Now, before I begin, let me set the record straight. I like Creative Commons, I think it’s a brilliant way for people to share their creations safely. I myself have published things using CC licenses and I’ve remixed things that already used them. I’ve read (and loved) books that use CC licenses. But ultimately, CC (and other similar licenses, like GNU) suck, and this is why.

The first problem with Creative Commons is quality. Overall, price is a good indicator of quality. I know, we can all think of examples where something expensive turns out to be crap, but we can also cite examples that go the other way – on average, price is a good indicator. Kingsmill costs more than Tesco Value bread, but you get better bread as a result. Those cheapo bin liners you bought from the pound shop are only going to lead to banana peels and empty tuna cans all over your kitchen floor. Unfortunately, though, there’s no whuffie that we can use as an alternative – simply put, supply and demand are great indicators of how good something’s going to be, and without them, we don’t know beforehand what we’re going to get.

There’s an argument that because the goods are free to begin with, we lose nothing by giving them a try, but this simply isn’t true. The opportunity cost of trying a new CMS system, for example, is the time that needs to be invested in converting to the new system and then unlearning the habits from the old system and assimilating those of the new. And quality isn’t just about the ability of the product to do the things you want it to – it’s about the producer providing help and support and documentation to allow you to do what you want with it with minimal fuss. Many (I don’t think it’d be controversial to say “most”) projects covered by copyleft licenses are what I’d call “pet projects”, people producing things in their spare time, as a hobby. And for the most part, they can’t be relied on to provide this sort of after-sales (if I can still use the word “sales”) service – they want to do the interesting, creative part, not the boring business parts.

Secondly, only non-scarce resources can be distributed in this way. For the sake of argument, we’ll assume that the cost of transmitting data over the internet is zero – it’s a little more complex than that, (it boils down to only a few pence per unit. If a software company wanted to charge me a few pence to cover their bandwidth costs, I wouldn’t look unfavourably on them) but it’s not an extreme assumption. But the free-goods model doesn’t expand to rivalrous goods whose production removes resources from the economy – these resources need to be accounted for in some way.

Even if nobody actually owned a forest, an economy where everything was donated would allow someone to log the entire thing (with donated labour) and use it to produce, say, textbooks about microbiology (with donated time on a printing press) that only a few people would ever need. A monetary system automatically corrects for this, taking into account what people want to buy – a free system does not. Something needs to be done to ensure that the goods provided are the goods that people want, and a monetary system is the best way to go about this. A free-goods system doesn’t apply to scarce resources.

There’s an argument that non-scarce resources should be provided for free to fuel sales of scarce ones: a frequently-used example is providing a free ebook version of a novel as a way of advertising the print version. As Cory Doctorow frequently puts it, the vast majority of books lose more sales through nobody knowing about them than they ever would through piracy. I’ll come back to this free advertising point later, but for now I want to focus on this idea of using a non-scarce resource to drive a scarce one.

On the surface, it seems like a great idea, and the business model works very well for many people. More and more authors are finding that releasing a free ebook of their work increases sales of the print versions. The webcomics industry has been fueled by this model for years – providing free comics and selling merchandise related to those free comics. The problem is that, while this model works very well for some industries, it’s very bad for others.

The software industry is a good example. Creating software of any kind incurs a massive cost in terms of man-hours – not dissimilar from a book, you might claim. However, unlike a book, there is no non-scarce version of software. All software can be distributed via the internet for zero cost – the only cost is the fixed payment, creating the software, before you’re able to sell even a single unit. Alternatives have been explored, but none work as simply as paying in the first place. Many of these methods have quite perverse side-effects – a company that provided its software for free but charges for support, for example, has an incentive to make people need that support, potentially reducing the quality of the product.

Small software houses in niche markets (like, say, Zuggsoft) suffer through this system, too. Large companies can afford to absorb some or all of the fixed costs involved in writing software, but small companies can’t. Their per-unit profits are low enough that they can’t afford to provide support (which has its own costs) as well as sinking money into new versions of software. They need to be able to charge for what they create, or they wouldn’t exist.

In addition, this makes it very difficult to compare the costs of two different products. One product, for example, might charge you £5/hour of support time, but provide 10 hours free with your purchase. Another might charge £2.50/hour with no free hours. Another might charge £5 for the first hour on any single problem, but only 50p per hour after that. Comparing these three alternatives is very difficult, and depends on exactly how much you’re going to be using their support service for and what exactly you’ll be doing with it – something you can’t really predict in advance. It’d be much simpler just to see that the first product costs £20, the second £15 and the third £30.

In short, trying to provide a scarce resource on the back of non-scarce software sales is fraught with difficulty, and the incentives for trying are murky at best. It’s no wonder that people haven’t bothered changing.

