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Comment So? (Score 1) 833

A country is spying? It's using it's embassies to spy? Countries without nuclear capability don't want their mutual neighbor to get its hands on nuclear weapons? How is anyone surprised by any of this? Clearly a report written by esteemed whistle blower Captain Obvious.
Music

RIAA Accounting — How Labels Avoid Paying Musicians 495

An anonymous reader writes "Last week, we discussed Techdirt's tale of 'Hollywood Accounting,' which showed how movies like Harry Potter still officially 'lose' money with some simple accounting tricks. This week Techdirt is taking on RIAA accounting and demonstrating why most musicians — even multi-platinum recording stars — may never see a dime from their album sales. 'They make you a "loan" and then take the first 63% of any dollar you make, get to automatically increase the size of the "loan" by simply adding in all sorts of crazy expenses (did the exec bring in pizza at the recording session? that gets added on), and then tries to get the loan repaid out of what meager pittance they've left for you. Oh, and after all of that, the record label still owns the copyrights.' The average musician on a major record deal 'gets' about $23 per $1,000 made... and that $23 still never gets paid because it has to go to 'recouping' the loan... even though the label is taking $630 out of that $1,000, and not counting it towards the advance. Remember all this the next time a record label says they're trying to protect musicians' revenue."

Comment Screw you, Agatha (Score 1) 210

You sent me off to Vault 92, but oh no, it wasn't that easy. I had to travel TO THE MIDDLE OF D.C. first. I had to break into a god damned super mutant fortress. Those bastards nearly shot my arm off! And don't forget about the droids! The Mr. Gutsies, the sentry bots, the robobrains, and the protectetrons. At least the robobrains had a cute voice. The lasers though, those weren't cute at all. Not at all. And then I got to the records, found the location of the vault, and had to bust my post-apocalyptic behind across the wretched wastes. And when I got there, was it all fun and games? Did I arrive to find some kind of chorus of angels, whose musical talent had been preserved in an underground fortress? Surprise! I fought bloatflies, mirelurks, and even a damn king. I got clawed at, magic mirelurk king circled at, and spat at, and it was very acidic spit, I'll have you know. Burned right through the vault wall. You wretched, old hag; I did all of that for one lousy violin that could be reproduced with some fungus? God damn you, woman. God damn you.

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