Archive for March, 2008

Fanboys Continue To Boggle Minds

Posted in Stupid Shit I Found On The Web on March 30, 2008 by themaroon

You know Apple is in a good position when you read articles like this one. Note the headline: Vista notebook falls in hacker challenge.

You see that and have to think the article is about how unsecure Vista is. Then you actually read the piece, and discover that during a contest a Vista laptop was actually the second one to fall victim to hackers. What fell first? A Macbook Air (due to a hole in Safari, an Apple product, which one would presume means all Macs are most likely vulnerable).

And how did they exploit Vista? They found a security flaw in Flash Player, Adobe’s nearly ubiquitous third party add-on. Flash, while on 90-some percent of PCs, isn’t produced by Microsoft and doesn’t come with Windows.

So, here’s what I imagine went through the writer’s head. “Ok, hackers had a contest, tried to hack a Mac, a Windows machine, and a laptop running Linux. On the second day, they hacked the Apple by exploiting some Apple software that comes loaded by default. On the third day they hacked the Windows laptop using a third party add-on that doesn’t come with the machine and has to be installed by a user. How do I title this one? Maybe ‘Windows Vista: Unsafe At Any Speed’? No, too sensationalist.”

Tech journalism at its finest here. The author or whoever else titled that article should be fired immediately for lack of journalistic integrity.

Hilarity

Posted in Stupid Shit I Found On The Web on March 29, 2008 by themaroon

Just too good not to share. From the Onion:

Guy Who Says ‘Previously On Heroes ‘ Wishes He Was Guy Who Says ‘Previously On Lost’

Favorite excerpt:

Cavanaugh, who landed his first big “Previously on” role during the short-lived CW program Veronica Mars, said he had struggled for years to make ends meet by doing freelance “To be continued” jobs and the occasional “Promotional consideration provided by” gig. But after landing a dream “Previously on” opportunity with the premiere of Heroes, Cavanaugh says there was no looking back.

Musicians Should Stick To Writing Music

Posted in Stupid Shit I Found On The Web on March 29, 2008 by themaroon

I know I’m a little late writing about this, but I’m going to anyway. A few days back Billy Bragg wrote an article in the New York Times opinion section called The Royalty Scam that made me wonder if the Gray Lady isn’t in need of a logic editor. Maybe someone whose job it is to sift through articles and remove all bad arguments.

Of course if they had such a thing, this article wouldn’t have much left other than the date and the name of the author, as everything in it is pretty much a steaming load of horse manure. The author, in record time, proved that he doesn’t understand how the music industry or social networks or startup investments typically work, or how capitalism functions in general.

In the article, Bragg posits that since Bebo has some music on its site (which was put there voluntarily by musicians who had signed an agreement saying they were owed nothing for it) and it sold to AOL for $850 million, the owner should be sending checks to them.

His logic had me laughing out loud:

The musicians who posted their work on Bebo.com are no different from investors in a start-up enterprise. Their investment is the content provided for free while the site has no liquid assets. Now that the business has reaped huge benefits, surely they deserve a dividend.

Yeah, lots of startup investors give companies money with no clear understanding of what’s in it for them. “Here’s a check for $5 million. Don’t worry about any paperwork. We’re sure you’ll take care of us if you hit a liquidity event.” I know a lot of founders and a lot of investors, and this just doesn’t happen. You might get the occasional “we’ll deal with the paperwork later” between good friends for a relatively small amount if one is in a pinch, but even that is extremely rare. Almost always there is a clear written contract detailing what each side is giving and what they are getting in return.

(As a side note, we at Draftmix are not really looking for much more investment now, but if anyone wants to fund us on these terms, email me. We’re always open for that. I can just see a term sheet that says nothing but “You give us money, and if we feel like it later, we’ll give you some back. k thx.” Maybe I’ll send that in to Sequoia through the contact link on their website.)

The musicians on Bebo were more like strategic partners. They posted their works there because they wanted the increased exposure that comes with it. They knew when they did it (assuming they read the agreement that they clicked ok to) that they wouldn’t get a red cent directly from the company, even if it sold for $850 trillion. But they hoped that the extra audience would make them some money in CD and ticket sales, and one would assume that for many, it did. That sort of thing built many careers recently. See Dane Cook.

He continues:

The claim that sites such as MySpace and Bebo are doing us a favor by promoting our work is disingenuous. Radio stations also promote our work, but they pay us a royalty that recognizes our contribution to their business. Why should that not apply to the Internet, too?

