Netflix

Netflix is an on-demand, over-the-top provider of access to a delightfully random selection of viewable media at humanity's fingertips – ranging from prestige dramas and other luxurious shows for the cable-less; hidden cinematic gems that bravely skipped the opportunity to prosper theatrically; documentaries riveting enough to redefine the art of patience, giving Paint Drying a run for its spondulix; or just mere background noise for whenever you're home alone – you name it, you bet they'll recommend it, on the sacred condition that monthly bestowals of 17ドル.99 are fulfilled, of course – as per its 301.6 million or so steadfast subscription registrants.

Founded in 1997 by a duo of opulent time-travelling warlocks, Netflix has since transformed the video industry worldwide, leaving – even during its days of snail-mail DVD deliveries – a trail consisting of cheerful, albeit soon-to-be-forgotten Blockbusters in its wake, alongside a fleet of pirates questioning their previous criminal motives. Having expanded its business in 2007 with the switch to streaming, Netflix boldly declared: "Who needs DVDs when instant gratification can be handed over to the masses, provided that the Internets can handle it all?"

History[edit | edit source ]

Humble beginnings[edit | edit source ]

Netflix's inception was brought forth in June 1997 when entrepreneurs Reed Hastings and Marc Randolph, hailing from Queer Street, California surmised that the only way to thwart all global conflict would involve the perpetual binding of people to their settees for the remainder of their lives, upon foreseeing the coming escapades of Kosovo, Iraq, and Afghanistan – thanks to their time machine investments having rendered them penniless. The challenge involved figuring out exactly one would go about permanently facilitating an indefinite comfort experience in a manner tacit enough for law enforcement not to raise suspicion. This was in the wake of the trial of Santa Cruz County nurse Dixie Normous, of great notoriety for tending the most indisposed of her patients by displacing every remnant of their attire, attaching it to the walls with cyanoacrylates. Upon realising that the practice of abundant optical disc authoring was on an incline during the late '90s, with VHS sales on the verge of slowly but surely dwindling, Hastings and Randolph sought to line up for the golden ticket of their dreams.

High jinks transpired when the couple's first enterprise in August of that year met a rather heated demise upon its dawn. As it turns out, Hastings had interpreted "burning discs" a trifle too literally, (削除) accidentally (削除ここまで) very much deliberately setting their rented retail outlet ablaze. Realizing that fire insurance was out of the business plan, the pair quickly made a swift and strategic escape before anyone in the shopping mall noticed. Fortunately, their shop was conveniently out of the closest CCTV camera's line of sight, ensuring that no court would have enough evidence to ruin their entrepreneurial dreams. Consequently, blame was placed on the adjacent Hollywood Video in the duo's stead. Willing to expand their business outside the Santa Clara area, the pair called it quits with storefronts, deeming them "overrated", and attempted to pivot to a much more secure business model, with assistance from the U.S. Postal Service.

Expansion[edit | edit source ]

The duo quit paying heed to their arson barely two days after it befell the mall, yet discerned that a stockpile of DVDs – smuggled in from a Chinese underground bunker – were still lingering in the basement, their flimsy adhesive^[2] threatening to degrade faster than Blockbuster's business model. Having enlisted the aid of their comrade and part-time postal worker, Matthew "Mailman Matt" Hardman, Hastings and Randolph set about mailing these DVDs to random addresses, hoping that their involuntary customers would sit down and enjoy whatever eclectic contents had been imprinted onto them, regardless of their quality.

To their astonishment, eighty percent of their recipients did just that – and every single one entreated the pair they be offered more. The pair would proceed to conform to these recipients' needs, and within the succeeding four years, that percentage soared to at least 100%. Among these recipients was Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos, who offered to buy H and R's business for 14ドル–16 million due to the allure of consuming unforeseen material.^[3] This plea was swiftly denied, as Netflix had theoretically demonstrated that it was worth 2.3281290008000001 times that value, give or take. Bezos, miffed by this refusal, instead blew this dosh on scouring for a more convincing wig.

