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i”m trying to remember aronne. It\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’s distant. It feels like I don\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t remember things anymore. Whole sections of my life are disappearing. I wonder if this is what is suppossed to happen as I get older. I forget. It was a year of my life and it\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’s gone.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nI had broken up with my wife. It was days later when I met aronne. Wait. no.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\naronne had been working at a bar. i was the doorman. i remember that. carmen was the bartender. she had been my friend for a long time. carmen, that is. aronne was the daytime bartender. \\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwhile i was still with clarisse i had the door job. aronne was the daytime bartender. i remember that.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwhen i broke up with clarisse i was lost. she was my wife. my life; etc. fuck that.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nas my relationship with clarisse fell apart i met aronne. wait.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni didn\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t meet her then. i had met her before.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nafter i broke up with my wife; she took me home. home was her place in the south bronx. she was borowing the place from a ridiculously overweight black man. he had inherited the place from his dead mother. he was letting her stay there in exchange for the rent.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nthe first time we had sex it lasted a few days. lots of promises were made; by me. her body was a wonderful plaything. i wanted to fuck it. prove it. it was fun.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nduring this we played verbally with s&m. just talk. she talked to me about her past. she had a punk rock boyfriend.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nby punk rock boyfriend i mean the actual kind. he was just profiled on “interventions.” wait. not just. i think he was on their premiere. some underage girl was pining for his punk rock ass. it was her intervention.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nafter the 4 day binge, i tied aronne to the bed. then i left for a while. i hung out in her living room and ignored her as much as i could in my head. i looked at the books which were shit. i looked at the worn furniture. i looked at all the past signs of children. \\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nthen i re-entered the bedroom, i broke a 40, and i cut the shit out of her stomach.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni didn\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t cut the shit out of her stomach. i just scratched her. i ate her out and she came. then i fucked her and when i came inside her she was part of me. we were together.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nclarisse, my ex-wife, was pressuring me to move out. for closure. i agreed to move into aronne\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’s south bronx place that was not her place.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nnext day was the eviction notice. the sheriff gave the notice. i know it was the sheriff because it said it on the paper. who knew NYC had a sheriff?\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni remember aronne helping me move out all my shit from the \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’apartment that was formerly known as mine\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’. i don\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t remember where it was moved to. like i said, i don\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t remember.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nonce aronne was kicked out via the sheriff, we figured out fat black dick hadn\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t been paying the rent at all. he gave her the space, took the money, and spent it on coke and booze.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nthis made a lot of sense, as he had been hanging out in the bar constantly. he was a whiney bitch that smelled and got too drunk. we put up with him because he was a friend of aronne\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’s. what we didn\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t know was that the whole time he was spending her money.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni remember the day after the eviction. or i don\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nshe had 2 cats. she had inherited them from an ex-boyfriend. they were cute. 1 was very fluffy. she kind of hated them. i think she was uncomfortable with the idea of things that gave affection but would jugar video poquer webjuegos instantaneos portales webganar dinero real pagina internetplay free baccaratroulette softwarebest bonus casinojuegos casino on lineganar premio pagina internetmaquinas tragaperras portales webjuego de la ruleta gratisjugar slots gratisjuegos apuestas portalestragaperra paginas weball slots casinocasinos descargas portalesjuegos interactivos onlinecomo ganar en el casinoalquiler ruletasjugar apostar portalesapuesta dinero internetcasinos espana pagina internetroulette grand jeujugar gratis portalesjuegos azar portales internetjuegue casino gratistragamonedas lineapremio dinero portalescasino internacional portalapuesta dinero onlinevideo poker portalcasino online spielencasino online slotcpayscom2 casino onlineparty casino bonusspielen sie kostenlos kasinospiele onlineinternet spielbankcasino on linegratis casino spieleonline casino bonus ohne einzahlungall slotscasino games 2007online spiel automatblack jack strategiencasino online liveonline casino deutschroulette kostenlosglucksspiele onlinekasino websitebestes casino onlinedas beste online casino eat your eyes later. aronne, i later realized, would want affection that would last through death and well after. at least affection after a year. cats were too fickle.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni remember the cats in my parents car. i was scared because i had borrowed the car under the pretense that i was moving a friend. the cats were in the car, and they pissed and clawed. i was driving and very uptight about this.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwe delivered the cats to annie, who promised to take care of them.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nat around this point me and aronne must have gotten the storage locker. i say this only because i know we had a locker, and i know our stuff must have gone somewhere. the cats went to annie.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ndid i mention i\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’d had sex with annie? the lives of animals is complex.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nthe next i remember is one afternoon wandering the streets with aronne. she had found a place in park slope. the man who lived there was a christian. he was also a musician. he didn\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t seem to be aware of the conflict this created. we had spirited sex on his bed. his roommate ratted us.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nat this point, i was sleeping in the living room of clarisse\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’s place. it was our place but now it was her place and i was a guest at her will. which she was just lovely about. be it spineless or love, i was able to hide the shame of my failure at marriage to my family over these days thanks to her ability to completely ignore the person that once loved her now snoring in her living room.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nthis situation could not last. the christian roomate was not happy with the fucking. and i was not happy not fucking my wife.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwhich led me to the day i wandered times square with aronne. i was scared i would have nowhere to live. i put this on aronne, who volunteered that she would have somewhere for us. she had nowhere. she just wanted to make it right because she loved me.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nthere were previous places for her to go to. her and her junkie boyfriend (intervention!) had stayed at many a place and burned bridges. somehow we found the riverview.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nthe riverview was a hotel in the west villiage. it\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’s located just south of the meat packing district. it wants to be a hotel but there are problems. one is the bulletproof glass that announces visitors. another is the shared showers. another is the variety of sro occupants living there. \\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n