First of all, Bragg should Google for “payola”. Until fairly recently, record labels were paying radio stations more than they were getting in return for airing new music. Even when that became illegal, it was almost immediately routed through a third party, and business as usual resumed. In fact it still occurs to an unknown extent today, and where it doesn’t, it’s not because the labels wanted it to end, but rather due to radio stations wanting to avoid being prosecuted. So it would seem that free publicity is, in fact, a favor to artists, or at least they and their labels think so.

Also, royalties actually do apply to the internet. At least they do to internet radio stations and other sites that play music without strict agreements with the artists (usually through their labels) to the contrary. There’s a royalty rate for that, just like there is for terrestrial radio stations, and not paying it is just as much a crime for the operator as it is for Clear Channel.

The primary difference between Bebo and a radio station, online or off, is permission. The Foo Fighters didn’t upload their song to 100.7 WMMS and click a button agreeing that The Buzzard could play it for free. The radio stations just play whatever songs they wish, without the artist’s involvement, then pay the requisite amount (generally through ASCAP or BMI) as per applicable laws and agreements. It’s all agreed upon in advance.

Likewise, Bebo and its artists have an agreement that the musicians can upload any song they wish, and Bebo won’t pay them anything. So no, the artists are not owed any dividend. It really is that simple. Agreements are the backbone of capitalism. The whole system falls apart without them, which is why we have the legal system we do. You cannot simply expect Bebo to pay musicians who have digitally signed an agreement that they were owed nothing.

In less than one minute of searching (and note that this was the first time I had ever been to the website) I found this in Bebo’s Terms:

The license you grant to Bebo is non-exclusive (meaning you are free to license your Materials to anyone else in addition to Bebo), fully-paid and royalty-free (meaning that Bebo is not required to pay you for the use on the Bebo Service of the Materials that you post), sub licensable (so that Bebo is able to use its affiliates and subcontractors such as Internet and WAP content delivery networks to provide the Bebo Service), and worldwide (because the Internet and the Bebo Service are global in reach).

I’m certainly no IP lawyer, but I’m pretty sure that that means that if I post a song on Bebo, I’m not getting paid for it.

Bragg’s idea that musicians who contribute to a site should acquire a stake in it becomes even scarier when you apply it to other forms of intellectual property. For instance, Facebook and Myspace are full of writings and photographs submitted by their users. Are those any less valid or deserving of royalties than music? They aren’t in the real world. You can’t legally go around selling bootleg copies of Harry Potter any more than you can Abbey Road or Moon and Half Dome. Did the YouTube founders owe LonelyGirl16 a check when Google bought them?

Let’s apply his silly logic to me. My blog entries and comments have probably created tens or even hundreds of thousands of clicks and page views for Hacker News. Hacker News is owned by Y Combinator, which invested in and therefore owned a portion of Auctomatic, which just sold for $5 million. (By the way, congrats on that guys!). By Bragg’s logic, PG owes me a check.

Social networks, and all websites that host user generated content for that matter, exist only because people are allowed to sign agreements giving away their intellectual property.

Technology is advancing far too quickly for the old safeguards of intellectual property rights to keep up, and while we wait for the technical fixes to emerge, those of us who want to explore the opportunities the Internet offers need to establish a set of ground rules that give us the power to decide how our music is exploited and by whom.

Those ground rules already exist. They’re called user agreements. Bebo forces you to agree to one before you sign up, and when you do so, you are deciding how your music is exploited by Bebo. Don’t like the terms? Don’t sign up. It’s that simple.

It’s unreasonable to expect some sort of law governing user agreements in that way, given that the market can clearly regulate them. If Billy Bragg thinks the terms are unfair, he can start his own social network that pays royalties. If that works out, the market will have decided that social network user agreements should involve royalties to musicians. None of the ones that don’t pay royalties can seem to turn a profit though, even with billions of page views, so I don’t like his odds.

We need to do this not for the established artists who already have lawyers, managers and careers, but for the fledgling songwriters and musicians posting original material onto the Web tonight. The first legal agreement that they enter into as artists will occur when they click to accept the terms and conditions of the site that will host their music. Worryingly, no one is looking out for them.

So essentially what he wants are lawyers and agents for struggling musicians. Or maybe some sort of union/approval body that warned them when a deal was beneficial for them and when it wasn’t. Both are fine ideas, and probably a good solution to what might become a real problem. But expecting Bebo to pay artists who agreed they were owed nothing is not only anti-capitalist, it threatens the future of the entire modern internet. Thankfully for those of us in the business, he hasn’t got a legal leg to stand on.

