1982.

An unidentified studio apartment, which may or may not have a hot-rod parked out front.

Three guys with facial hair of varying severity occupy the cluttered room. One of them has an electric guitar on his lap.

“Try this out.”

A blistering riff sallies forth.

Gimme all your lovin’ da da da da da da da.

“Solid. Sure.”

“More like that.”

Gimme all your lovin’, don’t let up until we’re through.

“That’s just about a wrap. Let’s flesh it out a bit.”

Gimme all your lovin’, all your hugs and kisses too,

“That sucks, man.”

“You got anything better? Then shut up and let me rock this bit.”

Gimme all your lovin’, all your hugs and kisses too,
Gimme all your lovin’, don’t let up until we’re through,

“It’ll do until we can rework it. Is that a verse or a chorus?”

“If we make it the chorus, we’re halfway done.”

“Let’s continue the theme:”

I’ve got to have a shot of what you got, it’s oh so sweet.

“Nice touch with the shot from the guitar there too.”

You got to make it hot, na na na na na na na na na na.

“Just about there.”

“How about Like a boomerang I need a repeat?“

“You’re kidding.”

“Or Would you like to massage my feet?“

“Let’s go with the boomerang.”

“Why do these things have to be so wordy?”

“Focus. We’re two verses from done.”

You got to whip it up and hit me like a ton of lead,
If I blow my top will you let it go to your head?

“You can come up with that, but not something better than Like a boomerang I need a repeat?”

“Don’t make me come over there.”

“Let’s wrap it up with You got to move it up and use it like a schoolboy would.“

“I haven’t the faintest clue what that means.”

“Sounds dirty.”

“What do you do after you move it up?”

“Pack it up and go home?”

“Doesn’t rhyme.”

“Work it like a new boy should.”

“Who could argue with that?”

“That makes less sense than the boomerang.”

“We can either argue about this, or call it done and go for barbecue.”

“I could eat.”

And that’s how I picture ZZ Top penning the greatest rock ‘n’ roll song of all time:

I’ve got to have a shot — of what you got, it’s oh so sweet.
You got to make it hot, like a boomerang I need a repeat.

Gimme all your lovin’, all your hugs and kisses too,
Gimme all your lovin’, don’t let up until we’re through.

You got to whip it up and hit me like a ton of lead,
If I blow my top will you let it go to your head?

Gimme all your lovin’, all your hugs and kisses too,
Gimme all your lovin’, don’t let up until we’re through.

You got to move it up and use it like a schoolboy would.
You got to pack it up, work it like a new boy should.

Gimme all your lovin’, all your hugs and kisses too,
Gimme all your lovin’, don’t let up until we’re through,

Office of the Prime Minister
80 Wellington Street
Ottawa K1A 0A2

cc: Hon. Jim Prentice, http://pintday.org/archive/20080805

Mr. Harper;

I have written you before on the subject of Bill C-61—explaining how the bill will cause cultural contributions to be lost to future generations, and how the bill allows content creators to opt-out of their obligations under copyright law. Today I’d like to give another example of how Bill C-61 can be considered harmful: it will criminalize the act of running open-source software.

When I’m not trying to finish my Ph.D, I write software for a Calgary-based project called OpenBSD. It’s a volunteer thing, and like all volunteer activities, I don’t do this because I expect to make any money out of it. I do it because I believe in the project and its goals.

If you’re not familiar with it, allow me to give you some background: OpenBSD is a Unix-based operating system—in other words, it’s the software that runs your computer—like Windows. Unlike Windows, however, OpenBSD is completely free. Not only can you obtain and run the software for free, you are free to modify it. As a computer engineer, the ability to tinker with my computer at all levels holds great appeal for me. That’s why I’m involved with the OpenBSD project. That’s why I like the notion of open source.

You may be wondering what any of this has to do with copyright. The point is very simple. The proposed changes contained in Bill C-61 make it illegal for me to watch a DVD (which I have legitimately purchased) on my laptop.

