But it's noting that as a risk factor -- because, as Sirius has pointed out in its own response to the similar lawsuit, decades have gone by and the labels have never been asking for licenses for performances of pre-1972 works. And those works have been used for years, license free, by TV and radio broadcasters, bars, restaurants and a variety of other places.
Pandora is paying nothing for playing these songs... and neither is anyone else, because that's how the law works in this specific case.
The authorities trying to make the drug no longer be an approved medicine? Where do you get that from?
What it says in the complaint is that competitors attacked the patent on grounds that it is "not useful" so that they could turn around and sell it themselves, which (if true, and I'm not accepting this whole thing uncritically) is about the most disingenuous thing ever.
I'm all for doing away with bad patents, but have a look at the actual letter, specifically the 4th paragraph. If the claim made here is true, (which is not necessarily the case, of course, but if it is...) then this issue is not nearly as black-and-white as it is being presented here.
Not just boring; the ending to ME3 was outright insulting, as no matter which of the three choices you choose, they're 90% identical and all three end up literally nullifying everything you've worked to accomplish over the course of the entire trilogy.
Even if you've taken the time and put in the hard work to peacefully resolve both of the central conflicts of the game, (Krogan vs. Salarian and Geth vs. Quarian,) which would have proven that the point being made at the end is invalid, Shepard never has the opportunity to present this line of reasoning. (You know, the sort of thing Paragon Shepard has been doing FOR THREE ENTIRE GAMES NOW?!?)
And then when enough fans complained, they released an updated version where Shepard gets to reject this line of reasoning... for an even stupider and more pointless ending that basically says "screw you, fans, you'll accept what we're doing and like it!"
Mass Effect 3, more than anything else they do or have done, is the reason why I'll never buy anything else from EA.
EPIC's FOIA lawsuit over similar information revealed last year that the FBI's facial recognition software (as of 2010) had an acceptable margin of error of 20%. With a 1-in-5 chance of "recognizing" the wrong person, the accuracy of the database had nowhere to go but up.
That's actually really good. Do you ever randomly see somebody (who you don't interact with on a daily basis) and think "that looks just like so-and-so that I used to know." And how often does it turn out to actually be that person, after your brain "identified" them?
What's somewhat incredible is that the David Nimmer that Posner relies on above to highlight that a performance itself is not copyrightable is one of the few "copyright experts" to claim that Kozinski's bizarre interpretation makes sense.
For some reason, I found this sentence difficult to parse and I had to read it several times before I got it. I would have phrased it like so:
What's somewhat incredible is that David Nimmer, who Posner relies on above to highlight that a performance itself is not copyrightable, is one of...
Yes, please do. The reality is far more complicated (and far more interesting!) than the simplistic "the church persecuted Galileo for teaching heliocentrism" myth that everyone's heard since grade school.
We found that officers routinely fired their Tasers, which discharge 50,000 volts of electricity,
I really wish people would stop sensationalizing this. I take 50,000 volt discharges on a daily basis, because of the carpet in the office where I work, and I'm fine. If you've ever touched a door handle and gotten a shock that you could feel, see and hear, that was at the very least 40,000 volts of electricity, and probably more.
On the other hand, a 120 volt current from wall power can kill you dead, because voltage is irrelevant. Amps kill, and Tasers have a very low amperage.
As you have said no amount of 'programming language change' can stop human errors.
Yes, but it can mitigate the damage they do. Tony Hoare knew how to make this sort of thing impossible waaaay back in 1960: design the language so that if someone tries to go outside the bounds of an array, the program crashes instead.
A better question: when did the programming community know about the problem?
The answer? Over a quarter-century ago. In 1988, the Morris Worm brought the Internet to its knees, taking down about 10% of all existing servers at the time. It got in through a buffer exploit in a piece of system software written in C.
That should have put the programming community on notice. The C language should have been dead by 1990, because this class of security hole (buffer exploits) is inherent in the design of the language and can't be fixed. Some people say "you just have to be careful and get it right," but to err is human, and it's an easy mistake to make. This means that the language is at odds with reality itself. Something has to give, and it's not going to be human nature.
They say those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Well, here we have it again, a major buffer exploit in a piece of software written in C, affecting between 10% (there's that figure again) and 66% of all servers on the Internet, depending on which estimate you listen to.
We know better than this. We have known better than this since before the Morris Worm ever happened, and indeed for longer than most people reading this post have been alive. I quote from Tony Hoare, one of the great pioneers in computer science, talking in 1980 about work he did in 1960:
A consequence of this principle [designing a language with checks against buffer overruns built in] is that every occurrence of every subscript of every subscripted variable was on every occasion checked at run time against both the upper and the lower declared bounds of the array. Many years later we asked our customers whether they wished us to provide an option to switch off these checks in the interest of efficiency on production runs. Unanimously, they urged us not to—they already knew how frequently subscript errors occur on production runs where failure to detect them could be disastrous. I note with fear and horror that even in 1980, language designers and users have not learned this lesson. In any respectable branch of engineering, failure to observe such elementary precautions would have long been against the law.
Maybe now that it's happened again we'll finally wise up and give this toxic language its long-overdue funeral?