\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nbut we had no money for an apartment deposit. we had nothing but what we made week to week. the riverview was 350 a week for a double. we could just barely afford that.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwe got a room with a view of the hudson. though a double, it was a very small room. there were two bathrooms. one of them led us past the single rooms. the single rooms are structured to allow only a bed, with barely room to open the door. these rooms were 160 a week. \\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni always thought of nightbreed walking to the single room bathroom. the bottom level, where they kept the outsiders that could not be controlled. it would be door after door after door; with no space between them. i feared hands jumping at me as i walked past the doors. i\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’d sometimes see one cracked open with a man inside, i never asked questions. once i found a needle in the shower. \\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nremove the needle. don\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t ask questions.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nlife with aronne was good at this point. she was not my wife. she often worried if she was a rebound (she was). I reassured her she was not. the sex was great.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni was now working as a doorman at her bar. though i had that job before she took the daytime shift, it\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’s still her bar. you can be a doorman, when a new bartender comes it\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’s their place. pointless aside. as a doorman i made $180 a week, this gave me $10 spending money after rent.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nhowever, that wasn\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t so much a problem. aronne would give me my day booze while carmen gave me my night. neither cost more then a few dollars on the table. so i got to fuck and suck and look our upon the river. i used to call aronne\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’s cab to the bar “the shuttle.” i had a lot of friends in the east village. between aronne and friends, as long as i got in her cab i could get by and eat and drink.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nthere\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’s no doubt, during this period, aronne took care of me. we were also very, very happy.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nit was the first time she was in control. she had her day regulars. she loved them. in the past, she was a slave to junkies and pretentious art fags. her former job was dominatrix/punk rock musician. she burned out on the punk rock part when she decided to fuck the bassist exclusively and give no other band members rights. she was then thrown out of the holy band space with her new “not a punk rock band member” junkie boyfriend and asked to make it on their own.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nhe didn\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t and went to jail. she reinvented and became the daytime bartender.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni needed to make more money. i had a cousin who owned a store in the neighborhood. i had avoided her because i had come as a stray dog too many times in the past. my parents are true queens, at some point they gave up on me. Whine, whine. She got out of that crap, so i tried to tie my cowardice in a ball and asked her for a job.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni got one. fixing computers for her store. this… is a different story that i still live today. but at this point i was able to pay riverview rent and buy food.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nshe liked to play acoustic guitar. she would play it for the daytime regulars, who loved it. well, some of them did.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’ve had a few beautiful moments in my life. moments where it came together, i was happy and insane and fucking and drunk and crazy. no, wait, it was that moment. it clicked and it worked. we fucked and sweated (no air conditioning at the riverview) and drank and barely were aware that there were parasites among us. we lived and we thrived.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nthe riverview would make us move out every three weeks. there was this pesky legal issue that if a resident stayed for a month they would have housing rights. the riverview escapes this by having their (non-legacy) residents move their stuff out for one night, then move it back in the next day. we accepted and embraced this concept.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nthe room was just a double bed with an admittedly beautiful view of the river. we moved our own small furniture in. We decorated. we created a space. we also rented a storage unit at manhattan mini storage. we wanted to use the indie company down the block, but their hours were fucked. \\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nSo we created a living space the lower middle class would be jealous of. We would build up and take down our world like a carnival. While in it we were happy. We were safe.