The reason is as follows. DVDs contain a simple form of protection called CSS (Content Scrambling System). CSS is an encryption algorithm—the data on the disc is scrambled using a secret key. Only people in possession of that key can unscramble the content and watch the disc. Of course, you don’t have to type a key into your DVD player every time you want to watch an episode of Lost. This key is embedded into the player itself.

The problem with this type of protection is that it is utterly incompatible with an open-source Operating System. In such a system, I can see how things work. Thus, in such a system, I am able to read a copy of the secret key used to encrypt DVDs. This means I can decrypt the content on the DVD. Of course, the software would have to do this anyway—that’s the only way to get the encrypted bits from the disc to your TV—the difference is that I can choose to do something else with the program. i could change it to make a copy of the decrypted DVD.

Bill C-61 makes it a crime to descramble scrambled content without the copyright holder’s permission. Furthermore, Bill C-61 makes it a crime to distribute any tool which can be used to remove or alter Technological Protection Measures. Since my laptop runs open source software, and open source DVD-playing software can be used to build DVD-copying software, then the software I would need to use to watch a DVD is a tool—a criminal tool at that. Distributing such a tool is prohibited by Section 41 of the proposed act.

And presumably, since the tool itself is prohibited, so is my using it—even to watch a legally purchased DVD on my legally purchased laptop. I have no protection under the proposed Bill, as removing a technological protection—even simply to watch my DVD—is a prohibited act, and is not subject to the $500 damages cap that is so often touted by supporters of this Bill.

Mr. Harper, I cannot support a Bill which criminalizes the very act of watching a movie that I own on my own personal laptop. I cannot support a Bill which considers my computer to be a criminal tool, simply because I have the ability to modify the software that runs on it. I cannot support a bill which criminalizes the same act for all the developers who produce open-source operating systems in Canada. I cannot, Mr. Harper, and I don’t believe you should either.

Please kill Bill C-61.

Sincerely,

I used to ride early with my wife, when there was a greater chane of grabbing two contigious seats. Now that we have dissimilar Eloise-care windows, I ride a later bus, which I share with Jr.- and High-school students destined for Woodman and Wisewood, and my alma matter headed for Elboya and Western. Afternoons I join the return shift with a cadre of regulars: yuppies, burnouts, football tryouts, fat ladies and punks.

Many of us have iPods. I’m on to my second Shuffle, the first expiring through use and diurnal abuse.

I have no idea how many people I’ve ridden with, but right now I can count a seated capacity of about 45 (These buses have a disturbing variability.) Often they are full, the bus population rotating like a Stampede midway ride. It is not unusual however, for a bus to just about empty out on the ride home.

Suffice to estimate that I have shared the 3 with thousands of different people, and many of them I have observed numerous times.

I have watched riders talk, argue, swoom, whisper, giggle, swear, gossip, philosophize and mumble. I have seen them read, phone, txt, ogle, sleep glare, fume, vegetate and study. Some are agitated. Some are bored. Some are suspicious, determined, vapid.

We all have our ways of passing the time in our diesel capsule.

I’m the only one I’ve ever seen write. Ever.

Please don’t misinterpret my observation. Writing isn’t the only way to create. However, apart from the occasional productive daydream or snippy txt, writing is about the only way to create on a bus.

In the midst of all the consumption—of diesel, of news, of pop trends—why not create?

I’m not so vain as to believe I’m the only one who has something that needs writing out, but sometimes it feels a little desolate around here.

Office of the Prime Minister
80 Wellington Street
Ottawa K1A 0A2

cc: Hon. Jim Prentice, http://pintday.org/archive/20080715

Mr. Harper;

I had another run-in with Bill C-61 today. I was searching for a particular article in a well-respected journal, doing mathematical research for my PhD. Initially, I was pleased to find the article available online—interlibrary loans are error-prone and slow. When I clicked on the article, however, I was greeted with the following message:

Your use of the (censored) Archive indicates your acceptance of (censored)’s Terms and Conditions of Use and Privacy Policy, available at http://www.(censored).org/about/terms.html and http://www.(censored).org/about/privacy.html. (censored)’s Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and you may use content in the (censored) archive only for personal, non-commercial use.

