Film piracy

The film is a captivating, immersive medium that narrates a story with a synchronized visual and audio track. In its similarity to television in that it can be consumed passively rather than requiring an active effort in imagination, movies have reached far more Americans than books. In the medium’s success, it has become a lucrative business over the past one hundred years.

Today, the majority of Americans know of only one type of movie: the movie that is approved by the Motion Picture Association of America, an industry group that comprises of six media conglomerates with near-exclusive access to what is commonly known as the movie theater.

The American has little access to the independent or international film; only has streaming eased the resistance of these films’ entry into the market, and even then their exposure to Americans is often filtered through contracts managed by the Big Six.

The end result is the offering of a relatively small catalog of extremely popular mainstream movies, whose distribution is tightly controlled from production to presentation. A consumer can watch an American movie only through a handful of means:

  • If still in theaters, an MPAA-approved facility.
  • Blu-ray disc, with an up-to-date Blu-ray player and a high-definition TV with HDCP.
  • DVD, with a player of the correct region, assuming that the movie was distributed by DVD.
  • A constellation of video-on-demand services, assuming the service has an up-to-date contract with the distributor:
    • Netflix
    • Amazon Prime Video
    • iTunes

Ironically, the battle was lost decades ago in the music industry, with purchased music distributed with no DRM.

The problem is that due to the increasing volume of media and the tightening demands by licensors to provide adequate protection for media, the film medium as a whole is becoming increasingly inaccessible. One can no longer go to the video store, find anything to one’s content, and pop it into the player: one must sift through a variety of providers to see who actually distributes the movie, at a variety of price points.

And what happens if the content is not accessible? What if the movie or the TV show is not accessible in one’s country due to contractual limitations? What if technological advances prevent one from enjoying purchased content? What if the content is no longer distributed by anyone?

These are reasons piracy is rationalized – not because it is in people’s willful intention to commit robbery, but because piracy has unfortunately made it far more convenient to acquire content than through a legitimate transaction. Content is easily searchable, and its results are displayed on a minimalistic table that lists every version of the content ever released. A few clicks later, and the content is downloaded as a file to one’s hard drive, and the download manager intelligently seeds the file back to its peers in a gesture of cooperation. The content (which, surprising to some, conforms to high quality standards) has already been decrypted, stripped of DRM, and is ready to be played back on virtually any device.

There is no question why the MPAA seeks to drill anti-piracy campaigns into the minds of Americans: because despite all of its efforts, and despite the illegality and unethical nature of piracy, the members of the MPAA have been unable to compete with the convenience of peer-to-peer downloading and DRM-free video.

For instance, suppose I wish to watch Cowboy Bebop: The Movie. While the movie’s theatrical reception was subpar, it is still original Cowboy Bebop content that is worth watching – like an extended episode. My ideal solution is to look it up on an ad-free, subscription-based streaming service such as Netflix, hit play, and then hit the “cast” button to any television in my house or even a monitor on my computer.

However, Cowboy Bebop: The Movie is not available. At all. Its only availability is through an obscure DVD release with varying prices, indicating that some DVDs are region-locked to Japan, while others can be played in the US.

Ultimately, the easiest way to play this is by searching it in a torrent database, downloading it, and then serving the file to the television.

It is the sad truth that despite having played movies from discs and boxes in my personal possession, playing high-quality content from servers in my personal possession is frowned upon as piracy. (Ironically, even Apple designed this correctly: movies can be streamed either from other computers that have the downloaded content, or Apple’s own servers.)

Ultimately, piracy is a consequence of attempting to navigate a broken system of film distribution, and those astute enough to recognize this tend to pull away from mainstream media to enjoy more traditional media, such as books, which convey the same messages and experiences in more elegant terms.

A troubled relationship with GitLab

When I discovered GitLab in February, a rebellious passion flared up – a desire to break away from the omnipresent, walled-garden development ecosystem that is GitHub.