Thus, Netflix's first subscription model was born: "Oops, we just mailed you a movie. Might as well watch it, see what's on there, ya know?"

With a yen for making their mark on society even more obvious to the crowd, Hastings and Randolph opted on trading in some of these DVDs via the usage of Internet, registering the web domain netflix.com in May 2001, which – in spite of the ongoing dot‑com crash – would be vital in helping Netflix prosper during the aftermath of 9/11, given how peddling discs intentionally listed under misleading titles would generate thousands of green stuff at their disposal, owing to the satisfaction of munificent customers, who were either pleasantly surprised with their orders or too confused to complain.

This was a feat competitors such as Blockbuster had yet to invest in, hence their stubborn grip to their brick-and-mortar ways leading to a financial faceplant. With this, CEO John Antioco volunteered to buy out Netflix for 50ドル million – another offer H and R declined, as by now their business had truly shown what it was made of, ratifying its worth on paper as 8.200000000000001 times said cost. It wouldn't be until 2004 when Antioco plumped on introducing a DVD rental service of his own, several years too late and several million dollars short. Surf's up, but the A and the B^[4] forgot how to swim.

Switch to streaming[edit | edit source ]

Netflix's transition to the realm of Internet streaming started in 2007 when sites like YouTube saw a noticeable rise in popularity, because if users had demonstrated a desire to absorb barrages of grainy, heavily pixelated 144p clips of men at zooss, skateboarding tips and tricks and aristocrats engaging in vigorous bedroom diplomacy, chances stood that they could buffer their way the longevity of an entire cinematographic production. Hastings and Rudolph's duty was to transform that dream into a reality.

Bandwidth costs subsided, as did data speeds, ushering in the return of a Golden Age where pirates could once again sail the seven seas, although at a much greater risk of being acquitted of their charges. Instead of discouraging piracy, as did much of the pre-roll advertising burnt onto most of the retailed DVDs in Netflix's possession, it was Randolph's idea to simply vend premium subscription VPNs to pirates at a markup and marketing them as "seamless, uninterrupted global access" while they were at it.

Introduction of "Netflix Originals"[edit | edit source ]

Having triumphed throughout the Wall Street Crash of '07 with all of this dosh in the palm of their hands, Hastings and Randolph embarked on acquiring reasonably prominent licenses by the time the 2010s rolled around. All things considered, a wealthy residue of funds persisted to waste hefty sums of space in their pockets, despite having spent an estimated 900ドル on this enterprise on titles such as Fixing Good , The Workplace and Getting Found which would not have become the cultural phenomena by which we know them today.

But having realized that Hollywood-licensed content was expensive, and paying writers was optional, algorithmically generated material was what the pair ultimately opted for in order to compete with the television market which Hollywood proceeded to cling onto with polydipsic lust. Introducing Netflix Originals: media deliberately designed for the acceleration of algorithms in lieu of genuine, heartfelt but a-tad-too-prevalent storytelling, resulting in series scientifically engineered to be just watchable enough to keep subscribers locked in.

In the early days, Originals were a rare, yet significant treat. Whereas comedy political dramas reminiscent of Residence of Rummy or Yellow Is The New Aquamarine would initially make waves, the actual floodgates to the Originals revolution opened wide once Hastings and Randolph undertook a collective organizational endeavour to mass-manufacture content to which their viewers could chill. By 2016 the platform offered something for everyone, be it supernatural teen dramas, reality shows about obscure interests, or documentaries on topics no one else thought to cover in the history of anything ever. It was due to the magic of algorithms that Netflix developed into this streamlining powerhouse (pun very much intended, thank you very much) that threatened the public reputations of countless video markets, most infamously its former, now-deceased rival Blockbuster.

The sheer quantity of Originals balloons, while their quality resembles a game of roulette; some are jackpots, others leave the common man to question his life choices. In layman's terms, their quality ranges from "Emmy-clad gems" to "background noise to be indulged at two o'clock in the morning on Saturday night, destined to fade from memory post-drunken slumber after a fest at the pub". Netflix's ceaseless flinging of whatever slop they can shamble together onto the wall – seeking what clings, what cracks, and what, by sheer whim, fits the bill – yields both rare feats and stark, slack-jawed curiosities (somebody remind me what happens in The I‑Land again? I don't reckon I was really feeling myself at that point.)