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nLooking out the window i would always notice the sailboats passing by. not the cruise line mega plex ones, though they were a-plenty, i noticed the individual boats. it made me feel good to think they didn\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t have my view once they docked. my 350 a week room was better then theirs, wherever they were once they docked. and i had love. and i had passion. and i had the moral right.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwe tired of our carnival, after 4 months, and wanted to leave.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwe now needed an apartment. neither of us had credit. sadly, i think i\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’m the one that pursued this.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwe found a place in greenpoint. i “borrowed” 3,000 dollars from my cousin for the down payment.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni haven\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t paid her back.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwe needed furniture. the same cousin was the trust on a will. she gave us all the furniture the relatives of the dead guy didn\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t want. we stood outside and picked out the furniture we wanted before it went to the dump. the furniture was very burnt, the man had died in a fire. but it was old and wood, and after a lot of scrubbing it was good again.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwe had 2 floors in greenpoint. it was our own little house. it was 1200 dollars and we could barely pay it, which was strange as the $350 at the riverview equaled out to more.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni tried anal sex for the first time in greenpoint. her ass was fantastic, but shit would always come out. i had new respect for “shit happens” and understood the deeper meaning of this cliche eighties phrase.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni got bored. i got bored with sex. i got bored with her intolerance for anything different. i got bored with her fear. i got bored with her hatred of my friends. i got bored with her.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni have a habit of cutting myself. my body is filled with these scars.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nat some point, aronne was fired from her bar. she was re-hired with much limited shifts at a new one a friend of mine was managing.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\none night while living in greenpoint i stayed out. i ditched her and made out with some girl while snorting blow. when i came back to the apartment we were in she had left. she had said to them “MIKE DOESN\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS! MIKE DOESN\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’T COME HOME AFTER 1AM! MIKE DOESN\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’T LEAVE ME!”\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwhen i came home that afternoon she was gone. i found out she had checked herself into a hospital. she had cut herself.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nshe had found her way to carmens with her wrists wrapped. she had missed a shift at her bar. though the bar claimed to understand, they cut her hours to one night a week making up a different excuse.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni didn\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’t want to be with her anymore. but she was unstable. in greenpoint the lease was up, we had barely paid the rent and the landlord had given the keys to realtors as a hint. after another intrusion from realtors, i wandered down the stairs naked and after that the realtors stopped. still, we knew we had to get out and now my girlfriend was damaged and insane.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwe got a place in deep bushwick. the rent was 900. she thought it was something we could pay together, i knew it was something she could pay herself.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nafter her “wrist incident” we swore together we would stop drinking and drugs. within the month she had a job at a restaurant that thrives on memory of it\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’s hipness. after a month i did heroin and drank, came home and said “So?\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’. she said i had to leave. i left for a week.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nshe changed the locks and stole all my shit. \\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\ni would find out through a friend that she felt she was justified as i had left her with the rent. she left me my bag of writing left outside the door after i requested. she never had an identity, maybe she got one when she stole all my shit.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nthat month where i fucked her in bushwick was wrong, because i no longer loved her. but i was worried she would hurt herself.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\nwell, that\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\’s the year i forgot. and fuck you i forgot the details.\\\\\\\\r\\\\\\\\n

