Cory Doctorow chatting about digital rights management

Cory Doctorow went to Seattle and chatted with some Microsofties about digital rights management.

It’s groovy:

Here’s the social reason that DRM fails: keeping an honest user honest is like keeping a tall user tall. DRM vendors tell us that their technology is meant to be proof against average users, not organized criminal gangs like the Ukranian pirates who stamp out millions of high-quality counterfeits. It’s not meant to be proof against sophisticated college kids. It’s not meant to be proof against anyone who knows how to edit her registry, or hold down the shift key at the right moment, or use a search engine. At the end of the day, the user DRM is meant to defend against is the most unsophisticated and least capable among us.

questions hour

from the beetle god comes this, to which i reply in parts:

what do you write
somewhat in all the span of time that takes a licking: feel those bubbles!
what taints you
or when the tongue trolls around and probes that sticking place, a papered over wound that’s raw and hurtful
what takes you to the inside tumbling stones
and gravel shifting so in a silent unconscious
this, or staring out the window sometime, when all the world rolls by, or maybe a cat pouring liquid around the room
what makes you
the memory of myself, when the time comes, digging through that stack
what tells you when to go to bed in the morning and when to wake up at night
1) feel that rain dribbling oh it’s so… 2) there’s a burning in her eyes and o!
who is your one
that one that i find in the night when i wake from being alone
who finds you in the darkness when you are crying
all the tears in heaven don’t stop her from coming
who are you when you’re alone
only that slow molassess knows
what turns your headlights on
a magpie bird: spy those sharp and glitt’ry gewgaws that sparkle and shimmy in the corners and the crooks
what charges your mystery
all that surging in the textual ocean and so finding that one piece that puzzlepieces into place
who pulls your hands apart
those times when the skull fringes out, feel those hands crumpling together, fingerflaws jittering, and she arrives
what turns your head
too many things, i’m sure, all gewgawed and spangled
who sings to you
all the birds in heaven, when i listen
who do you sing to
all, when that heart floats, and i can’t restrain that bursting, no matter that offkilter song
what do you think when a train goes by
halfsleep or walking? there’s a wall that keeps on trucking
who lives in your salad
dwarfs and caterwaulers
where does it go when you’re done with it
back inside that clearly labelled box
what plays with your mind
all the self-tugged electo-chemicals; cards and rattlers and dice; the chatter-spackle that fills the days and rain
who makes fun of you in the rain
the dryfolk who laugh at raindogs
what do you have on your toast
marmalade and all
what loves you
the whole wide wicked wide world
who dismisses you
when my tongue dangles, and loafs thick inside my head, words go *poof*: watch their eyes go away
what relies on you
the best of all my heart
who turns your head
the laughing ones
where does it turn
all aslant and contrariwise