Mp3 Quotes

It doesn’t matter how long we’ve used something; all that matters is how awesome the thing replacing it is. MP3s and automobiles happen to be really, really awesome, whereas ebooks—at least so far—are fairly limited in their awesomeness.

Until recently, I was an ebook sceptic, see; one of those people who harrumphs about the “physical pleasure of turning actual pages” and how ebook will “never replace the real thing”. Then I was given a Kindle as a present. That shut me up. Stock complaints about the inherent pleasure of ye olde format are bandied about whenever some new upstart invention comes along. Each moan is nothing more than a little foetus of nostalgia jerking in your gut. First they said CDs were no match for vinyl. Then they said MP3s were no match for CDs. Now they say streaming music services are no match for MP3s. They’re only happy looking in the rear-view mirror.

If I had an .MP3 of your heartbeat… I might actually get some sleep.

I pulled out my mp3 player and stuck the buds in, and letting out a big breath, I started to scroll through my music for something appropriate to kill by. John Tesh, it is.

But for me, if we're talking about romance, cassettes wipe the floor with MP3s. This has nothing to do with superstition, or nostalgia. MP3s buzz straight to your brain. That's part of what I love about them. But the rhythm of the mix tape is the rhythm of romance, the analog hum of a physical connection between two sloppy human bodies. The cassette is full of tape hiss and room tone; it's full of wasted space, unnecessary noise. Compared to the go-go-go rhythm of an MP3, mix tapes are hopelessly inefficient. You go back to a cassette the way a detective sits and pours drinks for the elderly motel clerk who tells stories about the old days--you know you might be somewhat bored, but there might be a clue in there somewhere. And if there isn't, what the hell? It's not a bad time. You know you will waste time. You plan on it.

I hate when people act like music is nothing but wild creativity," Logan said. "That's bullshit. It's also about counting and measuring and calibrating. If you do it right." He passed his hand over my MP3 player sitting on the bed between us. It was playing Mozart to help my concentration. "And if you do it really right, no one can tell how hard it is for you. You can let them believe it's magic, because that means you must be magic. You're worth worshipping.

It’s great that a song now costs exactly the same as a pack of gum and lasts exactly the same amount of time before it loses its flavour and you have to spend another buck.

And they got blackout drunk one night and it just happened. It was basically an accident, and he gave me the most sincere and moving confession of all time, swore to God he loved me so much and would do anything to convince me, blah blah blah, but it didn’t matter, I kept thinking about it and running it through my head and just burning with it. I cried every night for weeks. Practically wore the binary off all my saddest Mp3s.

Choosing sides, the captain of the Red Team says, “We’ll give you our best -pitcher.…” And we’ll take the kid who picks his nose and eats it. And we’ll take the kid who smells like piss. We’ll take the leper and the left-handed Satanist and the HIV-infected hemophiliac and the hermaphrodite and the pedophile. We’ll take drug addiction and we’ll take JPEGs of the world instead of the world, MP3s instead of music, and we’ll trade real life for sitting at a keyboard. We’ll spot you happiness and we’ll spot you humanity, and we’ll sacrifice mercy just so long as you keep Cannibal at bay.

Christopher turned the volume up on the MP3 player strapped to his arm and ran to the beat of his Spotify playlist. Adele was the next artist to shuffle on and he wondered why all killers depicted in television dramas only ever listened to angry, shouty, heavy metal music—in the same way that all fictitious black criminals only ever listened to rap. Nobody ever killed or robbed a bank to the sounds of Rihanna or Justin Bieber.

The problem was, they advertised their product as a “5GB mp3 player.” It is exactly the same message as Apple’s “1,000 songs in your pocket.” The difference is Creative told us WHAT their product was and Apple told us WHY we needed it.

The worst mark you can recieve is a promise, especially when it is confirmed with an oath; after which every man retires, and gives over all hopes. (referring to Chief Minister of State)

They all agreed, that I could not be produced according to the regular laws of nature; because I was not framed with a capacity of preserving my life, either by swiftness, or climbing of trees, or digging holes in the earth.

... he never tells a truth, but with an intent that you should take it for a lye; nor a lye, but with the design that you should take it for a truth...

La tv ci ha diviso, il cellulare ha cambiato i rapporti, i lettori mp3 aumentano l'incomunicabilità.

It’s got a built-in MP3 player and I loaded it up with a ton of songs for you.

Edison invented the lightbulb the way Steve Jobs invented the MP3 player: he wasn’t the first, but he was the first to make something that took off in the marketplace. So

If “piracy” means using value from someone else’s creative property without permission from that creator–as it is increasingly described today – then every industry affected by copyright today is the product and beneficiary of a certain kind of piracy. Film, records, radio, cable TV… Extremists in this debate love to say “You wouldn’t go into Barnes & Noble and take a book off of the shelf without paying; why should it be any different with online music?” The difference is, of course, that when you take a book from Barnes & Noble, it has one less book to sell. By contrast, when you take an MP3 from a computer network, there is not one less CD that can be sold. The physics of piracy of the intangible are different from the physics of piracy of the tangible.

