Imagine this: Elle, an attractive blonde, brown-eyed female in Boston becomes an overnight celebrity for her YouTube video series, “Chasing Rings,” in which she bemoans the modern dating world in the form of her self-produced rap songs. In each video, Elle wears a different pink shirt. As her video blog continues to gain popularity, a New York clothing company develops an online advertising campaign supporting the legalization of gay marriage. The campaign is displayed on online news and social networking sites. One of the men featured in the ad wears a long blonde wig, has large brown eyes, and wears a pink tank top; the other is dressed in traditional male garb. The ad states, “He liked it, but he couldn’t put a ring on it.” The phrase, closely paralleling a well-known pop lyric, is used with pop celebrity Beyoncé’s permission. Elle, a law student, decides that this ad appears to reference her and decides to sue under her state-law right of publicity. Since the ads were displayed nationally, she hires an attorney to sue under Indiana law because she thinks she has the best chance of winning her case in that state. After initial discovery, the gay rights campaign agrees to settle the case for five million dollars because it thinks that Elle is likely to prevail. The ad campaign is shut down and the company is forced to downsize.

In the past decade, the entertainment industry has waged a very successful legal campaign against online copyright infringements. In a series of high-profile decisions, content industries have persuaded courts to accept expansive interpretations of contributory enforcement, to create novel doctrines of copyright infringement, and to apply broad interpretations of statutory damage provisions. Many private file sharers, technology companies, university administrators, and Internet service providers have felt the reach of this litigation effort. Yet a significant empirical anomaly exists: even as the copyright industry has ramped up the level of deterrence, online copyright infringements continue unabated.

Why has the legal battle against file sharers been so ineffective? The most straightforward explanation is that infringers are not deterred, either because the probability of getting caught remains remote or because the sanctions are not sufficiently salient. If that is the case, the expansive statutory damage award remedies in decisions such as Capitol Records v. Thomas-Rasset and Sony BMG v. Tenenbaum carry renewed promise for the entertainment industry.

With our culture’s celebrity obsession intensifying each year, it is not surprising that recent media attention has concentrated on the children of these famous faces. Unfortunately, there are currently no adequate federal or state laws in place to protect these children from being hounded by paparazzi and exploited by entertainment magazines and Web sites worldwide. This Note examines the evolution of antipaparazzi legislation and analyzes the inadequacies of current and proposed legal protections. Further, it recommends strengthening existing safeguards by creating paparazzi-free buffer zones around family-oriented areas and following international approaches to maintaining an adequate level of privacy, and consequently safety, for celebrity children.

Because Kid Nation was the first reality show to feature minors exclusively, it provides a fitting springboard from which to evaluate whether reality children in general are covered by the FLSA’s child labor provisions. Although FLSA coverage must be determined on a case-by- case basis, a discussion of Kid Nation, and of reality television in general, will illuminate relevant characteristics of the genre and help guide future analysis of this issue. Given the untempered success and growth of reality television, it is unlikely that Kid Nation will be the last program to utilize the services of children. Again, a determination of FLSA coverage will hinge on three questions: (1) Are the children performing work?; (2) Are the children employees?; and (3) Are the children exempt as actors or performers?

In June 2005, the Supreme Court held that the peer-to-peer (“P2P”) networks Grokster and Streamcast1 could be held liable for contributory copyright infringement upon a showing that network administrators clearly expressed support for or took other affirmative steps to encourage infringement. In the Supreme Court’s only prior holding on the issue of secondary liability, Sony Corp. of America v. Universal City Studios, Inc., the Court established that a manufacturer could not be held liable for contributory infringement if the device was “capable of substantial noninfringing uses.” In Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc. v. Grokster, Ltd., the Court focused on the networks’ culpable conduct-relying on an inducement theory-and came to a conclusion that would allow the lower court to find Grokster liable on remand without resolving the current circuit split on the issue4 or rethinking or reinterpreting its prior holding in Sony. This ruling essentially overturned the Ninth Circuit’s holding that Grokster was not liable for its users’ infringement merely by virtue of the fact that the system also had substantial noninfringing uses. The Grokster Court instead held that the Sony doctrine did not foreclose the possibility that an actor could be liable for contributory infringement, even if the device is capable of substantial noninfringing uses, when there is evidence the actor encouraged and induced illegal use of the product.

America’s fascination with fame and celebrities is self-evident. In our culture, fame is used effectively to persuade, inspire, and inform the public in almost every aspect of our lives. Thus, for celebrities, fame has an inherent economic value, which they endeavor to enhance and protect through the relatively recent legal doctrine of the right of publicity. Broadly defined, the right of publicity is the “inherent right of every human being to control the commercial use of his or her identity.” Celebrities invoke this right to prevent the unauthorized commercial use of their names, likenesses, or other aspects of their identities in order to protect and control their valuable personas.

Celebrities were recently deprived of a valuable asset. This time, however, the perpetrator was not an Internet hacker, a supermarket tabloid, or an unscrupulous business manager. It was the United States Supreme Court. Although State Farm Mutual Automobile Insurance Co. v. Campbell concerns the constitutionality of punitive damages, it may have the unintended effect of limiting celebrities’ nationwide rights of publicity.

Hollywood is an impersonal, uncaring, and unforgiving place, and artists need the sophisticated assistance of third parties to help them locate employment opportunities and to assist them in making career decisions. This is where talent agents and personal managers step in. Agents and managers represent artists, and their collective role in the entertainment industry is straightforward. According to agent Joel Dean, they “try to put [artists and producers] together to make a match . . . . It couldn’t be simpler.”

To be more specific, agents procure employment for talent. Their job is to get the artists they represent as much work as possible. Managers, on the other hand, shape artists’ careers. Their job is to serve their clients in an advisory capacity and to counsel them on the career options that have been made available to them through their agents. When looked at this way, things seem very black-and-white: Agents present artists with employment opportunities, and managers suggest which of those opportunities artists should accept.