Half the World Pirates Sotware

More Than Half The World Pirates Software

2

 (12:05 pm PDT, May 31)

More Than Half The World Pirates Software

Business Software Alliance: 57% of Internet users admit to pirating software

While most new stories covering Internet piracy talk in terms of the entertainment industries and major associations like the MPAA and RIAA, software piracy is often part of the discussion and debate as well. While entertainment companies collectively call for extreme legal measures like SOPA and ACTA, software companies also battle piracy outside the legal arena by using extreme anti-pirating measures built into their products (and their accompanying license agreements). Microsoft is probably best example of a company that goes to great lengths to limit pirating of its products.

With digital piracy being a major issue in many countries over the past several months, the Business Software Association added user surveys to its annual piracy study. The results show that, despite measures from software makers, existing anti-piracy laws, and pending legislation, more than half of all Internet users admit to pirating at least one piece of software.

The BSA’s report (PDF Link) included survey data from more than 15,000 people in 33 countries. This is the first year that the trade group, which includes Apple, Microsoft, and Adobe as members, included user responses in the study.

The survey explicitly asked users this question.

How often do you acquire pirated software or software that is not fully licensed?

According to the results 57% of Internet users reported that they use pirated software. A jump from measures in previous studies. Last year’s report showed that only 42% of users pirated software.

The BSA also noted some interesting stats based on the use habits of software pirates.

This year’s survey finds that frequent pirates — people who admit they acquire unlicensed software all of the time, most of the time, or occasionally — also are the most voracious software users. They report installing 55% more programs of all types on their computers than do non-pirates. This gives them an outsized impact on the global piracy rate.

The report also notes that business decision makers are somewhat more likely to pirate software than general users and that this trend was particularly strong in emerging markets and developing countries. The BSA acknowledged in the report that emerging markets and developing countries, where users have less means to purchase expensive software, have higher rates of software piracy. The organization declined to investigate or comment on any correlations related to software pricing in either developed countries or in the developing world.

Pirating of desktop software was much more common than mobile apps. The iPad and other tablets were singled out as being particularly adverse to piracy at this time – a fact the report correlates to the small market.

(PDF link)

 
 

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Why I Stopped Pirating Music

Why I Stopped Pirating Music

19

 (7:30 am PDT, Sep 2)

Why I Stopped Pirating Music

After nearly a decade, my iTunes library weighs in at almost ninety-four gigabytes. A lot of serious music nerds would sneeze derisively at that, but it still represents over 13,000 songs that would take me, from start to finish, a full 48 days to listen to back to back.

I’d be lying if I said most of these had been acquired legally. Most of these albums were acquired on Bittorrent in my twenties. Many more were ripped from CDs lent to me by friends and family, or slurped up from Usenet to satisfy my obscure yet surface-thin musical fixations. Some were purchased through iTunes or other sources online, but truthfully, if you stripped everything out of my iTunes library that I’d acquired legally, I’d probably have a digital music library that could fit on a first generation iPod.

Over the course of the last two years, though, something interesting has happened. I’ve grown a conscience. These days, all of the music I listen to is listened to legally. But iTunes not only has no part in it. In fact, for the past two years, my iTunes library has just been collecting dust: a graveyard to the music piracy of my youth.

I’m ashamed of it. I want to try to explain things. Both why I started pirating music, why I stopped, and how, in fits and starts, being a music pirate helped transform me into someone who cared enough about music to buy it.

 

How I got hooked on music and piracy…

I come from a family that is very passionate about music. When I was growing up, my house was always filled with sound: my father’s CD collection numbered in the thousands, and his LP and cassette tape collections are almost as impressive. His taste was simultaneously eclectic and exhaustive, popular and obscure. Running through the blood of my father and his brothers is a passion for sound, a yen not just for catchy singles but to experience and understand the emotional thought stiching together the sounds that human beings make.

It was not a passion I shared. Growing up in a household constantly filled with music, I tended to value silence when I could get it. Despite my family’s best efforts, my interest in music was, at best, extraordinarily casual. I had some favorite CDs as a teen, but they were the usual angry pop anthems to anarchy that most kids bobbed their heads to in the mid-90s. I’d play a few songs off of each of these CDs over and over again until the very rhythm of them made me sick, then never listen to them again. Despite my family’s best interests, any deeper interest in music eluded me.

Why I Stopped Pirating Music

My first “iPod.” Really.

It wasn’t until I got my first iPod in 2004 that I really started listening to music again. I say iPod, but it wasn’t really: it was a Dell DJ, Dell’s bizarre, hideous analog to the iPod. It looked like a relic that had crowned through wormhole from an alternate dimension where Apple (яблоко) was founded behind the Iron Curtain, but it was $100 cheaper than an iPod, and at the time, money was tight.

