Yes, that's the trailer for a new video game to be released shortly, and it was inspired almost entirely by an online group and the resulting internet meme the group produced. Included amongst this list of video games resulting from internet memes, the entire premise of the game began with what was essentially a bitch-session online over how awful shooter game sequels are.

It all started with a joke on a forum. One NeoGAF forum user, annoyed with how lazy shooters had become, complained that he was tired of games like 'Dudebro 2: It's Straight-Up Dawg Time.' It grew from there.

The phrase became a byline for tired, me-too games, but it was so absurd that it got people thinking. Soon, it had mock cover art and a storyline. Before long, a team of fans were working on an entire game, a 2D platformer, and it's on the way soon. It even stars Jon St. John, the actor famous for voicing Duke Nukem.

The idea of writing a kernel for Richard Stallman's GNU operating system was obvious to everyone -- it was the key piece still missing. In fact, a year before Torvalds started Linux, Stallman himself had begun working on a version called the Hurd, along with a few fellow coders of his Free Software Foundation.

Despite this impeccable pedigree, the Hurd is being used today by only a tiny fraction of the hundreds of millions running Linux -- further evidence that it's really not the idea, but the execution that counts.

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For me, it was The Animals. ... "We Gotta Get Out Of This Place" had a great bass riff, you know it had that—[plays riff on guitar]—and that was just a clock, a clock marking time. [sings the first few lines] That's every song I've ever written. "Badlands", "Prove It All Night", "Darkness" was filled with Animals. Youngsters, watch this one. I'll tell you how it's done right now. I took "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" [hums and strums the Animals riff, then transitions into his song Badlands]—It's the same fucking riff man. Listen up youngsters: this is how successful theft is accomplished.

Okay, so he calls it "theft" which it really isn't, but I'm less bothered by that when artists are using it as a playful term for copying than when they use it to try to give false emotional resonance to infringement. The point remains the same: artists (and I don't think anyone can argue that the The Boss is not a bona fide artist) copy and build upon the work of others. Michael Jackson and Bruce Springsteen are high-profile examples, but they are just a drop in the bucket. Every artist, big and small, does the same thing. It's not being unoriginal, it's just how art works.

"Some people believe in public domain. Why? Just so you can rip off dead people's works? That's pathetic."

When 60s pop star Columbus suffered a stroke nearly four years ago, he was able to pay the bills because every time a song he has performed gets played, he still collects a fee.

"The performing fees I get give a dribbling of an income that's so important to artists."

Well you know, as I've matured as a songwriter, I realize that if it's out there, it's mine. You know, everything I see and hear, I don't care if Shakespeare wrote it, or Tennessee Williams wrote it, or if Bob Dylan wrote it, or I see it on a sitcom. If I hear words, they're mine.

And so I will take ideas from anyplace, anywhere, anytime, and life has become a song to me. I'm always looking for a song.

It reminded me of a point often made by folks who fight overly-aggressive copyright laws: All new art is based on art that came before, so copyright law ought not to be too rigid. If you can't remix and resample and re-use art -- after a reasonable term of exclusivity for the original creators, who in this case are long dead -- then culture dies. More subtly yet, our appreciation for earlier art dies if our contemporary artists cannot easily plunder the styles and content of their forebears.

The irony here is that the instant after I snapped this picture, the security guards of the Art Gallery of Ontario raced over to (politely) warn me that I wasn't allowed to take pictures. Why? Well, some art galleries disallow photos because flashes can damage paintings, a prohibition that makes total sense. But my iPhone doesn't have a flash. No, the Art Gallery of Ontario prohibits photographs of artwork because of copyright restrictions.... It's even more daft when you consider that I'm basically doing free promotion here.You want people to visit galleries? Well, surely one good way is to let visitors take and post photos of their little kids spellbound by major works of art.

If we move toward making content free for copying, distribution and remixing, the professional creators and their distributors will have an even tougher future. Erosion of the copyright system comes at a price. If we have to choose between encouraging original creativity and remixing, why not err on the side of encouraging the originators?

I knew back then that Nat Cole was bigger than ever. Whites could relate to him because he dealt with material they understood, and he did so with great feeling. Funny thing, but during all these years I was imitating Nat Cole, I never thought twice about it, never felt bad about copying the cat's licks. To me it was practically a science. I worked at it, I enjoyed it, I was proud of it, and I loved doing it. He was a guy everyone admired, and it just made sense to me, musical and commercial sense, to study his technique. It was something like when a young lawyer--just out of school--respects an older lawyer. He tries to get inside his mind, he studies to see how he writes up all his cases, and he's going to sound a whole lot like the older man--at least till he figures out how to get his own shit together. Today I hear some singers who I think sound like me. Joe Cocker, for instance. Man, I know that cat must sleep with my records. But I don't mind. I'm flattered; I understand. After all, I did the same thing.