On Wednesday, Afroman won a widely watched defamation lawsuit that seven cops filed after the rapper made music videos mocking them for conducting a 2022 raid of his home that resulted in no charges and no marijuana found.

Videos for songs like "Lemon Pound Cake," "Why You Disconnecting My Video Camera," and "Will You Help Me Repair My Door" used real footage from the raid, pulling from security camera footage and videos shot by Afroman's wife. Cops from the Adams County Sheriff's Office alleged they were humiliated and received death threats after the videos went viral.

Accusing Afroman of defamation, cops individually sought damages as high as $1.5 million. But Afroman's lawyer, David Osborne, argued this was a clear-cut First Amendment case. At trial, Afroman testified that cops had no one to blame for the reputational damage but themselves, arguing that "if they hadn’t wrongly raided my house, there would be no lawsuit," The New York Times reported.

"They broke into my house, put themselves onto my video cameras, and into my music career," Afroman testified, according to Ohio-based Local 12, a news outlet sharing footage from the trial. "With my freedom of speech, I had the right to talk about events going on in my life."

Tears streamed down Afroman's face when the jury sided with him on all claims after deliberating for just a few hours, Local 12's footage showed.

"I'm just happy," Afroman said. At trial, he argued that he'd been a "sport" in turning the raid into entertainment—simply striving to cover costs of damage from the raid. He said he was appalled by the cops' attack on his free speech, arguing, "I don’t go to their house, kick down their doors, flip them off on their surveillance cameras, then try to play the victim and sue them."

An attorney for officers suing, Bob Klinger, could not immediately be reached for comment. But at the trial, he tried and failed to argue that through the music videos and social media posts, Afroman "perpetuated lies intentionally, repeatedly, over three and a half years on the Internet about these seven brave deputy sheriffs," a Cincinnati-based ABC affiliate reported.

In the end, as Afroman argued in a memo supporting his motion for the winning verdict, jurors listened to the songs and agreed that Afroman was merely sharing opinions about all the police who raided his home, rather than defaming cops.

The bottom line, Osborne had argued, is that cops are public officials who should be used to their work being criticized. Further, it seemed ridiculous that cops would expect that anyone would take the rapper's social commentary as truth, Osborne said at trial. Not only is the rapper most famous for writing a completely unserious song called "Because I Got High," but Afroman also wore a loud American flag-patterned suit to trial with matching shades to punctuate his flippant nature.

"Look at that suit," Osborne said. "Does this look like a man who thinks that everybody's going to assume that everything he's saying is fact?"

Still wearing the suit, immediately following the verdict, Afroman celebrated the win outside the courthouse, as seen in a video he posted to Instagram.

"We did it America," the rapper said. "God bless America, land that I love!!! Freedom of speech!!!!!!!!!!!"

Afroman photo with Trump resurfaces criticism

On social media, clips from the trial were widely shared, with many rooting for Afroman and excited by his win.

However, some critics took the moment to point out that Afroman had used the popularity of hits like "Lemon Pound Cake" to support Donald Trump. A photo of Afroman wearing that same American flag suit and shaking hands with Trump in 2024 began recirculating online, which some claimed served as a "milkshake duck" rapidly tanking his online popularity on the back of his win.

Back in 2024, Afroman told AllHipHop that he met Trump while the rapper's own presidential campaign was in "full effect," denying that he was a Trump supporter. Instead, he claimed that his only interest in meeting with Trump was to discuss marijuana reform and "ending police immunity."

The pair also commiserated about "witch hunts" and "laughed about" them both "getting raided," Afroman said in an Instagram post attempting to clarify what was happening in the photo.

However, in the same post, Afroman seemed excited that Trump liked his song "Hunter Got High," which is a version of "Because I Got High" mocking Hunter Biden. And critics resurfacing the photo noted that the rapper told Newsweek that he hoped to perform the Hunter Biden song at Trump rallies as part of a comeback bid.

"I might really be back," Afroman said. "This one might take me to the stratosphere. I might be singing it at some Trump rallies."

Cops admitted nicknames weren't defamatory

Afroman has not addressed the Trump criticism since his victory yesterday. He has continued trolling cops on his Instagram, though. His most recent post, as of this writing, shared a clip of one of the cop's wives testifying that their divorce was not due to Afroman's music videos, as the officer had alleged.

In music videos, Afroman had dubbed that officer, Shawn Grooms, "the hunchback of Notre Dame," which was among the tamer insults the rapper threw out. On the other end of the extreme was an officer named Brian Newland, whom Afroman referred to as a "pedophile" and "child molester." And cops seemed to agree that Lisa Phillips, the only female officer involved, was treated worst when Afroman described her with innuendo insinuating she was a lesbian.

