pretty arbitrary, and still does in some ways.
My mother had been very musical, apparently, having played piano and been a music teacher or something. So I was expected to play piano as well, whether I liked it or not. My grandmother seemed to be the one pushing this, and she believed you could simply be ordered to have certain opinions and feelings. So I would like it and that was that. They sent me to a music teacher. Somehow they found the ideal example of the stereotypical piano teacher: elderly, thin, hawk faced, humourless, drab. Apparently music was a serious business and enjoyment or fun were not to be tolerated. So I again learned by rote and memorization without any real understanding. I played bland, uninteresting tunes, pressing the keys in the correct patterns to make the required noises. But it wasn’t really music; it never meant anything more than a series of notes. I never heard anything in these pieces that created any emotion or feeling (other than dread at having to plink out another one). Eventually I was able to get my Dad to allow me to quit.
And we never had much music in the house when I was growing up. Occasionally I might try playing one of my mother’s old records, but they didn’t really do much for me. Or perhaps on the odd rainy Sunday the stereo would be turned on to some inoffensive easy listening or classical station. There was never any ‘modern’ music around; certainly no rock or its various offshoots. For a while I even picked up an attitude that rock and such were garbage, but to be honest, I think this was just a defence for speaking to other kids about music that I knew nothing about.
Eventually , in the late 70’s /early 80’s I started to surreptitiously listen to more interesting stuff on the radio, like the local university station which played more alternative stuff like Depeche Mode, Talking Heads and the like. I just knew I liked it. And while my contemporaries claimed to like Kiss, I preferred Blondie (Debbie Harry was hot back then!) But I never felt that I could reveal my musical tastes at home. I always felt that I would be mocked (Grandmother), or they would be disappointed and call it garbage. So, I’d semi-secretly listen to tapes of The Police, or Dire Straits, and lots of other stuff on the radio.
After my father died and I was on my own, I started to listen to a wider variety. With the help of some musically inclined friends, I was able to explore a bit more and start a decent CD collection. I accumulated stuff from various genres including standard rock, pop, new wave, punk, industrial, surf, Madchester, Britpop, classical, prog rock, blues, jazz, techno/electronica and a few others. I hate county (99% of it, anyway), and most rap/hiphop type stuff.
Around 1989 I got the crazy idea that I’d like to play music myself. This time I would choose the instrument and I would choose the music. I would do it for my own enjoyment and because I wanted to do it. So I purchased a basic electric guitar, amp, and associated other bits, and started taking lessons. Being young and easily distracted, and in university at that time, I didn’t put in as much time and effort I perhaps I should, but I picked up a few things, and could pick out a few tunes and licks with fair proficiency. Later on I upgraded my axe to a proper noisemaker: a Fender American Standard Stratocaster, in 3 colour sunburst. I liked the feeling of just holding it.
Well, the metaphorical calendar pages fell off the wall, and around 1994 or 1995 we were very short on money. In order to pay the bills I pawned my beloved Strat. A feeling of failure sat heavy in my guts when I did that. That feeling faded over the years since, but never completely disappeared.
Here I am 15 years later and I’ve finally taken the leap back into the world of personally making music. With much less resistance than I had anticipated, the spousal unit let me purchase a new six-string electric twanger. It’s another Stratocaster, an American Special in two colour sunburst. This is a new model just starting this year. And I like it! It has an alder body with a glossy urethane coat that blends from a tan/yellow stain at the center to near-black on the edges, with the wood grain showing through the tan. It has a maple neck and fretboard, with a larger headstock than my old one. And three single coil Texas Special pickups. Again, I just like to hold the thing.
As far as my ability to play the thing, I seem to have forgotten almost everything. However, now that I’m older, I have the patience to learn it properly. I’m working on learning to read standard music notation (the little black dots), instead of the tablature I had used before. I’m currently following a course in a book/DVD-Rom package, and taking my time to make sure I really get it. Unfortunately I’m stuck on a terrible work schedule for the next 6 weeks that doesn’t give me much time to practice. But this won't last forever. A couple more months and I'll be able do dedicate more time.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Return of the Son of Blog’s Revenge: The New Beginning
Ok, so I’m back after the longest dry spell yet. I can’t give a better explanation than apathy, or distraction. Often when I fire up ye olde electronical calculating engine, I’d rather play a game than engage in any serious mental activity like writing. Mercilessly crushing my artificial opponents is much more immediately satisfying. Anywho, the topic for today is…
Cars.
