The Constellation in Art: Multinational Tropes in the 3D Videogame

The Constellation in Art:

Multinational Tropes in the 3D Videogame

[Based on a talk given at the 2004 MLA.]

            There are two things which need to be said about Theodor Adorno’s relevance to the world of videogame culture. The usual objection against Adorno is that he was clueless about jazz and film. This is true – but it is also irrelevant. The reason is that Adorno was critiquing the mainstream Hollywood films and radio broadcasts of the 1940s – or what we would consider an irredeemably militarized, patriarchal, racist and sexist mass culture. Yet it is Adorno’s conceptual work, and in particular his project of a negative or multinational dialectics, which has become indispensable to the study of the multinational media culture today.
            To give you a sense of what I’m talking about, here are two key sections from Negative Dialectics. The first describes the relationship of the micrology to the macrology, while the second focuses on the problem of aesthetic form.


Argument and Experience (ND 39-42, my translation)
Immersion into the particular, dialectical immanence raised to an extreme, requires as one of its moments the freedom to also step out of the object, the freedom which the claim of identity cuts off. Hegel would have abjured this; he relied upon the complete mediation in objects. In the praxis of cognition, the resolution of the irresolvable, the moment of such transcendence of thought comes to light in that solely as a micrology does it employ macrological means. The demand for committalness [Verbindlichkeit] without system is that for thought-models. These are not of a merely monadological sort. The model strikes the specific and more than the specific, without dissolving it into its more general master-concept. To think philosophically is so much as to think in models; negative dialectics is an ensemble of model-analyses.


Constellation (ND 164-166, my translation)
The unifying moment survives, without the negation of the negation, yet also without delivering itself to the abstraction as the highest principle, not by advancing step by step towards the general master-concept from the concepts, but by these latter entering into a constellation. These illuminate the specifics of the object which the classifying procedure is indifferent towards or uncomfortable with. The model for this is the conduct of language. It offers no mere sign-system for cognitive functions. Where it appears essentially as language, becoming portrayal [Darstellung], it does not define its concepts. It obtains their objectivity through the relationship in which it posits the concepts, centered around a thing. It thereby serves the intention of the concept, to wholly express what is meant. Solely constellations represent, from without, what the concept has cut away from within, the "more", which the former wishes to be, so very much as it cannot be the latter. By gathering around the thing to be cognized, the concepts potentially determine its innermost core, thinking to attain what thinking necessarily stamped out of itself. The Hegelian usage of the terminus concrete, according to which the thing itself is its context, not its pure selfness, registers this, without however, in spite of all critique of discursive logic, ignoring this. But Hegel's dialectic was one without language, while the simplest literal meaning of dialectics postulates language; to this extent Hegel remained the adept of current science. He did not need language in the emphatic sense, because to him everything, even what is devoid of language and opaque, is supposed to be Spirit and the Spirit, the context. This supposition is beyond salvation. That which is resolvable, which is not in any previously-thought context, does indeed transcend its self-enclosed nature out of itself, as what is non-identical. It communicates with that from which the concept separated it. It is opaque only for the totality-claim of identity; it resists the latter's pressure. As such however it seeks expression. Through language it dispels the bane of its selfness. What in the non-identical is not to be defined in its concept, surpasses its individual existence, which shrinks into the polarity to the concept, at which it stares. The interior of the non-identical is its relationship to that which it is not itself and which its instituted, frozen identity with itself withholds from it. It attains itself only in its disclosure [Entaeusserung: removal, relinquishment, realization], not in its hardening; this can still be learned from Hegel, without making concessions to the repressive moments of his doctrine of realization [Entaeusserung]. The object opens itself to a monadological insistence, which is the consciousness of the constellation, in which it stands: the possibility of immersion in what is internal necessitates what is external. Such immanent universality of the individual however is objective as sedimented history. This is in it and outside it, something all-encompassing, in which it has its place. To become aware of the constellation in which the thing stands, means so much as to decode the one which the latter bears within itself, as what has come to be. The chorismos of the outside and the inside is for its part historically conditioned. The only knowledge which can unleash the history in the object, is that which is aware of the historical positional value of the object in its relationship to others; the updating and concentration of something already known, which it transforms. The cognition of the object in its constellation is that of the process, which it has stored up within itself. As a constellation the theoretical thought circles around the concept, which it would like to open, hoping, that it springs ajar like the lock of a heavily guarded safe: only not by means of a single key or a single number, but by a number-combination.