Eulogies

Posted in Stupid Shit I Found On The Web on March 21, 2008 by themaroon

One weird side effect of the human intellect, seemingly brought on by our fear of our own mortality, is the tendency to eulogize people after they die. A recent case in point is science fiction writer Arthur C. Clarke. Here‘s a classic example.

I can’t say I’m an Arthur C. Clarke fan. I don’t have anything against him. I liked the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey quite a bit (as with most Kubrick films) which I know he collaborated on, after writing the short story that inspired it. But I’ve never read any of his work.

In fact, I don’t like science fiction in general. I find that like most niche genres, it’s inhabited mainly by poor writers who use their domain knowledge to cater to an otherwise ignored audience, which in the case of sci-fi and fantasy, are geeks. It’s works on pretty much the same principle as XKCD. There are, of course, a few good writers in the genre (and every genre for that matter) but for the most part, the quality is pretty poor, and though I love science, my loathing of hacky writing prevents me from enjoying most of the fiction written about it.

So I don’t really have an opinion on Clarke specifically, because I haven’t read him. But upon reading the eulogy… err… article I smelled a rat. Especially when I hit the following statement:

Without him, it’s safe to say that there would be no direct TV, no satellite-routed ship-to-shore phone calls, and no global navigation systems.

I couldn’t imagine exactly how it could be “safe to say” anything so broad and sweeping. It’s later explained:

During World War II, when he was a young officer in the Royal Air Force in Britain, Clarke first thought of geostationary satellites as communications tools. Geostationary satellites are satellites whose orbital periods match the Earth’s rotation. In 1945, Clarke proposed that geostationary satellites would be ideal telecommunications relays. They have since revolutionized communications and weather forecasting.

Curious, I did 5 seconds of research, something the author of this abysmal story apparently couldn’t be bothered with, and discovered that geosynchronous satellites were dreamed up 17 years before Clarke wrote about them in 1928 by Herman Potočnik.

So in the history of the satellite, you have the guy who thought it up, the guy who wrote about it in a short story almost two decades later, and the guys at NASA who made it happen almost two more decades after that. And who, out of those three people/groups, is it “safe to say that there would be no direct TV, no satellite-routed ship-to-shore phone calls, and no global navigation systems” without? The one who just died, of course.

The article then goes on, like every other written about Clarke since he died, to talk about what a great predictor of technology he was. It points out all of the wonderful ideas he predicted would come to fruition that later did. And viewed without context, it’s not an unimpressive list.

But it glosses over the fact that he was a sci-fi writer. Making tech predictions is what they do for a living. The overall number that turn out correct isn’t impressive, it’s the percentage relative to his peers. Is there a long list of predictions Clarke made that didn’t pan out? I bet there is. And if you added up both categories, was he any better of a futurist than others of his time? I don’t know, because nobody bothered. It’s certainly possible he was, but also possible that he wasn’t.

But who would ask such a question about a guy who just passed away? That seems downright rude, given that it might not be 100% positive. So instead we focus only on the things he got right, entirely out of context. The things he “invented” that someone else did in reality. The things he predicted that came true without the things that didn’t.

Which I don’t understand, because if you read Clarke’s Wikipedia entry, the life he really lived is impressive enough. Doctoring it with inaccuracies for the sake of making him look better is insulting to Clarke, who doesn’t need the help, insulting to the people who really invented satellites and put them in orbit, and insulting to the many other science fiction writers who made predictions similar to his.

Why Not To Do A Startup

Posted in Startup on March 19, 2008 by themaroon

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about startups lately, and I’ve come to realize that they’re really not for most people, probably even most people who attempt them. All of the guys who are and should be doing startups write about how great they are, but I feel like the opposing viewpoint is largely glossed over. So, always the contrarian, here is why you might not want to start a startup.

For one, the mainstream media focuses almost exclusively on the outlying startups that work out extremely well. Almost every startup-related article you read in Wired or The New York Times is about some guy who started a free dating service, worked 10 hours a week on it for a year, and now collects millions from Google ads, or some 14 year old trailer-dweller who grew her MySpace layouts website into a million page views a week.

Even in Y Combinator you have a few examples of companies that went from conception to acquisition in under a year. Those happen, and your odds of that are probably far better than winning the lottery, but it’s still highly unlikely. It’s on the order of a few percent, and that’s with the YC advantage. Without it’s clearly a longshot. And just like the lottery, everyone thinks their chances are better than they really are.

In reality, startups are a lot of work over a relatively long period of time. Your most likely experience starts with 6 months to a year of working with no salary, trying to simultaneously build a product and raise some funding. Eventually you get a small angel round, which means a paycheck and some breathing room, but you’re still getting paid less than guys who break rocks with other rocks while everyone you still talk to from your business or CS program is making a six figure salary with full health and dental.

