Where does this leave Amoeba? It seems to be standing on the notion that orphaned works are up for grabs so long as you pay out the owners' cut later when it's claimed. Orphaned works are creations for which no clear knowledge of ownership exists. But there's no provision in U.S. law for how to deal with orphaned works of any kind, music or otherwise. A proposal from 2006 was languishing at the Copyright Office, as it requires Congress to take it up (ha) to establish a clear procedure in law.

A list of complaints include HD content is (was?) only available on Samsung Smart TVs, meaning you were only given SD quality when streaming through your computer or any other device. Same goes for surround sound and 5.1, which are only available through the Samsung TV app. Other complaints I've heard includes buffering problems with the Widevine plugin (at standard definition), and lack of Apple Airplay support. The product is available as iOS and Android apps, but Xbox and Playstation apps are still said to be under development.

The online UI is nice to look at but was poorly designed; initially HBO only allowed you to search for TV shows by alphabetical letter. The results were underwhelming and exaggerated how little content HBO was offering.

...

It should be noted that you're not given access to the full back catalogue, several classics are not available such as Deadwood and Oz, which apparently have some copyright restrictions.

Some might claim it's still a good deal at €9.95/month, considering most people can't access any of these shows legally without a full cable package. Of course, Netflix only costs €7.99/month in the region, and has a larger selection, which makes the price a little less impressive. Then there's the fact that HBO initially promised much, much more:

• Every episode of all HBO series available online
• All new episodes available within 24 hours of the US premiere, with local subtitles (dubbing is rare in the Nordics, foreign TV shows and movies are usually subtitled in the local language)
• Works on practically all devices: smartphones, tablets (Android, iOS), computers (Windows, Linux, Mac), video game consoles (PS3, Xbox), Samsung Smart TVs and Blu-ray players, and Sonera IPTV service
• Full HD 1080p picture quality
• Surround sound

Compare that to the list of complaints, and you realize HBO isn't doing a great job of living up to the expectations it created. Then there's the other truly insane catch: customers are locked into a 12-month contract, after which they must give 3-month notice for cancellation. Yeah. Moreover, the terms stated that simply logging into the service once waives your ability to cancel it because you're not satisfied (despite using the service being the only way to know if you are satisfied). After facing significant criticism for this move, HBO backtracked and offered subscribers the chance to use the service until the end of this month without a longer commitment—but only those subscribers who also signed up for the HBO Nordic newsletter. Classy.

It's no real surprise that HBO's first attempt at a standalone online offering is a disaster. HBO approaches the internet with extreme trepidation, but revolution requires gusto. Digital distribution—especially when it comes to competing with piracy—is a go big or go home endeavor. Or... go halfway, and watch your customers go elsewhere.

The only real difference is that online versions are insubstantial, simply an image on a screen, while printed versions consist of ink on paper. Maybe her comment does, in fact, reflect her past as a chemist, and what she secretly misses is that characteristic odor of printing inks. Perhaps she just needs a iSmell Personal Scent Synthesizer device or equivalent.

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Here's the central problem:

The value propositions of paper-based and digital lending are fundamentally different. A paper-based library builds permanent infrastructure: collections, buildings, and catalogs are assets that continue to pay dividends far into the future. In contrast, resources spent on digital lending are pure overhead. This includes staff time spent on negotiating licenses, development and maintenance of authentication systems, OpenURL, proxy, and web servers, and the software development to give a unified interface to disparate systems of content distributors.

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That false equivalence between counterfeits and digital copies is also employed to give the impression that since cheap knock-offs are pretty obvious, it's easy to tell the difference between a legal digital file, and one that is unauthorised. However, unauthorised digital files are generally exact copies of authorised ones, making it impossible to tell them apart. What counts is whether the distribution is authorized, and there are all kinds of legal considerations like fair use or Creative Commons licensing that can make it very hard to tell without detailed legal scrutiny in a court.

Even the assumption that physical copies are relatively easy to spot is dubious, as this fascinating essay from Andrew 'bunnie' Huang about counterfeit chips in military hardware explains. Here's the background:

Amendment 1092 to the Defense Authorization Act of 2012 is a well-intentioned but misguided provision outlining measures designed to reduce the prevalance of counterfeit chips in the US military supply chain.