It’s strange to say, but in many ways, my interest in music was birthed from piracy. It is the nature of a void that it must be filled, and with 20 gigabytes of hard drive space on my Dell DJ, I quickly set about filling it as best as I could, helter skelter, grabbing albums almost at random as fast as I could download them from all the usual pirating sources: WASTE networks, Bittorrent, IRC, newsgroups. I quickly filled up that Dell DJ and upgraded to a 60GB iPod Classic the next year. I never have been without an iPod since.

I began to listen to a lot more music during this period, but like many pirates, I downloaded far more albums out of convenience than I actually listened to. The albums I did listen to, I half-listened to, allowing the music to fill the background of my consciousness while I focussed on other things: reading a book, writing, playing a video game. I came to the majority of the music I downloaded as the worst kind of listener, a non-participant. I was amassing a collection, but collecting is not the same as appreciating.

Still, some of it began to permeate, to sink in. My tastes expanded from the grungy to be more diverse. A lot of this was achievement based at first: “Wouldn’t it set me apart if I were deeply into jazz?” I would pretentiously think. But pretentious posturing often evolves into legitimate passion through sheer repetition, and the more music I listened to something new simply to win the achievement, the more I found myself really thinking about what I’d heard.

This continued for many years, and I bought only what I couldn’t find any other way: the truly obscure. During this time, my trivial knowledge of music expanded as rapidly as my iTunes library — names of bands, when albums were released, that kind of stuff — but my actual appreciation for what I was hearing grew far more slowly. For everydozen albums in my iTunes library, I might have actual, articulable thoughts about only one of them. Looking back, this seems incredibly depressing to me, but it’s the hallmark of someone who is approaching art as a commodity that comes from a faucet. I wasn’t investing in music with either my time, my money or my attention: I was just turning it on.

How I stopped pirating, and started streaming…

So what changed? There was obviously a tipping point where I had finally collected enough ideas about certain albums or artists that I, in turn, started to have ideas about music as a whole. But what really started changing the way I thought about music was when I changed the way I acquired music. And this had nothing to do with iTunes, but rather, it came when I subscribed to Spotify.

I was living in Europe at the time, so I had access to Spotify a couple of years before it came to the United States. When I signed up for it, I did so on a whim, but that whim scratched the niggling itch of conscience that was starting to develop in regards to pirating. If you’re not really thinking about music, the act of piracy doesn’t make much of an impact on your conscience, but the sheer volume of music I was pirating and playing had started a very slow chain reaction for me. Particles of music colliding with particles of thoughts as if by random, undergoing a fusion into a denser, more fully formed element: an idea of what that song or album represented to me. There weren’t many of these ideas, but once you have an idea in your head, it becomes much harder to ignore the person or artist who gave it to you.

So when I signed up for Spotify, I viewed it in many ways as almost a more ethical form of piracy. For a reasonable monthly subscription fee, I could enjoy as much music as I wanted from a vast library, with even more convenience than hunting down albums and pirating them first. Sure, I knew that artists being paid for the tracks I was listening to on Spotify were only getting a small fraction of what they would have earned if I purchased their album in a store or through iTunes, but still, this was a legal alternative: a way of listening to vast quantities of newmusic that didn’t break the bank, but also didn’t need to be hidden or equivocated around. It required no justification.

My appreciation of albums shifted from one that was primarily about whether I had that album to what that album had made me feel.

What’s odd, though, is the way in which Spotify — then Rdio, when I moved back  to the States, and which I think is a better service — changed the way I listened to music. Instead of collecting digital music files, Spotify made me sit down and listen. Before, merely downloading an album had, in some small sense, fulfilled me, whether I listened to it or not. But now I approached each album singly, not as a commodity to be pilfered in bulk and hoarded, but as something I was setting out to experience, right then and there.

The distinction is what I brought to the table, which wasn’t so much money — these subscriptions are cheap and easy to justify, even if you don’t listen to much music — as it was a deep variation in the way I approached music. Albums were listened to with a greater immediacy, because having access to an almost infinite library of music in the cloud, my appreciation of albums shifted from one that was primarily about whether I had that album to what that album had made me feel.

When I look back at my 90 gigabytes of pirated music, the thing that strikes me is how little of it I’ve listened to, even to this day. How many of the albums stored in my iTunes library that I did listen to conjure up absolutely no feeling in me when I look at them.

