Mathew Browne

I had a discussion with Liam (a friend of mine who is doing a PhD in peer-to-peer networks - yes, really) about the legality of file sharing yesterday. We both concluded that it’s becoming an increasingly risky gamble for users, especially the less technically minded. Though the chances of getting caught seem slim, the repurcussions if you are caught are enormous. Did you know that you could be sued for $150,000 for each film you are caught downloading? Scary, isn’t it? It is easy to dismiss such huge figures as propaganda peddled by the film studios and record companies to scare people away from file sharing, but we are talking about people who have sued children and settled out of court for thousands of dollars. There is one woman in America currently facing bankruptcy over a $620,000 suit. It’s just not worth doing it anymore. The system is flawed, but not all of it is against the downloaders…

When using Bit Torrent, you download files bit by bit. However, while downloading you also upload the bits you have to other users. Hence the term file sharing.

Let’s say the MPAA manage to get hold of the logs for a Bit Torrent tracker, and in these logs they find that somebody at your IP address downloaded a film. (For arguments sake, let’s say it was Ocean’s Eleven.) A few days or weeks later, you get a letter from their lawyers saying they’re suing you for several thousand dollars because you downloaded - and by using Bit Torrent also helped distribute - Ocean’s Eleven, which is their coyrighted material.

How do they prove you downloaded their copyrighted material? All they can prove is that you downloaded a file called Ocean’s Eleven. They can only know it was copyrighted material if you had uploaded some of the film to them. As they hold the copyright for the film, they aren’t guilty of copyright infringement. Herein lies the chance to fuck with them.

What somebody needs to do is modify Bit Torrent such that each user generates some random material that is unique to them, but not identifiable. (For example, a few frames of random static would be suitable. A few frames of someone’s actual, personal home video footage would be very, very stupid.) Then, this material is sent as a header to all outgoing connections. Therefore, if the MPAA wants to prove you have Ocean’s Eleven, they first have to download your random static video. And as this video is your copyrighted material, that makes them guilty of copyright infringement.

So if they did this, and resultantly you get sued for thousands of dollars for copyright infringement, in theory you could countersue for infringing your copyright. Of course, your copyrighted material is worthless, unlike theirs, so this would never work in practice. However, in pursuit of a lawsuit against you, they would be forced to acknowledge that they have committed a criminal offence as well.

A question to ask oneself is: “If I’m volunteering this video to them by sharing it online, then are they guilty of infringing my copyright?” Well, if you give someone a knife and tell them to kill you, are they a murderer if they actually do it? Of course they are. More to the point, rumours are rife that a major Hollywood film studio is using this very technique to catch people out. Of course, it could be propaganda to scare people away, but they’re sufficiently mercenary (what with suing kids and all) that it could well be true - allegedly they are seeding Bit Torrent files of their own copyrighted material (*cough* popular TV shows that have recently been released on DVD *cough*) with the goal of acquiring thousands of IP addresses, and the aim of filing a massive lawsuit sometime in the near future. (So, avoid downloading a California-based popular TV series with a two-letter acronym, if you catch my drift) Furthermore, the files are only 98% complete; there are gaps at strategically placed points to make following the stories - and burning to DVD, at least to the Average Joe - impossible.

If only they stopped lining their lawyers pockets and put the money towards a system that works, then everyone would be happy. Of course, if that ever happens it is years away. Today they’re too busy suing people.

This must be a mistimed April Fool… right?

When I left the flat this morning I spotted a notice advising residents that Thames TV was filming an episode of The Bill in my area all day Monday. How cool.

It’s really belting it down outside. If it rained any harder I’d need gills to breathe. Unimpressed.

Got a brand new teaching pack to make at work now - something about mathematics in medical imaging. The challenge is making that look fun, because it certainly doesn’t sound it.

I’m feeling creative, I think I’ll break out the easel and paints at the weekend. I haven’t painted for about 4 months now, though having said that I’d gone about 6 years prior to that. My last painting was a somewhat-unsuccessful attempt at the Northern Lights. I used Interference acrylic paints, which give a shimmering effect and reflect light at different angles. In theory it should have turned out great. Unfortunately, it didn’t - I painted over the Interference with black and it made the black shimmer too, which is really stupid considering I was trying to paint a silhouette.

I just found out I’m being moved to a small desk on the second floor. Great.

Click here to see the greatest Christmas present ever

I got a call from my solicitor this morning saying that my **** of an ex-landlord has agreed to settle the legal claim out of court. Of course, there is still scope for him to still be an idiot about it - such as not telling the court the case is over, or refusing to pay the settlement amount - but hopefully this whole mess will be officially over very shortly.

I am so relieved.