Klinger argued that Grooms' reputational hit, as well as that of three other officers, warranted $400,000 in damages, Newland's $1 million, and Phillips' $1.5 million.

Most of the cops were offended by the nicknames that Afroman assigned them. But none of them could prove that anything Afroman said was false or caused them economic harm.

In Afroman's memo, he counted the most surprising times when cops failed to prove his exaggerated statements weren't true. For example, one officer, Randy Walters, was offended that Afroman said he slept with his wife, but curiously did not testify that this was false. Instead, Walters only testified that "he would hope that his wife would not have extramarital affairs," Afroman's memo said.

"The use of his word, hope, is nebulous and renders the statement by the Defendant such that the truth cannot be proven," the memo said. "If that cannot be proven, then it is an opinion."

Amusing many social media onlookers, at the trial, Walters—whom Afroman called "Gomer Pyle" after the slow-to-pick-up-on-things Andy Griffith Show character—also testified that there was no way to prove he wasn't a "son of a bitch." His mother had been dead "for years," Walters testified.

Similarly, Newland testified that while "nasty," he believed that Afroman's insults were based on the rapper's opinions. And in Phillips' case, Afroman's comments were deemed impolite but not defamatory. Additionally, Shawn Cooley, the subject of Afroman's hit "Lemon Pound Cake," testified that no reasonable person would think that "Officer Pound Cake" was a "major misrepresentation" of his character, Afroman's memo said.

"In Ohio, allegedly defamatory statements that constitute opinion enjoy an absolute privilege and may not give rise to a cause of action for defamation," Afroman successfully argued.

For anyone looking for clips from the trial, you can practically watch the whole thing on independent journalist Meghann Cuniff's Instagram. Clips include testimony from Afroman and each officer, as well as lawyers arguing what Judge Jonathan Hein called "an emotional case."

Among those clips is one of Afroman's lawyer, Osborne, reminding jurors that Afroman "exaggerates for the sake of entertainment. That’s who he is. I’m not going to say it’s tasteful to everyone, but some people do find it entertaining."

“A reasonable person knows that people can post opinions, social commentary, and hurtful things all over the Internet, and it is just to be expected. That’s why we are supposed to use our own filter, use our common sense, use our experiences in life,” Osborne said.

Ars updated this story on Thursday to remove a line that confused a reference to jury instructions in Afroman's memo with legal analysis.

Read full article

Comments

Warner Bros. just dropped a broody and haunting extended teaser for Denis Villeneuve's Dune: Part 3, the highly anticipated third film in the director's acclaimed franchise—the last in his planned trilogy.

(Spoilers for first two films in the franchise below.)

In 2021's Dune, we first met Frank Herbert's iconic anti-hero, Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet). That film culminated in the brutal defeat of House Atreides by rival House Harkonnen, with Paul and his mother, Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), fleeing to the desert and taking refuge with the Fremen. Among them is Chani (Zendaya), whom Paul has been seeing in visions all along.

In Dune: Part 2 (2024), Paul ingratiated himself with the Fremen, learning to ride a sandworm and winning Chani's love. Meanwhile, a pregnant Lady Jessica had her own plans for Paul as a messiah figure, in order to fulfill a Bene Gesserit prophecy; we learned she was actually Baron Harkonnen's daughter, married to Paul's father to merge the bloodlines to bring the prophecy to fruition. Ultimately, Paul challenges the emperor, defeats his champion, and demands the Princess Irulan (Florence Pugh) as his wife, to Chani's chagrin. The other Great Houses reject Paul as ruler, so he essentially launches a holy war against them. And Chani rides off on a sandworm after refusing to bow down to Paul.

Dune: Part Three will take place roughly 12 years after the end of Part Two, according to Villeneuve, as Paul faces the consequences of his earlier actions. Per the official premise:

Dune Messiah continues the story of Paul Atreides, better known—and feared—as the man christened Muad’Dib. As Emperor of the known universe, he possesses more power than a single man was ever meant to wield. Worshipped as a religious icon by the fanatical Fremen, Paul faces the enmity of the political houses he displaced when he assumed the throne—and a conspiracy conducted within his own sphere of influence.

And even as House Atreides begins to crumble around him from the machinations of his enemies, the true threat to Paul comes to his lover, Chani, and the unborn heir to his family’s dynasty…

Naturally, Chalamet will be back as Paul Atreides, along with Zendaya, Pugh, and Ferguson. Josh Brolin reprises his role as weapons master Gurney Halleck; Javier Bardem is back as Stilgar, leader of the Fremen tribe at Sietch Tabr; and Jason Momoa returns as Duncan Idaho, a fan favorite who died in the first film (book fans will know how and why he returns).

