Tyler Perry Has It Right: Ownership Is Everything

 

<The Reckoner>

<i.>

Let's face it. If we've learned anything from our run-ins with the digital marketplace, it's taught us the price of everything, and the value of nothing. It's one of the biggest, darkest flaws running through the gig economy, which is as corporatized and commodified as...well, the Web in general, these days. 

Here's how the basic business model works, if you're not familiar with it. (I'm making this proposition for argument's sake. With so many people resorting to sites like Mechanical Turk for survival, you'd have to visit another planet to find someone who isn't familiar with gig work, in some way. Then again, there are people who've never used Facebook, signed up for cable TV, or used a cellphone, right?) You sign up, which may or may not involve some sort of audition, demo, or test. 

You may also undergo an interview, though that's only happened to me a couple of times, usually for a writing-related opportunity. (I usually turn them down if they want me to essentially do something complicated from scratch, for free, especially if it might take a few hours of my time.) 

Depending on how your initial screening goes, you'll get in right away, or go on a waiting list, if the site's popular enough. Then you can get right to work, for rock bottom rates that run all over the map. In my experience, $5-40 per item is the range, with the median landing at $10-20.

The pros? As much work as you want. No need to invoice anybody, nor wait for someone to send you a check (as the middleman, the site takes care of it). No need to worry about somebody spacing out on those finer details. Generally speaking, the work won't strain your brain, so once you get into a certain rhythm, it's theoretically possible to raise whatever per hour rate you've set as your benchmark.

The cons? Plenty, baby, plenty. You'll work like a pack mule for next to no money, and those rock bottom rates rarely unless the entity involved needs to clear a lot of excess work off its platform. Actually, your rates usually go south, because if see you doing too well, they'll cut your pay. If it's a writing-based site, you may get multiple, rewrite requests that eat up more of your time that you could spend seeking out better paying work, or credits that might advance your career.

The mechanical, repetitive nature of the work will also grind you down. There's no room for creativity, so your talent won't shine on a 500-word clickbait atrocity like "How To Put Pants On A Dog." Like porn, it's all about the act itself., no more, no less. If you churn out this type of word gruel long enough, you'll eventually start questioning your sanity and well-being. 

You won't feel any emotional involvement in something like, "The Pros And Cons Of Paint Strainers," even if it doesn't get unceremoniously scrubbed, years later, off whatever platform pitched pennies at you to bang it out. You won't ever find yourself saying, Hey, I did that, because it was never yours. 

Conditions change without warning, which leaves you scrambling when the work (or your rock bottom pay) drops off. Sites disappear without abruptly, too, once the promise of that quick clickbait revenue evaporates. All that piecework you did for pennies? It's gone forever, but you signed an NDA (Non-Disclosure Agreement), remember? 

That means you can't retrieve or circulate all that digital sweatshop labor, so forget about raising your profile. You can't contact anybody through the site, because they might do the unthinkable, like pay something close to what your time and talents deserve.

Your name typically doesn't appear on your work, further eroding its value as a calling card. The only difference between a piecework site and an express kidnapping gang is that you've spared the bad guys the work of dragging you to the bank to drain your ATM, because you've essentially signed a piece of paper allowing them to do it as often as they want.

<ii.>

This constant insistence on NDAs, and on hiving off disputes to arbitration (another widely abused corporate practice), represents one of the most absurd aspects of how the Piecework Industrial Complex does business. The future value of a mini-masterpiece like "How To Change A Lightbulb In A Hamburg Hotel Room," is negligible, at best. We can all agree on that, I think. 

But if that's the case, why does greedygigwork.com insist that you sign it over to them, forever and forever, in perpetuity, blah-blah-blah, by any and all means, blah-blah-blah, including those yet to be created, discovered or patented (as the relevant boilerplate demands)? What's the point, if nobody's going to read it, even 15 minutes from now?

I think it's time for a new paradigm. Tyler Perry made the case succinctly when he joined "wealthy celebrities like Jay-Z, Oprah Winfrey and Steven Spielberg in the Hollywood billionaires' club," as PureWow reported in September 2020. He earned a place on the Forbes 400 wealthiest Americans list, no small feat for an African-American who started off as an obscure playwright.

