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Q3811580 Português
Em relação a letras e fonemas, é correto afirmar que a palavra “quiabos” contém:
Alternativas
Q3811579 Português
Em relação à palavra “abóbora”, assinale a alternativa correta. 
Alternativas
Q3811578 Português
Qual é a sílaba tônica da palavra “jabuticaba”?
Alternativas
Q3811577 Português
Qual das palavras s abaixo apresenta encontro vocálico? 
Alternativas
Q3811576 Português
Qual das alternativas a seguir apresenta a correta separação silábica da palavra “vitaminas”? 
Alternativas
Q3811558 Redação Oficial
A forma de comunicação mais rápida e eficiente de transmitir as informações importantes para o trabalho no nosso dia a dia, dentro da instituição, é 
Alternativas
Q3811488 Português
Índio eu não sou

-

Não me chame de "índio" porque
Esse nome nunca me pertenceu
Nem como apelido quero levar
Um erro que Colombo cometeu.

-

Por um erro de rota
Colombo em meu solo desembarcou
E no desejo de às Índias chegar
Com o nome de "índio" me apelidou.

-

Esse nome me traz muita dor
Uma bala em meu peito transpassou
Meu grito na mata ecoou
Meu sangue na terra jorrou.

-

Chegou tarde, eu já estava aqui
Caravela aportou bem ali
Eu vi "homem branco" subir
Na minha Uka me escondi.

-

Ele veio sem permissão
Com a cruz e a espada na mão
Nos seus olhos, uma missão
Dizimar para a civilização.

-

"Índio" eu não sou.
Sou Kambeba, sou Tembé
Sou kokama, sou Sataré
Sou Guarani, sou Arawaté
Sou tikuna, sou Suruí
Sou Tupinambá, sou Pataxó
Sou Terena, sou Tukano
Resisto com raça e fé.

No verso "E no desejo de às Índias chegar", observa-se a presença da estrutura "de às Índias chegar", introduzida pela preposição "de" e formada por um verbo no infinitivo. Considerando a dependência sintática dessa construção em relação ao termo "desejo" e o valor semântico que ela exerce no período, assinale a alternativa que classifica CORRETAMENTE essa oração subordinada reduzida.
Alternativas
Q3811487 Português
Índio eu não sou

-

Não me chame de "índio" porque
Esse nome nunca me pertenceu
Nem como apelido quero levar
Um erro que Colombo cometeu.

-

Por um erro de rota
Colombo em meu solo desembarcou
E no desejo de às Índias chegar
Com o nome de "índio" me apelidou.

-

Esse nome me traz muita dor
Uma bala em meu peito transpassou
Meu grito na mata ecoou
Meu sangue na terra jorrou.

-

Chegou tarde, eu já estava aqui
Caravela aportou bem ali
Eu vi "homem branco" subir
Na minha Uka me escondi.

-

Ele veio sem permissão
Com a cruz e a espada na mão
Nos seus olhos, uma missão
Dizimar para a civilização.

-

"Índio" eu não sou.
Sou Kambeba, sou Tembé
Sou kokama, sou Sataré
Sou Guarani, sou Arawaté
Sou tikuna, sou Suruí
Sou Tupinambá, sou Pataxó
Sou Terena, sou Tukano
Resisto com raça e fé.

Em relação ao verso "Índio eu não sou", observe que o termo "índio" foi deslocado para a posição inicial da sentença, o que confere destaque expressivo à palavra e reforça o tom de negação identitária presente no poema. Considerando esse recurso de ordem e o papel sintático desempenhado pelo termo no enunciado, assinale a alternativa CORRETA quanto à sua função sintática.
Alternativas
Q3811486 Português
Índio eu não sou

-

Não me chame de "índio" porque
Esse nome nunca me pertenceu
Nem como apelido quero levar
Um erro que Colombo cometeu.

-

Por um erro de rota
Colombo em meu solo desembarcou
E no desejo de às Índias chegar
Com o nome de "índio" me apelidou.

-

Esse nome me traz muita dor
Uma bala em meu peito transpassou
Meu grito na mata ecoou
Meu sangue na terra jorrou.

-

Chegou tarde, eu já estava aqui
Caravela aportou bem ali
Eu vi "homem branco" subir
Na minha Uka me escondi.

-

Ele veio sem permissão
Com a cruz e a espada na mão
Nos seus olhos, uma missão
Dizimar para a civilização.

-

"Índio" eu não sou.
Sou Kambeba, sou Tembé
Sou kokama, sou Sataré
Sou Guarani, sou Arawaté
Sou tikuna, sou Suruí
Sou Tupinambá, sou Pataxó
Sou Terena, sou Tukano
Resisto com raça e fé.

No verso "Caravela aportou bem ali", as palavras "bem" e "ali" acrescentam informações que localizam de modo preciso o acontecimento expresso pelo verbo "aportou". Considerando a classe gramatical de cada termo e o papel que desempenham na estrutura da oração, assinale a alternativa que apresenta CORRETAMENTE a classificação e a função sintática de "bem" e "ali", respectivamente. 
Alternativas
Q3811485 Português
Índio eu não sou

-

Não me chame de "índio" porque
Esse nome nunca me pertenceu
Nem como apelido quero levar
Um erro que Colombo cometeu.

-

Por um erro de rota
Colombo em meu solo desembarcou
E no desejo de às Índias chegar
Com o nome de "índio" me apelidou.

-

Esse nome me traz muita dor
Uma bala em meu peito transpassou
Meu grito na mata ecoou
Meu sangue na terra jorrou.

-

Chegou tarde, eu já estava aqui
Caravela aportou bem ali
Eu vi "homem branco" subir
Na minha Uka me escondi.