It’s interesting that Adorno’s discussion of the constellation ends with a reference to the safecracker, in other words, to the jewel heist movie, one of the most prevalent forms of the 1950s and early 1960s mass media, everywhere from Peter Sellers’ Pink Panther comedies to Hitchcock’s To Catch a Thief (1955). The closest contemporary version of this is the hacker narrative, the thief who steals data instead of carbonized rocks. It’s worth emphasizing that Adorno’s concept of language is extremely complex and nuanced, and cannot be reduced to a sign-system or discursive code. Language is a proxy of the dialectic between aesthetic form and historical content, not a substitute for such. It is a key bridge-mediation between the modernist aesthetics of the monopoly era – the span from Baudelaire to Beckett – and the economic structures of monopoly capitalism – the span from the Birmingham textile mill to the General Motors factory. Today I would update Adorno’s terminology only slightly, and argue that the hegemonic language of our day, namely the multinational media culture, is the key bridge-mediation between the aesthetic forms of the multinational era, and the economic structures of multinational capitalism.
            What Adorno’s concept of the constellation gives us is a way of measuring and triangulating that dialectic, or what amounts to a tremendously powerful theory of multinational form. By reading these forms in terms of objective constellations, that is to say, as multinational texts or documents (a process with deep affinities, it should be noted, to Fredric Jameson’s notion of cognitive mapping) we can begin to disclose the social history bound up in those texts. To that end, Adorno relies on a counterweight and corrective on the constellation, namely the micrology. This refers to the smallest possible metric or unit of differentiation between objects.
            As it turns out, the 3D videogame is a treasure-trove of potential constellations and micrologies. On the level of the constellation, the 3D videogame mobilizes a vast array of scripts, icons, tropes, music, sounds, animation, film, video clips and streaming media. From the standpoint of the micrology, the 3D videogame is closely tied to the politics of the information culture, or the struggles over open source software and an emergent “information commons”, a.k.a. electronic public space. Ironically, while the hardware for the 3D videogame was designed and created by some of the biggest electronics and computer manufacturers in the world, the software was spawned by the information commons back in the early 1990s, when id Software put their videogame Doom on a server and let players download part of the game for free. Later, players created freeware versions of level maps, monster and player models, game items, sound-effects, and entire game packs – some of them better than the original games.
            Since the mid-1990s, videogames have proliferated from computers and console systems to handheld devices and cellphones. This has meant a drastic expansion of the videogame audience, from First World consumers and Second World professionals, to Second World consumers and Third World professionals. In fact, I would argue that the 3D videogame has revolutionized our sense of space, in precisely the same fashion that the cellphone has revolutionized our sense of time.¹
            This aesthetic revolution presents cultural critics with a thorny set of problems, not least of which is the issue of technological literacy. All the interpretive problems we face when analyzing a text are compounded tenfold by the overwhelming size, scale and complexity of the information culture. This is where Adorno’s concepts become indispensable: the constellation and the micrology, when properly used, function very much the theoretical versions of a Web-browser and a search engine, respectively.
            Let’s start with the micrology – Adorno’s variation of Google, if you will. What the micrology teaches us is that the 3D videogame can only be understood by reference to its own specific aesthetic field, i.e. electronic media, as opposed to its reappropriation of other aesthetic forms. Videogames must be fundamentally playable, as opposed to being fundamentally watchable, listenable or readable. This has an interesting corollary in terms of the sheer wealth of technological means available to videogame writers and designers. One would think that all these technologies would make the task of producing viable games easier, but just the reverse is true – the more the forces of aesthetic production develop, the greater the pressure on the relations of aesthetic production to keep pace. Nowadays, videogame designers have to balance game flow, player motivation, skill balance, playability, replayability, interactivity, single-player vs. multiplayer forms, sound-track, scripting, and many other things besides. Good games will blend all these effects into a seamless whole; truly great games will reinvent all these things, pushing them into a whole new direction, or rearranging an existing library of effects into a new synthesis.
            Examples of good games include Id Software’s Quake games, which spawned true 3D and multiplayer gaming in the early to mid-1990s, Capcom’s Devil May Cry, a nifty action-adventure thriller with some wonderful action moves, and Hideo Kojima’s Metal Gear Solid 3, which has a subpar plot but wonderful game design. Rockstar’s wonderfully creative Grand Theft Auto 3 series and Nintendo’s Legend of Zelda series also deserve honorable mention here, as marvels of game balance and design. That said, truly great games are as rare as great novels. My own position is that there are indeed a few, most notably Valve Software’s Half Life (1998), the first great 3D single-player videogame, which created the art of texture design and modding; Neil Manke’s They Hunger mods (2000-01), which revolutionized the Half Life engine and game scripting in general; and finally Remedy Software’s Max Payne (2001), the first third-person classic of the 21^st century, which invented bullet-time and raised game-scripting to a whole new level.
            Due to reasons of time, I’m going to focus on Half Life, and I want to begin by sketching out some of the main features of the contemporary mass media. While videogame sales are larger than the box office receipts of film, videogames as a whole make up only a small part of the entire media industry. Total advertising revenues are roughly three times as large as total media revenues:


Table 1. Mass media markets in US. Data: NPD, ZenithOptimedia, Wedbush Morgan Securities

Category	US Sales 2003	Composition
Videogames (hardware plus software)	$11.2 billion	Console software 58%, total hardware 31%, PC software 11%
Cinema (box office)	$10.1 billion	---
DVD and videotape sales	$22.5 billion	(64% sales, 36% rentals)
Total media	$43.8 billion

Table 2. Ad markets in US, 2003. Data: ZenithOptimedia

Category of Advertising	US Ad Markets 2003
Print advertising	$51.4 billion
TV advertising	$48.9 billion
Internet	$6.5 billion
Other (radio, billboard, etc.)	$21.2 billion
Total	$128 billion

Surprising as it sounds, this advertising stream is not driven by pictures, but by texts – local newspapers and magazines are 40.1% of all ad spending, TV makes up 38.1%, while the Internet amounts to only 5.1% of total spending ($6.5 billion).² The picture is similar elsewhere on the planet. In 2004, Zenith Optimedia noted that the ratio of ad spend to GDP has held steady in the US and EU, at about 1.4% and 0.9%, respectively, while Japan’s ad spend was 0.7% of its GDP.³ To make a long story short, text is the once and future king of the media jungle.

Table 3. Ad Spending as Percent of GDP. Source: Eurostat and World Bank data from 2003, Zenith Optimedia, Nikkei Weekly⁴, Business Korea⁵, UK TradeInvest⁶, based on 2003 exchange rates (1.2 US dollars = 1 euros = 0.7 British pounds = 129 Japanese yen)

Country or Region	Ad Spending as Percent of GDP	Ad Spend in Billion EUR
US	1.4%	108
Europe	0.9%	78
Japan	0.7%	27.2
Asia-Pacific (excluding Japan)	1%	30.8
of which: China	0.9%	10.5
of which: Korea	1%	4.5
of which: remainder Asia-Pacific	1%	15.8
Latin America	1%	21.8
India	0.5%	2.5
World	1%	285.6

Table 4. Ad Spending by Type. Source: The Media in Europe 2004, ZenithOptimedia 2004, Nikkei Weekly, UK TradeInvest. European data from 2000, 2001 and 2002, US and Japanese data from 2003.

Country	All print as % of total ad spend	TV as % of total ad spend	Ratio of print to TV
Switzerland	71.0%	13.0%	5.5
Finland	73.5%	18.2%	4.0
Ireland	63.0%	19.0%	3.3
Sweden	68.9%	23.2%	3.0
UK	64.9%	25.1%	2.6
Austria	55.4%	23.0%	2.4
India	50.0%	30.0%	1.7
Denmark	33.0%	16.0%	2.1
France	45.2%	30.1%	1.5
Norway	53.9%	38.8%	1.4
Slovenia	46.3%	35.1%	1.3
Japan	43.0%	33.0%	1.3
Greece	51.8%	43.5%	1.2
Germany	48.5%	42.8%	1.1
Spain	45.0%	42.6%	1.1
US	40.1%	38.1%	1.1
Netherlands	41.2%	45.0%	0.9
Belgium	36.1%	43.2%	0.8
Czech Rep	37.0%	46.0%	0.8
Slovakia	34.8%	46.6%	0.7
Italy	35.3%	58.2%	0.6
Poland	32.8%	65.1%	0.5
Hungary	27.5%	59.5%	0.5