It so happens that this particular journal was published in 1884—and hence had long since entered into the public domain. The archive site, however, makes no distinction between public domain works—works that can be freely used for any purpose—and articles that were written yesterday. Under current copyright law, this little disclaimer would have no meaning—public domain is public domain. Under Bill C-61, however, the story is considerably different.

Bill C-61—specifically, paragraph 29.21(2)—not only affirms that these licenses are binding contracts, but goes as far as to declare that these licenses supersede copyright law. In other words, journal publishers and archivers can opt-out of copyright law entirely, simply by placing a few words on a web page.

Consumers, of course, have no such option. There is no web site we can write on to eliminate an author’s rights.

This is not simply about the public domain, Mr. Harper. Allowing contracts to supersede the rights granted to consumers under the copyright act utterly destroys any balance present in the existing act. Publishers can and will opt out of Fair Dealing. This is not a hypothetical. This very license notice is proof of that. The notion of Fair Dealing is utterly essential for academics, critics, journalists, and others. It is one of the fundamental trade-offs in the granting of this limited monopoly on expression.

Mr. Harper, please don’t let Bill C-61 destroy the delicate balance of copyright. Fair Dealing and the public domain are essential components of the existing Act, and have been since the notion of copyright was first developed. Allowing contracts to trump these notions defeats the whole purpose. Consumers can’t opt-out of copyright. Producers shouldn’t be able to either.

Yours Truly,

Office of the Prime Minister
80 Wellington Street
Ottawa K1A 0A2

cc: Hon. Jim Prentice, http://pintday.org/archive/20080708

Mr. Harper;

I was listening to one of my favourite albums the other day: Color me Psycho’s Pretend I’m Your Father. I don’t expect that you’ve heard of it. Color me Psycho was a short-lived Calgary band that played in and around the city in the mid to late 80s. As such, they only ever released two albums: a 10-song cassette called Kiss Me, Then Color Me Psycho, and the aforementioned LP (yes, an actual record!).

It took me almost 20 years of looking to find a copy of Pretend I’m your Father. By the time I realized I wanted it, it was long out of print, and the band was long gone. Furthermore, there was simply no demand to have the record reissued. Apparently, all of the true fans already had a copy. By the time I did acquire a copy, (a surprising transaction resulting from an Internet plea for assistance) I no longer owned the technology to play it. I gave away my last record player in 1994. As a result, I had to resort to some format shifting to get the songs into a format that I could actually listen to (and preserve, since the original LP is prone to scratching).

Pretend I’m your Father is a piece of Canadian culture. A very small piece, certainly, but in my opinion, culture is made up of small pieces. Unfortunately, if Bill C-61 passes, then this story will have a very different ending for the next generation.

In a post C-61 world, I would be a criminal. If we accept the premise that online delivery of content is indeed the future (as the success of iTunes and the other online retailers would seem to bear out) music is increasingly purchased online. This music is protected by Digital Rights Management, and hence, format shifting is prohibited (sec 29.21(c) unless I am a library (sec 30.1(1)(c)). Even if physical albums were to somehow make a resurgence, I would expect that like DVDs, Blu-Ray discs, and other next-generation media, DRM would necessarily be included. Worse, my format shifting would not be subjected to the $500 statutory damage cap. Because format shifting involves removing DRM, damages are explicitly unlimited by the proposed bill (sec 38.1(1.4)).

It gets worse. Even though a library could, in theory, archive every song produced by Canadian artists from now until eternity, content producers can exclude even this exemption simply by including the relevant language in a click-through license (sec 29.21(2)). Bill C-61 gives contracts priority over copyright law. This means content producers can opt out of copyright law entirely, should they choose. Mr. Harper, this hardly constitutes a balance between the needs of content producers and consumers.