All that changed for Perry with his first film, Diary Of A Mad Black Woman (2005), which grossed $50 million worldwide, and enabled him to take creative control of his projects. His back catalog includes 22 films, two dozen plays, and 1,200 TV show episodes, as PureWow reported. He also owns a 330-acre studio lot in Atlanta, that serves as the hub of his creative empire.

Perry explained his philosophy thusly. "My father was a subcontractor, and he would get paid on Fridays and be so happy that he had made $800, but I would watch the man that owned the house sell it and make $80,000," Perry said, in part. "So I always wanted to be the guy that owned the house. I own the lights. I own the sets. So that's where the difference is. Because I own everything, my returns are higher. Ownership is everything."

<iii.>

Makes sense, right? Let that phrase sink in once more: "Ownership is everything." It allows you to control your destiny, to coin a phrase from pro football, where the same rules apply. Do you want to be the team that get home field advantage by winning all its playoff games? Or would you rather hang on the division-tipping outcome of the wild card game, and watch the two 8-8 teams duke it out? The answer is obvious.

Or maybe not so obvious, judging by how many people still flock to these sites, like Etsy, who reported $451.5 million in total revenue for the third quarter of 2020, right about the time Tyler Perry achieved his billionaire status. Think how far even 10 percent of that money could go, if we put it into our DIY communities, and supported each other's efforts, and developed our own networks, instead of allowing some giant corporate entity to hoover it out of our pockets, forever and ever.

Steve Chou, of mywifequiteherjob.com lays out the case against Etsy, and other sites like it, well in his post (see link below). Granted, he's not a disinterested party, but still, he makes some strong points. Like many auction sites, the sheer number of sellers means you'll probably never earn more than a fair side income, at best. And that's before we get to the overall chunk of income that you'll hand over to these folks. (In Etsy's case, plan on dedicating eight to 23 percent to them, Chou estimates.)

Given all the headaches involved, like the plethora of fees, and ever-changing policies, "you have to ask yourself whether you want to be doing all of this work for a site that you do not even own," Chou writes.

But, honestly, it's not a question of, "Should you use this site, or that one?" That's a distraction from the main issue. How do we ensure creative control over our businesses and livelihoods? How do we reach a point of owning as much of ourselves as possible, so that we aren't constantly at the mercy of mindless, unforgiving megabully, who'll toss their grandma (and all their blood relations) under the nearest bus, if that's what it takes to stay profitable?

How can we establish an alternative infrastructure that's durable and long-lasting, so that others don't have to grovel like their predecessors did, and leave the next generation to reinvent the wheel all over again? How well we answer those questions will determine what really is possible. Because, remember: ownership is everything. --The Reckoner

<The Reckoner>

Links To Go
Etsy Reports Third Quarter 2020 Financial Results:
https://investors.etsy.com/press-releases/press-release-details/2020/Etsy-Inc.-Reports-Third-Quarter-2020-Financial-Results/default.aspx

My Wife Quit Her Job
Why Selling On An Etsy Store Is A Bad Idea
Compared To Running Your Own Shop:
https://mywifequitherjob.com/etsy-stores/

The Digital Sweatshop Strikes Again (The Piecework Army Wants YOU)

<i.>

Last month, one of my longtime writing outlets -- a local entertainment rag that kept me busy for six years, interviewing comedians, DJs, and every type of band that you can name -- closed its doors. The situation arose for the usual boring reason. Many of the businesses on which the publisher depended to keep the enterprise going have also closed their doors. The TV talking heads may continue to claim that we've finally clawed our way out of the Great Recession. Out here in the provinces, that's not happening.

Coincidentally (or not), that same week, I got an email from out of the blue, about writing for some mobile app platform or other. I only had to answer a questionnaire, which, assured the project manager, would "pair your interests with your potential," or something along those lines. I duly filled it out, sent it back, and forgot about the matter for a couple of weeks.

Last week, I still hadn't heard anything, so I emailed to ask: "What's going on?" My contact apologized. He'd been out of town, but a response was in the pipeline. Sure enough, I got it a day later. After much deliberation, the email said, the product and ops team have decided to go with bloggers with proven followings, not freelance writers.