The Northern Line finally reopened, but was predictably packed. Some idiot was standing way over the yellow line, so his shoulder and the bag over it was in the path of the oncoming train. Oblivious to this, he stood there until a nearby good samaritan forcibly pulled him away with all of one second spare. Should have pushed him, the prat.

I have started compiling a list of what I want for Christmas. It may seem early but Sainsburys now stock crackers, therefore it’s officially the run up to Christmas. Only three things populating said list right now. Must think.

Fortean Times reported a great story today about an image of the Pope appearing in a pancake. I simply had to post the picture. I mean, look at it! I need to cook more… maybe the face of God himself will appear on the underside of an overcooked fried egg that I can sell on eBay to an internet casino and make a tidy wad of cash.

I just watched a fantastic episode of South Park where some kid sells Cartman his pubes. Cartman does this because he wants to be a man, not knowing that you have to grow your own rather than buy them. So the rest of the episode revolves around Cartman trying unsuccessfully to get revenge on the kid, right until the end, where he finally gets his revenge by getting the kid’s parents shot dead. I’m so not doing it justice. I forget how funny South Park was, back in the day.

Work is a bit stop-and-start right now. We’re nearing the end of the work I’ve been doing for the last few months, and submitting a grant proposal for more funding, so I’m spending frantic half-hours completing “urgent” work then waiting a few more hours for dsome delegated tasks to trickle in.

This is probably my dullest entry yet…

My stupid laptop decided to go into an infinite loop of rebooting at the Windows screen yesterday. Six hours, 10 frantic phone calls to Liam and the technical support people, and four additional Windows installations later, I managed to get into safe mode to back up all my work. And what happens when I turn the laptop off and reboot again? Fucking works perfectly doesn’t it. Quite what the sodding problem was in the first place, I don’t know.

I spent the rest of the day preparing a 25-page defence to my ex-landlord’s counterclaim. (Granted, 15 of those pages are merely documents I’m including, but still) I have written confirmation from the letting agent that I never signed either inventory, and they also sent me copies of visual inspections done during the tenancy which basically say that everything was in good condition. They’re also working on providing me a reference of good tenancy, which should surely work in my favour. Feeling a lot better about the case now, but not resting on my laurels that it will go my way.

The missus is shelling out £8 a day to get a peak hour zones 1-3 travel card, seeing as the goons at TFL (that’s Transport For London for all you provincial types) have failed to deliver her student card. How nice of them.

This is now officially the longest I’ve ever been away from Wales. Over six months and counting. In my late teenage years I grew to hate living there, but going back to visit is nice. Plus, there’s the obvious benefit of Mum’s cooking. Mmm.

My Mum always cooks far too much on the off chance you’ll be hungrier than usual, and takes it personally if you don’t try to eat yourself to sumo proportions at the table. Kinda like Mrs. Doyle from Father Ted. She once cooked 20 chicken drumsticks for 4 people, along with a huge amount of vegetables and about two pints of gravy. It was lovely though. I’ve made myself hungry now, and it’s only just gone 9 in the morning.

It started off shit, but this evening we’ve been treated to a vast, free fireworks display from the other side of the dock. I suspect it’s come from Excel but I don’t know…

Oh well, it’s free.

Read the previous message.

Now Louise’s laptop refuses to come out of sleep mode. Karma, no?

And then I stepped on a staple. That wasn’t much fun, let me tell you. surprisingly little blood though, despite the depth of the wound.

Some fat Canary Wharf gimp got on the tube this afternoon and promptly plonked himself against the wall, crushing the roses I’d bought for Louise as it’s our anniversary. I asked him to move, he merely rolled his eyes, shuffled a bit and sniffed, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact. And never breaking contact with the wall, ensuring that the roses were sandwiched for the rest of my journey. Perhaps even more annoyingly, despite the fact the tube was rather crammed, he opens up a massive broadsheet in front of him, nearly having several people’s eyes out. One poor guy had to tilt his head back to the point where he was almost looking straight up, just to avoid getting paper cuts all over his mug.

I wasn’t impressed. Neither were my fellow passengers. But I got my revenge.

We stop at Canning Town - where I change for the Docklands Light Railway. I pull the remains of the roses from between Bloated Gimp and the tube wall. He shrugs his shoulders and sighs as if vertical-steamrollering my flowers inconveniences him more than me. Bloated Gimp isn’t getting off, but helpfully stays almost omnipresent in his blocking of the door. As the train slows to a halt I position my right foot behind his laptop case, which was on the floor next to the door. Can you see what’s coming? Doors open. Aaaaaaand… SMACK! I stride out, booting his laptop so hard it made an audible crack, and knocking it about a foot onto the platform. And the beautiful thing is, I made it look like an accident. Eyes straightforward, I then made a hasty getaway, ignoring cries of “Oi! Ginger! Watch it! Oi!” and boarded my connecting train.

Math: 1, Bloated Gimp: 0.