Print and text literacy are not disappearing in the brave new world of video and the Web. Rather, they are becoming even more important. Though we academics often lament the decline of reading, as if there was some Golden Age of literacy, what’s really happening is that the form of reading is changing. Our students don’t necessarily read long novels, but they do read plenty of messages, and decode astonishing amounts of information via email, text messaging and the Web.
            Bearing all this in mind, let’s turn to the specifics of Half Life, the 1998 videogame which ushered in a revolution in game design. Half Life was created by Valve Software, a firm founded by three former Microsoft executives, who cashed in their stock options in the mid-1990s and started their own company. Half Life’s essential narrative premise was an alien invasion on a secret military base – one of the oldest themes of Cold War sci-fi around. But what transformed what could have been a second-rate action game into a stupendous work of art was its script, written by sci-fi and fantasy writer Marc Laidlaw. Laidlaw turned the trope of the Cold War alien invasion on its head, creating an allegory of a predatory interstellar neoliberalism which literally and figuratively overwhelms the US Empire’s military-industrial complex. Laidlaw’s script also depicts the creation of a new type of class solidarity between global professionals, factory-workers and benevolent aliens, who have to fight for their survival against the death squads of the US Empire and villainous neoliberal aliens.
            What made Half Life so remarkable was its capacity to borrow from so many aesthetic genres, all at once. It borrowed its storyline from Cold War sci-fi, its inventory system from console games, its skeletal animation system from the animation industry, its voice-acting from the radio industry (thanks to the superb voice acting of Bay Area radio artist Harry “Hal” Robbins), its character-system from text-based role-playing games, its sound-track from the sonic vocabulary of late 1990s hip hop and techno, and its basic imagery from Cold War science fiction. The game even borrowed its graphics engine: the basic software which depicts the scenery and gameplay is a licensed variation of Id Software’s Quake 2 engine.
            What Half Life did which no other game had done before, however, was to bring all of these elements into compositional balance. One of the biggest reasons for the production of bad videogames is that the culture-industry is forever trying to convert one brand of cultural capital into another – a book into a movie, a movie into a videogame, a videogame into a movie, and so forth. The result is typically a lopsided game, which excels at one or two things, but fails as an aesthetic experience. The videogame version of Return of the King is a case in point: though blessed with outstanding voice acting and a great storyline, the gameplay was frustratingly uneven (with the partial exception of the Southern Gate sequence.) By contrast, the game-play in Half Life is uniformly excellent. Each sequence flows logically into the next, while cleverly scripted in-game events obviate the need for unnecessary exposition. The game-world is highly interactive, and manages to sustain the narrative even when a specific level or sequence doesn’t work as well as it could (for example, the very problematic final levels on Xen). Fellow scientists and security guards will stop to talk to the player-character, and aliens and soldiers really do work as teams, which means players must be quick on their feet and capable of finding creative solutions to problems.
            Half Life also contributed heavily to the development of an open source gaming community – or, put another way, the spread of the open source movement to the 3D videogame field. Beginning with Id Software’s 1993 shareware classic, Doom, fans have spawned entire Web-communities based around popular videogames, where hobbyists can create and download specialized custom modifications, level and strategy guides, player and character models, etc. Unlike many other companies, Valve Software was very supportive and appreciative of the mod community, and encouraged the distribution of mapping tools, guides, and other programs to the Web-community. The result was an explosion of add-on levels and maps, all created by independent, non-profit, non-commercial groups of hobbyists, programmers and fans of the original game.
            Some of the most successful of these mods and maps became new games: Half Life spawned multiplayer games such as Counter Strike and Team Fortress, while level author Neil Manke created a tremendous set of single-player maps for Half Life called They Hunger, which signified a true revolution in 3D map design and scripting.⁷ (Even today, Half Life and its spin-offs remain the most popular online multiplayer platforms, according to Gamespy’s server statistics.) This was probably the last personal computer game to do this, simply because future console systems will have built-in Web access of some kind (probably a combination of broadband and wireless).