Mr. Harper, a post C-61 world will require that we all repurchase our music and movie collections whenever formats change. As evidenced by my love of a certain Calgarian ex-band, not all music will be reissued in these new formats. As a consequence, these contributions to our cultural mosaic will be lost forever—victims of a future format war. As fewer and fewer physical copies of albums are sold, this loss will become more pronounced.

I like Canadian culture, Mr. Harper, and I like my Calgary bands. I hope my kids do, too. Don’t let Bill C-61 eviscerate the next generation of music collections.

Yours Truly,

Office of the Prime Minister
80 Wellington Street
Ottawa K1A 0A2

cc: Hon. Jim Prentice, http://pintday.org/archive/20080701

Mr. Harper:

I am writing you, my Member of Parliament, to proffer my strenuous objections to Bill C-61, recently introduced by the Honourable Jim Prentice.

First, allow me to offer some background about myself: My name is Kjell Wooding. I’m the co-editor of the weekly serial pintday.org (ISSN 1703-5511). I am an academic (a Ph.D. candidate at present). I am a Computer Engineer and Entrepreneur. Intellectual property—both the production and the consumption of—is very important to me in all of these endeavors.

Mr. Harper, I believe in the notion of copyright, as a limited and balanced trade-off between the producers and consumers of content. If you will forgive the reference to another country’s laws, I find the purpose of copyright to be most succinctly stated in the United States Constitution; i.e.

“to promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries.”

My objection to Bill C-61 is very simple. I believe the delicate tradeoff between the needs of content producers and consumers is utterly devastated by the language in the new bill—specifically, the language around technological measures and rights management information, colloquially referred to as Digital Rights Management (DRM). I have heard the talking points on both sides of this issue, Mr. Harper, and I think the easiest way to illustrate why I believe the needs of the content consumer have been gutted is through example. That is why I have decided to write this letter in a number of parts.

For each of the next few weeks, I will be detailing numerous examples of how the proposed bill adversely affects the rights of the Canadian content consumer, the needs of the academic researcher, the security of the average Canadian consumer, and the preservation and well-being of Canadian Culture as a whole. I do not believe I am going too far in making these claims, as I hope the my subsequent communications will make clear.

Thank-you for you continued attention and patience in this matter. I look forward to communicating with you over the next few weeks. I hope by the end you and your party will agree that Bill C-61 will do more damage than good in its current form.

Yours Truly,

Intern Architects in Hell, and its predecessor, Architecture Students in Hell, are meant to be lighthearted satire, occasionally poignant. Pointing an observant finger at the guilty and mocking those things that stand out as ridiculous is the bailiwick of the cartoonist. It is a necessary function. It is not acceptable, however, if the In Hell suffix lends a degree of self-pity or woe to the work.

Unlike medicine, architecture is not a profession in which lives are at stake. Unlike dentistry, architecture cannot even realize a toothache for a client. Big dollars are at stake—which is a serious responsibility—but ultimately an engineer’s stamp ensures the drawings are safe. An architect’s concern is practicality, accessibility, and beauty.

Getting paid to draw, that’s a pretty good job.

Turning those drawings into buildings takes determination (stubbornness), finesse (deceit), courage (grandstanding) and a rock solid faith that what we are doing is right. Demonstrably, the process practically satirizes itself.

Effective immediately I am changing the name of the series to Archimatects. Any branding or name recognition attributable to Intern Architects in Hell and Architecture Students in Hell is simply not worth the constant reminder.

One doesn’t have to be religious to think about hell. If we define hell as the absence of love, then in a very real sense Mr. Lall—or that lone, isolated, psychotic part of him—is in hell right now and forevermore.

There are Canadians—and I am one of them—who would happily exchange our crummy national anthem for a rousing rendition of Hockey Night. Imagine: stadia packed with sports fans intoning da da da da DA.

Let me amend the Coke analogy. It’s like Coke changing the formula when the only thing everyone in the country had in common was their love of that recipe.

In the early nineties, at the height of Canada’s 125th birthday celebrations, the country was twisting through a fit of self-examination. What did it mean to be Canadian? What was our identity? What defined us as a nation?