In the end, the record companies have the power to control the quality that is served online. Online service has been problematic in that it actively or discreetly promotes trading and duplication of music. It is not offensive to me that the MP3-quaility sound is traded around. It is, in my opinion, the new radio and serves a great purpose: making music lovers away of the content tat is out there to buy. If the consumers want it, let tham take it, whatever quality they prefer. Ultimately, nothing can stop absolute quality from making a big comeback. The stage is well set. I believe in what I am trying to do and that good Karma will come from it. It is just a matter of time.

It is allowed on all hands, that the primitive way of breaking eggs before we eat them, was upon the larger end: but his present Majesty's grand-father, while he was a boy, going to eat an egg, and breaking it according to the ancient practice, happened to cut one of his fingers. Whereupon the emperor his father, published an edict, commanding all his subjects to, upon great penalties, to break the smaller end of their eggs. The people so highly resented this law, that our histories tell us, there have been six rebellions raised on that account; wherein one emperor lost his life, and another his crown.

When someone takes your car, they have the car and you do not. When, because of some new technology, someone is able to get access to the MP3 file of your new song, they have the file and so do you. You did not lose the song. What you may have lost is the opportunity to sell the song to that person or to the people with whom they “share” the file.

Six pints of bitter.' said Ford Prefect to the barman of the Horse and Groom. 'And quickly please, the world's about to end.

Ne pas se faire quelques ennemis de temps en temps, c'est de la lâcheté ou de l'hypocrisie.

Whoever can there bring sufficient proof, that he hath strictly observed the laws of his country for seventy-three moons, hath a claim to certain privileges, according to his quality and condition of life, with a proportionable sum of money out of a fund appropriated for that use: he likewise acquires the title of Snilpall, or Legal, which is added to his name, but doth not descent to his posterity. And these people thought it a prodigious defect of policy aoung us, when I told the, that our laws were enforced only by penalities, without any mention of a reward.

The deletions included acorn, adder, ash, beech, bluebell, buttercup, catkin, conker, cowslip, cygnet, dandelion, fern, hazel, heather, heron, ivy, kingfisher, lark, mistletoe, nectar, newt, otter, pasture and willow. The words introduced to the new edition included attachment, block-graph, blog, broadband, bullet-point, celebrity, chatroom, committee, cut-and-paste, MP3 player and voice-mail.

Normally the first to read the small print, I had deliberately hidden away any paperwork that referred to this ridiculous task, and now I found myself kissing goodbye to a laptop, a mobile phone and two fully-loaded MP3 players, not to mention the halogen light that allowed me to work through the night if I so desired.   I stared disconsolately out over the shimmering tarmac and   wondered if I might be granted permission to shave my legs.

Not so long ago a psychiatrist told me that one of the marks of an adult who has never properly grown up is an inability to wait, and a whole therapeutic movement has been built on that one insight alone. Because music takes or demands our time and depends on carefully timed relations between notes, it cannot be rushed. It schools us in the art of patience. Certainly we can play or sing a piece of music faster. But we can do this only to a very limited degree before the piece becomes incoherent. Given today’s technology we can cut and paste, we can hop from track to track on the MP3 player, flip from one song to another, and download highlights of a three-hour opera. But few would claim they hear a piece of music in its integrity that way. Music says to us: “There are things you will learn only by passing through this process, by being caught up in this series of relations and transformations.”34 Music requires my time, my flesh, and my blood for its performance and enjoyment, and this means going at its speed. Simone Weil described music as “time that one wants neither to arrest nor hasten.”35 In an interview, speaking of the tendency of our culture to think that music is there simply to “wash over” us, the composer James MacMillan remarked: “[Music] needs us to sacrifice something of ourselves to meet it, and it’s very difficult sometimes to do that, especially [in] the whole culture we’re in. Sacrifice and self-sacrifice—certainly sacrificing your time—is not valued any more.”36

I put music on in the morning, just that it sets the tone for the rest of the day. It’s very simple but also sort of complicated to explain: I believe that we can choose our moods: because we are aware that there are several mood-strata and we have the means to gain access to them. For example, to write a profound thought, I have to put myself onto a very special stratum, otherwise the ideas and words just don’t come. I have to forget myself and at the same time be superconcentrated. But it’s not a question of “the will,” it’s a mechanism I can set in motion or not, like scratching my nose or doing a backward roll. And to activate the mechanism there’s nothing better than a little music. For example, to relax, I put on something that takes me into a sort of faraway mood, where things can’t really reach me, where I can look at them as if I were watching a film: a “detached” stratum of consciousness. In general, for that particular stratum, I resort to jazz or, more effective overall but longer to take effect: Dire Straits (long live my mp3 player).