After GitHub had supposedly banned one of my developers for Attorney Online, that disdain for GitHub flooded over (although it was only later that I considered that perhaps he had involved himself in something he did not tell me about). I switched to GitLab in two days and was content by its fully-featured nature: it could show icons for repositories, group repositories into projects, mirror in both directions, and it even came with a fully-featured CI! Satisfied that I could escape the grasp of GitHub, I moved the main Attorney Online repos to GitLab to make a pipeline and allow my banned developer to contribute.

But six months on, the cracks of GitLab were beginning to show: odd bugs, thousands of issues on the GitLab main repo, slow page load times, and a seemingly endless amount of switches and dropdowns on every panel. It was like Jira all over again – and things were not improving.

In those same six months, GitHub was making leaps and bounds to compete with GitLab’s bells and whistles. Adding features such as security bulletins, issue transferring, jump-to-definition, and sponsorships, GitHub was also trying to reel its open-source users back into the platform – and they also seemed to cut back on their omnipotent moderation, instead granting repositories the tools to moderate themselves.

The distinction was thus made clear to me: GitLab for enterprise, GitHub for community. Enterprises don’t care about simplicity, but hobby developers like myself do. Both also succeeded in adding features that were orthogonal to each other – only GitHub supports jump-to-definition, but only GitLab supports arbitrary mirroring rules.

After reverting my move to GitLab, I saw that GitLab was flexible enough to allow me to reap the benefits of both ecosystems – GitHub for project management, and GitLab for its advanced CI pipeline and artifact hosting.

In the end, it is inevitable for today’s developer world to spin around an indispensable GitHub: it is the product that tamed a complicated version control system and popularized it in a simple-to-use program for managing open-source projects.

Most stripped-down version of Chromium

I am curious how far Chromium can be stripped down for embedded applications. The natural thing to do, of course, is to not use HTML for embedded applications. But I wonder: can one strip down Chromium to its bare minimum? No video or audio, no WebGL, no MIDI, no CSS 3D animations, no WebSockets, no profiling, no extensions, no developer console – basically nothing except the layout engine, a JS engine, and a basic renderer. The target is to minimize binary size and memory footprint while still drawing from an actively maintained code base, as HTML 4 engines are not really maintained anymore, and many modern websites do not render properly on HTML 4 engines.

Just an idle thought. No action is needed.

Moral dilemma

I know when I’ve wasted my time away when my joints feel stiff, my eyes inflamed, and my mind unstimulated. Instead, I’m playing TF2 to waste the time away, as I had originally planned to watch a movie, but the plans had fallen through.

It’s difficult to stay motivated when most of my friends are in Austin, doing whatever. For me, the only real excitement will be flying to the East Coast again for the yearly plane competition, but undoubtedly there will be an extremely stressful problem that will counterbalance the excitement.

(more…)

Using OpenPGP for video games

Cryptography seems to be all the rage these days: it is a method to strongly prove the occurrence of an event, and no one can question the universal truth of mathematics. The blockchain hype merely serves as witness to this trend toward cryptographic verification.

I see cryptography as a topic long avoided by mainstream software developers due to its core functionality being backed by pure math, a field which software developers are either not fond of or not competent in (or both). It is often perceived as a “black box” which ought not to be touched or recreated, lest one’s application be infested with thousands of security issues. However, cryptography is not purely math, and today, well-tested abstractions exist to make common cryptographic applications understandable and implementable.

Online video games tend to be backed by a central or master server, which places two main liabilities on the part of the maintainer of the game:

  • the responsibility of the maintainer to secure personal information within the server (such as email addresses and passwords) and to report security breaches; and
  • the regular maintenance of the server, which is essential to maintaining the ability for players to use the game.

However, as time progresses, the maintainer of a game is more likely to renege on these responsibilities for economic reasons, either causing the player’s experience to be significantly degraded or rendering the game entirely unplayable.

However, replacing a master server is not the main focus of this writing; rather, I wish to discuss an important issue in online games: who to trust.

I wish we could trust everyone – however, when a game gets sufficiently large, it becomes statistically likely for a player to decide to cheat or flood a server to attempt to break the game experience – in which case now there is one player we cannot trust.