In recent years there has not been so much hand-wringing and navel-gazing, because we’ve generally made peace with the reality that hockey is the warp and weft of Canadian-ness.

The Hockey Night in Canada theme song is not the game. It is, however, shorthand for the game. As a symbol to Canadians, it is more important than beavers, Mounties, and—for those of us who live in parts of the country where the damn thing doesn’t grow—the maple leaf.

Picture the Catholic church deciding not to re-license Christmas.

There are not words to describe the stupidity of CBC’s mistake. Future generations however, when they sit down on a Saturday night to ritually watch another installment of the Battle of Alberta can reflect on the generations-long series of blunders that lead to the eagerly-anticipated demise of the CBC.

Bravo to TSN for jumping on the opportunity of a nation.

Pub Night with UTI!

Stifling the urge to giggle (or pee), I read further:

“Come celebrate spring with the UTI. Join us for a beverage, nibblies and get to know the UTI team.”

I assume those beverages are cranberry juice. Thoroughly bemused, I go looking for some clue as to what kind of cruel beings force UTI-sufferers to drink more beverages. Like undergrads everywhere, I find my answer on the internet:

University Technologies International (UTI) is dedicated to the pursuit of excellence in technology commercialization, creating business opportunities from scientific innovation. We are recognized internationally for our expertise and success in protecting, marketing and commercializing technology and innovation.

Put in clearer terms, UTI is the organization that will assist me, the clueless academic, to market my intellectual property to the Real World™. In short, they are Ivory Tower marketing experts, bridging the gulf between the helpless researchers and the powerful industrialists.

Even this clueless academic knows not to name a marketing organization after a well-known, irritating, and occasionally embarrassing class of infections.

I think I’ll market my own research, thank-you.

There are now 44 of the insidious devices throughout the city, patiently monitoring our progress through intersections, occasionally snapping a photo of the odd transgressor who made one of two fateful determinations:

“I cannot safely stop before this amber light.”

Or:

“Bugger that!”

The difference between the two is not salient, as the technology provides us with notional fodder for the following chilling exchange:

“How do you know he’s guilty?”

“The computer told me so.”

Does anyone remember the vote we must have held, introducing this level of surveillance? Perhaps not, as this is simply a case of the constabulary extending its reach wherever it can, and a genetically acquiescent population agreeing to its inevitability.

The next step will be to monitor speed through the intersections.

“If you’re not breaking the law, you have nothing to hide.”

Following that, we will see perpetual plate-monitoring through intersections, introduced to facilitate quick responses to AMBER Alerts.

And I can’t even argue that one.

This battle is lost.

/

This is the symbol you have been using your whole life as a date separator (2008/04/29), a fraction indicator (1/2), for phrases like and/or, a division sign (2/4 = 0.5) and, most recently, URLs. Slashes are important. Resist the urge to call them forward slashes. There is only one that matters, and it is a slash.

This is a backslash:

\

You probably have no idea what this is for. Nor should you. Mathematicians sometimes use it to indicate set difference. Scientific writers use it in their TeX markup. Microsoft chose it to be the path separator in filenames. If you are not writing scientific literature or implementing CIFS filesystems, ban the word backslash from your vocabulary now.

Most importantly, for the love of baby Jebus, do not get on my radio and start reading out URLs like this:

Visit us a h-t-t-p-colon-backslash-backslash-w-w-w-dot…

First, it’s not a backslash. You may as well be calling it a semicolon or an asterisk.

Second, please stop saying h-t-t-p-colon. We know. The browser knows. Let it go.

Finally, and this is a plea to the nerds in the room, please stop using www in every freakin’ web address. You can usually get along without it.

Don’t believe me? Go up to the location bar in your browser right now and type this: pintday.org. No www. No http://. Just type it. I’ll wait.

There. Isn’t that better?

Next week’s lesson: adverbs—use them proper.

¹ Okay. Technically it’s a solidus.