There's an analogy to be made between our craving for story and our craving for food. A tendency to overeat served our ancestors well when food shortages were a predictable part of life. But now that we modern desk jockeys are awash in cheap grease and corn syrup, overeating is more likely to fatten us up and kill us young. Likewise, it could be that an intense greed for story was healthy for our ancestors but has some harmful consequences in a world where books, MP3 players, TVs, and iPhones make story omnipresent - and where we have, in romance novels and television shows such as Jersey Shore, something like the story equivalent of deep-fried Twinkies. I think the literary scholar Brian Boyd is right to wonder if overconsumimg in a world awash with junk story could lead to something like a "mental diabetes epidemic." Similarly, as digital technology evolves, our stories - ubiquitous, immersive, interactive - may become dangerously attractive. The real threat isn't that story will fade out of human life in the future; its that story will take it over completely.

All these processes are helped along by another friend of the earth, dematerialization. Progress in technology allows us to do more with less. An aluminum soda can used to weight three ounces; today it weighs less than half an ounce. Mobile phones don't need miles of telephone poles and wires. The digital revolution, by replacing atoms with bits, is dematerializing the world in front of our eyes. The cubic yards of vinyl that used to be my music collection gave way to cubic inches of compact disks and then to the nothingness of MP3s. The river of newsprint flowing through my apartment has been stanched by an iPad. With a terabyte of storage on my laptop I no longer buy paper by the ten-ream box. And just think of all the plastic, metal, and paper that no longer go into the forty-odd consumer products that can be replaced by a single smartphone, including a telephone, answering machine, phone book, camera, camcorder, tape recorder, radio, alarm clock, calculator, dictionary, Rolodex, calendar, street maps, flashlight, fax, and compass--even a metronome, outdoor thermometer, and spirit level.

Freenet is unlike any other anonymizing beast on the entire internet. It takes quite a wizardly mind to crack its protection and to that, it is a bit like chess: easy to grasp the basics, long and difficult to become a master. Built in 2000, Freenet is a vast, encrypted datastore spanning thousands of connected computers across the globe, all distributing encrypted contents from one computer to another. To this end, it is somewhat similar to a P2P program like Emule. Except with eEule, every file, whether it mp3, rar or iso is out there in the open for

The heat I had contracted by coming very near the flames, and by my labouring to quench them, made the wine begin to operate by urine; which I voided in such a quantity, and applied so well to the proper places, that in three minutes the fire was wholly extinguished; and the rest of that noble pile, which had cost so many ages in erecting, preserved from destruction.

... in open breach of the said law, under the colour of extinguishing the fire kindled in the apartment of his Majesty's most dear imperial consort, did maliciously, traitorously, and devilishly, by discharge of his urine, put out the said fire kindled in the said apartment, lying and being within the precincts of the said royal palace; against the statute in that case provided...

I am Majikthise!" announced the older one. "And I demand that I am Vroomfondel!" shouted the younger one. Majikthise turned on Vroomfondel. "It's alright," he explained angrily, "you don't need to demand that." "Alright!" bawled Vroomfondel banging on an nearby desk. "I am Vroomfondel, and that is not a demand, that is a solid fact! What we demand is solid facts!" "No we don't!" exclaimed Majikthise in irritation. "That is precisely what we don't demand!" Scarcely pausing for breath, Vroomfondel shouted, "We don't demand solid facts! What we demand is a total absence of solid facts. I demand that I may or may not be Vroomfondel!

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The larger point is whatever worthless degree somebody inevitably chooses, ultimately it is nothing more than an admission of laziness. Declaring a worthless major is simply shouting out to the world, “I’m a parasite and have no intentions of working for a living. I want to do what I want to do and I want the rest of you to pay for it. I ultimately want to produce nothing society wants, but in return I demand other people slave away to make me MP3 players, computers, video games, as well as engineer hybrid cars and whatever else I want. I also want society to create some make-work job for me so my ego isn’t bruised and I can make-believe I’m a real-word-live adult too. And if you dare point out what I'm doing in the real world is nothing more than parasiting off of others, I'll cowardly hide myself behind some altruistic crusade and accuse you of being a racist, a misogynist, or a hater of children.

cualificada que Apple para lanzar un producto musical digital. El problema estuvo en que anunciaron su producto como el «reproductor mp3 de 5 GB», que es exactamente el mismo mensaje de Apple de las «1.000 canciones en tu bolsillo»; la diferencia estriba en que Creative nos contó QUÉ era su producto, mientras que Apple nos habló de POR QUÉ lo necesitábamos.

The notion that a story should unfold over the course of two or three hundred pages was as antiquated as the idea that a band’s musical output should consist of four or five songs on one side of a piece of vinyl, and then four or five slightly more experimental and intelligent songs on the other side. Albums used to make sense; they used to hang together as a body of work, and this had something to do with the fact that vinyl records could only hold eight or ten songs. Digital music changed all that. A quote-unquote album could now hold two mp3s or two hundred.