If your startup does well, you have years more of this to look forward to. Your user base grows slowly but steadily, your product improves, the competition is always nipping at your heels but never quite catches up because you’re that much better than them. Google either doesn’t release a competitor or they do and it’s more like Orkut and less like Google Maps. The self-perpetuating cycle kicks in, and you keep getting better and better, and users love you more and more.

You go through a few more funding cycles, each of which is hair-raising and takes a few years off of your life due to the stress. And after 5-7 years, you get acquired for a bundle, or if you’re really hot, maybe you IPO instead, and the 5% of the company you still own is worth so much that you’re free to sun yourself on a beach for the rest of your life if you choose.

Of course by that time, you’re 30 years old, and you’re still single because you were working 80 hours per week for the last 7 years, making any meaningful relationship impossible. You probably lost contact with most of your friends, but even if you didn’t, making an obscene amount of money tends to put a strain on relationships between you and those who didn’t. You think going in that that won’t happen to you, but it always does.

So all of the friends you have left are startup people too, but now you even have to question your relationship with those who haven’t made it yet. You’re naïve at first and think you don’t, but then the requests for funding or acquisitions or introductions start pouring in, to the point where you can’t just go grab a beer anymore without it turning into a business meeting. You’re in the club and they aren’t, and though it’s never spoken of, that dynamic is pervasive in every facet of life. From sports to poker to music to finance to acting to startups, you name the industry, and I’ll show you the bright red line separating those who’ve “made it” from those who haven’t.

So rather than buying a nice house in Hawaii and raising a family, or travelling the world with the friends you don’t have any more, what do you do? You dive right back into another startup. And if that one works out similarly well, maybe 5 years later you do it again, or maybe instead you decide to take it easy because your doctor told you that you won’t make it to 50 otherwise. So you move into angel investing or venture capital, but even that turns out to be more work and more stress than you thought going in. It doesn’t matter too much though, you’ve never bothered yourself with things like work-life balance before, so why start now? At least this time you’ve got the extra 10 hours a week needed to pick up a trophy wife and have two kids whose ballgames and ballet recitals you’ll miss until you finally retire, three years after they go off to college on your dime, only to be seen again around Christmas for the rest of their lives.

And all of that is more or less best case scenario. Meanwhile your friends from MIT went off to Google, worked 50 hours a week, got married, had kids whose ballgames and ballet recitals (well, they’re a Google employee, so maybe it’s more like chess matches and, well, chess matches, but you get the point) they had time to watch, vacationed every year on that same island in Hawaii where you would have bought a house if you weren’t too busy to, and saved up a pretty good amount of money while they were at it. They don’t have the tens or maybe even hundreds of millions of dollars that you do, but they’ve got one or two. Just enough that any more wouldn’t make them significantly happier anyway. They’ll get a summer home in Montana, or wherever else is fashionable at the time, and retire at 50 to spend their time with their grandkids.

And don’t forget, this is all if your startup succeeds. PG hopes that Y Combinator will provide enough value through guidance, connections, etc., that one day 50% of the companies they fund will succeed. That’s a lofty goal, but even if he succeeds at it, and I’ll be seriously impressed if he does, that means there’s a 50% chance your startup will fail, and you’ve burned two of the best years of your life. That’s if you were lucky enough to get selected by YC. And if you didn’t (which most startups don’t) your odds have to be significantly worse.

It wasn’t a total waste, of course, as it probably makes you more employable amongst other startups, but it’s not as valuable as just working for one for two years would have been, and you’re a hell of a lot poorer for it. And you’ve spent just enough time working for yourself that the thought of having a project manager telling you what to do with your time makes your stomach churn.

There are a number of people floating around the Valley whose lives are a pretty sad story. Every startup they joined tanked, every one they passed on went public. They went without salary for years, and even when they had one, it was pretty low. They’re 50, which in the startup world, where the saying “never fund anyone over 30″ is a practically a way of life, is ancient, and they’ve got nothing to show for it.

Even sadder are the people whose startups succeeded but still aren’t happy, because they never learned that there is more to life than making money. They’ve fallen too far into the “keeping up with the Joneses” mentality, which is extra tough because in their neighborhood the Joneses are really the Jobses. That’s easy to do in Silicon Valley, maybe easier than anywhere else in the entire world.

