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Time on "Pirates of Primetime"
binarydreams writes "Time has a pretty decent article on the capturing and trading of television shows on the Internet. The author gives a very good description of the capturing process, the people who enjoy the results, the future of PVR (focusing on the Replay 4000) and why the TV and movie industries are scared."
This is just more of the TV industry coming to grips
with what happened to the music industry. But it's
important that the mainstream learns about it.
I derive great pleasure by watching (and hearing about) the foibles of geriatric Jack Valenti. He's been around forever -- since the days of JFK in various positions, IIRC -- and is probably the the thing that's standing between the MPAA and forward-thinking, progressive movement.
This is off-topic, but when I was 9 or 10 I desperately wanted to get into films like 'Apocalypse Now' and the 'Deer Hunter.' I didn't want to go accompanied with my parents (I did, eventually) and so took the opportunity to write Mr. Valenti and short (and not irate) letter about problems with the MPAA rating system. Now, say what you will about a 10 year old going to see 'Apocalypse Now' (and make cracks about it not being a good film anyway, blah blah blah) it was one of those formative experience films -- and I understood that even before seeing it.
Anyway, I had the letter proofed by various people (my dad taught English at a local college, so it was easy to get a bunch of opinions on whether or not the letter was 'too shrill' or 'too juvenile') and wrote a variety of drafts. The gist was this: that the MPAA rating system (before the days of PG-13) as it existed in 1979 was unfair: that it should be up to parents whether or not their children could go see a movie unaccompanied. My parents *wanted* to see 'Apocalypse Now' and 'The Deer Hunter' and 'Coming Home' and -- a few years before -- 'Saturday Night Fever' -- so it wasn't a matter of me not being able to go -- it was one of those 'on principle' things: who is this MPAA and why are they making rules for parents on what they can and can't do with their kids? (Kids can go to movies -- but only if their parents are there, too. To me, it was absurd. I mean, I was watching stuff like 'Wild Strawberries' and 'The Bicyle Thief' and 'Walkabout' (yeah, I know, it sounds pretentious -- blah blah blah -- but that's the sort of world I lived in -- lots of good films, good books, and I loved every minute of it) so it was absurd that some guy named Jack Valenti was telling me I couldn't see certain films by myself.
Anyway, I wrote the letter. Wrote many drafts. Finally nailed it. It was a page long. Not shrill. Thoughtful, but fim. I mailed it off to him. (A friend of a friend got his actual address.)
And I *never* heard back. Not a peep. Not a form letter. Nothing.
I thought: well, fuck him. I knew it was a dumb thing to do -- sending off a letter of complaint. And I knew even then that I was raging into the chasm. There was nothing down there except the sound of my own voice. I knew that.
But I at least expected a response. Some inkling that after all the trouble I went through he'd at least "took note" of my complaint and thanked me for writing and understood my frustration but, ya know, that's just the way it was.
What does this have to do with the topic at hand? Not much except for the Valenti link. The fact that it's still -- after all these years -- Jack Valenti telling us what we can and can't do. And why we're wrong doing what we're doing. It's Hilary Rosen, too, over at the RIAA -- I know that.
But somehow my little experience 15 years (I finally realized) is emblematic of the whole problem with corporate giants: that no one, in the end, gives a fuck. The corporations don't, at least. The politicians try, sure. But they're hamstrung by Valenti and Rosen and all the lawyers fighting the 'Bleak House'-like endless legal battle: battling for years and years. The point of the case is all but forgotten. But they're still suing, still collecting their fees.
That first lesson in cynicism still rankles me to this day. I wonder if he ever even read my little letter.