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The New Webcasting Compromise
arkham6 writes "According to a story on Yahoo, it appears that the RIAA and negotiators for webcasters have reached a tentative deal for reduced rates for 'small' webcasters. However, it appears now that the artists themselves are going to jump into the fray because the record companies now may be able to weasel out of paying the artists."
Web royalty rate deal reached
Sun Oct 6, 7:10 PM ET
By Brooks Boliek
WASHINGTON (De Hollywood Repo'ter) --- Negotsiato's fo' de reco'd companies and webcasters reached some deal Sunday on some royalty payment scheme fo' beat streamed upside de Internet dat carves out some lowa' rate fo' small webcasters, sources close t'de negotsiashuns said.
De deal came afta' an intense week uh negotsiashuns dat wuz sparked by pressho' man fum some key lawmaka' who dreatened legislashun dat would delay implementashun uh de payment. Man!
While details uh de deal wuz sketchy Sunday, it appears dat da damn reco'd companies made several concessions dat would allow webcasters dat ain't part uh de big broadcast and Internet conglomerates t'pay some significantly lowa' rate, de sources said.
De two-year deal allows small webcasters t'pay some "rate significantly lowa' dan de one da damn Librarian uh Congress came down wid," one source knowledgeable about da damn talks said. Exactly how some "small webcaster" wuz defined wuz unclear Sunday. Slap mah fro!
While da damn groups made some deal, it still gots'ta win de approval uh Congress as de rate set by Librarian uh Congress James Billin'ton Jr. Ah be baaad... earlia' dis year be still legally bindin'. Havin' de deal distilled t'law also ensho' mans dat it gots'ta apply t'everyone.
Aldough artists rights groups appear t'have no problem wid some deal dat helps small webcasters, some union official 'espressed concern about language dat could allow de reco'd companies t'avoid payin' artists deir share uh de royalty directly. Slap mah fro! De language seems t'allow de reco'din' industry t'deduct da damn top 'espenses dat dey incur fo' settin' down and maintainin' de royalty payment regime.
"Direct payment be crucial, and if de reco'din' industry digs deductibility language, we need direct payment," said one artists rights advocate familiar wid de negotsiashuns.
Unda' de regime, small webcasters gots'ta be required t'pay artists and reco'd companies some puh'centage uh deir revenue, sources said. De deal includes language dat gots'ta make it retroactive until 1998, de year set by Congress as some cutoff fo' payment, and gots'ta allow webcasters t'pay de earlia' rates in installments.
Webcasters and reco'd industry and union officials wuz attemptin' t'translate da damn deal into legislative language dat would be acceptable t'de parties and lawmakers, most notably Rep. Jes hang loose, brud. F. James Sensenbrenna' Jr. Ah be baaad..., R-Wis., chairman uh de Crib Judiciary Committee ( news - web sites), and da damn panel's senio' Democrat, Rep. Jes hang loose, brud. Raz'tus Conyers uh Michigan. 'S coo', bro.
Negotsiato's in de raps had proceeded in an on-again, off-again fashion since Billin'ton set da damn rate in June, but dey wuz supuh'charged when Sensenbrenna' introduced legislashun two weeks ago dat would postpone implementashun uh de rate.
Unda' de rate set by Billin'ton, webcasters gots'ta t'pay copyright holders whut amounts t'70 cents puh' beat fo' each 1,000 listeners. De royalty be split 50-50 between artists and da damn reco'd labels.
Would you care to tickle my balls?
You are a slow motherphucker. Next time, refrain from eating your boyfriend's ass for at least 20 seconds, and maybe you'll get a fp.
It's been 3 days since I've been back on my feet after my anal correction surgery. The doctors told me they have corrected as much of the damage as they could. I think I will get used to having to wear diapers the rest of my life, things could be worse. At least I am still alive, and I can still breathe the fresh air, smell the blossoming flowers, and hear the chirps of courting birds on a spring day. Although my life is much different now, I have the willpower and confidence to move on.
My name is Rob Malda. I got anally feltched too hard.
