Feeding the Bittorrent beast

Dave Winer talks about the growing importance of Bittorrent, mentions how Opera (still my favorite browser!) now supports it, and asks for “more non-infringing content.”

Hollywood hates Bittorrent because some people use it to redistribute illegally copied movie and music files. In the case of music, you can use Bittorrent to move around large libraries very quickly.

But the most common use of Bittorrent I see out there is not trading humongo MP3 libraries but instead much-higher-quality (.flac, .shn, etc.) recordings of live shows by bands that support such trading. These “lossless” music files are much bigger than MP3s; Bittorrent makes it possible to download them in a reasonable amount of time. The file traders are religious about preferring the higher-quality compression scheme — many will include little notices begging you not to convert the files to the “lossy” MP3.

Personally, I consider these recordings “non-infringing,” though I don’t know what the lawyers would say. Largehearted Boy does a daily “Bittorrent Brunch” pointing to new postings, many at Dimeadozen.

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Kurt Andersen on the new Web boom: Why the media industry keeps blowing bubbles

One of my first stops each morning is Jim Romenesko’s venerable blog of news-industry items. Since I work with one foot in the world of politics and journalism and the other in the tech world, sometimes the headlines trip me up.

This morning, for instance, I learned from Romenesko that “WP promotes Perl.” Aha! The Washington Post has decided that the open-source programming/scripting language Perl is the answer to its problems! No, this is a journalist named Peter Perl, and he’s becoming the Post’s associate managing editor. I’m not sure how many of Romenesko’s readers know, or care, what Perl is. But maybe they should.

Case in point: today’s dose of Romenesko pointed me toward New York magazine, where Kurt Andersen ponders whether the Web industry is once more heading into bubble territory — and concludes that it is. I don’t know which is scarier: Andersen’s general portrait of ignorance chasing investment returns, or his specific news that Michael Wolff (of “Burn Rate” fame) is plotting his return to the Net industry.

Andersen takes a bemused stance, suggesting that nobody really knows how far the insanity will go this time around. It’s hard to argue with that. But — as many media-industry-focused, New-York-based writers trying to get their heads around trends incubated in other places often have — he generalizes his own sense of ignorance a bit too broadly, implying that his own failures to pick up the scent of important new tech trends mean that any effort to do so must be doomed.

He kicks off with a series of anecdotes: In 1994, Time’s Walter Isaacson told him to nab the “New York” domain name for New York mag, which he was editing. Andersen admits he didn’t know what Isaacson was talking about. In 2000, when he was launching Inside.com, his partner Michael Hirschorn suggested that they create blogs on their site. Andersen didn’t know what blogs were. Two years later, as Inside was imploding, a friend in the business told him he should look into RSS. The term drew another blank stare.

These experiences, Andersen concludes, “confirm William Goldman’s truism about show business: Nobody knows anything.”

No, they don’t do that at all. In fact, Andersen’s advisers all seem to have known some very valuable and important things, things that he could have learned — and profited — from. I’ll give him credit for openly admitting his ignorance; that’s more than a lot of writers would do. But the leap from “I keep missing the boat” to “there is no boat” is unwarranted.

In the mid-’90s, as the hard work of building the Web industry began, it was hard to get people in New York to take what was happening on the Internet seriously. Then, in the late ’90s, as the prospect of vast IPO returns loomed, it was hard to get them to view anything that was happening on the Net critically. When the bubble burst, the general feeling in the corridors of media power was, “Thank God that Web stuff is over — now we can stop paying attention to all those Silicon Valley acronyms.” Today, apparently, the bit has flipped once more, and New York is returning to an uncritical embrace of all things Webbish.

What about the middle position? The one where you say, there’s enormous value and considerable crap bubbling out of the technology industry, and you try to do the hard work of sorting one from the other?

Ah, but that would mean trying to learn about things like domain names and blogs and RSS before they become buzzwords. And that, it seems, is simply asking too much.