Not to worry, though: the company was working up an "Uber-style" option for people like myself, and would reach out soon enough on that score. I can hardly wait. Incidentally...the company's based in Beijing. Need I say more?

<"I'm Not Joining The Piecework Army"/Take I:
The Reckoner>

<ii.>

I'll just have to keep plugging away, I suppose, and see what else is out there. But the landscape isn't looking too pretty. Lots of ink has been expended on the "content farm" model pursued by the likes of About.com, Demand Studios and others of that stripe.. Though that model came in for a well-earned kicking, what has sprung up to ease the freelancer's lot? So far, what I've seen doesn't look terribly significant.

In full disclosure, I did a fair percentage of this work to fill in the monthly blanks, but never expected anything more from it, and didn't stop look for better-paying assignments -- unlike the legions who cranked up their efforts to full-time levels (minus, of course, the wages and benefits that a "real" full-time job promises). For many, I suspect, the withering of the content mills has slammed the door shut on such delusions with a sickening thud. 

I recently checked the Demand site, where (lo and behold) I still have permissions. These days, however, there's no work, since the corporate entity (Demand Media) has shifted to a different model of trying to boost corporate brands (or something along those lines). The giddy era of cutting and pasting dozens and dozens of 500-word mini-masterpieces for $15, $25 and $50 apiece are long gone, just a distant memory to share around the virtual water cooler....if you still get to hang out there.

I noticed that the forums -- where so many Demand denizens spent countless of precious time jawobning, nattering, and woolgathering -- are long gone, too, unceremoniously wiped away like so much used Kleenex. All that chatter faded away...."not with a bang," as T.S. Eliot would say, "but a whimper." The digital sweatshop had the last laugh, after all.

<"I'm Not Joining The Piecework Army"

Take II/The Reckoner>

<iii.>

I think about my fellow travelers who spent so much time on these forums. What's become of them, and where have they gone? Did they finally get the message, and start to try realizing some of their own dreams for a change - whether it's a blog, a chapbook, or umpteenth draft of that oft-threatened Great American Novel, or zombie-versus-vampire exploitation film script? Or did they go back to brainwashing themselves yet again, with a resigned shrug ("Hey, it's the best I can do"), and search for some new content farm or mill that somehow escaped the Google's Great Search Engine Purge?

If they chose the latter route, they'll keep searching for a long time, I suspect. Many of the blogs and platforms and websites that have popped up since the Purge kicked in are even worse, if anything, than their predecessors -- demanding a lot of the writer's time and effort, yet committing little or nothing in return, while paying rates that make the original content farms seem positively princely, by comparison.

It's time to wake up. While nobody wants to revisit the pre-Internet era of compiling (and then updating) endless mailing lists, or such equally brain-rotting mindlessness. Let's keep one other thing in mind, however. Behind the online world, like everything else in the real world, is an array of corporate interests that never stops trying to shift the tide in tis direction. Virtual reality doesn't automatically equate to virtual utopia. Before we put all our hard-won eggs in that particular basket, it's worth asking, "What else is out there? What else can we do? What other options do we have? What other possibilities can we imagine?"

The day we stop asking those questions is the day we'll hear these words below, clattering in our ears, uttered by Johnny Rotten after the Sex Pistols' final live appearance on January 14, 1978, at Winterland (San Francisco, CA), when he'd decided that his own rock 'n' roll swindle felt like it was running on empty....take heed of the dream. Enough said. --The Reckoner

"A-ha-ha! Ever get the feeling
 you've been cheated? Good night!"

Nickled 'N' Dimed To Death By The Piecework Industrial Complex

Reverie

I'm completely and utterly bored

With the theatre; and starving for my art

It's come to the point where I just can't afford,

To wait any longer for a part.

Somewhere in this land of milk and honey,

There must be a practical solution.

I wonder if there would be any money,

In starting a one-man revolution?
-Ann Winthrop

I found the above-cited piece while looking for something entirely different.  It appears in You Work Tomorrow: An Anthology Of American Labor Poetry: 1929-41 (University of Michigan Press). For further detail, see John Marsh's introduction below. According to my Google Books info, "Reverie" first appeared in Equity magazine's December 1936 issue.