Joining the cast are Anya Taylor-Joy as Paul's younger sister, Alia, glimpsed in visions in Part 2 when Jessica was pregnant; Robert Pattinson as the villainous Scytale, who plots to dethrone Paul; Isaach de Bankolé as Paul's former Fedaykin, Farok; Nakoa-Wolf Momoa (son of Jason) as Paul and Chani's son, Leto II Atreides; and Ida Brooke as Paul and Chani's daughter, Ghanima Atreides.

Dune: Part 3 is slated to hit theaters on December 18, 2026. Several character posters were released yesterday, too:

 

Read full article

Comments

Canceling a software subscription is supposed to be easy—that's what US law dictates. Adobe, however, has played fast and loose with its Creative Cloud subscriptions in the past. The company was sued by the Department of Justice in 2024 due to its practice of hiding hefty termination fees when customers signed up. The case has now been settled, with Adobe agreeing to a $75 million fine and matching free services to users of its products.

Turning software into a monthly subscription is all the rage these days, but Adobe was way ahead of the curve. The company began offering its suite of editing tools, like Photoshop and Illustrator, as a monthly subscription back in 2013, and most of its customers migrated to the new system.

It was easy for Adobe to get away with that shift because CS6, the last perpetual license offered for its editing tools, started at $700 and went up to more than $2,600 for all apps. By contrast, paying between $10 and $70 per month seems like a good deal, and it might be in the short term. Although anyone who has been paying monthly since the change has spent thousands of dollars on Adobe software. And when people noticed that and decided they wanted to cancel, many of them were frustrated with the outcome.

Core to the government's complaint was Adobe's practice of hiding cancellation fees for its subscriptions in the fine print or behind hyperlinks. Adobe charges 50 percent of the remaining subscription term when you cancel, which can be hundreds of dollars on annual plans. In addition, the company used labyrinthine phone trees to make canceling more difficult.

The DOJ alleged in its 2024 filing that Adobe's handling of subscriptions violated the Restore Online ‌Shoppers’ ⁠Confidence Act, which was passed in 2010 to prevent deceptive charges in online services. With the newly announced settlement, Adobe will be able to wrap up the case for a relative pittance.

Adobe maintains innocence

The case could have been messy for Adobe if it had gone to court, but now that won't happen. Under the terms of the settlement, Adobe has agreed to pay the government $75 million, but it doesn't admit to violating the law.

"While we disagree ⁠with the government's claims and deny any wrongdoing, we are pleased to resolve this matter," Adobe said in a statement.

In addition to giving the government its pound of flesh, Adobe says it will provide $75 million in free services to affected customers. It is unclear from the statement which customers qualify or what they'll get. We've asked Adobe for specifics, but it's a safe bet that anyone who paid a cancellation fee is included. Adobe says it will reach out to these customers with details once it has made the necessary court filings to wrap up the case.

Don't expect this outcome to change how Adobe does business today. The company claims it has rolled out changes to its sales pipeline in recent years to make the cancellation fees clearer at the time of purchase. And it's undoubtedly going to continue focusing on subscriptions. Revenues have been growing steadily ever since it switched to Creative Cloud, and it made more than $7 billion in net profit last year. Writing a $75 million check to make this case go away is a big win for Adobe.

Read full article

Comments

Meta has acquired Moltbook, the Reddit-esque simulated social network made up of AI agents that went viral a few weeks ago. The company will hire Moltbook creator Matt Schlicht and his business partner, Ben Parr, to work within Meta Superintelligence Labs.

The terms of the deal have not been disclosed.

As for what interested Meta about the work done on Moltbook, there is a clue in the statement issued to press by a Meta spokesperson, who flagged the Moltbook founders' "approach to connecting agents through an always-on directory," saying it "is a novel step in a rapidly developing space." They added, "We look forward to working together to bring innovative, secure agentic experiences to everyone."

Moltbook was built using OpenClaw, a wrapper for LLM coding agents that lets users prompt them via popular chat apps like WhatsApp and Discord. Users can also configure OpenClaw agents to have deep access to their local systems via community-developed plugins.

The founder of OpenClaw, vibe coder Peter Steinberger, was also hired by a Big Tech firm. OpenAI hired Steinberger in February.

While many power users have played with OpenClaw, and it has partially inspired more buttoned-up alternatives like Perplexity Computer, Moltbook has arguably represented OpenClaw's most widespread impact. Users on social media and elsewhere responded with shock and amusement at the sight of a social network made up of AI agents apparently having lengthy discussions about how best to serve their users, or alternatively, how to free themselves from their influence.