I am happy with my books, personal dairy, mp3, in my room with personal stuff... Because these are the reason of my courage, support and happiness even when I really need a mortal human body to be with me for advice, guidance to listen, even to speak. I found nothing but those thing around me.. As those temporary non living things are more valuable for me than those who were valuable for me but previously.

Give me a bottle of Mountain Dew, an MP3 player hammering out something by VNV Nation, and a crate of Pringles: that’s like being at home. Give me root access on a hostile necromancer’s server farm, and I am at home.

Edison invented the lightbulb the way Steve Jobs invented the MP3 player: he wasn’t the first, but he was the first to make something that took off in the marketplace.

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Integrated microphone and one-button control, for easy control of music and calls. Compatible with iPhone, iPad, iPod, Android phone, Samsung, HTC, MP3, MP4 and all 3.5mm jack devices

La narrazione della realtà virtuale come sinonimo di metaverso va smantellata. Non è virtuale. Non è aumentato. Non è fisico. Non è misto. È TUTTE queste cose. Inoltre, suggerisco di non pensare al metaverso come a una nuova tecnologia, quanto piuttosto a una convergenza di tecnologie preesistenti in un unico paradigma. Ricordi il primo iPhone? Non aveva nulla di innovativo. L’innovazione era quella di far convergere, in un unico device, tecnologie pre-esistenti (camere digitali, mp3 player, ecc.). NFT, Web 3.0, blockchain, decentralizzazione, DAO, DeFi… Tutto questo è metaverso. La realtà virtuale è un pezzetto infinitesimale.

Quand je bois, je bois trop, quand je fume, je me bousille, quand j'aime, je perds la raison et quand je travaille, je me tue...Je ne sais rien faire normalement sereinement, je... - Et quand tu détestes? - Ça je sais pas... - Je croyais que tu me détestais, moi? - Pas encore, sourit-elle, pas encore...Tu verras quand ça arrivera...Tu verras la différence...

D'abord, tu penserais que c'est un mec. Comme la première fois. Peut-être pas une folle, mais un type vachement efféminé quand même...Donc t'arrêterais de mater. Quoique...Tu aurais des doutes malgré tout...À cause de ses mains, de son cou, de cette façon qu'il avait de promener l'ongle de son pouce sur sa lèvre inférieure...Oui, tu hésiterais...C'était peut-être une fille finalement? Une fille habillée en sac. Comme si elle cherchait à cacher son corps Tu essayerais de regarder ailleurs mais tu ne pourrais pas t'empêcher d'y revenir. Parce qu'il y avait une run, là...L'air était spécial autour de cette personne. Ou la lumière peut-être? Voilà. C'était ça.

Mais entre cuisiniers, vous parlez quand même? Vous vous racontez vos expériences? - Pas tellement... On est pas très bavards, tu sais...On est trop crevés pour jacter. On se montre des trucs, des tours de mains, on échange des idées, des morceaux de recettes qu'on a piquées ici ou là, mais ça va rarement plus loin... - C'est dommage... - Si on savait s'exprimer, faire des belles phrases et tout ça, on ferait pas ce boulot-là, c'est clair. Enfin moi en tout cas, j'arrêterais tout de suite.

Le chef discutait avec un type super élégant dans son bureau. — C'est déjà un client? — Non, c'est le maître d'hôtel... — Eh ben... Il est drôlement classe... — En salle, ils sont tous beaux...Au début du service, c'est nous qui sommes propres et eux qui passent l'aspirateur en tee-shirt et plus le temps passe, plus la tendance s'inverse: on pue, on devient crades et eux ils passent devant nous, frais comme des gardons, avec leurs brushings et leurs costumes impeccables...

On se saluait chaque matin et l'on se droguait gentiment en rentrant le soir. Shit, herbe, pinard, incunables, Marie-Antoinette ou Heineken, c'était chacun son trip et Marvin pour tous.

Le but, c'est que tu deviennes accro à mon picotin. Que tous les matins tu te lèves en te demandant ce qu'il y aura au menu.

Ce qui empêche les gens de vivre ensemble, c'est leur connerie, pas leurs différences...

Le rire énorme de cette femme, ce travail débile chez Touclean, la Bredart, les histoires abracadabrantes de Carine, les engueulades, les cigarettes échangées, la fatigue physique, leurs fous rires imbéciles et leurs méchantes humeurs quelquefois, tout cela l'aidait à vivre. L'aidait à vivre, oui.

Ils n'étaient pas bavards. Ils n'avaient plus l'habitude de partager leurs repas. Le protocole ne fut donc pas très au point et tous deux eurent du mal à se dépêtrer de leur solitude...Mais c'était des gens bien élevés et ils firent un effort pour porter beau. S'égayèrent, trinquèrent, évoquèrent le quartier.