Back, then, to the idea of a free version of a product as advertising. This is a tradition as old as the hills – giving out an inferior version of the product will make people aware of the benefits of using the real thing. It’s why those people handing out single chocolates in supermarkets (and single shots in bars) have a job, and it’s the entire basis of shareware software and software demos. Back to Cory again – the reason that books don’t sell is because they’re unknown, not because people download them instead.

It’s a fair enough point, and it’s hopefully obvious why distributing a free version of the book sells the real thing – people don’t really like reading ebooks, and they’ll want to give a real, tangible gift to their wife at Christmas. Giving out free copies of your book raises awareness of your work beyond that of other authors, and when it comes time to buy a new book, people are going to buy something they know about, not something they’ve never heard of.

The problem comes when you expand this model – imagine that all books were provided for free in pdf format or whatever. Your work no longer has an edge over its competitors – and so it’s lost, once again, a sea of other works. Of course, this trend would have some real benefits for consumers because they’d now be able to read every book for free if they wanted to – but since ebooks are already acknowledged as inferior to the real thing, it’s very debatable as to how great a thing that would be.

I could talk a little more about the non-CC licenses I dislike (I like, for example, how CC is very open about allowing commercial use by giving you the option of leaving out the NonCommercial and ShareAlike clauses, and through relicensing – as opposed to GNU, which seems to be actively in opposition of allowing any commercial use of software whatsoever), but I think I’ve covered this topic in sufficient detail for now.

So the new episode of The Guild is out, kicking off its second season, and all in all it’s pretty damn good. Here’re my first thoughts, cross-posted from their forums.

Admittedly this is only the first five minutes of the season, so it’s tough to draw a robust conclusion, but I do feel the above statement is accurate. In many ways it feels like a totally different show – the increased production values are obvious in everything from the lighting and makeup to the direction, soundtrack and even the opening credits. The performances have also become less low-key and understated, erring more on the over-the-top side (Codex’ fall onto the bed would’ve been a good example if not for hitting her head, which was a nice touch. Better is the largely visual scene towards the end with her and Zabbu, which used much more exaggerated visuals and frankly minimal dialogue). Other people have noted that the dialogue’s also shifting away, at least a little, from authentic gamer terms – it doesn’t shy from “raid dps”, but does avoid “dkp” for some reason. It’s a strange mix.

But all these things just mean that it’s different, not worse. The show is still roaringly funny – I was laughing pretty much from the moment of Codex’ double-take in response to the T1 until the end of the episode. In and of itself, I really can’t fault it – it did what it set out to do, which was be a really entertaining way to spend a few minutes. I just think you need to be careful if you’re expecting more in the same vein as Season One, because it’s certainly moved forward in the intervening space. If it gets better as quickly as I hope it will, the next few episodes will be awesome.

Oh, and one other thing: XBL making me install Silverlight to download a video onto my PC is a joke. Bollocks to that, I’d rather just stream it.

A few thoughts about MUDs and MMORPGs based on points raised in this thread on the Zuggsoft forums.

I hate time-based advancement. I’ll agree with Yahtzee (note:sweary) here – “seriously, why I am being rewarded for not playing the game?”. Give me levels any day. The only thing you need to do to turn a tedious grind into fun is to take some people along. There’s a reason MMORPGs are social games, and that’s it: things are more fun with more people. It’s simple to make a grind fun: bring someone along who you can trash-talk, chat to, someone you can help through the challenges and someone who can help you through them. The funnest part of WoW is the instances, for exactly that reason.

Now, the reason my MUD palette is quite tightly-focused: I can’t stand combat in most MUDs (or MMORPGs for that matter). It’s mentioned in the above-linked review, actually, that most MMORPG combat is about clicking on an enemy to start kicking him in the shins, and then waiting while he kicks you back until one of you dies. The KILL command is not my friend: it’s the reason why I play Mages and Rogues (and, to a lesser extent, Druids) rather that Warriors and Paladins. I think this combat snobbery (because that’s what it is – clearly there’s plenty of fun to be had in a MUD that uses KILL, or so many people wouldn’t play them. I don’t know what my shortcoming is, but I just don’t get it.) stems from the first MUD I played: Achaea. And then the second MUD I played: Imperian. And then the third MUD I played: Lusternia. See a pattern here?

Combat in IRE muds has no kill command. I mean, sure, PvE combat is generally repeating POKE SPIDER IN FACE and DRINK HEALTH POTION until one of you dies, but at least pressing a macro every couple of seconds makes me feel involved. I remember trying out WoTMUD one time, largely because I’m a gigantic Robert Jordan fan, and actually typing KILL SPIDER or whatever, and going to get a glass of apple juice and some hobnobs while my character happily bashed the scoundrel in the face. A game like that isn’t fun after playing something where you’re actually involved in the fighting.