I’ve had a mixed relationship with the automotive world, from a consumer standpoint anyway. Unlike most sixteen year olds, I was in no hurry to get my license; indeed I was very nervous about taking control of a huge mass of metal moving at high speed. I did get my license at eighteen and took over operation of my Dad’s 1973 Olds Cutlass Supreme, known affectionately as “The Green Monster”, for its colour, size and appetite.
Shortly after that I started at the Great Institute of Higher Learning and Drinking, where, in an attempt to define myself, I started taking an interest in the more esoteric aspects of gear-headedness. I read magazines like Car & Driver, and Road & Track (Rodent Rack?), and generally turned into a bit of a wannabe racer. Well, that just didn’t work with a dreadnought like the Monster. I needed something newer and cooler, a real chick magnet.
So I traded the Green Monster for a Chevy Beretta GT.
Done laughing yet?
Yes, in hindsight I can admit that ‘twas the folly of youth that made me choose that particular vehicular conveyance. Actually, from an external styling point of view it wasn’t bad, and with metallic blue paint and reddish-orange trim it actually looked pretty good at the time. Unfortunately it turned out to be a total lemon in the longer term. Every system in that vehicle broke down at least once in the nine years I owned it. Towards the end it was referred to by some of my co-workers as “The War Car”, thanks to its various visible defects. The multiple problems with that car, as well as less than stellar treatment by the dealership eliminated any chance of purchasing another GM product.
In 1998 after yet another expensive repair, spousal unit and I decided that we had had enough. It was time to get something else. We needed something reliable, and fairly cheap. So after some hemming and/or hawing on my part, we leased a Honda Civic sedan. There’s a vehicle that positively drips excitement…(note heavy sarcasm).
At that point, I couldn’t afford an interesting or exciting vehicle, so I settled for loyal A to B transportation. I’ve been in that situation for the last eleven years.
And I’m getting damned sick of it!
Now, I’ll admit that I’ve only ever been a road-racer wannabe. Hell, I’ve never even learned to drive a manual transmission; when I was learning we only had an automatic, and Dad wouldn’t pay the extra for manual training. And I’ve never had the money, tools, or confidence to try tinkering with the Honda. But now I seem to be feeling that lust for a vehicle with some guts, something more than basic transportation, something with more ability than roads and laws are really prepared to accommodate. Sure, it’s an ego thing, I realize that. But I feel a primal urge for something that roars when I stomp it; something more than the bland little box I’ve been driving the last decade. Maybe it’s the mid-life crisis thing kicking in. I suppose it would be typical for me to choose the technical approach to dealing with desperate attempt to hold onto my youth versus some folks who go for a hot, young bimbo. Probably cheaper in the long run as well.
But the best part is that, in the next year or two, I may actually be able to afford one!
Stay tuned for the next exciting episode: What car should it be?!
Cars.
I’ve had a mixed relationship with the automotive world, from a consumer standpoint anyway. Unlike most sixteen year olds, I was in no hurry to get my license; indeed I was very nervous about taking control of a huge mass of metal moving at high speed. I did get my license at eighteen and took over operation of my Dad’s 1973 Olds Cutlass Supreme, known affectionately as “The Green Monster”, for its colour, size and appetite.
Shortly after that I started at the Great Institute of Higher Learning and Drinking, where, in an attempt to define myself, I started taking an interest in the more esoteric aspects of gear-headedness. I read magazines like Car & Driver, and Road & Track (Rodent Rack?), and generally turned into a bit of a wannabe racer. Well, that just didn’t work with a dreadnought like the Monster. I needed something newer and cooler, a real chick magnet.
So I traded the Green Monster for a Chevy Beretta GT.
Done laughing yet?