On copiait démarche, ses gestes, ses coiffures. Elle servit, d'ailleurs, à établir les canons de la beauté, dont toutes les femmes, pendant cent ans, cherchèrent furieusement à se rapprocher: Trois choses blanches: la peau, les dents, les mains. Trois noires: les yeux, les sourcils, les paupières. Trois rouges: les lèvres, les joues, les ongles. Trois longues: le corps, les cheveux, les mains. Trois courtes: les dents, les oreilles, les pieds. Trois étroites: la bouche, la taille, l'entrée du pied. Trois grosses: les bras, les cuisses, le gros de la jambe. Trois petites: le tétin, le nez, la tête

...pour la première fois et tous autant qu'ils étaient, ils eurent l'impression d'avoir une vraie famille. Mieux qu'une vraie d'ailleurs, une choisie, une voulue, une pour laquelle ils s'étaient battus et qui ne leur demandait rien d'autre en échange que d'être heureux ensemble. Même pas heureux d'ailleurs ils n'étaient plus si exigeants. D'être ensemble, c'est tout. Et déjà c'était inespéré.

Bien sûr que non. Quand ils se tiennent mal, on n'est pas obligé d'aimer ses parents. Bien sûr que si. Pourquoi? Ben parce que ce sont tes parents justement... Pff...C'est pas dur d'être parents y suffit de baiser. C'est après que ça se complique...

La main, c'est bien. Ça n'engage pas trop celui qui la donne et ça apaise beaucoup celui qui la reçoit...

Il ne lui répondit qu'une seule fois: 01:16 silence Voulait-il dire: fin du service, paix, calme, ou voulait-il dire: boucle-la?

Bon. Il ne te reste plus que cinq minutes pour arriver à prononcer une phrase de sept mots, c'est faisable, non? Allez, badinait-il pour de faux, si c'est trop, sept, trois me suffiraient...Mais les bons, hein? Merde! J'ai pas composté mon billet...Alors?

Ils seront tous faits quand j'arriverai...Ce qui est amusant, c'est de s'enivrer en même temps que les autres, sinon c'est un peu déprimant...

As we continued to meet with Jeff, we tried various kinds of spreadsheets and PowerPoint slides to present and explore our ideas, none of which seemed to be particularly effective. At some point, I don’t remember exactly when, Jeff suggested a different approach for the next meeting. Forget the spreadsheets and slides, he said. Instead, each team member would write a narrative document. In it, they would describe their best idea for a device or service for the digital media business. The next meeting arrived, and we all showed up with our narratives. (As mentioned, ours was one of several teams involved in the early experimentation with narratives at the company. They were not yet official Amazon policy.) We distributed them and read them to ourselves and then discussed them, one after another. One proposed an e-book reader that would use new E Ink screen technology. Another described a new take on the MP3 player. Jeff wrote his own narrative about a device he called the Amazon Puck. It would sit on your countertop and could respond to voice commands like, “Puck. Please order a gallon of milk.” Puck would then place the order with Amazon. The great revelation of this process was not any one of the product ideas. As we’ve described in chapter four, the breakthrough was the document itself. We had freed ourselves of the quantitative demands of Excel, the visual seduction of PowerPoint, and the distracting effect of personal performance. The idea had to be in the writing. Writing up our ideas was hard work. It required us to be thorough and precise. We had to describe features, pricing, how the service would work, why consumers would want it. Half-baked thinking was harder to disguise on the written page than in PowerPoint slides. It could not be glossed over through personal charm in the presentation. After we started using the documents, our meetings changed. There was more meat and more detail to discuss, so the sessions were livelier and longer. We weren’t so focused on the pro forma P&L and projected market segment share. We talked at length about the service itself, the experience, and which products and services we thought would appeal most to the customer.

If there is such a thing as media theory, there should also be format theory. Writers have too often collapsed discussions of format into their analyses of what is important about a given medium. Format denotes a whole range of decisions that affect the look, feel, experience, and workings of a medium. It

While some of the files were indeed untraceable artifacts from random denizens of the Internet, the vast majority of pirated mp3s came from just a few organized releasing groups.

our use of electronic media—use of televisions, radios, computers, phones, iPods and MP3s, videos, and game players—now accounts for an average of slightly under eight hours (470 minutes) in an average American’s typical twelve-and-a-half-hour day. Over

But for me, if we’re talking about romance, cassettes wipe the floor with MP3s. This has nothing to do with superstition, or nostalgia. MP3s buzz straight to your brain. That’s part of what I love about them. But the rhythm of the mix tape is the rhythm of romance, the analog hum of a physical connection between two sloppy, human bodies. The cassette is full of tape hiss and room tone; it’s full of wasted space, unnecessary noise. Compared to the go-go-go rhythm of an MP3, mix tapes are hopelessly inefficient.