Table 5. Videogame Chronology

Period	Design Innovations	Games
1960s	Invention of videogame (minicomputer), multiplayer component and elegant code	Space War (1961)
1970s	Arcade and first home consoles (Atari)	Pong (1972), Breakout (1976), Space Invaders (1978)
1980s	2D platform and maze games (jumpers and scrollers). Console systems: Nintendo Famicom (1985)	Pac Man (1980), Donkey Kong (1981), Centipede (1981), SuperMario (1985)
1990s	Invention of 3D games (1993) and handheld market (first Gameboy 1989) Simulated 3D 1990-95, true 3D 1996 (first 3D console games arrived in 1996, e.g. SuperMario 64)	Doom, id Software (1994) (multiplayer and shooter design; shareware) Quake, id Software (1996) Half Life, Valve Software (1998) (First post-Cold War 3D epic)
2000s	Online gaming, cell phone as platform	They Hunger, Neil Manke (2001-02) Max Payne, Remedy Software (2001)

I want to close with a few thoughts on where the videogame culture is headed. The next generation of consoles is due out in 2005 – Playstation 3, the Xbox 2, and Nintendo’s Revolution console, all of which will represent a stupendous advance in aesthetic form, far more impressive than the transition from the first Playstation to the second. The most interesting effects, though, will be the rise of local variations of gaming, and in particular cellphone games. This is an area where the EU is particularly strong, due to its homegrown GSM standard for cellphone technology, which has become the leading global form (there are others, like Qualcomm’s CDMA, but GSM runs about 70% of the world’s cellphones). Here are the numbers:

Table 6. The Celling of the World. Source: International Telecommunications Union, Web: www.itu.int/ITU-D/ict/statistics

Category (in millions)	1991	1995	1999	2003
Fixed Telephone Lines	546	689	905	1,210
Mobile Lines	16	91	490	1,329
Mobile as % all lines	2.8%	11.7%	35.1%	52.3%
Personal computers	130	235	435	650
Internet users	4.4	40	277	665
Ratio of mobile lines to computers	12.3%	38.7%	112.6%	204.5%

Cellphones are becoming especially important in East Asia’s semiperiphery. This is important, because by the end of 2004, roughly 80% of all new cellphones are equipped with sophisticated color displays. By the end of 2005, most new phones will have the processing power to run a variety of games – Nokia’s N-Gage QD is just the first in what will be a videogame avalanche.
            What makes cellphones so interesting is their sheer ubiquity. By the end of 2003, there were 95 million second-generation videogame consoles around the world (70 million PS2s, 13.7 million Xboxes, and 13.9 million Nintendo Gamecubes). By comparison, the installed base of Sony’s original Playstation reached 94 million between 1994-2003. Nintendo’s Gameboy sold 121 million units between 1989-2003, while the Gameboy Advance sold 48 million between 2001-2003. These numbers cannot even begin to compare with the 1.5 billion cellphones operational in 2003.


Table 7. Mobile lines in the world. The following 20 states make up 4.34 billion people, or two-thirds of the planet. Note that 3 billion citizens live in countries with 40 or more lines (mobile plus fixed) per 100 residents, another 0.7 billion live in countries with 40 to 20 total lines, while those who have less than 20, have 2.6 billion citizens. (Data: ITU, World Bank, Eurostat)

Rank	State	Mobile Subscribers 2003 (millions)	Population 2003 (millions)	Mobiles per 100 residents 2003
1	EU	328.3	454	72.3
2	China (including Hong Kong)	276.2	1,294	21.5
3	US	158.7	290	54.7
4	Japan	86.7	127	68.2
5	Brazil	46.4	182	25.5
6	South Korea	33.6	48	69.6
7	Russia	32.8	145	22.7
8	Mexico	30.9	105	29.5
9	Turkey	27.9	68	41.0
10	India	26.2	1,050	2.5
11	Taiwan	25.1	23	111.0
12	Philippines	22.5	85	26.6
13	Thailand	21.8	64	33.9
14	South Africa	16.9	43	39.5
15	Australia	14.3	20	72.5
16	Canada	13.2	32	41.0
17	Indonesia	11.7	235	5.0
18	Malaysia	11.1	23	48.1
19	Morocco	7.3	32	23.0
20	Saudi Arabia	7.2	24	29.6

Table 8. Largest potential markets. The below group has 772 million citizens and very low rates of mobile usage.

