Hatred

My burning hatred is on thee, o people that make radio shows and decide to put them up as podcasts too, but who in your twisted inbred evil choose to offer only the newest one or two for download.

In a rain of burning fecal lumps from the brown stormclouded skies my wrath is on thee, o people of that type.

And twice, full two times, my fury in its spittle-flecked and urine-stained horror is on thee who put up an mp3 of the newest, and tease the others, giving them out as crippled whimpering abominations tied to some flashy player on your site. They shall not be taken; they shall not dwell in my mp3 player; they shall not comfort me. You offer one loaf of bread; the rest you have baked ground glass into.

I do understand thee a bit; make no mistake of that. You do not wish to have a mad rush of people sucking out episode after episode; but what is that except saying you want listeners, but not too much of them? If you do not sell your old episodes, why hoard them? Such a hoard will not make you rich, and it will not make you famous or beautiful either. Maybe you think forcing people to return each week or forever forget having a particular episode grows loyalty; but in me it only breeds contempt, and reddening of eyes, and growing of horns, and clenching of fists, and smashing of crockeries, and howlings-at-the-moon, and boilings of blood and for that crimson mist ionizations, and for that hellish red plasma transitions most nameless to black solid clumps of pure charred resigned hatred, all in my corroded and stressed bloodstream, until my veins feel fit to burst.

I do not like that.

It does not make me like you.

Internet is full of podcasts ran by minor players, individuals; some of those podcasts have plenty of listeners, and yet they offer all their episodes for the perusal of the interested listener. They, with personal budgets and considerably lesser resources do not think hosting is too expensive, or offering all they have too harmful for weekly visits; for that they release a new episode weekly and that is enough. Bandwidth is not that expensive; loyalty does not come from giving your listeners less, or making them work to get a part of what you could just as well give them whole. Denying new listeners full familiarity with your show is not good marketing, either; it is not even good sense. It seems either old-timey pre-Internet incomprehension of what it can do and be, or then mere taunting, flaunting your embrace of a shadow of a model that was radio, direct and unarchived, with maybe a rerun of the newest on Saturday, but no more; and frankly both of those awaken in me thoughts from the locker of my mind that contains pneumonia and root canals and other things of similar teeth-gnashing and fever-clouding.

Yes; I am greedy. Yes; you have the right to do with your own what you want. Yes; I am writing this because I am hugely pissed off at NPR (US) and Yle (Finland) for hoarding what cannot profit them when hoarded, and shirking the bandwidth-expense that would greatly add to their reputation and their audience’s goodwill; and furthermore yes, I am writing this because it tees me off to no end that people hide what I wanna.

And phew, that whine made me feel a lot better. Now back to the business of a goat and a knife to effect dark forces to compel This American Life to sell their episodes as mp3s one without iTunes could acquire.

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