The NYT runs a scathing review of the new Akimbo set-top box. The device purports to offer video-on-demand, but it seems there's no video to speak of, and few viewers demand the patchwork of restrictions on viewing or saving what there is.

Akimbo's library is laughable. As Akimbo's Web site puts it, the list includes AdvenTV, "the first on- demand Turkish station in the U.S."; Veg TV, "vegetarian cooking instruction"; and Skyworks, "helicopter flights over the most spectacular landscapes of Britain."

...

[And] not only do you pay for the Akimbo box and its monthly $10 fee to get no-name shows, you also have to pay per show. And even then, the show you buy will erase itself after a month! This is piracy paranoia run amok. It's insane to think that anyone would pay so much for cheesy cable reruns and oddities like three-minute how-to videos for new mothers.

To make matters worse, the rental terms are different for every show. Some are free. (Akimbo says 40 percent are free, but that tally includes movie trailers, video blogs, two-minute CNN snippets and other free stuff from the Web.) The rest cost 50 cents to $5; pornographic movies are $10 (parental controls are available). Some stay on your hard drive forever, some self-destruct after 7 or 30 days, and some give you only a two-day window to watch.

To be fair, the fault is less Akimbo's than the studios and TV networks, who'd prefer to wage Pyrrhic war against unauthorized downloading of their content than to offer a convenient, lawful alternative. They'd rather strangle TV tuners with the broadcast flag than see competitive, unfettered devices flourish. Thankfully, Rep. Barton seems to be pushing back for viewers' rights.

For a weeklong tribute to Beethoven, BBC radio will not only be broadcasting his music non-stop, they're offering all nine symphonies for download. Brilliant!

As a column in The Scotsman notes, this is a terrific way for the BBC to introduce a new audience to classical music -- an audience for which its recordings, not Karajan or Bernstein, are the standard.

It may turn out that Noseda's Beethoven becomes the household version to computer-literate millions in China, India or Korea who have never heard of Karajan or Klemperer and could, in any event, never afford the price of a DG or EMI set.

To them, Noseda and the BBC Phil are the bringers of light and arbiters of art. When, two or three decades hence, China is the world's largest industrial power, it will be Noseda's Beethoven that couples recall as their formative revelation, as our grandparents once savoured Toscanini's.

The BBC recordings will apparently be offered for download for a week after they're played on the radio next week. No no word yet on format or license, but I have high hopes for an organization that understands its role as promoting culture, not just commerce. (For more Beeb coolness, see also Creative Archive and BBC Backstage.)

Thanks Danny!