“Game of Thrones” Piracy — Yeah, I Called That One

pirate-flagThree days after the premiere of HBO’s Game of Thrones, I wrote on this blog about the challenge of obtaining it legally, and the inevitability of widespread Game of Thrones piracy.

A while later, the popular website The Oatmeal made a comic along almost exactly the same lines. I took this less as a sign of plagiarism on The Oatmeal‘s part (and even if it had been, it’d be pretty hypocritical to complain about it, under the circumstances), and more as a sign that everyone on the internet was having the same experience I was with the show. But the comic certainly made the “why people are pirating Game of Thrones” discussion a popular one.

Two years later, the basic problems that both The Oatmeal and I pointed out remain: HBO has no effective online distribution for non-cable-subscribers, the show’s demographics overlap solidly with the main participants in online piracy (young, predominantly white males), and it’s impossible to purchase the show independent of HBO’s other content (possibly the most crippling flaw in an iTunes-trained market, where media is expected to come a la carte).

And whaddayaknow, Game of Thrones shattered all piracy records on the books in 2012. Even those numbers are probably a lowball, given how hard it is to accurately track most of the piracy that’s occurring.

Australia, a big leader in Game of Thrones piracy (in large part because the release is delayed there, on top of all the above-mentioned problems), even earned a Facebook scold from the U.S. ambassador earlier this week. Nearly all the replies were along the same basic lines of “yeah, we’d buy it if we could get it on time and without subscribing to a bunch of other crap” (but in sexier accents, one assumes).

HBO’s solutions for 2013 apparently include bumping international air dates as far forward as possible (still a week after the US air date, in most cases) and making HBO-Go, their streaming service for cable package subscribers, available internationally.

Any bets on how much of a difference that’ll make?

In a way, it doesn’t really matter that much. HBO, as long as it keeps its current business model, probably isn’t losing too many potential subscribers to piracy — the people stealing Game of Thrones are the people that aren’t going to buy HBO’s entire package just to get the show, no matter how much they like it. That’s not lost revenue; HBO was never going to have those customers in the first place.

The director of the show effectively said as much at the Perth Writer’s Festival, acknowledging that “cultural buzz” mattered more for a show’s survival than the ratings numbers from legal viewers, though he was quickly forced into a walkback and a condemnation of piracy.

And given that they’ve already re-upped it for a fourth season, it seems clear that HBO is making enough money off Game of Thrones to be happy with it, piracy notwithstanding. It may even be making enough that it’s honestly not worth their while to try and come up with a new distribution method that would appeal to many of the current pirates.

I’m all right with that. If everyone’s happy, keep the show rolling and the piracy numbers record-breaking.

But those numbers aren’t going to go down as long as the only legal way to watch A Game of Thrones as it airs is with a full cable subscription, plus the extra HBO fee.

A company can make something available instantly and online or not, as it pleases, but it’s going to be available instantly and online either way.

The Internet Has Ruined “I Don’t Own a TV”

rupauls-drag-raceRemember the good old days when you could bow out of any entertainment-related conversation just by saying “I don’t own a TV”?

Yeah, the internet ruined that one.

I’m put in mind of this by an Onion article  – “Area Man Constantly Mentioning He Doesn’t Own a Television” — that one of my Tuesday night X-Rated Trivia teammates shared, in large part because we’re constantly getting hammered on the RuPaul’s Drag Race questions.

If you miss one of those in a gay bar, obviously, the immediate and universal reaction is “Ohmigawd don’t you watch RuPaul?”

And you know what? We tried the “we don’t own a TV” thing. We really did. It’s been my default out on pop culture questions practically since birth, and suddenly it failed me: “Uh, you guys know it’s online, right?”

Well fuck.

Look, we tried to be polite. We go out of our way not to be the “I’d just rather be reading Proust” asshole from the Onion article. But if you’re going to force the point, yeah, we don’t know the RuPaul questions because the show is shit, TV in general is shit, and we really would rather be reading Proust, or for that matter reading The Onion.

Sorry. We tried to give you the “pity the poor culturally benighted Luddites” angle, but no. You had to push, and now you’re stuck with the “quietly resent those effete intellectuals” role.

Well, okay, probably not “effete.” It is a gay bar. They don’t really hold that against you.

But seriously. The internet ruined my best out. Now I have to actually tell you that I think your show is stupid and I won’t bother watching it even when it’s easily accessible.

No hard feelings?

“Hard,” hur hur hur.

Misanthropology at the Madison Opera

We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold…

Ha, no, just kidding. Despite the essentially gonzo nature of “liveblogging,” I didn’t tank up on pills and powders for “Blog It! Tweet It! Night” at the Madison Opera. Stream-of-consciousness this may be, but it will be an unaltered consciousness.

