The Null Device
2001/11/19
Meanwhile, while we're on the subject of prematurely dead cool people and the meaning of life, the universe and everything, there may be a sixth Hitchhikers Guide novel, to be titled The Salmon of Doubt, and assembled from files found on Douglas Adams' Macintosh. Assuming that they can put something together from all the motley files and edits. (via Slashdot)
A small amount of good news. Recently, "alternative" pop star and former Neighbours starlet Natalie Imbruglia was the first artist to release a copy-protected CD which didn't work with (most) computers (or DVD players or some CD players). Not because she's a firm believer in the rightness of the War On Copying, mind you, but because her corporate owners/operators at BMG are, and chose her new album as the début of their new technology. Their bet that only a small, easily dismissable minority of hardcore Napatistas would complain didn't pan out however, and after mass returns of the CDs, BMG have backed down, and are offering to exchange the CDs for unprotected ones. Of course, the war isn't won yet; but at least it's not lost.
And Justice for All: Those impartial guardians of fairness, the World Intellectual Property Organisation have issued a ruling, handing vivendiuniversalsucks.com to Vivendi Universal (yes, the media behemoth), on the grounds that consumers could reasonably expect it to be an official Vivendi Universal site and get terribly confused. (The Vivendi Universal Sucks page, btw, is here.)
Meanwhile, in the US, the Department of Justice has been swiftly and harshly prosecuting anthrax hoaxers -- except for those targetting Planned Parenthood offices; the Attorney-General, a devout Christian Fundamentalist and sworn enemy of the evil commie abortionists and sex-educators/cattle-mutilators, apparently considers those to be harmless practical jokes. (via Slashdot, 1.0)
How was my weekend, you ask? Well, for one thing it was short, given that I spent all of Saturday at work (really onerous deadlines and everything; still, that's the price one pays for having more time slack during the rest of the year). So my weekend was basically Sunday.
What did I do? Well, I slept, ran a few errands, went to the laundrette,
and tidied up the disks on my Linux box a bit. Not much creative or
exciting. Oh, and I made myself Afghani Chicken Enduring Freedom Chicken for dinner.
It also looks like I'm coming down with a slight case of existential angst again. (And I thought I left it behind forever; you'd think it'd be something like glandular fever, which only troubles you in adolescence, but no.) Reading about the absurdly premature death of Charlotte Coleman probably brought it to a head, as if underscoring the capriciousness and ultimate meaninglessness of fate and the universe, and the fleetingness of everything.
Urk. Stop me before I start listening to Depeche Mode again.