Yes, in hindsight I can admit that ‘twas the folly of youth that made me choose that particular vehicular conveyance. Actually, from an external styling point of view it wasn’t bad, and with metallic blue paint and reddish-orange trim it actually looked pretty good at the time. Unfortunately it turned out to be a total lemon in the longer term. Every system in that vehicle broke down at least once in the nine years I owned it. Towards the end it was referred to by some of my co-workers as “The War Car”, thanks to its various visible defects. The multiple problems with that car, as well as less than stellar treatment by the dealership eliminated any chance of purchasing another GM product.
In 1998 after yet another expensive repair, spousal unit and I decided that we had had enough. It was time to get something else. We needed something reliable, and fairly cheap. So after some hemming and/or hawing on my part, we leased a Honda Civic sedan. There’s a vehicle that positively drips excitement…(note heavy sarcasm).
At that point, I couldn’t afford an interesting or exciting vehicle, so I settled for loyal A to B transportation. I’ve been in that situation for the last eleven years.
And I’m getting damned sick of it!
Now, I’ll admit that I’ve only ever been a road-racer wannabe. Hell, I’ve never even learned to drive a manual transmission; when I was learning we only had an automatic, and Dad wouldn’t pay the extra for manual training. And I’ve never had the money, tools, or confidence to try tinkering with the Honda. But now I seem to be feeling that lust for a vehicle with some guts, something more than basic transportation, something with more ability than roads and laws are really prepared to accommodate. Sure, it’s an ego thing, I realize that. But I feel a primal urge for something that roars when I stomp it; something more than the bland little box I’ve been driving the last decade. Maybe it’s the mid-life crisis thing kicking in. I suppose it would be typical for me to choose the technical approach to dealing with desperate attempt to hold onto my youth versus some folks who go for a hot, young bimbo. Probably cheaper in the long run as well.
But the best part is that, in the next year or two, I may actually be able to afford one!
Stay tuned for the next exciting episode: What car should it be?!
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Feeling blue?
For the last while I've been trying out an alternative form of swearing. Rather than use the standard f-bomb for everything, "That f-ing f-er really f-ed up this time!", I'm using another equally flexible, but more socially acceptable word: "Smurf". The cartoon Smurfs used this word for everything, in the same way that some people use f&*$, but Smurf can be used for everything!
I was talking about this with B-monster this morning, and strayed into the subject of cleaned-up movie dialog. Some movies, when sanitized for TV, actually become much funnier. I'm thinking of Repo Man as a good example: "Flip you, melonfarmer!"
So how about one of my favourite movies, Aliens, done with "Smurf"?
Hudson: Hey Vasquez, have you ever been mistaken for a smurf?
Vasquez: No. Have you?
Hudson: [puts his rifle against Burke's head] I say we grease this rat-smurf son-of-a-smurf right now.
Ripley: I say we take off and nuke the entire site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure.
Hudson: Smurfin' A...
Hudson: Well that's great, that's just smurfin' great, man. Now what the smurf are we supposed to do? We're in some real pretty smurf now man...
Hudson: That's it man, game over man, game over! What the smurf are we gonna do now? What are we gonna do?
Ripley: Get away from her, you *smurf!*
Vasquez: You always were a smurf, Gorman!
I was talking about this with B-monster this morning, and strayed into the subject of cleaned-up movie dialog. Some movies, when sanitized for TV, actually become much funnier. I'm thinking of Repo Man as a good example: "Flip you, melonfarmer!"
So how about one of my favourite movies, Aliens, done with "Smurf"?
Hudson: Hey Vasquez, have you ever been mistaken for a smurf?
Vasquez: No. Have you?
Hudson: [puts his rifle against Burke's head] I say we grease this rat-smurf son-of-a-smurf right now.
Ripley: I say we take off and nuke the entire site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure.
Hudson: Smurfin' A...
Hudson: Well that's great, that's just smurfin' great, man. Now what the smurf are we supposed to do? We're in some real pretty smurf now man...
Hudson: That's it man, game over man, game over! What the smurf are we gonna do now? What are we gonna do?
Ripley: Get away from her, you *smurf!*
Vasquez: You always were a smurf, Gorman!