Apart from an abuse of exclamation points, “Blog It! Tweet It! Night” seems to be what the hip young things are calling a social media campaign: I blog through the dress rehearsal of Don Giovanni (in exchange for free tickets; no bias here sir), and you the readers, enchanted, flock to the Overture Center on opening night, wallets in hand.

madison-opera-don-giovanni

Or that’s the theory, anyway. Given that half of you don’t live in Madison, and another third are web-crawling spam-bots, I’m skeptical of the efficacy here. Wish the Madison Opera luck, though; I’d love to keep getting free tickets if this goes well for them.

It’ll also be an interesting experiment in running updates via iPhone, which I’ve never tried before. There is no automatically-updating “liveblog” widget, alas — you’ll have to pretend it’s still the mid-2000s and click “refresh” every few minutes to see the latest, if you’re actually reading this live.

Everyone ready for an evening of beautiful music (that you can’t hear) and a really stupid plot (that I’ll explain in fragments)? Well, too bad, because the curtain doesn’t go up until 7:00 central time, but I’ll try to keep you entertained until then.

Live Updates – Before the Show

4:00 – Extensive grooming rituals. As a writer, only leave the house two or three times a week; might as well make the most of it. Jeff Turk of Fresco Opera Theater also pondering what pants to wear — nice to know I’m not alone.

4:45 – Launching this post and walking to the Overture Center. Probably be dull for the next half-hour unless something really exciting happens on the walk. If you’re interested in some parallel coverage, the Madison Opera website has a list of all the bloggers and tweeters tonight, which includes at least one person I worked with back in my “day job” days. Small world.

5:00 – Test-posting with the iPhone. Fingers crossed. UPDATE: it works. Sweet.

5:15 – Walking over The first few nice days are always the worst for joggers. Slow down, guys; no one is chasing you.

5:30 – Here we all are, tapping away on our phones and avoiding eye contact as we wait for the rest to trickle in. Who says art doesn’t bring people together?

5:40 – starting the tour. Costume shop. Costumes are rented and then altered for the principals. Apparently a light spritzing with vodka is the preferred method of disinfecting, no doubt because it’s always on hand at an opera house…

5:50 – The network here is choking on photo uploads, but our Don Giovanni is convincingly good looking. You’ll have to take my word for it for now.

5:55 – Feel a little bad being underfoot backstage. Nice tour and all, but I’m sure these folks have more important things to do.

6:00 – 12 stagehands for this production. Fun fact: the term “stagehand” comes from old union rules requiring mandatory overtime if they use both hands. Most producers preferred to save the money, hence “stagehand.”

6:05 – That’s not actually true, in case there was any doubt.

6:10 – Opera is apparently genteel enough that the stage manager is expected to call the principals’ cues in their various native languages. Quaint!

6:12 – “Things sometimes collide” – not reassuring to hear when they’re showing you the fly pipes.

6:20 – “I’d better get back to my crew. Grown stagehands are like small children.” Spoken like a true TD.

6:55 – Exiled to the balcony seats above everyone else, no doubt because of our glowing screens. Curtain in five.

Live Updates – Don Giovanni at the Madison Opera

7:00 – All right. Going to try to explain this story to you guys without the help of the program synopsis. They didn’t give us programs anyway. Hang on tight.

7:01 – Overture. Starts with a boom. Conductor is wearing red plaid. Someone didn’t get the “dress” part of the “dress rehearsal” memo!

7:07 – Curtain up. Meet Leporello. He’s keeping watch while his master dallies with a lady. He’s unhappy in his work, which might explain why he’s bellowing an aria at the top of his lungs while everyone’s trying to be sneaky.

7:11 – Enter Don Giovanni, or rather exit – out of a lady’s window and onstage. Apparently he’s not as good with ladies as we’ve been led to believe; she’s furious and her father tries to kill the Don.

7:13 – Il Commendatore (the father) bites the big one in a duel with DG. Possibly the fastest I’ve ever seen an opera start the body count.

7:18 – Creepy offer from the lady’s boyfriend: “Let me me father and husband both.” Ew.

7:22 – Not sure why the backdrop is a giant Georgia O’Keefe flower. Madison Opera does the strangest sets. (In fairness, it’s a rental.)

7:23 – Enter a new lady, on the trail of the lover who abandoned her. Apparently she just goes around asking strangers on the street where he went, which seems a little stalkery. Maybe the problem isn’t DG so much as his taste in ladies?