 

Slow blogging

This past week, my minimal free time was devoted to: spring break for the kids; getting over a miserable cold; and continued work on edits for my book. Blogging recommences henceforth.

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The AMT shell game: Why Bush’s tax “cuts” aren’t

Over at Slate, Daniel Gross is explaining, once more, the role the Alternative Minimum Tax continues to play in the Bush administration’s deceptive tax policies.

The AMT is a bizarre parallel-universe of taxation with its own set of complex rules that differ from the normal IRS system. It was passed decades ago as an effort to prevent gazillionaires from using elaborate tax shelters to reduce their tax bills to zero. For many years it was easily ignored by the vast majority of Americans, and as recently as a few years ago the only non-super-rich people who worried about it were tech-industry types who’d hit the stock-option jackpot but played their cards wrong.

But the AMT was designed with its very own time-bomb: It was never indexed for inflation, and so each year the rising tide of inflation — even the slow, relatively benign inflation the U.S. has experienced in the last decade — lifts more and more middle-class Americans into its maw. The obvious answer is to fix it, either by repeal or by indexing it for inflation so it continues to apply only to the gazillionaires who were its original target. Shouldn’t be so hard, right?

Wrong. Because all those improbable Bush Administration forecasts of gradual deficit reduction depend on vast new federal revenue from the AMT. If you “fix” the AMT, you plunge the government way deeper in the debt hole than even the shysters running Bush’s fiscal policy could defend.

In other words, those big tax cuts that the administration keeps demanding be made permanent aren’t tax cuts at all — they’re tax transfers. The Bush policy is simple: Let’s cut taxes on dividends — which happen to fall most heavily on the wealthiest Americans — and raise taxes, via the AMT, on the upper-middle class (and increasingly, the middle class). Right now, the AMT is kicking in on two-income families with kids earning $100,000 or more in high-tax states like California and New York. (And yes, it’s been often noted that the AMT tends to hurt those in “blue” states most.) Each year the threshold gets lower.

Gross warns that this spring the IRS will report big fat gains in federal tax receipts and the Bush team will crow about how successful their supply-side tax cut has been. Don’t buy it: They’re not cutting taxes, they’re playing a shell game, and — unless we make a point of exposing the fraud and educating ourselves and our neighbors — we’re the suckers.


 

Random links

## “Word Processors: Stupid and Inefficient” [link courtesy Metafilter]:

Ever since I discovered that my aging trove of files written in WordPerfect 4.x was getting harder and harder to rescue from the digital scrapheap, I have made a point of storing all my writing and notes in plain-text form. When the Web came along and I moved my career from print to online, this made even more sense, since for anything that’s going to end up as HTML, the detour into some proprietary word-processing format is not merely a waste of time but an active hazard, and at the end of the line you’re only going to want plain text anyway.

When the whole life-hacks movement got going I was pleased to learn that my own behavior matched those of many uber-geeks who preferred plain text files for their longevity and adaptability.

This “word processors” rant is an old piece but it makes a cogent argument for the separation of content from display formatting — a sensible principle that drives most content-management software and Web-site production tools today.

## Mark Dominus unearths the origin of the “equals” sign in a 16th-century manuscript page — and in the process, explains a fascinating phase in the development of English in a page from Robert Recorde’s “The Whetstone of Witte.” [Link courtesy Greg Knauss over at kottke.org]

 

I had recently learned that the twiddle in the Spanish ñ character was similarly a letter “n”. A word like “año” was originally “anno” (as it is in Latin) and the second “n” was later abbreviated to a diacritic over the first “n”. (This makes a nice counterpoint to the fact that the mathematical logical negation symbol ∼ was selected because of its resemblance to the letter “N”.) But I had no idea that anything of the sort was ever done in English.