State	Mobile Subscribers 2003 (millions)	Population 2003 (millions)	Mobiles per 100 residents 2003
Egypt	5.8	75	7.7
Iran	3.4	68	5.0
Nigeria	3.1	134	2.3
Vietnam	2.7	82	3.3
Pakistan	2.7	151	1.8
Bangladesh	1.4	138	1.0
Congo (Dem. Rep.)	1.0	57	1.8
Ethiopia	0.1	67	0.1

            Cellphones also tend to follow the logic of the open source revolution much more closely than computers or consoles, which are specialized, proprietary electronic appliances. There is one remarkable anticipation of cellphone gaming in Half Life, and that is a sequence where your player-character launches a satellite into orbit, described elsewhere at the end of my book on information culture, Satellite Uplink:⁸

“...After the backblast of the launch dissipates, a giant rotating hologram of the Earth appears in the control room, accompanied by a sound-track comprised of half fuzz-guitar and half electronic feedback. The hologram refers back to one of the very first symbols of globalization in the story, namely the sign in the Anomalous Materials lab, which depicts a rectangular area map of the world embossed with the transparent Black Mesa logo. That is, a two-dimensional global mapping technology, associated with the military-industrial labs of the Cold War, has been transformed into a reflexive symbol of the 3D videogame culture. (Conversely, the post-launch sound-track is the global update of the ethereal, hollow electronic background music of the opening tram ride.)”

          “This reappropriation of the Cold War satellite by a multinational gaming culture chimes with one of the key developments of the late 1990s, and that is the emergence of post-American media infrastructures, everywhere from the GSM standard for mobile phones to the European Union’s independent satellite communications system, the Galileo project. It is deeply symbolic that Half Life begins precisely as it ends, namely with Gordon Freeman inside a tramcar. The key difference is that the scenic vistas of Black Mesa in the opening scene have been replaced by the stylized light-trails of stars, hurtling past at warp speed. Connoisseurs of potboiler Cold War spy fiction will note this scene parodies one of the fundamental clichés of the genre, i.e. the concluding debriefing in a London or Washington, DC office. Fittingly, it is Half Life’s tramcar – that archetypal symbol of urban public space, available elsewhere in the polarized central business districts of films ranging from the Wachowskis’ The Matrix (1999) to David Fincher’s Fight Club (1999) – which incarnates Freeman’s symbolic leap from the Cold War underground to the open source resistances of the Information Age.”

Endnotes

1. Although videogames are often derided as expensive toys for privileged First World engineers or as mere children’s entertainment, the reality is that videogames have become a hegemonic aesthetic form of multinational capitalism. Global videogame sales are larger than global cinema box office receipts, and the videogame industry continues to grow at rates of between 10-15% a year. Latest of all, online gaming is taking off – the Korean Game Development and Promotion Institute has estimated that total revenues of online Korean games will rise from $233 million in 2001 to about $640 million in 2004. (About a fifth of this latter, or roughly $143 million, will consist of foreign royalties.)
For a fuller account of the 3D videogame, see Chapter 5 of my text, Satellite Uplink: http://www.efn.org/~dredmond/PP5.html

2. Suzanne Vranica, “US Ad Spending Rose by 6.1% in 2003.” Wall Street Journal, March 9, 2004 (B6). Note that Vranica cites data from TNS Media Intelligence/CMR.

3. Web: www.zenithoptimedia.com/pubsmain.htm (2004). Note further that
ZenithOptimedia forecast global ad spend at $343 billion in 2004 (“The harder hard sell: the future of advertising.” June 26, 2004 edition of The Economist).

4. Nikkei Weekly, December 15, 2003

5. Business Korea, “Advertising Revenues and its Growth by Year”, April 2004, pg 49. This article estimated that 2002 ad revenues in Korea at about $5.4 billion, or 1% of GDP; although Korea is one of the most wired countries on the planet, only 2.9% of this was online advertising.

6. TradeInvest (www.trade.uktradeinvest.gov.uk/creative/india/profile/overview.shtml) estimated India’s ad spend as follows: print 50%, TV 30%, outdoor 16%, radio 2% and the internet 2%. The same report also estimates that the 2003 Indian mass media market was about twice as large as ad spend, generating $4.97 billion of output (roughly 1% of GDP). The shares of the media market look like this: TV revenues (broadcasting plus programming receipts) 65.6%, film 19.3%, music 4.5%, videogames 4.5%, radio 1% and live entertainment 1%.

7. See Chapter 6 of my own Satellite Uplink: http://www.efn.org/~dredmond/PP6.html

8. See Chapter 5 of my own Satellite Uplink: http://www.efn.org/~dredmond/PP5.html