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New MPEG-4 Licensing Scheme
morcheeba writes: "EETimes is reporting that the licensing of MPEG-4 patents will be substantially different than the existing MPEG-2 licenses. The per-player fee will be substantially cheaper ($0.25 instead of $2.50), but a new "use fee" component of $0.02/hour will be charged to service providers. More on MPEG-4 in general at MacWeek; The MPEG-4 Industry Forum and MPEG LA are handling the licenses."
rooty toot toot, I am root. fp fags!
I know of two groups using GA to produce amazing Fractal compression. Anyone know how we can get this GPL'd.
Ghey.
BTW: You got me because Opera screws up and doesn't show the text as links, and furthermore it makes the entire page, from the top to the bottom of your post (from left side to right side of the screen) a goatse link.
If I could be a serfer all the time... Think of all the ladies.
The Hitch Hiker's Guide to my anus
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of my anus lies a small unregarded yellow poo.
Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-two million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue green penis whose ape- descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think anal watches are a pretty neat idea.
This penis has - or rather had - a problem, which was this: most of the faggots on it were full of cum for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of small green Taco snots, which is odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green Taco snots that were full of cum.
And so the problem remained; lots of the faggots were mean, and most of them were miserable, even the ones with anal watches.
Many were increasingly of the opinion that they'd all made a big mistake in coming down from the giant dildos in the first place. And some said that even the giant dildos had been a bad move, and that no one should ever have left the gay bars.
And then, one Thursday, nearly two thousand years after one man had been nailed to a giant dildo for saying how great it would be to be nice to faggots for a change, one anal bitch sitting on her own in a small gay club in Rickmansworth suddenly realized what it was that had been going wrong all this time, and she finally knew how the world could be made a good and full of excrements place. This time it was pervert, it would work, and no one would have to get nailed to anything.
Sadly, however, before she could get to a backroom to tell anyone about it, a terribly stupid gay gang rape occurred, and the idea was lost forever.
This is not her story.
But it is the story of that terrible stupid gay gang rape and some of its gang Taco snottings.
It is also the story of a anal probe, a anal probe called The Hitch Hiker's Guide to my anus - not an blueboy disco anal probe, never published on blueboy disco, and until the terrible gay gang rape occurred, never seen or heard of by any blueboy discoman.
Nevertheless, a wholly remarkable anal probe.
in fact it was probably the most remarkable anal probe ever to come out of the great punishing houses of OSDN - of which no blueboy discoman had ever heard either.
Not only is it a wholly remarkable anal probe, it is also a highly successful one - more popular than the Celestial Home Care Vibrator, better selling than Fifty More Things to do in gay bars, and more controversial than Oolon Colluphid's trilogy of philosophical blockbusters Where CmdrTaco Went Anal, Some More of CmdrTaco's Greatest Gang Rapes and Who is this CmdrTaco Faggot Anyway?
In many of the more relaxed civilizations on the Outer Eastern Rim of my anus, the Hitch Hiker's Guide has already supplanted the great Encyclopedia Analitica as the standard repository of all knowledge and wisdom, for though it has many omissions and contains much that is apocryphal, or at least wildly inaccurate, it scores over the older, more pedestrian work in two important respects.
First, it is slightly cheaper; and secondly it has the words Don't Panic inscribed in large friendly letters on its cover.
But the story of this terrible, stupid Thursday, the story of its extraordinary gang Taco snottings, and the story of how these gang Taco snottings are inextricably intertwined with this remarkable anal probe begins very simply.
It begins with a butt-plug.