Read from the beginning

Read from the latest installment

RENT 2 – BEDFORD BOOGALOO
Dir – Joel Schumaker
Starring – Haley Joel Osmont, Hayden Panateri, Mary & Ashley Kay Olson, Rory Culkin, John Turtorro

Seymour Lawson produced Rent 2 after a long-running legal battle. To quote Sir Thomas More, “What Hath Man Wrought?” And why must they ride bicycles?

It’s striking to this reviewer how much Rent 2 has in common with Grease 2. Both change the time & place of the original in small increments. Yet both have no relationship to the original except for plot and thematic similarities.

It’s the summer of 2000 in New York City. Austin, Jon, Ashton, Jesus, Mimi and gang are living in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

Our singing and dancing stars share a 1 floor loft of a rent-stabilized building on the prominently displayed Bedford Avenue (a.k.a “Bedford Boogaloo”). Though struggling artists all, they share an affinity both for song, dance, and expensive yuppie bistro food (Life in the original, Planet Thai in the sequel.)

Our conflict comes in 2 forms. The first is a greedy Hasidic landlord who wants to evict the kids & renovate for more RENT. Played by John Turtorro, mimicking the exact same character he played in “The Gentrifiers”, Turtorro seems dead set to strive for the elusive “Lifetime Achievement for Promoting Anti-Semitism.”

The second, less odious conflict involves Culkin’s character, who has chosen to abandon “art” to get a “norm job” in the financial area. The conflicts this causes threatens to tear the group apart. Or at least that’s what they sing to us.

In a bizarre twist, the September 11 attacks are substituted for AIDS as a way to kill off some of the characters, which leads to a musical number about the infamous attack; sung as office debris reigns down upon them.

But don’t turn the film off in the first 20 minutes as you’ll then miss my favorite part: A song by the entire cast sung while riding bicycles. The song, “Ghost Bike! (We mourn you); seems to be both an epic and ballad concerning bicycle riding in Brooklyn. This is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen.

And so ends Rent 2, a film that somehow manages to be more maudlin and offensive then the original.

DVD Extras – “A Musical Critical Mass – The Making of ‘The Bike Scene’” Featurette, “Billy Burg – We’re Hip! We’re Beautiful! And We’re Here To Stay!” Deleted song and scene, “9-11 – The Featurette” (Features cast members Rory Culkin and the Olson Twins giving their observations and feeling about that day)

I’d like to submit a new term for the urban dictionary of life:

iPod Fart - The phenomenon of loudly farting in public under a subconscious pretense that if you can’t hear it, no one can.

Sentence - “I had an iPod fart on the train today. It was embarrassing, but I got the 2 seats next to me.

I found this thread via Google and have read all the posts with rapt interest. I’ve never before been exposed to a community of opinion that is so opposed to file sharing. It’s been an eye-opener.

The main argument I’m seeing here, is the theory that music costs money to make, and those involved in the production need to be compensated for their work. A secondary argument is that file sharing, by it’s nature, prevents compensation and is thereby stealing. A third suggestion I’ve seen is that artists will not make work if they are not receiving adequate compensation to dedicate the time needed to make great art. (An argument, I believe, that ironically propelled the creation of much copyright law that exists today. I say ironically because so little copyright law, in practice, actually monetarily protects the person who made the art.)

I disagree with almost everything in the above paragraph. But it’s going to take me a while to deconstruct it.

The first misconception is that the artist, if not compensated will no longer create. Any artist of a decent caliber creates their great works because they have to create, not because they want a big fancy house (not that anyone’s turning down big fancy houses if offered.) If you took all the money from artists away, you’d still have writers, painters, musicians, and actors all still struggling to create, and their work would still be appreciated by their fans. And, it would still be great.