With the rising popularity of virtual private networks and proxies, anonymity is king. It is nearly impossible to uniquely identify a player without prompting for a particular set of credentials by a master server. Even then, it is easy for a banned player to create new credentials and begin cheating or spamming again – the natural response is to increase the amount of personal information prompted by the central server, but this likewise increases the liability held by the owner.

One approach to mitigate this problem is by employing a cryptosystem specifically designed to solve the problem of trust – in our case, who should be allowed into a server, and who should not. OpenPGP is one such well-established system that uses a decentralized web of trust to systematically determine who can be trusted, without the liability of a centralized server or unintentionally restricting legitimate users from playing (such as banning an excessively large IP range, or requiring users to provide personal information that violates some users’ privacy).

The reason OpenPGP lacks adoption is primarily because of its unintuitive nature and its dependence on everyone to use the system in order for its individual users to benefit from it (a collective action problem). However, the limited domain in which OpenPGP would operate allows it to be enforced behind the veil of abstraction. Users will never need to know what “keys” or “signing” are – they only know that they have an identity that they can optionally secure with a password. They can also “like” other users. If their identity becomes compromised, they can choose to “destroy” it forever. Behind the scenes, keys have a six-month expiration date that is automatically renewed simply by playing the game.

On the server side, the server operates an extended whitelist based off a basic whitelist that lists primary identities that are fully trusted. Identities that are (indirectly) trusted by those primary identities may also be allowed to join the server. After the authentication succeeds, the server can reliably recognize the identity of a player, useful if the player has a specific rank or level on that server.

If all servers are whitelisted, then how can new players join? An optional centralized server can automatically grant new players trust temporarily, which allows them to join “newbie” servers and gain trust until they find themselves allowed into other servers. While this disincentivizes curiosity, this incentivizes playing in the same server as others, as well as social integration into the community. Alternatively, new players can also request trust through a side channel, such as a community chat server or forum outside of the game.

If a player has lost the trust of the community by breaking a major rule or through social engineering, other players can revoke trust just as easily as they imparted it: the OpenPGP system allows for signature revocation.

In short, an ideal implementation of public key-based infrastructure in video games would be seamless to users, eliminate the costly upkeep of a strong centralized server, and encourage regular social activity.

Noise

I woke up reading the wrong part of the Internet. Not wrong as in factually wrong – wrong as in something that does not help to stabilize my mind or bring me to a higher level of understanding of the world and that which is beyond our grasp.

The polar divide in ideology which I witness today is, from what I can see, a mostly American phenomenon spurred by intense political competition. While other countries have seen localized and sometimes violent conflict between two sides (often racially driven), never before has a war of information been seen at this scale and ferocity.

As someone who is acutely aware of all of this, it causes me great anxiety to think that every side and opinion has its fair share of criticism – as if everything in the world was wrong. Everything can be criticized, discredited, falsified, and undercut. And yet that is not a very helpful perspective, either – it just means that under the eyes of someone else, what we do is potentially “wrong.”

It’s difficult to step back and reevaluate why we believe what we believe, and why others believe what they believe, without necessarily demonizing or making a mortal enemy out of an “opposing camp.” And yet, it’s not possible to agree with everything – yet it is a necessity to respect those whom with we disagree.

This is the paradox of individualism and unity. The economic theory of comparative advantage requires us to work together to compose a society that runs for the benefit of all of its members; yet, individualism implores each of us to scrutinize the world under our own lenses, and to form our own opinions that may oppose the opinions of others.

Despite all of these concerns clouding my mind, somehow I can feel happy and accomplished. Somehow, I take pride in my accomplishments and rejoice in the successes of others. Somehow, I can just be myself and not worry.

Using JS for Qt logic

Sorry, but I’m going to have to take sides on this one: Electron sucks. At their core, they convert a program into an embedded web browser with somewhat looser restrictions on interfacing with the host system, only to make it possible for web developers to develop for the desktop without learning a new language. The benefits of Electron are heavily biased toward developers and not the end-user, which is really the target of the entire user experience.