Winthrop (1902-82) appeared in various Broadway productions of the time. Her notable roles included those of Ruby Keefer in the 1933-34 production of Sailor, Beware, plus Ann Herman in Lend Me Your Ears, in 1936. Though "Reverie" focuses on the jobless actor's lot, it has a deeper meaning if you look beyond that issue...especially in the last two lines.  As someone working with the written word, Winthrop's sentiments strike a chord with me. Living from week to week is nerve-wracking enough  -- which doesn't stop those who contract your services from finding new ways to twist the knife. 

One of my longtime editors recently sent an email stating that any further stories spun off from local government meetings are worth only $20 per piece...instead of the $40 I'd been getting for the last few years. The email further stated that if I wanted to earn that extra $40, I'd have to do some additional reporting, and note those instances on future invoices. So that lead story is still worth $40, because that's what this organization pays. However, if you write two extra stories, they're only worth $40 altogether (2 x $20)-- not $40 each, which would mean $80 (2 x $40).

Doesn't seem like a big deal, right? On one hand you'll probably find ways to score that missing $40.  On the other hand, it does make a difference...after all now, you're rolling that rock a little further uphill. Increments add up fast in today's short-change economy.

To rub a little extra salt into that open wound of mine, the editor said he'd already discussed that issue with his boss, behind the scenes -- so, after five years of picking up this outfit's odds and ends, you apparently don't rate a phone call, let alone any real notice. Ka-BOOM! There goes the bomb dropping -- now shut up and start picking up the pieces, right?

Considering how this bunch has treated you recently, however, the pattern isn't a random one, because your work increasingly means picking up the scraps and the dregs -- the stuff that nobody with an IQ above room temperature really wants to do. That's how you wound up interviewing the local music promoter a couple of summers ago about his Jimmy Buffett tribute band...and the three-hour set they expected to play.

On one hand, you felt sorry for the guy, because the (now-defunct) festival was struggling to afford the ever-spiraling costs of band booking: apparently, even faded stars still command fearsome guarantees (as in, the $100,000-plus range -- I kid you not). On the other hand, the whole thing seemed like an ego trip. Surely, 90 minutes of Jimmy Buffett would be more than adequate...and couldn't you find some noteworthy local acts to fill the remaining time?

But you weren't able to interview the two or three "name" acts that were coming...since the section editor had cherry-picked those opportunities for himself. So you just gritted your teeth and got on the job, swearing to shut your eardrums whenever that damnable "Margaritaville" song gatecrashed its way onto some hapless bank or supermarket radio speaker.

The whole episode left you pondering what your own particular version of Hell might look like...forced to sing those f#cking songs at pitchfork point with your fellow travelers in eternal damnation...all squeezed into ill-fitting flip flops and loud Hawaiian shirts...while the demons prepare to slather some more sulphur onto your back, laughing hysterically at your torment.

Warning, warning (danger, danger): Corporate absurdities coming ahead.

All jokes apart, such incidents show how you rate in this corporate entity's scheme of things -- of which this memo, unpleasant as it reads, is only the latest reminder.  Your brain recalls a similar hammer that dropped in your email box about this time last year stating that your take home pay was getting chopped to 25 percent of its previous level.

As always, the authors cited financial constraints, and -- as always -- thanked us for our work, because we played such a valuable role for the organization. Cue one of Rod Serling's tight, clipped soliloquies: "You're on assignment for the Piecework Industrial Complex, a duty that carries no insurance, no benefits and no job security...but the pats on the back never stop coming...only in...The Twilight Zone."

Thankfully, that cloud soon lifted, but it should serve as a warning: "Don't get fooled again." As they say in business: past behavior is the best indicator of future behavior. All jokes apart, it's time to keep prospecting for alternatives that make a bit more financial sense than this one, because...all this constant nickel 'n' diming will only bleed you to death. --The Reckoner


Links To Go (Piecework-Free, Thankfuly):
You Work Tomorrow: Introduction:
http://www.press.umich.edu/pdf/9780472070008-intro.pdf

You Work Tomorrow: Table of Contents 
(Lots of great titles to look up, and savor):
http://www.press.umich.edu/pdf/9780472070008-toc.pdf

How Piecework Is Draining America Dry

1. Piece work(or piecework)
   is any type of employment in which a worker is paid a fixed piece rate for each unit produced or action performed regardless of time.