< ...>

Under the proposed anti-counterfeit amendment, first-time offenders can receive a $5 million fine and 20 years prison for individuals, or $15 million for corporations; a penalty comparable to that of trafficking cocaine.

Alongside "trivial external mimicry" – authentic-looking but empty packages – he mentions the following: refurbished parts (authentic parts recovered from e-waste); rebinned parts (authentic but with markings changed to a higher specification); ghost-shift parts (produced in the official factory by employees, but unofficially); factory scrap (rejects and pilot runs recovered from the scrap heap); and second-sourcing gone bad (pin-compatible replacements produced by competitors remarked as superior brands.)

As Huang points out:

It’s one thing to inspect fruits and vegetables as they enter the country for pests and other problems; but it is misguided to require Customs officers to become experts in detecting fakes, and/or to burden vendors with the onus of determining whether parts are authentic, particularly with such high penalties involved and the relative ease that forgers can create high-quality counterfeit parts.

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People try to put us d-down (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Just because we get around (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I hope I die before I get old (Talkin' 'bout my generation)

This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

Why don't you all f-fade away (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
And don't try to dig what we all s-s-say (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm not trying to cause a big s-s-sensation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm just talkin' 'bout my g-g-g-generation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)

When Netflix shocked everyone by pricing way up DVD-by-mail subscriptions — up to a 60-percent increase — that’s what he was doing: forcing the digital shift. The digital shift is what Hastings wants to happen faster. Right now, 60 percent of his 25 million subscribers are DVD takers, and the majority of the revenue is on that side of the business. He knew when he started the business that he would start with DVDs, but that the long-term business was streaming (“Six Lessons for the News Industry from Reed Hastings“). He just had to wait for the rest of the world to catch up to that vision.

The economics of his business is clear. Charge consumers less (for now) for streaming ($7.99 a month) — and profit more. As he shifts the business, the cost of revenues has already decreased almost two percentage points in a year, from 64.6 percent to 62.8 percent. Lower cost of revenues means higher cross margin, and that’s what investors have loved about the company.

• Tradition is not a business model. The past is no longer a reliable guide to future success.
• "Should" is not a business model. You can say that people "should" pay for your product but they will only if they find value in it.
• Virtue is not a business model. Just because you do good does not mean you deserve to be paid for it.
• Business models are not made of entitlements and emotions. They are made of hard economics. Money has no heart.
• Begging is not a business model. It's lazy to think that foundations and contributions can solve news' problems. There isn't enough money there.
• No one cares what you spent. Arguing that news costs a lot is irrelevant to the market.

Suppose I tweet that I'm trying to remember which Borges story has that line about how "mirrors and copulation are abominable, because they increase the number of men." Some of my diligent friends hurry to their libraries, flip through their Borges collections, and tweet back the answer--along with a few sentences of the surrounding context. Clearly there's nothing intrinsically objectionable about the search function, and a quotation of a sufficiently limited portion of the whole work in reply would normally be protected by fair use. The problem is just that Google's search--and indeed, any computer search--technically requires that a copy be made. But to my mind, this just underscores how increasingly maladaptive it is to make "copying" the primary locus of regulation in our system of intellectual property.

Technology even complicates the question of just what constitutes a "copy"--an intriguing issue I explored in a few articles back in my days at Ars Technica. Imagine, for instance, that Google took a different approach to indexing in hopes of avoiding thorny copyright questions. Instead of storing "copies" of each book, suppose they created a huge database called Google Concordance, consisting of an enormous catalog of every word or short phrase someone might want to look up, followed by a long list, like a kind of super-index, specifying the location on every page of every book in which that word or phrase appears. ("Aardvark: Blackwell Guide to the Philosophy of Computing and Information, Page 221, Line 17, word 3...") Obviously, the Google Concordance would be a very valuable and useful reference text, and nowhere in the database would you find anything resembling a "copy" of any of the cataloged works. But just as obviously, it would contain all the information a clever programmer would need to reconstruct an arbitrary portion of the original text on the fly, assuming the database could be queried fast enough. You can imagine someone creating certain kinds of “derivative works” in a similar way: If you don't want the RIAA taking down your mashup, you might try to offer it as an algortithm specifying time segments of component tracks to be combined in a particular manner... an algorithm that might produce gibberish or Girl Talk depending on what files you feed it.