7:25 – Oh, never mind. Leporello tells us there’ve been about 1,800. Bound to be some crazies in there, statistically speaking.

7:27 – Yep, turns out she’s a DG ex. Donna Elvira. Clingy sort.

7:29 – Leporello is bad at cheering women up.

7:31 – Also not a great friend or servant to DG.

7:34 – Gratuitous hip-thrusting.

7:39 – Class tensions. Somewhat spoiled by costuming; our peasants are almost as well-dressed as the Don. Georgia O’Keefe flower is purple now.

7:43 – In the Don’s defense, every lady we’ve seen so far has been really bad at saying no.

7:44 – Cockblocked by Donna Elvira!

7:48 – Re-enter our first lady, Donna Anna, and her drippy boyfriend. Some sort of revenge plot is afoot. Hard not to root for the Don, though.

7:53 – Ok, Donna Anna’s description of the first scene’s offstage encounter is pretty rapey. Also kinda detailed, with lots of clutching and writhing. Drippy boyfriend could maybe show a little more emotion about all this.

8:01 – Side plot with Masetto and Zerlina, the abusive relationship poster children. Aria: “Beat me, beat me, my Masetto.”

8:05 – It’s cool, though, she seems to be in charge of things. Some serious topping from the bottom going on here.

8:07 – The Don throws pretty good parties.

8:11 – Enter the Donnas and the drip in disguise. It’s a standing rule of opera that a masquerade mask renders you completely unrecognizable, of course.

8:20: Thirty seconds offstage with the Don and Zerlina’s already tied to the bed. And yet he’s the one who ends up bound and punished…like I said, topping from the bottom. Atta girl Zerlina.

8:23 – Interval. Score at halftime: 1 murder, 2 attempted rapes, and 0 healthy relationships.

8:45 – Curtain back up. Leporello and DG on the run from a mob.

8:46 – Conductor calls for a reset! The thrill of dress rehearsal.

8:48 – “To be faithful to one is cruel to all the others.” The Don knows how it is.

8:51 – DG and Leporello switch costumes for no apparent reason. Maybe in case Donna Elvira throws a flowerpot at him while they flirt at her from under her balcony? The Don’s still the one doing the talking/singing.

8:54 – A particularly silly costume change given the sizes of our principals. DG’s tailcoat looks like a sports jacket on our Leporello. Lanky fellow.

8:56 – Oh, now it all makes sense. He sent Leporello, disguised as him, off to get all cuddly with the clingy Donna while he works on the other one. So not totally pointless. Multitasking!

9:00 – DG beats up Masetto; Zerlina promptly goes all sexy nurse on him. Damn girl.

9:05 – I don’t think the script calls for that pimp hat, but Leporello’s rocking it.

9:06 – Drippy drip is still a drip.

9:10 – Leporello gives the game away after less than 15 minutes. He’s really not good at anything, is he?

9:11 – Zerlina starts whipping Leporello with her shawl. JUST CUZ.

9:17 Drippy drip sings for a while. I guess Mozart felt sorry for the part and threw the tenor a bone.

9:19 – It’s apparently now a requirement that sopranos sing their most plaintive arias somewhere between prone and kneeling, just to prove that they’re not “plant and sing” sopranos. In fairness, our Donna Elviria really can act, and she’s killing her numbers, but it’s definitely a thing these days.

9.25 – A ghostly voice from offstage kills the orchestra. Whoops. They’re sorting it out. Also, enter the giant mounted statue of the Commendatore (d’you remember the Commentadore?).

9:28 – Mozart’s lesson here seems to be that you can rape and murder all you like, but don’t make your servant taunt statues. That’s going too far.

9:32 – Apparently Donna Anna won’t let the drippy tenor have a sniff ’til he punishes DG for her. Frankly, she’d do better getting Zerlina in on the action.

9:42 – Mozart samples his own tunes. In-jokey. Nice.

9:45 – Donna Elviria reappears. At this point she seems to be suffering from full-blown Stockholm syndrome.

9:47 – The statue comes to dinner. In fairness, it was invited.

9:48 – Lots of dry ice fog and a very visible fan/nozzle. Whoops. Apparently the Commendatore’s tomb was underwritten by Maytag.

9:50 – But yeah, don’t invite people to supper if you really don’t want them to come. Or accept their invitations if you don’t want to go. Especially if they live in Hell.

9:51 – There was really no reason for the Don to tear his shirt off there, but we’re not complaining.

9:53 – You know, given how much bunk he’s fed them on his master’s behalf so far, everyone is surprisingly willing to buy Leporello’s “I saw a dead man drag him away to Hell” line. The Don shoulda used that one sooner.