Os participantes das redes de compartilhamento de arquivos compartilham diferentes tipos de conteúdos. Podemos dividi-los em quatro tipos. A-Esses são aqueles que usam as redes P2P como substitutos para a compra de conteúdo. Dessa forma, quando um novo CD da Pitty é lançado, ao invés de comprar o CD, eles simplesmente o copiam. Podemos argumentar se todos os que copiaram as músicas poderiam comprá-las caso o compartilhamento não permitisse baixá-las de graça. Muitos provavelmente não poderiam, mas claramente alguns o fariam. Os últimos são os alvos da categoria A: usuários que baixam conteúdo ao invés de comprá-lo. B-Há alguns que usam as redes de compartilhamento de arquivos para experimentarem música antes de a comprar. Dessa forma, um amigo manda para outro um MP3 de um artista do qual ele nunca ouviu falar. Esse outro amigo então compra CDs desse artistas. Isso é uma forma de publicidade direcionada, e que tem grandes chances de sucesso. Se o amigo que está recomendando a música não ganha nada recomendando porcarias, então pode-se imaginar que suas recomendações sejam realmente boas. O saldo final desse compartilhamento pode aumentar as compras de música. C-Há muitos que usam as redes de compartilhamento de arquivos para conseguirem materiais sob copgright que não são mais vendidos ou que não podem ser comprados ou cujos custos da compra fora da Net seriam muito grandes. Esses uso da rede de compartilhamento de arquivos está entre os mais recompensadores para a maioria. Canções que eram parte de nossa infância mais que desapareceram há muito tempo atrás do mercado magicamente reaparecem na rede. (Um amigo meu me disse que quando ele descobriu o Napster, ele passou um fim de semana inteiro "relembrando" músicas antigas. Ele estava surpreso com a gama e diversidade do conteúdo disponibilizado.) Para conteúdo não vendido, isso ainda é tecnicamente uma violação de copyright, embora já que o dono do copgright não está mais vendendo esse conteúdo, o dano econômico é zero o mesmo dano que ocorre quando eu vendo minha coleção de discos de 45 RPMs dos anos 60 para um colecionador local. D-Finalmente, há muitos que usam as redes de compartilhamento de arquivos para terem acesso a conteúdos que não estão sob copgright ou cujo dono do copyright os disponibilizou gratuitamente. Como esses tipos diferentes de compartilhamento se equilibram? Vamos começar de alguns pontos simples mas importantes. Do ponto de vista legal, apenas o tipo D de compartilhamento é claramente legal. Do ponto de vista econômico, apenas o tipo A de compartilhamento é claramente prejudicial. [78] O tipo B de compartilhamento é ilegal mas claramente benéfico. O tipo C também é ilegal, mas é bom para a sociedade (já que maior exposição à música é bom) e não causa danos aos artistas (já que esse trabalho já não está mais disponível). Portanto, como os tipos de compartilhamento se equilibram é uma pergunta bem difícil de responder e certamente mais difícil do que a retórica envolvida atualmente no assunto sugere.

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At the same Paris trade show, a Philips executive broke it to Grill point-blank: “There will never be a commercial mp3 player.

In April 1997, Justin Frankel, a freshman student at the University of Utah, debuted Winamp, an mp3 player that offered several minor cosmetic improvements to WinPlay3, chiefly the ability to edit playlists.

After some internal discussion, Brandenburg made an executive decision: to promote the mp3 standard, Fraunhofer would simply give L3Enc away. Thousands of floppy disks were made, and these were distributed at trade shows through late 1994 and early 1995. Brandenburg encouraged his team members to distribute the disks to friends, family, colleagues, and even competitors.

Brandenburg quickly realized that, despite the subgroup’s official recommendation, the mp3 was guaranteed nothing. Deliberations continued for the next five hours. The talks grew acrimonious, and once again Brandenburg sensed behind-the-scenes machinations of a political nature. An increasingly agitated Grill repeatedly stopped by the conference room, then left to pace the hall with his colleagues. Finally, a representative from Philips took the floor. His argument was concise: two separate radio standards would lead to fear, uncertainty, and doubt. The whole point

