On the way in from the airport, a guy in an SUV ahead of us stuck a red plastic horn out of his window, put the other end to his mouth and gave three jubilant blasts that sounded like a tuba with tolerable heartburn.

And my reaction was simply: well, yes, of course.

As a necessary aside, why isn't there a NYC driving sim? Or is there? And I'm not talking Crazy Taxi. But nothing would put together skills like evasion, racing, and strategy like that game would.

Okay, here's John Dvorak's article smacking Creative Commons. Go read it. No, it's okay, I'll wait here.

Done? Okay. Here are the things that, as I read it, that Dvorak puts forward:

1. Creative Commons is confusing.

If you are unfamiliar with this thing, be sure to go to the Web site and see if you can figure it out.

Actually, I did. And I didn't have a problem with it. Sorry it blew your mind.

2. Creative Commons adds nothing to existing copyright protections.

I have begged critics of the system, such as The Register's Andrew Orlowski, to explain to me how Creative Commons works or what it's supposed to do that current copyright law doesn't do. He says, "It does nothing."

Okay, fine: you come back and explain to me how I can do the same thing with my existing copyright. Because I'm not in the habit of doing things just for the sake of doing them. Or to try and be hip. If you're telling me that it's sufficient to write "Copyright 2005 by John Robinson. Some rights reserved: check with me for a list," then I'll do it.

3. Creative Commons gives creators the right to throw open their work to re-use for commerical purposes or to hold that back and only allow non-commercial purposes. And it bugs him.

Why not commercial purposes? What difference does it make, if everyone is free and easy about this? In other words, a noncommercial site could distribute a million copies of something and that's okay, but a small commercial site cannot deliver two copies if it's for commercial purposes. What is this telling me?

It's telling you that if I put out a short story under the Creative Commons banner and you turn it into a Tony-award winning play, I'd like a cut please.

Before Creative Commons I could always ask to reuse or mirror something.

You still can, John. You just never asked me. I'm so hurt. We never talk anymore. But seriously, you still can ask. Anybody can ask. Hell, your small commercial site can ask. I'll probably say yes. I don't see why Creative Commons suddenly turns me into an asshole who won't answer e-mails.

4. People don't know how Public Domain works.

Public domain is public domain. It's not something granted by Creative Commons. Yet you see this over and over as if it were!

I don't see where this is a problem with Creative Commons. Sure, you can go through the process of declaring something PD on their website, but who cares? Most people don't even know how to declare something PD–they think that copyright law is going to make them own their creations until the copyright period is over. It never even occurs to them that they can just throw caution to the wind and do it right here, right now. In fact, if Max Barry doesn't do the same with Jennifer Government in 2013 (ten years after it was published, not sure when it was actually copyrighted) just like he says all copyrights should do automatically, then I'll be pissed. So CC helps them declare it. Who cares.

5. He doesn't like the name.

There was always something about Creative Commons and its name that bugged me, too. The name sounds like a variation of the once-powerful Common Cause political-action committee.

And my first name can also be considered synonymous with a toilet and a prostitute's client. Life sucks all around.

6. Creative Commons is too complex.

Apparently simplicity was more than some people could handle, so they invented Creative Commons to add some artificial paperwork and complexity to the mechanism.

Again, I don't know what you found so daunting about the process and the website. You fill out a form, they give you back some stuff, you post the stuff. I guess you should stick with the the very easy and simple U.S. copyright laws that you mention.

7. Creative Commons weakens your copyright.

And it seems to actually weaken the copyrights you have coming to you without Creative Commons.

This I don't understand at all. How does it weaken my rights to give away copies of my book for free on my website, but under a license that protects me from getting ripped off? And by ripped off I don't mean that people can read it for free–horror of horrors–I'm talking about somebody taking my idea and running with it in a direction that makes a bunch of money that I don't ever see. Or somebody printing copies of my book and selling them without my permission. And this is my idea and something I'm doing of my own free will!

Hey, wait, you're one of those people who think helmet laws and seat belt laws make sense, aren't you?

Originally found via Slashdot. So blame them.

On page 146 of Ricky Jay's book, Extraordinary Exhibitions, in which he takes you through his impressive collection of broadsides and advertisements dating back to the 17th Century C.E., he has a pair of broadsides for an interesting "pair of pairs." They're in regards to appearances by the conjoined twins Chang and Eng and also Millie-Christine. The former I had heard of before, the latter no idea about.

But basically, the four of them appeared on a bill together in the autumn of 1866, billed as "The Combination Troupe." As Jay puts forward, "How did these pairs of twins, already coping with profound challenges to the boundaries of identity–raised as, and exhibited as, paired but unique–respond to each other? How I would love to have been privy to their conversation."

He points out that the two ladies enjoyed each other's company, were unmarried and had no children, and were former slaves who won their freedom. The two men, however, couldn't stand each other, had spawned twenty-two kids, and were slaveholders.