I remember the night like it was yesterday. Another fun and energetic Saturday at the discotech in the gay corner of town. I was being my normal flamboyant social butterfly self and talking to all the local cuties. There were a lot of muscly guys there and I must tell you the scent of raw, homosexual energy at the discotec always made the hair on my neck (and other places) stand erect. But there was this one guy who really stood out in the crowd. I would later discover his name was Jamal. The first time I saw his glistening ebony skin at the discotec I knew I wanted him inside me. I've always been good at picking up guys so I walked in my sharp female way, swinging my ass at each step, until I was right in front of that sexy piece of chocolate cake. He had short, frizzy hair, teeth whiter than milk, and a friendly smile that was out of this world. Man, I wanted his dick in my ass so bad. But I had to keep my groove. I said to him in my well crafted lisping tone, "Hey sweetie, I've never your sweet ass in these parts before, want to join me for a drink?" He smiled and replied in a deep yet touching voice, "Heh heh, I sure would you little sex muffin"
This really hit it off from there, We talked and danced and flirted like schoolgirls. I found out he was from a town a few hundred miles away, visiting the big city for a little fun. He had muscles like you wouldn't believe, obviously worked out a lot, I felt like a little strawman compared to him (I'm fashionably slim). I was on top of the world, the envy of every boy at the place, a star. When we were resting from the thumping disco-house music, I asked Jamal if he wanted a bump of crystal meth. He gladly accepted, telling me that in the town where he came from it was hard to find good crystal. I took a bump myself. My nose is no stranger to this wonderful stuff! The energy from the crystal really made us move. His dancing skills were on par with mine (which are excellent, I have danced in a couple of small Broadway-style plays before). I was really getting hot and horny at this point though, I knew we had to find a quiet spot of our own.
We walked very quickly to the bathroom; I couldn't keep my hands off his lucious abs. We found an empty stall and stormed into it, it was a whirling hurricane of passion. The speed made us very energetic. We didn't make out for long before things became hot and heavy. I slipped my hand into his tight leather pants and grabbed his sweet man package. I was thinking at this point 'how did a firehose end up in here?'. Then I realized this was his cock. It was the longest, thickest anaconda of a cock I ever witnessed. I pulled down his pants, which was difficult because he was getting real hard, real fast. I don't even want to guess how long his penis was, at least 12 inches, maybe more. And it was so think I couldn't even grab around it all with one hand. His cock was sweaty and glistened. I wanted this black staff real bad. I pulled off my own pants and bent down. I stuck the head of his cock in my mouth but it was just too big. I licked the rim a bit but I knew what I REALLY wanted. I turned around and assumed the position I have assumed so many times before. Face down, ass up. That's the way we like to fuck. My anus was not prepared for this brutal thrashing however. I've always described the sensation of anal intercourse as taking a long, incredibly enjoyable shit. But this didn't feel right at all. The walls of my anus were ripping, "PLEASE! Be gentle! I'm just a little white boy" I screamed. Jamal, fueled by crystal meth, wouldn't stop though. He began pushing his black cock into me harder and harder. The pain and pleasure was out of this world. I could feel his huge testicles smacking the back of my ass. He was grunting and groaning like a real man. I could hear the sensuous sound of blood and shit being packed by his violent fucking. I was in immense pain but I didn't want it to stop. He must have fucked me for 45 minutes before it was over but finally he began to cum. He was screaming so loud, "OH OH OH OH OH MY GOD, YES YES YES, TAKE IT LIKE A MAN, TAKE IT LIEK A MAN, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! OH YEAH!" At that moment I felt a gallon of cum spray into my ass, and I could hear shit, blood, and semen squishing inside me. It was paradise.
After Jamal removed his penis from my ass the problems started. I realized I was bleeding a lot more than usual. It took a whole roll of toilet paper to clean it up. I got dressed and returned to the discotech to unwind before going home. As I was walking across the dancefloor I felt a sharp pain in my ass and lower stomach. I fell to the floor and started screaming, I was shaking and sweaty and pale. At that moment, a huge surge of watery shit spewed from my anus. It was mixed with blood and semen. I was crying and screaming and in pain. Everything started to go black and I vomited all over myself. I briefly remember someone pulling me out of my pile of feces, semen, blood, and vomit and on to a stretcher.
I awoke in a hospital bed. A doctor was there when I opened my eyes. He explained to me how I almost died and how my ass and lower intestine were permanently damaged not only from Jamal but also from years of vigorous fucking by multitudes of men. It was a shock but I knew it was my own fault, you cannot lead this sort of lifestyle and not face the consequences one day.
So life goes on, I no longer frequent the discotec where I met Jamal and then collapsed spewing watery shit. I lead a much more relaxed, normal life now. I still talk to Jamal, even though he damaged me I will never forget that night. He is in love now with a boy in his hometown, and I wish him the best.
©2002 Anonymous Pancake
Knowing them, they'll probably serve Spam sandwiches.
Only if you're Morgan Webb.
That's what's so great about capitalism. You are free to get rich, buy the government, and erect barriers to entry in your industry. That way you don't have to work so hard at anything, but you can claim to be working. Then call anyone who thinks you don't work a communist and take their karma.
He painted a unicorn in outer space. I'm askin' ya, what's it breathin'?