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Perspective
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I just finished watching "The Shadow of the Moon", a documentary about the Apollo astronauts. Brilliant film. It got me thinking about this:
This is the famous "Pale Blue Dot" image taken by Voyager 1. The tiny dot in the center is the Earth, from 4 billion miles away.
"The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors, so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light."
-- Carl SaganFrom "Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space," Random House, 1994
So think about this the next time you're fuming about the price of gas, or the latest celebrity idiocy, or some other trivial issue. And think about how critical this little speck in the darkness is to our survival. This is all there is.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
I'll take the red pill...no the blue pill!!!... no red!!
Ok, I know it's been a while, perhaps I'll explain that later, but for now, I'm revved up and have to rant.
Ages ago, my friend B-man lent me a book called "Manufacturing Consent" by Noam Chomsky. Now, I'm not much for heavy analysis or serious philosophical thinking at this point in my life, but today I decided to dig into it. I'm halfway through the goddamn introduction and I'm already pissed off! Many of the points were things I'd already noticed on my own, but it's something else to see your possibly paranoid musings confirmed by experts.
The gist of it is that the mass media (tv, film, books, magazines, etc) are being controlled by fewer and fewer giant corporations, and that they also have political/economic agendas. The book points out the decline of actual journalism. Remember that? When actual reporters would go and investigate something, dig up facts, confirm things? Hell, now most "news" is just dressed up press releases from governments or corporations laundered through PR bastards. These PR spin doctors massively outnumber actual journalists. Hell, these professional liars' jobs are to sell us this BS.
The most glaringly obvious for the last decade or so has been Fox News. Former Bush press secretary Scott McLellan (a.k.a. the mouth of Sauron), has come out and admitted that they basically wrote the scripts for Fox's talking heads and pundits (def. loud mouth asshole). Throw another shovel of dirt on unbiased reporting.
And don't think it's been just the latest bunch of ratfucks who have been doing this; this kind of thing goes back to at least Reagan, not further, and no, it does not skip Clinton. When Saddam Hussein was persecuting Kurds, it was called 'genocide' on occasion. When Turkey was doing it, is was reluctantly referred to as 'repression'. Same evil, but it isn't so bad when your buddy does it.
Anyhoo, back to the point. Media and reporting is being controlled by a few economically and politically powerful groups. Reporting on reality has been replaced by infotainment and drivel. Bread and Circuses, as the Romans used to say. Mushroom management: keep 'em in the dark and feed 'em bullshit. The play up the atrocities of their opponents while hiding those of their friends. And all the while they parade the newest shiny trinkets in your face to distract you more.
Don't think they're hiding stuff? The one that struck me years ago, was the 1999 WTO meeting in Seattle. I only knew this because I happened to have a friend e-mailing me from there at the time. It seems the protest got a wee bit enthusiastic, and the authorities cracked down. A major American city was essentially under martial law for several day....and there was barely a peep about it. Seems like that would be a pretty big story. Later on a few stories snuck out, strictly amateur stuff as the big names still wouldn't touch it. I guess they'd been told.
So, the goal seems to be to tell us what they need to get us to react the way they want, and so we keep buying more and more and just going along in ignorant, apethetic bliss. Your government is supporting people who are killing and torturing? No, little children, they're supporting freedom against terrorists/rebels/communists (insert label here). But never you mind, just watch another episode of Baywatch, drink another beer, and think about how you'll pay for the gas for that ten-ton battlecruiser SUV in your driveway (you know the one, you take in half a mile to the store to load up on hyper-process, artificial, food-like fodder for the grazing trough. The thing that has 4 wheel drive, satellite navigation, active suspension, seats 50 and can climb an 80 degree grade, but has never been off pavement! Remember? The thing that put you so far in debt that you're an indentured servant to some financial industry loanshark.) We'll take the screaming brats (overweight from doing nothing but play videogames, and hyper and incoherent from being stuffed with sugar-soaked garbage) to the latest 90 minute long, formula drivel from Hollywood, where they can eat more shit, play more games, and be further indoctinated into the cult of BUYBUYBUY!!!. Then we can get them all the associated merchandise (all produced by foreigners working in near slavery conditions), so they can be occupied for five minutes before we chuck the junk in the nearest landfill for future (ha!) generations to find.