To me, this meeting cries out for at least a one-act play. What a fascinating place to play around with individuality and identity.

Of course, I don't know what the hell I would do with such a concept, but there it is for anybody who wants it. Just send me a copy when you're done.

And here we go. Now that people have their own soapboxes they're going to get on them and bitch. Here's Steve Rubel pointing to two perfect examples. Because Google may not level the playing field, but it certainly puts bloggers in the same zip code as the playing field. Or in the case of Jeff Jarvis, who has sufficient Googlocity to get excellent placement for his Dell Hell miniseries–he owns the playing field.

I've said it before, but never in here: I firmly believe that you could start a business today and kick everyone's ass if you simply excelled at customer service. People would be willing to pay extra to avoid all the problems that come from cutting costs, to avoid people who are simply automatons with pulses, and to simply get what they want when they want it the first fricking time. Doesn't matter if it's an airline or a retail store.

And it's so goddamn easy to make people happy. Here's some examples of how to do it, since everybody's talking about how not to.

Ecover. They do enviro-friendly detergents. And while I've certainly outgrown my enviro-friendly phase, we like their clothes detergent. We tried their powder but found that it left white bits on the clothes. And considering I wear all black…you can see the problem. Or you could. Anyway, we wrote them a letter, saying we liked their stuff but couldn't use them because we had to wash everything twice. So thanks but no thanks.

They wrote back and said, yes, they were having problems with that product (they may not be anymore, this was a couple of years back, mind you) and were trying to work out the bugs. In the meantime, here, have a bigass bottle of our liquid detergent instead. Free. Oh and here's some fabric softener too. Free. Thanks for using our stuff.

And you know what? We're still using both products today: detergent and fabric softener.

No, dammit, I mean we use it up and buy more. Not that they sent us vats of the stuff with that letter.

But you see what I mean? They took some criticism, acknowledged the problem, used the aikido of customer service and turned it around. And now we love them for it.

Another: T-Mobile. Are they perfect? No. They don't have as strong a signal everywhere I go as I'd like, but it's workable. And they have the Danger Sidekick, which I dig the hell out of. But the real reason I've stuck with them is this:

One time, when I called their customer service to ask a question, the guy said hang on a second, let me check your account to see if everything's cool. Oh, wait a minute: I notice that we're charging you $6.95 for service X, but the package you've got already includes service X free of charge. That's weird. Anyway, hang on a sec…type type type…okay. I've just credited your account back to the first of the year (this was August) for the $6.95 monthly charge. What else can I do for you?

Nice, huh?

Another time, they called me out of the blue. Mr. Robinson, we were just taking a look at your account and your plan and…well, we've got a better plan. I said, fine, tell me about this new plan. They did, and it was all I had on my current plan plus a crapload more of minutes, a bag of chips, and a pretzel with honey mustard dipping sauce and for $5 less a month. So hell yes, sign me up. Thanks.

Is it any wonder I'm still with T-Mobile? How many other companies have taken the initiative and called you to save you money? And I'm not talking about shitty phone spam we're they're trying to get money out of you. I mean legitimately making your relationship with them better.

It's so goddamn easy to impress consumers! Why aren't more companies doing it? Because, as these blogs point out, they think they can get away with not doing it.

And I'm going to be very happy for the day that companies rise up and cull the weak among them. Hell, why do you think I was out here talking to people who looked happy to see me? Oh, and spitting on the DC Comics booth. Twice.

Well, sorry if there wasn't a lot of pics from San Diego, from which I leave today. I was actually pounding the carpet to talk to folks. It was a lot of small and medium press folks, really. Basically I was interested in people who wanted to get their word out. If they actually had a book that looked worthwhile and were nice enough to say something as simple as "Hi" as opposed to stayed locked in whatever book they were reading (no HP6s, though), then I wanted to see what was up. There were some people that were already in conversations and I tried to get back to them, but I didn't always succeed. Because the floor was freaking huge. So anyway. Not a lot of time to take pictures of weirdos for you to gawk at. There's plenty of other sites covering that, regardless.

So while I was here I finished the second pass on Sunday (damn me for my lineation) and also finished compiling Something Else: Season 1. For Something, I was able to fit what I had always thought of as the first season into the format: the first twenty-four episodes, the last of which is the one about oneirophilia, part one of the first two-parter. So that was good.

Should be going to press soon on both. Stay tuned.

Ken tried to sing "Old Man River," and then commented that it doesn't work unless sung by a bass. So I gave it a try.

He said, no, that I'm a turkey bass. So it still doesn't work. I said that I was a second bass, so I can hit the notes.

He said, no, turkey bass = white guy.

As promised, I am posting this revelation for the world to see. Or at least the three people who read this site.

This is the convention center, seen from my hotel room window. Ken insists it's the Kirby Museum. I think it looks like one of the fortresses used on the Secret War World.

You be the judge.