The problem is that HTML5 makes for an abstract machine that is far too abstract, and the more layers of abstraction that sit between the software and the hardware, the more overhead there will exist from translation and just-in-time compilation. The result is a web browser that uses 120 MB of shared memory and 200 MB of resident memory per tab.

For a web browser, though, abstraction is good. It makes development easy without sacrificing user experience for what is essentially a meta-program. But for any other desktop application with a specific defined functionality, this abstraction is excessive.

This is generally why I like Qt: because it is one of the only libraries left that continues to support native desktop and embedded application development without sacrificing performance. The one problem with it, however, is that performance requires the use of C++, and most people do not know how to work C++. Moreover, it requires double the work if the program is also being targeted for the web.

There does exist QML, which removes most of the C++ and exposes a nice declarative syntax that combines both layout and logic into a single file. However, it has two significant problems: first, it adds even more cruft to the output program, and custom functionality still requires interfacing with C++ code, which can get a little difficult.

Qt’s main Achilles’ heel for a long time has been targeting the web. There are various experimental solutions available, but none of them are stable or fast enough to do the job yet.

I’ve been coming up with an idea. Qt exposes its V4 JavaScript engine (a JIT engine) for use in traditional C++ desktop programs. What I could do is the following:

  • Write JS code that both the browser and desktop clients share in common, and then make calls to some abstract interface.
  • Implement the interface uniquely for each respective platform.

For instance, the wiring for most UI code can be written in C++, which then exposes properties and calls events in JS-land. Heck, Qt already does most of that work for us with meta-objects.

How do I maintain the strong contract of an interface? You need a little strong typing, don’t you? Of course, of course – we can always slap in TypeScript, which, naturally, compiles to standards-compliant JavaScript.

The one problem is supporting promises in the JS code that gets run, which mostly relies on the capabilities of the V4 engine. I think they support promises, but it does not seem well documented. Based on this post about invoking async C++ functions asynchronously, I think that I need to write callback-based functions on the C++ side and then promisify the functions when connecting between the JS interface and the C++ side. That shouldn’t be too hard.

Note that important new features for QtJsEngine, such as ES6, were only added in Qt 5.12. This might complicate distribution for Linux (since Qt continues to lag behind in Debian and Ubuntu), but we’ll get there when we get there – it is like thinking about tripping on a rock at the summit of a mountain when we are still at home base.

Indexing the past and present

With the shutdown of GeoCities Japan, we are reaching an important point in the history of the Internet where important historical information is vanishing while being replaced with new information that is hidden away as small snippets of information in social media systems.

It is becoming increasingly apparent that a vast trove of information is simply missing from Google Search. Aggressively pushing for well-ranked sites, user-made sites with obscure but useful information are not as indexed, and their lack of maintenance leads to their loss forever.

For instance, I was only able to find MIDI versions of Pokemon Ruby and Sapphire music from a site hosted by Comcast. After the shutdown of Comcast personal sites, the information was lost to indexing forever and hidden away in the Internet Archive.

What I propose is the indexing and ranking of content in the Internet Archive and social media networks to make a powerful search engine capable of searching, past, present, and realtime data.

A large fault of the Google Search product over the years has been its dumbing down of information during the aggregation process of the Knowledge Engine that inhibits the usefulness of complex queries. If a query is too complex (i.e. contains keywords that are too far apart from each other), Google Search will attempt to ignore some keywords to fit the data that it has indexed, which only fits into particular categories or keywords. If the whole complex query is forced, though, Google Search will be unable to come up with results because it does not index or rank webpages in a way that is optimized for complex queries – not because the information does not exist.

The corpus of information is also diversifying: there is more information in e-books, chat logs, and Facebook conversations than can be found simply by crawling the hypertext. But the Google search engine has not matched this diversification, opting simply to develop the Knowledge Graph to become a primary and secondary source of information.

I think this would be a great direction a search engine such as DuckDuckGo could take to compete more directly with Google Search in a dimension other than privacy. After all, Google Search is no longer Google’s main product.