Last month, Yahoo News reported that one-third of American workers are now freelancers (34%). That's 53 million Americans who are no longer hold traditional full-time jobs with benefits (which often feel skimpy, but represent at least a token level of employer commitment).

Thsee numbers come from a survey by the Freelancers Union, whose name is one of those Orwellian oxymorons that only America can breed -- since it's actually an association, rather than a traditional union that bargains for members' interests. However, "Union" carries more weight on a letterhead than "Association," right? We'll revisit that issue shortly.

Behind all the buzzwords ("freedom," "flexibility" and "independence") lies a dark side, though. A Freelancers Union internal survey cited in the New York Times (3/24/13 shows 58 percent of its members earning less than $50,000 per year; 29 percent taking home $25,000 or less; 12 percent received food stamps during the recession; and 40 percent spent a great deal of time chasing down unpaid compensation. By any measure, that's a lot of struggling people, even though the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics doesn't feel obliged to count them.

"Don't negotiate with the bosses. Abolish them."

(Graffiti: Paris Riots: May 1968)

If you're on the receiving end of these tends, you know the drill too well. To the person engaging your services, you're a replaceable widget, a nuisance to swat aside after the bean counters whack budgets for the umpteenth time. That's the new American way: "You're doing OK? Great, let's take you down a notch." You either take the gig, or risk losing income if you say no. Most of the time, you'll get a flat that stays stubbornly frozen, even though bills never stop flying across your desk.

To the government, you're simply a cash cow. Whether you're an army of one or 100, self-employment taxes bite notoriously deep -- and, since you're paid on a per-piece, per-project basis, fripperies like health insurance, retirement and vacations remain an elusive dream, one reserved for the inner ring of lucky bastards who've locked them in. (Michigan lawmakers, for example, earn a $71,685 base salary, making them the fourth highest-paid state body after California, Pennsylvania and New York, respectively.)

To the media, you're a figure of envy (look, Ma, they're getting to sleep in, and work in their pajamas!), or a romantic loner surfing against the Man -- take your pick -- although neither of these comic stereotypes captures many newly-minted freelancers' feelings about the Gig Economy, as the Times's story makes plain:

"But many freelancers would prefer not to participate in that economy at all. They would rather have regular jobs, but companies will often hire them only as independent contractors. Companies find these workers less painful to dismiss and generally loss costly because they rarely receive severance pay or benefits like health insurance or paid vacations."

"I hear a gang cry...on the human factory farm..."

(The Clash: "This Is England")

The above quote is among the few honest nuggets in the Times's story, whose subjects bandy about buzzwords like "flexibility" and "new mutualism." If you closed your eyes and heard those words being read aloud, you might be tempted to see the steady erosion of collective bargaining rights since the Reagan era as some quaint little social experiment being conducted with white gloves and lab coats.

The Piecework Industrial Complex's subjects have a rather different take on the matter, I suspect. How can the creation of a permanently insecure contract worker underlcass really be considered good for the economy?  However, such complexities don't seem to bother Kyle Zimmer, who's working with the Freelance Union's executive director, Sara Horowitz, to set up a health cooperative for its members in Oregon.

According to the Times, Zimmer lauds Horowitz as someone who "stepped into that space, navigated through difficult waters, and created a successful insurance company that takes on traditional insurers. She did this in a way that would make anyone who believes in private enterprise proud."  Hearing such talk makes me shudder under my breath: "Be very afraid...be very afraid." (And before you whip out the confetti, read the Dissent magazine story below about how much the Freelancers Union charges for insurance, and who actually gets it -- it's an eye-opener.)

Although such projects are theoretically admirable, their value is questionable if no social change isn't in the cards...especially since the Freelancers Union doesn't bother to agitate for them on a greater societal level. The companies who pushed workers into the Non-Benefit Ghetto will keep doing it, since nobody's putting any heat them on change their ways (least of all Ms. Horowitz, whose many connections include a seat on the Federal Reserve Bank of New York Board). 

"The savage mutilation
Of the human race
Is set on course

"It is up to us
To change that course
Protest and survive!
Protest and survive!"