But trust us. We'll do what's right. Just be good herd animals. Stand out in the field grazing and getting fat with a dull glaze in your eyes. And when one of you disappears every once in a while, don't worry, they're just being detained indefinitely, without charge, in a secret prison, in another country, where they're being taught how to swim - upside down in a chair. Or be made into hamburger, to return to the analogy.
We're living in The Matrix. We're living in an artificial fantasy, being force-fed crap 24/7 by folks who profit from us being just that way. To be honest, it can be tempting to just play dumb and go along in blissful ignorance.
Wow, that's quite a rant for half a chapter! Actually, I've had a lot of that building up for a while.
Maybe it comes from age and/or wisdom, but I've been starting to see patterns is the world that I do not like. I feel a great disturbance in the force. I've been seeing the mountains of bullshit from south of the border, and from our "leaders" (doesn't that mean 'one who leads', not 'one who does what the lobbyists want'?) here. I'm disgusted with consumer culture and the need for more and more crap. I've been as guilty as any in the past for craving junk, but I hope I'm finally growing out of it.
Ok, that's enough rambling for now. My bile has subsided. More angry outbursts to come!
Ages ago, my friend B-man lent me a book called "Manufacturing Consent" by Noam Chomsky. Now, I'm not much for heavy analysis or serious philosophical thinking at this point in my life, but today I decided to dig into it. I'm halfway through the goddamn introduction and I'm already pissed off! Many of the points were things I'd already noticed on my own, but it's something else to see your possibly paranoid musings confirmed by experts.
The gist of it is that the mass media (tv, film, books, magazines, etc) are being controlled by fewer and fewer giant corporations, and that they also have political/economic agendas. The book points out the decline of actual journalism. Remember that? When actual reporters would go and investigate something, dig up facts, confirm things? Hell, now most "news" is just dressed up press releases from governments or corporations laundered through PR bastards. These PR spin doctors massively outnumber actual journalists. Hell, these professional liars' jobs are to sell us this BS.
The most glaringly obvious for the last decade or so has been Fox News. Former Bush press secretary Scott McLellan (a.k.a. the mouth of Sauron), has come out and admitted that they basically wrote the scripts for Fox's talking heads and pundits (def. loud mouth asshole). Throw another shovel of dirt on unbiased reporting.
And don't think it's been just the latest bunch of ratfucks who have been doing this; this kind of thing goes back to at least Reagan, not further, and no, it does not skip Clinton. When Saddam Hussein was persecuting Kurds, it was called 'genocide' on occasion. When Turkey was doing it, is was reluctantly referred to as 'repression'. Same evil, but it isn't so bad when your buddy does it.
Anyhoo, back to the point. Media and reporting is being controlled by a few economically and politically powerful groups. Reporting on reality has been replaced by infotainment and drivel. Bread and Circuses, as the Romans used to say. Mushroom management: keep 'em in the dark and feed 'em bullshit. The play up the atrocities of their opponents while hiding those of their friends. And all the while they parade the newest shiny trinkets in your face to distract you more.
Don't think they're hiding stuff? The one that struck me years ago, was the 1999 WTO meeting in Seattle. I only knew this because I happened to have a friend e-mailing me from there at the time. It seems the protest got a wee bit enthusiastic, and the authorities cracked down. A major American city was essentially under martial law for several day....and there was barely a peep about it. Seems like that would be a pretty big story. Later on a few stories snuck out, strictly amateur stuff as the big names still wouldn't touch it. I guess they'd been told.
So, the goal seems to be to tell us what they need to get us to react the way they want, and so we keep buying more and more and just going along in ignorant, apethetic bliss. Your government is supporting people who are killing and torturing? No, little children, they're supporting freedom against terrorists/rebels/communists (insert label here). But never you mind, just watch another episode of Baywatch, drink another beer, and think about how you'll pay for the gas for that ten-ton battlecruiser SUV in your driveway (you know the one, you take in half a mile to the store to load up on hyper-process, artificial, food-like fodder for the grazing trough. The thing that has 4 wheel drive, satellite navigation, active suspension, seats 50 and can climb an 80 degree grade, but has never been off pavement! Remember? The thing that put you so far in debt that you're an indentured servant to some financial industry loanshark.) We'll take the screaming brats (overweight from doing nothing but play videogames, and hyper and incoherent from being stuffed with sugar-soaked garbage) to the latest 90 minute long, formula drivel from Hollywood, where they can eat more shit, play more games, and be further indoctinated into the cult of BUYBUYBUY!!!. Then we can get them all the associated merchandise (all produced by foreigners working in near slavery conditions), so they can be occupied for five minutes before we chuck the junk in the nearest landfill for future (ha!) generations to find.
