RIAA Wins one for the Roller!

Rotten Note:  Wed May 18. 

The Huffpost article this post referred to was changed today-INCLUDING THE BLATANTLY INCORRECT HEADLINE!  AND PUTS LOTS OF EGG ON THE FACES OF THE JERKS WHO COMMENTED THERE!  PREDOMINANTLY FILESTEALING THEIFS - ALL IN THE NAME OF FREE ENTERPRISE!   BULLSHIT KNEE JERK JOURNALISM!  GOT A RISE OUT OF ME -THATS FOR SURE.  REMIND ME TO STICK TO LAW AND FACT, NOT JOURNALISM. 

And please Huffposters, read the RIAA statement before you comment!   PULEEZE!  IT'S STILL PUSHING IT'S FILESTEALING AGENDA 24 HOURS LATER!  LEMMINGS WHO CAN'T READ OR THINK!  THAT'S SOME RETRACTION!  YOUR READERS STILL DON'T GET IT!

http://riaa.org/newsitem.php?content_selector=newsandviews&news_month_filter=5&news_year_filter=2011&resultpage=&id=0750A00C-192B-0171-1D91-1E69DC416522
My original post still stands as written below:


I will not plagiarize the emotional headline spread to cause knee jerk reactions with all music fans.
(Even if it came from a reputable source, also in bed with our big bro Goog, the Huff Post.)

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/05/17/riaa-and-record-labels-wi_n_862725.html

$105M won from Limewire for the file stealing mess.  And all the reports claiming that the artists get nothing. 

BOO FUCKING HOO! 

All the starving artists.  And anyone who ever sang along - is crying for them.

GROW THE FUCK UP!

Whiners.  Yeah, just like me.  Embraced every format that came along, bought the next player, and now get all we want for next to nothing on this interweb thingy.  We all killed the music too.

You fucking murderers!

It's pretty clear the old music industry machine is dead without it's tangible spinning plastic delivery systems that were manufactured, distributed, and retailed conveniently. 

If you could get food and clothing from your droid phone, why would you leave the house?  Sex was there first!  (profiting from the internet)  Envision the replicator on the Starship Enterprise.  All the booze and filet mignon you can suck down.  At the touch of a button-or verbal command! 

Music is there.  Now. Today.  No science fiction.  It's a stark reality.

The artists that survive today do so on touring and merchandise.  Sharon keeps Ozzy breathing long enough to reach another fest tour.

Merch.  Yeah-all those Harley Davidson T-shirts and no bike in the garage.  Remember Tommy Hilfiger?  Logo on a t-shirt.  Who could actually afford the real clothes?  But we all want to be a part of his well dressed dream perfect world.  Buy the Image.

The old music industry was the delivery system-of both image and content.  Only the best made it to the store shelves.  The rest died in their basements and garage bands.  And rightly so.

Today, any idiot with a guitar (Hi there!) can put a few tunes on SpyMace, and still be unknown forever.  Yeah-just like me.  Too many choices.  Too many outlets.  Clicking on a million bands that sound just like Death Cab For Cutie: Metal Death Cab, Death Cab with Horns, Reggae Cab, Cute Chicks in a Cab, etc.

The playing field is so level, you can't hear a pin drop amongst the din.

You pick what you want-and basically voted that what you want IS CRAP!  Fair and square. Communism.  Now it all sucks.  Any no talent hack (Hi there!) can spit out crap all day - at the touch of a button - whether you listen or not!

RIAA supported and promoted innovators.  Singers, players, writers, composers.  Creators that brought something new to the table.  The music that deserved to be heard.  Rated on merit-popularity-gold, silver, platinum sales. 

Think Classical.  Jazz.  The roots of all this robot voice tripe you hear today.

The Huffpost headline promoted a load of comments badmouthing the RIAA, by a bunch of kids (and adults) that promote theft.

Read the RIAA statement.  They protect and promote the rights of the creators.  Fuck the money.  The real creators are long since dead.  (And not touring anytime soon)

Is Vivaldi getting any richer?  Probably not.  But if his music is reduced to an icon on a screen, generations will suffer a greater loss than money.