9:59 – And that’s curtain. 3 hours even, and I hope you enjoyed it! Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I saw a cute girl down in the mezzanine seats, and I’d like to see if I can catch her in the lobby…

The Benefits of Being a Blogger – “Blog It! Tweet It!” Night at the Madison Opera

Of all the writing I do, MA101 is probably the biggest money-loser.

I don’t run ads, I’m not an Amazon affiliate, and I’m certainly not getting paid by anyone to share my daily thoughts with you. (Anyone who would invest in that is too crazy to want as a boss, no matter how much they’re offering.)

The value here is mostly in the “platform” — a nebulous and vastly overhyped term that plenty of authors do just fine without — and in the occasional tax write-off for MA101-related expenses, which is basically anything I blog about (so if you ever see me reviewing a diamond-studded bidet from Tiffany’s or something, that’s why).

That said, it does occasional pay to be able to point and say “look, I wrote something on deadline every day for like three years, and I have a regular audience.” Not often, but it does.

Tomorrow night I’ll be enjoying an early showing of Don Giovanni, alongside an unknown number of fellow bloggers, as part of the Madison Opera’s “Blog It! Tweet It! Night,” a social media initiative with a whiff of desperation about it (they invited me, for god’s sake).

madison-opera-don-giovanni

I have to admire the entrepreneurial spirit here, by which I mean the shameless bribe of free tickets in exchange for reaching you-my-audience, but I do think their marketing team is being a little ambitious. Even assuming that their assemblage of star bloggers doesn’t go all Hunter S. Thompson and show up tanked to the gills on recreational drugs (live-blogging is, by definition, pretty gonzo), I’m not sure I’ve got a lot of readers that are going to look at even the most rave review I could possibly produce and say “wow, okay, we’d better get on up to Madison and see this opera.”

Mind you, if you do, more power to you, and please tell them Geoffrey sent you. I’d love to get invited back some day.

But mostly it seems like they’re pissing money and effort down a hole, and that makes us two of a kind. So hello and thank you Madison Opera, and I will see you tomorrow night — readers, tune in for what will probably not be a live-blogging so much as a ten-minutes-delayed blogging, because I’ll be updating via iPhone and the WordPress app is clunky at best.

And if you’re reading this on Wednesday and wondering where today’s post is, there’s your answer. It’ll probably start showing up some time around 5:30-6:00ish with my thoughts on the backstage tour, and the opera itself starts at 7:00.

Will I say nice things? Will there be snark? Will it simply decay into incoherent rambling as I drink my way through all eight scenes? That depends on the opera, I suppose, and on how captivating it is. Tune in tomorrow to find out!

How Embarrassing Will Your Dystopian Fantasy Be 100 Years from Now?

In the world of future-writing, political prognostications tend to go bad even faster than technological ones.

The two do influence one another — we won’t have, for example, Robert Heinlein’s libertarian utopia on the moon, not so much because libertarianism doesn’t work the way Heinlein was picturing it in 1965 as because a modern-day attempt at lunar colonization wouldn’t face the same practical and economic challenges he envisioned.

But for the most part, it’s the creator’s vision of futuristic societal norms that starts to look dated first. And to my delight, I found this weekend that the phenomenon was in no way restricted to science-fiction novel! Here is a table cover from 1881, forecasting the far-off year of 1981, and specifically “Womans Rights And What Came Of It”:

womens-rights-and-what-came-of-it

You can click to enlarge (and probably have to, since I was working in low light with an iPhone camera), but in case it wasn’t clear, this is a caricature of the distant and dire future in which women have rights.

No really — this was the stuff of dystopian fantasy in 1881.

And it is a pretty detailed fantasy! We have, of course, the men enslaved in the laundromat:

laundry-now-were-busy

Because that is what ladies do when they get rights; they make guys do some laundry. Laundry! Like they were women or something!

Things get a little saucy on the other side of the cloth, as the artist starts to work in what is pretty clearly his own personal cross-dressing fetish:

admiral

hard-work-crossdressing-men

And it wouldn’t be complete, of course, without an entire row of lady’s bottoms, just so that we’re all clear that the inevitable consequence of giving women rights is that they start waving their undies all over the place:

furling-a-sail

I’ll bet he was furling his sail as he drew that, if ya know what I mean.

It is all a good chuckle, and if you ever find yourself passing through Grinnell, IA, I highly recommend a stop at the Grinnell Historical Museum, which is a treasure trove of this and other wacky nineteenth century pop culture artifacts (human hair watch chains included).