But trust us. We'll do what's right. Just be good herd animals. Stand out in the field grazing and getting fat with a dull glaze in your eyes. And when one of you disappears every once in a while, don't worry, they're just being detained indefinitely, without charge, in a secret prison, in another country, where they're being taught how to swim - upside down in a chair. Or be made into hamburger, to return to the analogy.
We're living in The Matrix. We're living in an artificial fantasy, being force-fed crap 24/7 by folks who profit from us being just that way. To be honest, it can be tempting to just play dumb and go along in blissful ignorance.
Wow, that's quite a rant for half a chapter! Actually, I've had a lot of that building up for a while.
Maybe it comes from age and/or wisdom, but I've been starting to see patterns is the world that I do not like. I feel a great disturbance in the force. I've been seeing the mountains of bullshit from south of the border, and from our "leaders" (doesn't that mean 'one who leads', not 'one who does what the lobbyists want'?) here. I'm disgusted with consumer culture and the need for more and more crap. I've been as guilty as any in the past for craving junk, but I hope I'm finally growing out of it.
Ok, that's enough rambling for now. My bile has subsided. More angry outbursts to come!
Monday, April 21, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
I'm baaacckkkk!!!!!
Right. The maintenance outage I was assigned to is over, and I'm back to my regular job and schedule. After 2 months of working alternating day and night 12 hour shifts (switching every 5 or 6 days!), I'm certainly ready for a rest. Unfortunately, most of the extra money I earned doing this was sunk into that black hole called debt. Oh well.
Anyhoo....
I came across this little gem on Wil Wheaton's blog. It's a music service called Magnatune, and it claims to be not evil. They boast CD quality downloads (MP3's are NOT CD quality), no DRM "broken by design" crap, 50% of revenue to the artist (as opposed to the pittance the RIAA deigns to give them, despite all their claims otherwise), Full previews (listen to it all before you buy), and pay what you think is fair! Plus a few other things. This sounds exceedingly cool. And the music is stuff you won't get from the mainstream.
I haven't checked it out entirely yet (or purchased anything), but this is a breath of fresh air amid the vile copyright servitude coming from the major producers these days with their "Just because you paid for it, you have no rights to do anything with it, and we're installing a secret spy program on your computer to make sure you don't, btw it also wrecks your security so hackers can have their way with you, and one more thing: we now own your spleen. The surgeon will be around next Tuesday. Any attempts to bypass this security will result in our horde of lawyers sueing you and everyone you've ever met. Remember this is for the sake of the artists, whom we give one-billionth of a percent of all sales." attitude.
Anyhoo....
I came across this little gem on Wil Wheaton's blog. It's a music service called Magnatune, and it claims to be not evil. They boast CD quality downloads (MP3's are NOT CD quality), no DRM "broken by design" crap, 50% of revenue to the artist (as opposed to the pittance the RIAA deigns to give them, despite all their claims otherwise), Full previews (listen to it all before you buy), and pay what you think is fair! Plus a few other things. This sounds exceedingly cool. And the music is stuff you won't get from the mainstream.
I haven't checked it out entirely yet (or purchased anything), but this is a breath of fresh air amid the vile copyright servitude coming from the major producers these days with their "Just because you paid for it, you have no rights to do anything with it, and we're installing a secret spy program on your computer to make sure you don't, btw it also wrecks your security so hackers can have their way with you, and one more thing: we now own your spleen. The surgeon will be around next Tuesday. Any attempts to bypass this security will result in our horde of lawyers sueing you and everyone you've ever met. Remember this is for the sake of the artists, whom we give one-billionth of a percent of all sales." attitude.
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