And that’s the core relationship. The one between the artist, and the fan (or listener, or appreciator, or reader, or viewer, or whatever word applies to the art). That relationship has always existed throughout history, and nothing that has or is happening in this technological revolution is going to change that.

However, there is another piece to this relationship. A big piece. That is the people that come in between and facilitate the relationship. This piece has also always existed. A writer needs a publisher, a painter needs a gallery, a playwright needs a theater, etc. It’s also in this part of the process where money so often is exchanged. The theater owner charges tickets for his theater, the audience happily pays, the playwright gets a cut.

How much the artist gets versus how much the middle men get, and how much the audience has to pay is always in flux.

Also, when an art is popular enough, completely useless middle men get created due to the sheer profit, volume and popularity of the art being created (think record label executives, entertainment lawyers, and the entire concept of Ticketmaster.)

Right now, the relationship between artist and fan is better then it’s ever been. The artist is now in much better control of his/her message thanks to the internet and has a much more direct line of communication with the fans. What’s in incredible flux, however, is the middle men. They, by this technological revolution, are getting completely knocked around.

What I’m seeing on this forum is a bunch of middle men, who are about to be replaced, standing around and screaming “THIEF!” instead of trying to jump in to the revolution. Which is a shame, because how this shakes down in the coming years is going to mean a lot of money to the right people in the right places, and it just involves repositioning yourself.

I’m going to give you some free advice, as I’m a nice hippie anarchist :

1) Now that we’ve established that artists are always going to create and audiences will always want to pay (yes, they will always want to pay in one way or another), think to yourself, “how can I reposition myself back in the middle of this stream/relationship?” With this question in mind, think about the old way that the art was being delivered, and now look at the new way. What was you old job? Is it going to be needed if the new way is the only way? (Assume the new way will be the only way within 10 years). If not, how can what you are doing translate into the new way of doing things?

2) If you are becoming dispirited by these simple realities, remind yourself that someone is going to make an awful lot of money off the new way of doing things. Right now 3 of those someone’s are Broadband ISP providers, MySpace and Apple, as examples. But those are hardly the only 3 and the power will shift and turn as new ways of transmitting art evolve. Think about all that money! You greedy middlemen bastards! Maybe thinking about it long enough will inspire you to finally get creative and think of a way to jump in on this!

3) Try not to get too caught up in wishing laws were implemented or fighting a fight against a revolution that’s going to happen anyway. Even if you sued the shit out of every little kid you could find, and successfully stopped every ardent fan from redistributing their favorite band to their friends, this revolution would still happen a few years later and you’d again find yourself making less money and now staring down the barrel of a technology behemoth like Google. If you just stay stuck in cement yelling thief you’re going to watch as all of your relevance fades away as you get older and older. At that point, why not retire? It’s a young man’s game, after all.

I know I sound harsh and condescending, but none of you have been particularly nice in reacting to the rather rational kid in this thread who is merely trying to, like me, get you to think a lot differently then you are now. You already lost the old business model, it’s just taking a while to completely die. But this is most certainly an opportunity disguised as a crises, and people will come out on top and the same amount of money is going to be spent by consumers on entertainment, it’s just a question of how and where they spend it, and where you sit in that relationship to make money.

Finally, research your competition. Go hang out in p2p communities. Try the clients and software. Check out the torrent sites. While doing it, ask yourself, what are they doing right but, more importantly, what do they suck at? People will always choose the easiest path to their favorite artists. The iTunes music store isn’t succeeding because people are “moral” or “immoral”, it’s succeeding because it’s incredibly easy to get the song, have it labeled perfectly with album art, and have it placed on their ipod. But I think there are other ways the store isn’t there yet, and there are still a lot of functions the p2p scene lacks as the main distributor of music to the next generation. A TON of features, in fact. You very much can compete with, and beat, free.