But it’s also, I think, an opportunity for some perspective, if you happen to be in the business of writing what the kids these days are calling “speculative fiction.” Just how embarrassing are your speculations going to be a hundred years from their publication date?

You’ll probably be dead, of course. But on the off-chance that they perfect life-extension techniques some time in between your writing and your death (hey, if you don’t believe it could happen, why are you in the speculative fiction business?), maybe do a double-check for really silly stuff.

Then again, this was in a museum, so maybe I shouldn’t point and laugh. Better to be remembered for being hilariously and offensively wrong, or not to be remembered at all? You decide — and maybe leave a comment. We like those around here.

Boy Scouts of America, Seeking Half-Measures, Prepares for Another Round of Epic Bed-Shitting

The collective geniuses that run the BSA might not know quite where they stand on the subject of gay sex, but they’re rapidly proving themselves experts at screwing the pooch:

Under pressure over its longstanding ban on gays, the Boys Scouts of America is proposing to lift the ban for youth members but continue to exclude gays as adult leaders.

The Scouts announced Friday that it would submit this proposal to the roughly 1,400 voting members of its National Council at a meeting in Texas the week of May 20. (New York Times)

Let’s just pause for a moment and try to imagine the mental convolutions necessary to explain that particular bit of policy. Just how do you make a compelling argument that it’s okay to be gay until you’re 18, but after that it’s enough of a problem that the BSA can’t allow you membership?

boy-scouts-of-america-logoYou can’t, obviously. There is no rational basis here.

Instead, there’s a group of administrators who can see the writing on the wall, but who are hoping to keep everyone happy by simultaneously “accepting” homosexuals and keeping the implicit belief that adult homosexuals are dangerous predators: “See, it’s okay, we’ll tolerate your gay children, but we won’t let any of those kiddie-fondler grown-ups near them. Everyone wins!”

Everyone, of course, except the BSA, whose latest proposal is all set to please exactly no one. The seriously hardcore bigots — who do, as we’ve discussed before, make up a substantial minority within Scouting — aren’t going to accept something that “legitimizes” homosexuality, even among youth, and the decent human beings aren’t going to be thrilled by the implication that gays turn into baby-raping monsters on their eighteenth birthday.

A good compromise makes everyone unhappy. Great job, BSA! I am so very, very glad not to be on your public relations staff today.

Good luck with this one. You pathetic cowards.

Sex Makes a Lousy Multiple Choice Test

One of the things I love about X-Rated Trivia Night at the gay club (other than the fact that there is, indeed, an “X-Rated Trivia Night at the gay club” a few minutes from my home) is listening to the charming queer boys try to explain how straight sex works.

For example, when a woman is about to cum, do you know whether you should

  • A) thrust as hard as you can,
  • B) hold perfectly still and enjoy the contractions,
  • C) whisper sweet nothings in her ear, or
  • D) arch your back?

We did not either! But apparently the answer was B, always, 100% of the time that is what you do. Who knew? It seems kinda selfish to me, but I’m sure the gay guys know best.

Worth noting, too, that the phrasing above was the entirety of this hypothetical, “when a woman is about to cum…you should” — and depending on what you’re doing to her at the time and with what equipment, I can definitely think of situations where “hold still and enjoy the contractions” is pointless advice at best. Queers can be so heteronormative!

Another delightful head-scratcher asked how one should pleasure a partner’s nipple:

  • A) by sucking like a baby,
  • B) lick/suck/lick/suck in a consistent rhythm,
  • C) suck each nipple for equal amounts of time, or
  • D) lift your mouth off the nipple and flick with your tongue

If you are saying something to the effect of “any or all of those depending on what my partner wants,” sorry! You got it wrong; also shouldn’t your mouth be full of nipple right now?

The answer was apparently D. I’m not sure how to interpret that, since the phrase “lift your mouth off the nipple” implies that your mouth, by necessity, needs to be on the nipple at some point to do it right. Maybe if you just happen to brush a nipple with your mouth, jerk back and start tonguing frantically, hoping they didn’t notice? It’s like Operation, only without the live electrical current.

scantron-multiple-choice-sheetOr maybe with it. Whatever floats your boat.

The important lesson to take away here is, of course, not that drag queens are bad at writing questions about sex (which they are, but they make up for it by being fantastic at reading the questions off and MCing in general).

The lesson is rather that sex makes a bad multiple choice quiz, and that you should maybe approach it with more of a dialogue mindset than a checklist mindset.

Although I guess you could get a laugh out of a “hot for teacher” classroom fetish scene with a sexy Scantron quiz. I’ll file that one away for later use (alongside my high heels and pencil skirt, obvs.).

 

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