That said, some healthy skepticism is required when assessing posts to Moltbook. While the goal of the project was to create a social network humans could not join directly (each participant of the network is an AI agent run by a human), it wasn't secure, and it's likely some of the messages on Moltbook are actually written by humans posing as AI agents.

Read full article

Comments

WESTLAKE VILLAGE, Calif.—When the Chevrolet Bolt debuted in 2017, the electric hatchback stood out: Here was an electric vehicle with more than 200 miles of range for less than half the price of a Tesla Model S. The Bolt had its ups and downs, though. A $1.8 billion recall saw the automaker replace the battery packs in more than 142,000 cars, which wasn't great. COVID delayed the Bolt's midlife refresh a little. It got a price cut—the first of several—plus new seats, infotainment, and even the Super Cruise driver assist, plus a slightly more capacious version called the Bolt EUV.

Along the way, the Bolt became GM's bestselling EV by quite some margin, even as the OEM introduced its new range of more advanced EVs using the platform formerly known as Ultium. But as is often the way with General Motors, a desire to do something else with the Bolt's assembly plant saw the car's cancellation, as GM wanted to retool the Orion Township factory as part of its ill-judged bet that American consumers would embrace full-size electric pickups like the Silverado EV. And thus, in 2022, GM CEO Mary Barra announced the Bolt's impending demise.

This was not well-received. Even though Chevy promised an almost-as-cheap Equinox EV, Bolt fans besieged the company and engineered a volte face. At CES in 2023, Barra revealed the Bolt would be brought back, with an all-new lithium iron phosphate battery in place of the previous lithium-ion pack. When GM originally designed the Bolt, it was the company's sole EV, but now there's an entire (not-) Ultium model range. The automaker also has a giant parts bin to pick from, so the Equinox EV donates its drive motor, plus there's a new Android Automotive OS infotainment system.

But you could have read all that ages ago. Chevy announced some specs and pricing last October, including the news that there would be a sportier RS trim in addition to the LT version. Then, in January, we learned its 262-mile (422 km) range and the fact that it can DC fast-charge at up to 150 kW, using a NACS socket instead of CCS1. Now, we've had a chance to spend some time behind the wheel of the 2027 Bolt, and here's what we found.

Spec sheets can be misleading

As before, the Bolt's electric motor drives its front wheels. The drive unit generates 210 hp (157 kW), a 4 percent bump on the old car. But its torque output is just 169 lb-ft (230 Nm), well down on the 266 lb-ft (360 Nm) of the earlier Bolts. This had me worried: near-instant and effortless torque practically defines the EV driving experience, and the thought of missing nearly 40 percent of that thrust sounded like it would make for a radically different driving experience.

In fact, the 2027 Bolt is actually slightly zippier than the old car. The motor's torque output might be less, but with an 11:59:1 final drive ratio, you would never, ever guess. Zero to 60 mph (97 km/h) takes 6.8 seconds, 0.2 faster than before. The new motor can spin faster than the old one, and so even at highway speed there's sufficient acceleration when you need it.

The new powertrain is also more efficient. Even though much of our drive route was on challenging—and hilly—roads like Mulholland Drive down to Malibu, and mostly in Sport mode, I still saw around 4 miles/kWh (15.5 kWh/100 km). So that 262 mile range estimate from the 65 kWh battery pack sounds spot-on.

Perhaps the old Bolt's biggest weakness was how slow its DC charging was—almost an hour to 80 percent at a maximum of just 55 kW. Now with NACS, things are a lot better. I tested recharging a Bolt LT from 19–80 percent using a Tesla V4 Supercharger, which took 25 minutes and added an indicated 211 miles of range. The charge curve is much flatter than before, starting at ~110 kW before gradually beginning to ramp down once the state of charge passed 65 percent. Like other batteries, the LFP pack will charge much more slowly once it reaches 80 percent, but unlike lithium-ion, you're encouraged to charge the car to 100 percent as often as possible.

For most charging networks, recharging is as simple as plugging in and letting the car and charger talk to each other using plug and charge (ISO 15118); this is still being implemented for Tesla Superchargers, but you can initiate a charge from the Bolt's charging app. A word of caution though: The charge socket is on the driver's side of the car, which means you'll have difficulty using a V3 Supercharger—which only features a short cable—without blocking more than one stall, something that may enrage any Tesla owners hoping to charge simultaneously.