In a sense, it's always the processing algorithm that determines whether a particular binary string is a "copy" of a work or not. Open an MP3 of a Lady Gaga track in a text editor and you'll get a wholly original work of experimental literature--though not one anybody (except possibly Lady Gaga) is likely to be interested in reading. For that matter, Google's database is just an enormous collection of ones and zeroes until some program processes it to generate human-readable output. I distinguished my hypothetical Google Concordance database from a collection of copied books, but if you point to a particular file and ask whether it contains the Concordance or copies of the books, there's a very literal sense in which there just is no fact of the matter until you know what algorithm will be used to render it as alphanumeric text. This may sound like airy metaphysical hairsplitting, but the power of computers to rapidly aggregate and process dispersed information on a global network is likely to create genuine practical complications for a legal framework that takes discrete, physically contiguous chunks called "copies" as its fundamental unit of analysis. Legally speaking, it would seem to make an enormous difference whether books are scanned and stored as books, or as a comprehensive concordance database maintained by Google, or as a series of hundreds or thousands of complementary partial concordances dispersed across many servers (or even individual hard-drives linked by a p2p network). Given sufficient bandwidth and processing speed, it might make no difference at all in practice. Maybe we should take that as a hint to reexamine our categories.

Instead of ginning up exceptions to a general prohibition on copying just to permit publicly valuable use of content, maybe we should just admit that "copying" no longer makes sense as a primary locus of intellectual property regulation. Fair use analysis typically employs a four factor test, but the upshot is usually to see how a particular type of copying would affect the market for the original work--which makes sense, given that the purpose of copyright is to give creators a financial incentive to produce and distribute new works. If that's fundamentally what we care about, though, a default property-like right of control over copying, which now has to be riddled with exceptions to allow almost any ordinary use of content, looks like an increasingly circuitous Rube Goldberg mechanism for achieving that goal. I'm not sure what the alternative would be--or even whether rejiggering the basic categories would alter the the underlying analysis much. But--just off the top of my head--you could imagine a system where the core offense was not "copyright infringement" but some kind of tort of unfair competition with an original work. In many cases it would yield the same practical result, but at least we'd reorient the public discourse around "copyright" to focus on measurable harms to creators' earnings--and ideally get away from the confused notion that copying without permission is somehow equivalent to "stealing" by default unless it fits some pre-established exception.

I wish this made sense to me. The only reason to price the digital copy at 6 dollars is to keep retailers happy. It's not in service of Marvel readers and it's certainly not in service of expanding Marvel's audience. I have a lot of friends discovering Marvel comics for the first time through the iPad app. Paying for 1/3 of a comic for the same price they normally pay for a whole comic is not something they'll appreciate or understand. I get Marvel's desire to make a move like this without spooking retailers or Diamond. It's like a scuba-diver pacing his rise to the surface to avoid getting the bends. But what does Marvel risk by scaring off potential new digital customers by pricing a virtual copy of a comic higher than the physical copy you get to keep? And for what? To keep retailers happy?

The only problem with that thinking is that Marvel Comics isn't in the business of keeping retailers solvent. Marvel Comics is in the business of producing and distributing comic books to as many readers as possible. At least it SHOULD be. And if digital distribution has a chance of being more profitable than brick-and-mortar store distribution then Marvel owes it to its readers, creators and stock holders to pursue that business without having to worry about someone else's business for nostalgia's sake.

Marvel should take a page out of Steve Job's notebook on this one. Be visionary and push ahead no matter who it pisses off. Especially if it's good for the company, readers and the industry itself.

The biographical download brings alive the artist's history, including archival interviews and commentary from journalists, friends and family members. Each audio documentary runs approximately 15 minutes.