Recorde’s book shows clearly that it was, at least for a time. The short passage illustrated above contains two examples. One is the word “examples” itself, which is written “exãples”, with a tilde over the “a”. The other is “alteration”, which is written “alteratiõ”, with a tilde over the “o”. More examples abound: “cõpendiousnesse”, “nõbers”, “denominatiõ”, and, I think, “reme~ber”.

Dominus follows up with more on diacritical marks here. Unlike other European languages, English gradually dropped this practice, but in some alternate universe, we might be spelling “annual” añual.

I am always delighted with such evidence of the fluidity and dynamism of English — the 16th century was a period when the language was constantly soaking up words and structures from other cultures. Shakespeare and his contemporaries took full advantage of the language melee around them, and even as standards and rules coalesced in later centuries, English never adopted a top-down system of rules dictated by some academy (or Academie). Which is why, while I enjoy the pedanticism of a book like “Eats, Shoots & Leaves” as much as anyone else who has ever edited copy, I am happy that no dictator governs the language I work with every day, and that it is free to evolve based on the needs and practices of the people who use it.


 

Why clever blog headers are counter-productive

From Clive Thompson:

  When I interviewed Cory Doctorow — cofounder of Boing Boing — for my recent New York magazine feature on blogging, he pointed out an interesting aspect of Boing Boing’s success: Simple, straightforward headlines. Many bloggers tend to write clever, wry, allusive heads to their blog posts. This is a big mistake, Cory said, because so many people use RSS readers to scan their favorite blogs. Many RSS readers are configured to display the headline to each blog posting and a bit of text; in some cases, they display only the headline, Cory noted. And many people have dozens of dozens of blogs in their RSS readers, which means they’re scanning hundreds or even thousands of headlines a day — and thus scanning them at lightning pace. If you write abstruse, punning headlines where the meaning isn’t immediately clear, the reader will never click on your entry. Boing Boing, in contrast, always writes simple, just-the-facts headlines — and this, Cory says, is one secret to the blog’s success. Get that? The human readers of blogs are beginning to behave like bots, too: Quickly scanning for semantic meaning and ignoring everything else.

So much for my clever-headline-writing ways. Out with the puns! Utilitarian headers ho!

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Tie me Webaroo down, sport

Is it a bubble yet? There’s no way to be sure, but one telltale sign of irrational exuberance the last time around was the proliferation of companies based on ideas that simply made no sense.

The portents are beginning to loom once more. Look at the actual service that a new startup called Webaroo, featured in a little piece in the Times yesterday, provides.

Webaroo’s home screen screams: “Now you can search the Web when you’re NOT CONNECTED!”

Great. Just when we figure out that the value of the Web lies in the connections and conversations it facilitates; just when this “Live Web” gets booster-rockets in the form of AJAX-based Web applications; just when municipal WiFi and other newfangled forms of broad-based, cheap wireless connectivity are rolling out, so that we can be connected almost as much of the time as we want… Webaroo comes and gives us the Web on a hard drive — the disconnected Web — the dead Web!

Now, I’m sure there are situations and circumstances where the ability to store vast quantities of search-query results and cache gajillions of Web pages might come in handy. I’m not saying Webaroo is utterly useless. Just mostly. If you read closely on their site, it sounds like they started out focused on the vision of “The whole Web canned on your laptop!” — and that’s what the Times piece emphasized — but now they’re trying to reposition as a mobile-device content provider. I can’t see your PocketPC or Treo having enough memory to get you very far with this, though.

When I started covering technology in the early ’90s, CD-ROMs were all the rage. Almost immediately upon the arrival of the Web, it became clear that the new medium was more valuable — even though, at the start, CD-ROMs offered faster access to data and more elaborate interfaces. That’s because closed-ended, rich interactivity with a small static pile of data was infinitely less interesting than open-ended interactivity, however crude, with millions of other people.

So Webaroo will take the teeming ocean of today’s Web and bottle it for offline consumption. When a step backwards is branded as a leap forwards, and when people can be persuased to invest in such retrograde ventures, you know that dumb money has started to pile in behind the smart.