It’s clear to me, in retrospect, that my piracy was mostly mere collecting, and like the most fetishistic of collectors, it was conducted with mindless voracity. A good collection is supposed to be made up of relics, items that conjure up memories, feelings and ideas for the owner so strongly that he gets pleasure in simply being in close contact with them. A tended garden. My collection was nothing like this: it was just a red weed, swallowing up and corroding anything I did care about within its indiscriminating mass.

Why I’ll never pirate again…

Things are very different for me now. Music streaming services like Spotify and Rdio are part of that transformation, in that I started approaching music more urgently. They broke me of my collecting habit, and over time, I developed a more fully-formed connection with music, in which my collection was no longer a trove of bytes on my hard drive, but a compendium of memories and feelings about the way certain albums had impacted me. As this internal garden of musical experience grew, I found myself wanting to collect albums again, but not as a red weed of formless bits… as something physical, a collection of relics that I could approach with the same mixture of fondness and urgency as I approach my favorite books.

Why I Stopped Pirating Music

My stereo, installed in a mid-century booze cart.

Recently, I bit the bullet and put myself together a proper stereo, very similar to the one my father had when I was younger. It’s a hodge podge of vintage components, including a beautiful Yamaha receiver from the late 70s with full, rich sound, some massively powerful Technics speakers some poor fool was giving away on Craigslist, a Dual 1256 turntable and a slightly out-of-place Apple TV lurking in the shadows of the entertainment center, allowing me to stream music from Rdio over AirPlay to all of this vintage analog gear.

I’m not an audiophile, but for someone who spent the vast majority of his musical awakening over the past decade listening to digital audio in a hodge-podge of bitrates over crappy PC speakers and cheap earbuds, the luxuriousness of this set-up is hard to overstate: it’s the difference between listening to music in the background and feeling it as a presence in the room with you, sometimes soft and pale, and sometimes as an electrifying pressure in the air around you, like an exploding storm.

What’s interesting to me about my stereo is how it’s facilitated the final step in my evolution in the way I experience music. Apple has always known that good tech changes the way you interact with a medium, and that’s just what my stereo has done, far more profoundly changing the way I listen to music than any iPod ever did. Part of it’s because my stereo sounds so great that listening to music on my Mac or my iPhone is a far shallower experience, but another big part of it is that my stereo isn’t something I can simply carry around with me: it’s 150 pounds of gear located in my living room, and to experience it, I must go to it and sit in front of it as an active participant. It’s an altar, of sorts, in front of which I feel and experience music.

Apple has always known that good tech changes the way you interact with a medium, and that’s just what my stereo has done, far more profoundly changing the way I listen to music than any iPod ever did.

These days, I don’t pirate any music. My iTunes library collects dust. Instead, I expand my horizons musically by exploring in Rdio. If an album I listen to particularly affects me, I set out to collect it… not merely to have it, but to be in close physical contact with a work that has, in some small way, changed the way I feel and which I always want to be able to feel again. When I do collect these albums, I go out of my way to buy them on vinyl, usually paying two to three times the price of what that same album would cost me on iTunes or on CD.

Again, this is about the ritual of the thing. A lot of people will tell you that albums sound differently on vinyl, but I don’t think that’s necessarily true. What is true for me, again, is that a vinyl record is something that can not be engaged with passively. You have to touch it. It’s big. You have to flip it halfway through. It can’t be listened to while you jog or while you ride the subway. You can’t just slap it into a player and forget about it: you need to lift the needle down to trace the grooves of a concentric spiral in which other human beings inscribed an emotional tissue of music that reproduces something deep and subliminal within their hearts. For me, the strength of vinyl is that it can not be easily taken for granted: to play a record, you must set out to listen to it, not just hear it.

What’s the takeaway here? That’s a very good question. As a thirty-three year old man, I’m ashamed of the piracy of my twenties, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it gradually helped transform me from a person who didn’t care about music into a music lover, an individual with a true passion for sound, and a fervent believer in buying music.

I hope, in the grand scheme of things, that is a comfort to the musicians and music executives who despair about the rampant piracy endemic to digital music: I can not be alone in this. I stole music just long enough for me to grow to love buying it.

As for my iTunes library? Maybe it’s time I raze that red weed once and for all. There’s nothing in it I wouldn’t rather buy all over again.

Why I Stopped Pirating Music

Good riddance.

Read more at http://www.cultofmac.com/188297/why-i-stopped-pirating-music/#qYpHrcpgH7KE07Pt.99

Harmony

First you need to know the melody or tune of the song fairly well enough so that it is consistent. You can sing the tune the same way each time you sing it from beginning to end at least 3 times.

Next find a part either above or below the tune at the third (either major or minor) that follows the tune. It should be in similar motion but not necessarily parallel motion. You have to allow for some variation because the harmony might not sound pleasing with the minor third so substitute the major third and vice versa. This where you have to use your taste and sensitivity.