But I don’t think that’s the biggest problem with startups, because it’s easy enough to just opt out. There are certainly guys who run one startup, cash out, and then move on. Nobody’s putting a gun to your head and forcing you to do it again, though if you looked at the recidivism rates you wouldn’t think that. The problem is the variance. Startups tend to be fairly binary, with you making either a very large amount off of them or nothing at all. In terms of mathematical expectation, the successes are certainly large enough to make them worth it on average. But when you count in the diminishing marginal utility of money, especially as related to happiness (does $10 million in the bank make one significantly happier than $5 million? What about $100 million?) you come to realize that maybe your EV isn’t so high. In fact, if you count every success as the $2 or $3 million that is really all you need, even the ones where you make a billion, maybe it’s less than just working a job.

Don’t get me wrong there are a ton of benefits to startups other than the money, and they’re written about extensively. Working for yourself is, for many people, the only way to go. I’m one of those. And some people would never find a good work-life balance even if they worked at Taco Bell, and they might as well at least try to make a bundle. So I’m not trying to say that nobody should do a startup. Like all sweeping generalizations that wouldn’t be accurate. I’m just saying that you should think long and hard about what you really want beforehand, because it will save you (and maybe your cofounders) from a lot of heartache when you figure it out later, if you’re lucky enough to do so.

Greatest Review of All Time

Posted in Illiterature on March 17, 2008 by themaroon

I just read the best review I’ve ever seen. And that says a lot, because even if I only read one review per item I’ve purchased from Amazon, I’d still probably be in the top one-tenth of one percent of people in terms of quantity. It was for The Da Vinci Code on Amazon, and here it is:

Seventy pages into Dan Brown’s surprisingly putdownable potboiler, the inevitably green-eyed, French-accented code cracker Sophie Neveu sighs, “This is not American television, Mr Langdon.” Oh, Sophie, if only that were true. You know a book owes too much to the screen when an albino assassin appears on the very first page, and rather than taking the time to construct an original variant on the intelligent-action-man hero you’re simply instructed to think of Harrison Ford – in tweed. This is a movie, pure and simple: a thinly plotted, strongly visual, mildly entertaining Hollywood chase movie about cardboard characters (replete with sappy childhood flashbacks) and with enough Opus Dei-bashing to make it a fast-acting antidote to “The Passion of the Christ.” Crammed full of supposedly arcane revelations about mathematics, religion, symbolism and art – most of which read like verbatim downloads from Google – the “intellectual” content won’t be dazzling or new (forget accurate) to anyone even slightly inquisitive about these topics. Worse, it’s presented with a juvenile fascination for “connections” that would embarrass the most seasoned New Age charlatan. It all moves at a cracking pace, of course, and has enough scope and colour to hold your rapt attention for a few winter nights, and enough Catholic conspiracy theory to warm the heart of an atheist. But it’s so devoid of literary merit, so apparently committed to the squandering of every opportunity to do anything interesting with the material – rather than just ape the narrative grammar of cinema – that it truly beggars belief. The characters are just names on the page, huge swathes of deadpan “I’m glad you asked”-style exposition pad out the clunky plot shifts, and because it’s all so closely modeled on the rhythms of Hollywood nothing ever comes as a surprise – not a word, not an image, not a moment. This is post-literate prose at its direst, plugging directly into pre-fabricated scenarios, characters and images, absolving the reader of the need to imagine anything – which is why it’s such a famously easy read. This is reality as a simulacrum of television, a copy of a copy, and about as convincing. It’s an odd stylistic choice in a novel which takes as its theme the notion that great art depicts truths which evil empires would suppress. My advice? Save your time, and wait for the movie, i.e. wait until this story is presented in its natural form. I’m actually really looking forward to it. Seriously. I quite like the story, I just dislike the way it’s presented here. It’s fundamentally a puerile novel, but as a Hollywood movie I’m sure I’ll be tickled by it. In the mean time, if you want to read the kind of novel this purports to be, get yourself a copy of Umberto Eco’s “The Name of the Rose” or, better yet, “Foucault’s Pendulum”. If those don’t grab you, at the very least try Donna Tartt’s “The Secret History” – nothing to do with the Grail, but it’s certainly more deserving of the “intelligent thriller” label than this. Is there really nothing better to be said for “The Da Vinci Code”, as novel? Sadly, I’m with Harrison – I mean Robert: “Langdon considered it a moment, then groaned.” (p.93)

I wonder if he reviewed the movie. I heard it managed to somehow be worse than the book.

Analogy That I'm Proud Of

Posted in Dialogue on March 5, 2008 by themaroon

The off-strip casinos are like a fat girl. They’re just so grateful when you pay attention to them that they’ll give you pretty much anything.