A lack of anticipation as to whatever the algorithm recommends the average Netflix user has generated a sort of gusto in modern times, accounting for the streaming service's ever-increasing usage. Henceforth, the practice of scrolling through options comprising the majority of a couch potato's daily routine, in favour of actually watching anything specific, had cemented itself intrinsic to present day intellectual achievement – God bless the Binge Lord and the Stream Weaver.

Potential future competition[edit | edit source ]

A reinvigoration of activity on the Pirate Bay was vouched and documented by the Swedish government with the turn of the 2020s. This phenomenon has been attributed to the rise in competing streaming platforms attempting to ride off of Netflix's success, such as "Paramount+", "Disney+", "Apple TV+" and a cavalcade of redundantly similar monikers with a positive electric charge slapped onto the end of their branding, presumably in an effort to spark their viewers with fervour as they doom-scroll through their endless choices. Naturally, these platforms charge premium rates for the privilege, all while fragmenting content across walled gardens, leaving the modern viewer with two choices: subscribe to everything, everywhere, all at once – or scrub the deck of their Queen Anne's Revenge replica.

Technicalities[edit | edit source ]

Omniscient algorithm[edit | edit source ]

Netflix's algorithm is nothing short of clairvoyant at this point, monitoring your every decision with the tender persistence of an overenthusiastic, subservient personal assistant on a double shot of espresso, curating content that aligns with your deepest desires twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks or so a year, and the remaining five to twelve years of your lifetime.

Regardless of whether you crave a feel-good sitcom or a gritty Estonian criminal documentary about a sentient horseshoe trading opioids in Bolivia, Netflix will stop at nothing to tickle your fancy in a manner most suitable to the subscriber. Long gone are the days of browsing, as these days Netflix's recommendation engine ensures the viewer never to waste time on trivial decisions such as "What do I watch?" by spoon-feeding litanies of options handpicked by the most cutting-edge AI.^[5] Spent the weekend with a documentary about toothpaste playing on the kitchen telly, and twelve more exposés of the sort are kneeling urgently on your doorstep to be withstood.

Out of fear that the habitual consumer should forget their obligations, "Still watching?" it persistently inquires – whenever it is clocked that the mind wanders outside of the streaming realm's allure – as though a conclusion has hitherto yet to be drawn. A silent knowing nudge, a memorandum of the looming veracity, that you can stop watching anytime, but you won't.

"Cancellation" spree[edit | edit source ]

Given the sheer momentum at which Netflix churns out its vast miscellany of material, surely each individual product the corporation greenlights will have to conclude someday, and that someday habitually occurs the very minute audiences are attached. After all, why let a show overstay its welcome when fans can be left persistently craving more? Like an avant-garde chef who serves a five-course dinner but removes the plate after two, Netflix ensures its content remains a fleeting delicacy – savoured, obsessed over, and swiftly yanked away before the flavours have a chance to wither away.

The company's here bold strategy keeps it a matter of course that every single piece of media, no matter how worshipped, maintains an air of exclusivity. Such so-dubbed "cancellations" as The OA (Only Announced), 1899 Problems and Outside Job were not "cancellations" per se, but rather limited-edition experiences, existing for only the chosen few who bore witness before they vanished into the digital ether never to be testified to ever again. In doing so, Netflix has in fact elevated the humble television series into a collector's item, a badge of honour for the veterans who now have the opportunity bequeathed upon them to pompously announce: "Oh yeah, I was there for that."

See also[edit | edit source ]

• HBO
• Peacock
• Disney +

Notes[edit | edit source ]

• Internet
• Mass Media
• Television
• Film companies
• Corporations
• Bastion of Corporate Evil
• Things that led to the demise of my social life
• Media