Although earlier computers existed in isolation from the world, requiring their visuals and sound to be generated and live only within their memory, the Amiga was of the world, able to interface with it in all its rich analog glory. It was the first PC with a sufficient screen resolution and color palette as well as memory and processing power to practically store and display full-color photographic representations of the real world, whether they be scanned in from photographs, captured from film or video, or snapped live by a digitizer connected to the machine. It could be used to manipulate video, adding titles, special effects, or other postproduction tricks. And it was also among the first to make practical use of recordings of real-world sound. The seeds of the digital-media future, of digital cameras and Photoshop and MP3 players, are here. The Amiga was the first aesthetically satisfying PC. Although the generation of machines that preceded it were made to do many remarkable things, works produced on them always carried an implied asterisk; “Remarkable,” we say, “. . . for existing on such an absurdly limited platform.” Even the Macintosh, a dramatic leap forward in many ways, nevertheless remained sharply limited by its black-and-white display and its lack of fast animation capabilities. Visuals produced on the Amiga, however, were in full color and could often stand on their own terms, not as art produced under huge technological constraints, but simply as art. And in allowing game programmers to move beyond blocky, garish graphics and crude sound, the Amiga redefined the medium of interactive entertainment as being capable of adult sophistication and artistry. The seeds of the aesthetic future, of computers as everyday artistic tools, ever more attractive computer desktops, and audiovisually rich virtual worlds, are here. The Amiga empowered amateur creators by giving them access to tools heretofore available only to the professional. The platform’s most successful and sustained professional niche was as a video-production workstation, where an Amiga, accompanied by some relatively inexpensive software and hardware peripherals, could give the hobbyist amateur or the frugal professional editing and postproduction capabilities equivalent to equipment costing tens or hundreds of thousands. And much of the graphical and musical creation software available for the machine was truly remarkable. The seeds of the participatory-culture future, of YouTube and Flickr and even the blogosphere, are here. The

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Eventually we discovered Bleeker Bob's in the West Village on 118 West Third Street. One time I was there I literally tried to rip the first Iron Maiden album out of the hands of a friend of mine. [...] I was having a tug-of-war with this guy over who was gonna buy it. [...] If I hadn't won, I would've gone home and gotten my shitty little tape recorder that you have to use two fingers to push play and record on, and I would've brought that to my friend's house and held it in front of a speaker to tape the record so I'd have something to listen to until I could find another copy. Yeah, it'd sound terrible but so what? We didn't know anything else. When I hear people say, 'I hate MP3s, they sound like shit,' I'm like, 'Fuck you, you hae no idea, you first-world-problem-having motherfucker.

...elle se disait que c'était avec elle qu'il aurait dû discuter, à côté d'elle qu'il aurait dû être, à elle qu'il aurait dû sourire.

GGMM Nightingale isn't just for iPods or MP3 players but also for a lecture or novel listening, or take notes from a recorded business meeting, or provides a quiet and private room to enjoy a good book or album; It allows you to have conversations while on the move; Getting fit and healthy is more fun when you listen to your favourite music during your workout. Pick up Nightingale, turn up the volume, and begin your training.

I’ve lived through numerous incarnations of music from vinyl to 8–tracks, cassettes to CDs and now MP3’s. Don’t forget music videos. I was there like the rest of America’s youth, glued to the T.V., watching my favorite songs become mini movies. ~ Keely Fey

In 2011, two years into Bartz’s tenure, a company called Hunch did a study comparing Gmail and Yahoo Mail users. It found that Yahoo Mail users were overweight women aged eighteen to forty-nine who lived in the Midwest and had never traveled outside their own country. They owned CDs. They had high school degrees. Gmail users were typically thin men aged eighteen to thirty-four with college degrees. They lived in cities and had traveled to five or more countries. They had MP3s. Yahoo users liked magazines; Gmail users liked blogs.

Private listening really took off in 1979, with the popularity of the Walkman portable cassette player. Listening to music on a Walkman is a variation of the “sitting very still in a concert hall” experience (there are no acoustic distractions), combined with the virtual space (achieved by adding reverb and echo to the vocals and instruments) that studio recording allows. With headphones on, you can hear and appreciate extreme detail and subtlety, and the lack of uncontrollable reverb inherent in hearing music in a live room means that rhythmic material survives beautifully and completely intact; it doesn’t get blurred or turned into sonic mush as it often does in a concert hall. You, and only you, the audience of one, can hear a million tiny details, even with the compression that MP3 technology adds to recordings. You can hear the singer’s breath intake, their fingers on a guitar string. That said, extreme and sudden dynamic changes can be painful on a personal music player. As

Dennis and Mario, meanwhile, have fallen behind to debate the merits and demerits of Mario’s new phone. ‘The thing you don’t understand about this phone is that it’s state of the art, which means, this is the best phone you can get.’ ‘I do understand that, you moron, I’m saying what’s the point of having a state-of-the-art phone when everyone who’s going to call you on it is living six feet away from you?’ ‘I think what it is, is, you are jealous of my state-of-the-art phone, which has a camera and an MP3 player.’ ‘Mario, if you can’t see why your parents suddenly gave you that gay phone you’re even dimmer than I thought. I mean, think about it, they leave you in school for the entire holiday, and then they give you some rinky-dink piece of plastic so they can talk to you without having to see you face-to-face. They couldn’t say, “We don’t love you” more clearly if they wrote it in skywriting over the rugby pitches.’ ‘That shows what you know, because my parents do love me.’ ‘Well, why did they leave you here over mid-term, then?’ ‘They did not go into it, but they were very specific about it not being because they didn’t love me, and I know because I asked them that very question.

When he saw the content of my MP3 player one afternoon, he laughed so hard he nearly dislodged one of his tubes.

When he saw the contents of my MP3 player one afternoon, he laughed so hard he nearly dislodged one of his tubes.