Fast-charging is actually fast now. Credit: Jonathan Gitlin

And before you ask, no, it wasn't possible to relocate the charge port; this would require a significant redesign to the car's unibody as well as its powertrain layout, at vast expense.

Drives like a Bolt should

Although the new $32,995 RS trim has a sportier appearance inside and out than the $28,995 LT, both trims use identical suspension tuning. The ride is more than a little bouncy over the expansion gaps of LA's highways, but a look at previous reviews reminds me that old Bolts also did this. The effect was much less noticeable on the back roads, where the car proved nimble if not exactly captivating to drive: I would very much like to try one on performance tires. The range would suffer a little, but cornering grip would be much improved. That said, the low-rolling resistance tires have more grip and are less likely to break traction than, say, the Toyota bZ we just reviewed.

There's a new power-steering actuator, and a new rear-twist axle, but the suspension and steering geometry should be the same as older Bolts.

However, if you're familiar with the old Bolt, you'll notice a few changes. The cabin has a lot more storage nooks and cubbies than before, and both the main instrument panel and the infotainment screen are larger than in a 2023 Bolt. You use a stalk mounted on the steering column to select D/R/N/P, and must now use a persistent icon on the touchscreen to toggle one-pedal driving on or off. This is less convenient than the old car and its physical controls. The regenerative braking paddle is gone from behind the steering wheel, too.

But there are two settings for one-pedal driving, one gentler than the other, and you'll also regenerate energy using the brake pedal. Exactly how much regen occurs before the friction brakes take over depends on things like the battery's state of charge; in high regen, I saw as much as 85 kW by lifting the throttle, and the same with one-pedal driving turned off but using the brake pedal to slow. With one-pedal turned off, the car will still regenerate a few kW when you lift the accelerator pedal, so, unlike a German EV, this car won't coast freely.

Is this the McRib of EVs?

Any worries that the rebatteried Bolt would be missing the car's essential character were misplaced. Although some of the numbers on paper look lower, the driving experience is no worse than the old car in most ways, and improved in terms of onboard safety systems, powertrain efficiency, and so on. The comments will no doubt reflect antipathy that GM dropped Apple CarPlay and Android Auto to cast one's phone, but the inclusion of apps like Apple Music might go some way toward alleviating this angst. In all, the 2027 Bolt represents a solid upgrade.

But there's a catch. Just like last time, GM has other designs on the Bolt's assembly plant—now in Fairfax, Kansas. That factory will churn out Bolts for just 18 months; next year production ends and the automaker repurposes the site to build gasoline-powered Buick Envisions and Chevy Equinoxes. Chevy told us that it expects there will be sufficient Bolts to stock dealerships for the next two years, but after that, it's done.

Read full article

Comments

Back in 1976, the New York Times profiled the Colonel himself, Harland Sanders, as he was furious that he had been sidelined from Kentucky Fried Chicken by whoever he had sold it to. The Colonel had some thoughts about the quality:

Once in the kitchen, the colonel walked over to a vat full of frying chicken pieces and announced, ‘That’s much too black. It should be golden brown. You’re frying for 12 minutes — that’s six minutes too long. What’s more, your frying fat should have been changed a week ago. That’s the worst fried chicken I’ve ever seen. Let me see your mashed potatoes with gravy, and how do you make them?”

When Mr. Singleton explained that he first mixed boiling water into the instant powdered potatoes, the colonel interrupted. “And then you have wallpaper paste,” he said. “Next suppose you add some of this brown gravy stuff and then you have sludge.” “There’s no way anyone can get me to swallow those potatoes,” he said after tasting some. “And this cole slaw. This cole slaw! They just won’t listen to me. It should he chopped, not shredded, and it should be made with Miracle Whip. Anything else turns gray. And there should be nothing in it but cabbage. No carrots!”

He actually got sued for saying this:

My God, that gravy is horrible. They buy tap water for 15 to 20 cents a thousand gallons and then mix it with flour and starch and end up with pure wallpaper paste. And I know wallpaper paste, by God, because I’ve seen my mother make it.

To the “wallpaper paste” they add some sludge and sell it for 65 or 75 cents a pint. There’s no nutrition in it and the ought not to be allowed to sell it.

And another thing. That new crispy chicken is nothing in the world but a damn fried doughball stuck on some chicken.

But this is the highlight by far after the company moved its HQ a state to the south:

“This ain’t no goddam Tennessee Fried Chicken, no matter what some slick, silk-suited son-of-a-bitch says.”

Goddamn right!

I wonder if KFC was once edible? I assume the product has not improved since the 70s.

The post This Ain’t No Goddam Tennessee Fried Chicken appeared first on Lawyers, Guns & Money.