And the PvP. Oh lord, the PvP. I love it to bits. My hands actually shake sometimes during a particularly epic fight, my pulse races when another guy comes into the room and tries to team up with the one I was already fighting. I’m gasping as I try to flee to safer ground, breathing a huge sigh of relief when I get there. This isn’t an exaggeration – it sounds it, I know, but it isn’t. The combat really is that good, and really does evoke that kind of reaction.

So which would you rather do: fight a battle so intense you actually have to go and have a lie down afterwards, or type KILL SPIDER and go and get a cuppa? That’s why I can’t play most MUDs: I’m spoilt.

Now, having said all this, I would love for someone to extol the merits of combat in a MUD like Aardwolf. I’ve tried, I really have, to like Aardwolf. So many people enjoy it that I felt it was unfair not to give it a chance. I tried playing a spellcaster, in the hopes that the fighting would be a bit more involved and it was, a bit, but something just didn’t work for me.

Perhaps it was because IRE MUDs – what I was brought up on – force you into some kind of social interaction. The whole game is designed to pretty much make you socialise, by forcing you to join a group to get any skills, and then strongly encouraging you to join one of the city-states that can never get along. Aardwolf, by contrast, seemed… empty. In an IRE MUD – any IRE MUD – it’d be quite common for a higher-levelled player to take a bunch of lower-levelled players killing stuff they wouldn’t be able to kill on their own. This was fun times, because there was a real sense of danger – if you weren’t careful, these guys could really mess you up. A few hits and you’d be dead.

Aardwolf, by contrast, doesn’t link you up immediately with a bunch of other players who might want to join up with you to get your twenty bear faces for your quest. You’re left to do the asking yourself, which feels, I know know… rude. It seems hard to break into the communities that have formed in Aardwolf, as well – in IRE games, everyone’s always looking for new members, and all you need to do is do HELP <orgname> to be given a list of people who are able to induct you and will be able to tell you how to go about it.

So yes, the two things I want from a MUD: Plenty of social interaction, easy to get into and easy to enjoy; and combat that really makes your blood pump. For that reason, I play Imperian and, to a lesser extent these days, Lusternia. Any recommendations are welcome, especially ones from players MUDs with a kill command – like Aard – who can explain what it is about combat that works well for them.

So I’m watching Alias at the moment. It’s taken me a good few weeks to get to the end of Season 2, but I’ve made it at last. I know it was out years ago, but I’ve just seen it, so it’s new to me.

Before I sit down to watch Alias, I have to put myself in the right mindset. My disbelief has to be not only suspended, but chained up and hung from a steel cable to ensure no chance of escape. The show’s like a patchwork quilt, this huge mass of incongruous and seemingly unrelated bits that they’re trying to jam together into something workable. You have your lipstick transmitters and your bareknuckle kickboxing; your college exams and your CIA wetwork missions; your touching family moments and your brutal slayings. It’s almost like they tried to appeal to everyone by sticking in one scene from every show ever made, with the characters’ names changed so there’s some kind of continuity.

Almost, but not quite. The show’s saving grace is that it seems somehow aware of this. It knows full well that it’s doing something just for dramatic effect, or just to show the ridiculous amount of combat training that Jennifer Garner’s done. It knows that the only reason she has short blue hair in this scene (and only this scene) is because it makes her look fucking hot in the matching blue plastic minidress she’s wearing. Somehow, with a wink and a nudge, it manages to pull it off, somehow turning the cheesiness into entertainment rather than annoyance.

It reminds me of, if nothing else, Moonraker-era Bond. You know, with the cars that turn into submarines and the jetpacks and the giant space stations. It’s the same sort of thing – cheesy scifi-cum-espionage (I think I’m supposed to call it spy-fi) that just about manages to get away with it.

And even though it does occasionally end up with too much sci- and not enough spy- to go with its -fi, it does have some really great moments. The relationship between Syndney and her parents is great, as is her friendship with Will and Francie (before that all goes funny in S2 anyway). Marshal is also a brilliant character, if a little too stereotypical – not that that’s out of place in this show. I can’t stand Vaughn, but that’s just because he’s a French smeghead and there’s not a lot he can do about that, so I’ll let him off.

But. And it’s a big but, so I’m going to take a run-up.

But. What the fuck, Abrams!? Why do you insist on doing this crazy shit!? End of series 2, everything’s fine – we’ve had the Big Battle with “Francie” that we’ve seen coming for the last ten episodes, and while it wasn’t as epic as I’d've liked (too much throwing each other through glass, too little actual fighting) it was still good. But now it’s two years in the future for no reason? Why do you do these things!?

Not that this utter ridiculousness is going to keep me from watching the show – it’s still got plenty of value yet. You can tell when it’s gone too far when it’s not readily obvious what’s keeping you watching the show, and I’m not there yet. But this is seriously pushing it, man. This is House territory. Here be dragons.