(Discharge: "Protest And Survive")

Funnily enough, however, all this starry-eyed prattling about "mutualism" between corporations and contractors doesn't impress those on the receiving end of the deal. That's why it's worth scrolling through the comments section of any article, such as this telling little exchange from a yahoo.com story on the same topic: 

Gigger #1: "Freelancers saturated the market and lowballed the veteran freelancers. The veterans like myself are now going back as direct hires with bennies.  The good times in freelancing are over. Put a fork in it."

Gigger #2: "After 20 years of freelancing, 10 years ago I gave it up, 'sold out' and took my first full-time jobs with benefits and 'security'...said I'd never go back to the uncertainty of freelancing...Now I'm about to be laid-off as our company closes its doors and while I know I will not starve and become homeless; at 50 I do not relish the constant search for the next payday."

Well, there's only one thing left to do...sing with me now, everyone, "Born free...as free as the wind blows...as free as the grass grows..." --The Reckoner

Links To Go (A Taste Of Stark Reality, For Those Who Can Stomach It):

Dissent Magazine: The "I" In Union

http://www.dissentmagazine.org/article/the-i-in-union

Fast Company: Tales Of Freelance Health Insurance

That Might Just Make Your Queasy:
http://www.fastcompany.com/1540138/tales-freelance-health-insurance-might-just-make-you-queasy

The New York Times: Tackling Concerns of Independent Workers

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/24/business/freelancers-union-tackles-concerns-of-independent-workers.html?pagewanted=1&_r=3&

Collisions With The Piecework Industrial Complex

Knowing people who work in creative or media-related fields has one inevitable side effect: you get asked for advice on all sorts of matters. That's not surprising, because when we're all asked to "Party Like It's 1911" (economically speaking), your financial options are limited to...oh, one from Column A, or Column A.

D'you prefer to get shot, or stabbed? D'you want Tweedledee or Tweedledum playing sneaky panther games with your lives for another two, four or six years? D'you fancy a 22 percent annual percentage rate on your bloody credit, or will 20.99 percent suit you better?  The Evil Of Two Lessers marches on.  And so on, and so forth.  And so on, and so forth...wash, rinse, repeat. 

Exploitation comes in all shapes and sizes. However, it's no secret that the media industry has undergone a column inch tsunami of epic proportions, with plenty of blood shed on the cutting room floor. If you're lucky, you get to hang onto your current lousy job by your fingernails for another year or so, while your equally sad sack employer frantically switches from Blue Cross Michigan to Blue Cross Pennsylvania to Blue Cross Illinois and back again...all in the hopes of squeezing another buck or two off the little that he's spending to keep you around. And so on, and so forth.  And so on, and so forth. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Or so he claims...the battleship-sized SUV in the parking lot tells a different story, though, doesn't it? At any rate, if you're unlucky, you're sent off to pasture with all the other unlucky sheep or goats that beat you to the punch...but don't worry! There's a solution ahead. Hell, in your less discriminating moments...you might even mistake this one for Column B.

At any rate, with so many journalists scrambling for work, it's heartening to know that some evil mustache twirling flimflam man out there has figured out a solution to keep them busy for another year or two...and it's coming soon, to a town near you...it's The Digital Sweatshop! Lots of different contract work sites are popping up like mushrooms, and while I'm not going to single out any one of them, they all tend to leave equally grimy fingerprints on the gun.

The rates are rock bottom, by industry standards (anywhere from $3-$25 per piece, based on what I've seen)...which doesn't stop the operators from wanting to own all your rights forever, "by any mediums that may yet be printed or discovered, yada-yada-yada"...you know the drill, right? You don't get laid, you barely get paid, with nary a vacation day or benefit in sight...but you sure get to work hard...and talking back isn't on the agenda.

Whatever happens, don't you dare speak up, lad, or that Column B choice will evaporate (along with the few coins tossed into your cup). And so on, and so forth. And so on, and so forth.  Wash, rinse, repeat!

I call this setup, for lack of a better description, The Piecework Industrial Complex, and its demands are getting more outrageous by the day. Recently, a friend of mine explained the travails of applying for a financial advice site that needed people to churn out copy by the pound.  There was only one hitch, though, as he explained.