Next find the third part which is a third above or below the second part and follow suit. 

I prefer to harmonize using pentatonic harmony which usually does not use  the IV or V!! of the major scale. Like in the key of C use  CDE GA only this gets rid of the tritone of FB which defines a strong key center. The pentatonic melody is pleasing and rounded off with out any corners.It usually fits nicely and simply into any tune.

Harmony

First you need to know the melody or tune of the song fairly well enough so that it is consistent. You can sing the tune the same way each time you sing it from beginning to end at least 3 times.

Next find a part either above or below the tune at the third (either major or minor) that follows the tune. It should be in similar motion but not necessarily parallel motion. You have to allow for some variation because the harmony might not sound pleasing with the minor third so substitute the major third and vice versa. This where you have to use your taste and sensitivity.

Next find the third part which is a third above or below the second part and follow suit. 

I prefer to harmonize using pentatonic harmony which usually does not use  the IV or V!! of the major scale. Like in the key of C use  CDE GA only this gets rid of the tritone of FB which defines a strong key center. The pentatonic melody is pleasing and rounded off with out any corners.It usually fits nicely and simply into any tune.

Cardinal Numbers and Ordinal Numbers

If we cannot tell at a glance how many objects there are in a group we can count the objects. When we have finished counting the last number we said tells the number of objects in the group. A number like “five” is used to tell how many objects there are in a group of objects is called a cardinal number. If we wish to describe the position of the last object in the group, we would use the number word “fifth.” A number like “fifth” which is used to describe the position of an object when it is in a group of objects is called an ordinal number.

Understanding the Meaning of Number

THE NUMBER OF A SET

Beginning with one, we see that one and one more is two, two and one more is three and one more is four, etc. These arranged numbers are the ones we use in counting. They are called counting numbers, or natural numbers. 4,5,6,7,etc. When we refer to all the counting numbers and zero, we call this set of numbers the whole numbers, or integers.

Arithmetic of Whole Numbers

1. USING NUMBER SYMBOLS AND NUMBER NAMES

Thousands of years ago, man began to represent numbers by the use of number symbols. Primitive man kept a record of a number by making scratches on a stone or in the dirt, by cutting notches in a stick, or by tying knots in a rope. He also kept a count of his animals by placing in a pile one pebble for each animal.

In each of these methods of recording numbers one mark stood for one object and there were as many marks as there were objects. In those early days of recording numbers, there was no one mark to stand for several objects.

After many years, man learned to represent several objects by using a single symbol. This was a great step forward in the development of number symbols.

Different peoples in ancient civilizations created number sybols of various kinds. Zero, the empty set, or something to hold a place came along much later.  When I play Sudoku I realize that Zero was a hard concept for the Asian to understand for a long time. Kakuro is another game of numbers that does not use Zero.

The number symbol or number name that is used to represent a number is called a numeral.

We must be aware of the fact that a numeral and the number it represents are not the same thing. The numeral is only the symbol for the number, not the number itself. we know for example that the number 4 is larger than the number 3 even though we might see a larger printed 3 and a small printed 4.

In our mathematics work we shall add, subtract, multiply and divide numbers, not numerals. At times however to avoid awkward and cumbersome language expressions we will use the word number when we should really use the word numeral. For example, we may say “write the number” instead of saying “write the numberal that represents the number.” This is commonly accepted practice.

New and Difficult Times Ahead

We have had a good run for 30 years but it has come to an end. These next ten years are going to be tough to deal with, since the party is over. Fortunately I got in under the wire. I had made enough money to survive but it is not in the style to which I am acustomed to live. However I have got a lot of free time now to pursue my practice of piano performance and composition. The technology is starting to catchup with my skill level. For many years I was much faster and accurate with a pencil and manuscript paper. It would take hours to enter data into a music processor and then if you wanted to change anything that would take another long period of time to tweak. The best thing about the processor is the neatness and professional look of it as sometimes hand written music can look pretty tacky. I was blessed with a pretty neat hand however. I have never gotten any complaints from others who read my music and I have never had any trouble with reading my own hand written music.

Writing music with a computer has been disgustingly slow and time consuming. However the generation of music processors since 2008 are pretty good. Finale for about $100 gives you some real options without all the hype.

So here I am

I do not have anything significant to say except I have got a lot of leisure time. I have to tell you that I did work like a Hebrew slave for thirty years but not anymore. I can see where Richard Branson and guys like him who never put in a decent hard days work and were just in the right place at the right time do not know what hard work is. Guys like him should live a long time and look young as well.