Besides being a quite entertaining way to spend 45 minutes, Alias is also a useful vehicle for thinking about Lost. As we all know, Abrams’ latest show is a hundred kinds of fucked up. Polar bears, visions, giant black men with Bible sticks… it’s got it all. “We’ve gotta go back!” But you can really see the evolution of this kind of thing in Alias. You’ve got the Rimbaldi stuff for the utterly incongruous plot feature that nobody’s quite sure about – what the hell has a 16th century soothsayer-cum-inventor, a la Da Vinci, got to do with a show about today’s CIA? – of which Lost has far too many to list. You’ve got the troubled familial relationships that both shows explore in depth. You’ve got the shameless retconning.

I was going to say that Lost is Abrams now thinking “Okay, so this sort of thing worked pretty well in Alias, but how far can we push this before people go insane?” – but really, this whole two-year gap thing is just as crazy as any shit Lost ever pulled, if not moreso. I think I’ll have more to say once I’ve finished season 3 of Alias, but for now – good god.

As a follow-on from the previous post: I always remember this quote of Stephen Fry’s on the sacking of Angus:

“Greasy, miserable, British and pathetic.”

It sums up my feelings about this sort of thing perfectly. Leave them alone, already.

This is, of course, the news that Max Mosley is a fiend and a cad.

Dylan Moran put it best (at about 5:30) when he said “Ohh, the shame of it! How could he!? How absolutely dreadful! I’d never do that! I’ve never had the chance, but I would never ever do that!”

I’ll come back to the Nazi connotations in a moment, but first let’s just assume that he really was doing something absolutely dreadful. So what?

Whatever took place in this hotel room happened between a group of consenting adults. Who cares what they got up to? I really don’t think that public interest is a decent defence here, because when are anyone’s consensual sexual habits in the public interest? A man might enjoy being stood on, being shat on, weeing in people’s faces – it’s nobody’s business but his own and the person he’s doing it to. If the News of the World win this case, it’s going to be a sad, sad day for British privacy law.

Secondly, Nazism. I think there’s a lot of mileage in Nazism as a fetish. The Nazis stood for industry, martial power, overwhelming force, skilled engineering and expert piloting. A finer set of sexual metaphors would be hard to find. Rule 34 dictates that there’s a fetish for everything else, so why not Nazism? I can think of worse things to fetishise – it’s not like the Nazis are a hot issue some sixty years after the end of the war. Why is having a fetish for being a prisoner (from which it’s not much of a stretch to prisoner of war, and who’s the first military that’d spring to the mind of someone of his generation?) so abhorrent that not only is it in the public interest (which I’ll touch on in a bit) but that organisations the world over felt the need to force him to resign?

Which is another thing that annoys my tits off. Something bad happens, some high-powered person has to resign. How the arseface does that work? The killing of Jean Charles De Menezes is a good example – I recall how there was tabloid speculation that Ian Blair, of all people, was going to resign! Ridiculous given that he had absolutely nothing to do with the shooting, regardless of the outcome. Or when Angus Deayton was sacked after an incident similar to Mosley’s. The only thing he was presenting at the time was Have I Got News For You. I could understand if he was a kids’ TV presenter, because that’s a bad message for children – but HIGNfY is a very adult show, hosted by adults and watched by adults. Sacking him for something he did in the privacy of a hotel room is just idiotic. It’s just like Dylan says; people are so quick to jump on the abuse train to get as far away from the wrongdoer as they can.

And finally, even if we accept that Mosley did have a Nazi-fetishist romp and even if we also accept that that’s a very bad thing and that he should lose his job over it: where exactly do you draw the line? There’s nothing actually illegal about having sex with Nazi intonations, so that can’t be it. So which fetishes are allowed and which aren’t? Is there a list you’re given when you become a public figure? Scat is allowed, but only if you’re the one doing the shitting? Bondage is allowed, but only when the ropes are tied to your hands and the implements are improvised, rather than purpose-bought? Clearly, this way lies madness.

In fact, I’d go so far as to say that it says more bad things about the timbre of the critics’ sex lives than it ever could about Max Mosley.

I’ve just written six hundred words, when really what I should be saying is this:

Shut the fuck up about people in the public eye doing things they shouldn’t. They can do what they like as long as it’s private, consensual and legal.

Yes, I’ve given in and started a blog. Shameful, I know.

The idea is that I need to start writing again and since I’m always thinking “Wow, that’d be ace to write about!”, a blog is a good medium. I can fire something out whenever the mood strikes me, which could be multiple times a day or once a year – who knows?

My intention is to perhaps put some CMUD tippery on here as well in the future, but it’s mostly going to be things in the news, things that’ve happened at work (with the names removed), things I’ve seen or done, things that’re happening in the games I’m playing. Hopefully nothing too shocking.

We’ll see how it goes.