Apparently, the conversation went something like this:

PIECEWORK POOBAH (PP): "Before we begin the contract, we'd like you to do a trial story first..."

MY FRIEND (MF): "OK, fine, what's the going rate?"

[CUE: Awkward silence, as the "Jeopardy" theme music plays softly in the background.]

PP: "Well, there isn't one, unless we agree to use the story. Otherwise, you don't get paid for it."

MF: "Hmmm....OK, well, how long would this endeavor take, in your estimation?"

PP: "To meet our standards?  A truly well-written, well-researched story would probably take you about eight to 10 hours."

MF: "Hmmm... [CUE more 'Jeopardy' theme music, followed by the sound of crickets chirping in the wilderness.]  I'll have to get back with you on that."

PP: "You can think as long as you like, but we'll have to review your credentials more closely, based on what you've told me earlier...we'll get back to you."

And so on, and so forth.  And so on, and so forth.  Wash, rinse, repeat!

Not having much experience with these sorts of arrangements, I asked my friend to sit tight and hold fire, while I made a contact or two on his behalf...sad to say, though, the agencies tasked with (quote-unquote) "protecting the general public" didn't seem terribly interested in giving me advice on the matter.

In particular, I contacted the California Department of Industrial Relations -- the specific sub-agency's name escapes me at the moment -- but, after a week of hearing those damnable crickets chirping in my ears, it's safe to say that nobody there seems to care. Or, let's be charitable -- they're just elegantly overworked, perhaps.

After a bit more thought, I've since reached a few conclusions:

1. One person's content farm is another person's (quote-unquote) "upstanding outfit." For every company that gets called out for its practices, remember this -- there's loads of others that never get named, but operate in the same way (sign it all away for a fraction now, son, or you won't get the work) -- just on a bigger scale.

2. The reason these little games continue (wash, rinse, repeat!) is because, for every person who flips the bird, 100 chumps elbow each other for their passport to the bottom. And these situations will never change until a bit more '77-era-punk-style awareness spreads more widely than it has, in a long time. Yes, times are tight, but there's never a convenient moment to upset the applecart.

When people stopped believing in the East German Communist paradise, it withered away, just like yesterday's papers. The same thing will happen when people stop feeding the daisy chains of content mills, no-pay media and all those other dubious models that promise endless exposure...but fuck all else for your time and trouble.

3. The exponential growth of self-publishing options appears to promise some refreshing options to the aforementioned problems, too, but your bullshit detector still needs to be humming at top speed -- because all too many seem poised to take your money, even as they nickel 'n' dime you for every service that you want 'em to undertake on your behalf. 

It reminds me of the major-versus-indie-record-label chestnut that went round and round during the '80s and '90s...for all the bitching about who sat behind the desk, 99 percent of those aspiring hopefuls still got cheated at an alarming rate. 

4. There's an old saying in business: "You don't get what you dserve, only what you negotiate." More collective action is needed -- whether we call it an association, a guild or a union doesn't matter. The point is, The Piecework Industrial Complex only wants to deal with you individually, because that way, you don't threaten their power...and you lack any real ability to improve your own lot.

Imagine what like-minded people could do, if they stopped thinking of themselves as mere cogs in the wheel, or so many grains of sand on a beach...and got together to take the high ground. Again, I realize that we're struggling to keep our heads above water, but if we don't start thinking a bit more long-term, we'll never accomplish much else. 

The struggle may be messy, and a better tomorrow is hardly guaranteed -- but it has to start somewhere. That's how I see it, anyway.

At any rate...after talking with my friend...he's not taking up the trial offer. From my perspective, this ending is equally unusual....someone who actually took my advice!  

I suppose I'll file it next to the last noble business I encountered.  And so, and so forth...and so on, and so forth. Wash, rinse, repeat! --The Reckoner

LINKS TO GO/FOOD FOR THOUGHT

A Word From David Byrne:

http://www.theguardian.com/music/2013/oct/11/david-byrne-internet-content-world

"Slaves Of The Internet, Unite":

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/10/27/opinion/sunday/slaves-of-the-internet-unite.html?_r=0

"So Who's Paying All Those Unpaid Writers?":

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/edward-wasserman/so-whos-paying-all-those-_b_2952161.html