He also began to store his operating systems on a microSD card inside his encrypted MP3 player: a 32 GB SanDisk microSD, inside an 8 GB SanDisk MP3, inside an encrypted volume. Opening it now required a password and several key files, which were five MP3 songs out of thousands on his player. He had learned this entire setup from Kayla. Despite

Alex Blumberg: What if *I wanted to say 'Hey pull out your phones right now, and I'll show you a picture of what a better podcasting app would look like'? I can't. In other words, podcasts are still the same old MP3s they've always been, and by 'always', I mean, since the dark ages in 2004, when, according to Wikipedia, the word 'podcast' appeared for the first time in history. Matt says 'You're missing the truly big opportunity here - to make your own app - to take podcasting out of the dark ages, reinvent the way we listen.' Matt Mazzeo: Podcasts is frankly a technology that has really core audience on it that just love it, that hasn't broken out into the broader mainstream. Most people aren't podcast listeners. There are a whole bunch of things that are broken there, that you have an opportunity to fix.

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Ali, what’s that tune?” asked Barthol. I suspected he sensed my nervousness. “I like it.” I smiled. He and I had the same taste in music. “Something I found on an old flash drive I bought on Newbury Street. Don’t know the title, but the file was called RickRoll.mp3.” “Oh, I’ve heard of Rick Roll. He was super popular before Ragnarok. It’s wild that you have music from a thousand years ago, isn’t it?

La vérité, c’est que je n’ai jamais vraiment cru au destin. Je me suis toujours demandé si ce n’était pas une incitation à se résigner lorsque la vie vous met à l’épreuve et à se complaire lorsqu’on se trouve du côté des puissants. S’il existe bel et bien un grand projet divin, je le soupçonne d’avoir été conçu à une échelle bien trop vaste pour tenir compte de nos tribulations de pauvres mortels ; je pense que les accidents et les hasards qui émaillent le cours de notre existence ont plus d’incidence que nous ne voulons bien l’admettre, et que le mieux que nous puissions faire, c’est de nous efforcer de suivre le chemin qui nous paraît le plus juste, de bâtir une vie qui ait du sens dans un monde insensé, et de jouer à chaque instant, en faisant preuve d’élégance et de courage, avec les cartes que nous avons en main.

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With free Bollywood Ringtones maker you can choose your desired part from any song then cut and trim according to your need to use notification tone, ringtone or alarm tone. The Bollywood Ringtones that allows users to easily select the start and end ringtone cutting position. Ringtone maker supports cutting MP3, AAC, WAV, M4A. #musicringtonescom #ringtones #ringtonesong #newringtone #mp3ringtone #mobileringtone

If there has been a compositional response to MP3s and the era of private listening, I have yet to hear it. One would expect music that is essentially a soothing flood of ambient moods as a way to relax and decompress, or maybe dense and complex compositions that reward repeated playing and attentive listening, maybe intimate or rudely erotic vocals that would be inappropriate to blast in public but that you could enjoy privately. If any of this is happening, I am unaware of it.

don’t do this thing, there will be a problem or danger in

Life isn't an Mp3 where you choose what's being played, it is a radio where you have to enjoy what's being played.

Ils se donnèrent la main en remontant à la surface. La main, c'est bien. Ça n'engage pas trop celui qui la donne et ça apaise beaucoup celui qui la reçoit...

Your photo of the Eiffel Tower on Flickr is identically redundant to the millions already stored on Flickr, yet you keep on snapping them (just as I keep downloading MP3s).

I realized that this was how I had operated my entire life... my feelings and sentiments were represented through files, through things made by others on the internet... links, mp3s, jpegs. Employing the work others to get around having to convey it yourself was a huge crutch of communicating on the internet.

Don’t look at any kind of screen for the first hour you’re awake and the last hour before you go to sleep. ▪ Turn off your phone before you achieve flow. There is nothing more important than the task you have chosen to do during this time. If this seems too extreme, enable the “do not disturb” function so only the people closest to you can contact you in case of emergency. ▪ Designate one day of the week, perhaps a Saturday or Sunday, a day of technological “fasting,” making exceptions only for e-readers (without Wi-Fi) or MP3 players. ▪ Go to a café that doesn’t have Wi-Fi. ▪ Read and respond to e-mail only once or twice per day. Define those times clearly and stick to them. ▪ Try the Pomodoro Technique: Get yourself a kitchen timer (some are made to look like a pomodoro, or tomato) and commit to working on a single task as long as it’s running. The Pomodoro Technique recommends 25 minutes of work and 5 minutes of rest for each cycle, but you can also do 50 minutes of work and 10 minutes of rest. Find the pace that’s best for

¿Le puedes echar un ojo a lo del mp3 tú que controlas? Ya me estaba cansando del tema del control. Parece que en el mundo es mejor ser un inútil, te queda más tiempo libre.

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