-

Ele veio sem permissão
Com a cruz e a espada na mão
Nos seus olhos, uma missão
Dizimar para a civilização.

-

"Índio" eu não sou.
Sou Kambeba, sou Tembé
Sou kokama, sou Sataré
Sou Guarani, sou Arawaté
Sou tikuna, sou Suruí
Sou Tupinambá, sou Pataxó
Sou Terena, sou Tukano
Resisto com raça e fé.

No verso "Com a cruz e a espada na mão / Nos seus olhos, uma missão", a justaposição de símbolos religiosos e bélicos representa a contradição entre fé e violência. Essa oposição reforça a crítica da autora ao processo de colonização e catequese forçada. Tal figura expressiva é conhecida como: 
Alternativas
Q3811484 Português
Índio eu não sou

-

Não me chame de "índio" porque
Esse nome nunca me pertenceu
Nem como apelido quero levar
Um erro que Colombo cometeu.

-

Por um erro de rota
Colombo em meu solo desembarcou
E no desejo de às Índias chegar
Com o nome de "índio" me apelidou.

-

Esse nome me traz muita dor
Uma bala em meu peito transpassou
Meu grito na mata ecoou
Meu sangue na terra jorrou.

-

Chegou tarde, eu já estava aqui
Caravela aportou bem ali
Eu vi "homem branco" subir
Na minha Uka me escondi.

-

Ele veio sem permissão
Com a cruz e a espada na mão
Nos seus olhos, uma missão
Dizimar para a civilização.

-

"Índio" eu não sou.
Sou Kambeba, sou Tembé
Sou kokama, sou Sataré
Sou Guarani, sou Arawaté
Sou tikuna, sou Suruí
Sou Tupinambá, sou Pataxó
Sou Terena, sou Tukano
Resisto com raça e fé.

No trecho "Por um erro de rota / Colombo em meu solo desembarcou", observa-se que o eu poético atribui à chegada do colonizador um motivo equivocado. Considerando o valor semântico do segmento "Por um erro de rota", identifique o tipo de relação que ele estabelece com o restante do enunciado.
Alternativas
Q3811483 Português
Índio eu não sou

-

Não me chame de "índio" porque
Esse nome nunca me pertenceu
Nem como apelido quero levar
Um erro que Colombo cometeu.

-

Por um erro de rota
Colombo em meu solo desembarcou
E no desejo de às Índias chegar
Com o nome de "índio" me apelidou.

-

Esse nome me traz muita dor
Uma bala em meu peito transpassou
Meu grito na mata ecoou
Meu sangue na terra jorrou.

-

Chegou tarde, eu já estava aqui
Caravela aportou bem ali
Eu vi "homem branco" subir
Na minha Uka me escondi.

-

Ele veio sem permissão
Com a cruz e a espada na mão
Nos seus olhos, uma missão
Dizimar para a civilização.

-

"Índio" eu não sou.
Sou Kambeba, sou Tembé
Sou kokama, sou Sataré
Sou Guarani, sou Arawaté
Sou tikuna, sou Suruí
Sou Tupinambá, sou Pataxó
Sou Terena, sou Tukano
Resisto com raça e fé.

No verso "E no desejo de às Índias chegar", observe o emprego do verbo "chegar". Considerando a regência verbal e a natureza do verbo quanto à sua transitividade, assinale a alternativa que apresenta CORRETAMENTE a classificação do verbo "chegar" nesse contexto. 
Alternativas
Q3811482 Português
Índio eu não sou

-

Não me chame de "índio" porque
Esse nome nunca me pertenceu
Nem como apelido quero levar
Um erro que Colombo cometeu.

-

Por um erro de rota
Colombo em meu solo desembarcou
E no desejo de às Índias chegar
Com o nome de "índio" me apelidou.

-

Esse nome me traz muita dor
Uma bala em meu peito transpassou
Meu grito na mata ecoou
Meu sangue na terra jorrou.

-

Chegou tarde, eu já estava aqui
Caravela aportou bem ali
Eu vi "homem branco" subir
Na minha Uka me escondi.

-

Ele veio sem permissão
Com a cruz e a espada na mão
Nos seus olhos, uma missão
Dizimar para a civilização.

-

"Índio" eu não sou.
Sou Kambeba, sou Tembé
Sou kokama, sou Sataré
Sou Guarani, sou Arawaté
Sou tikuna, sou Suruí
Sou Tupinambá, sou Pataxó
Sou Terena, sou Tukano
Resisto com raça e fé.

Em "E no desejo de às Índias chegar / Com o nome de 'índio' me apelidou", o uso do craseado 'às' se justifica por:
Alternativas
Q3811481 Português
Índio eu não sou

-

Não me chame de "índio" porque
Esse nome nunca me pertenceu
Nem como apelido quero levar
Um erro que Colombo cometeu.

-

Por um erro de rota
Colombo em meu solo desembarcou
E no desejo de às Índias chegar
Com o nome de "índio" me apelidou.

-

Esse nome me traz muita dor
Uma bala em meu peito transpassou
Meu grito na mata ecoou
Meu sangue na terra jorrou.

-

Chegou tarde, eu já estava aqui
Caravela aportou bem ali
Eu vi "homem branco" subir
Na minha Uka me escondi.

-

Ele veio sem permissão
Com a cruz e a espada na mão
Nos seus olhos, uma missão
Dizimar para a civilização.

-

"Índio" eu não sou.
Sou Kambeba, sou Tembé
Sou kokama, sou Sataré
Sou Guarani, sou Arawaté
Sou tikuna, sou Suruí
Sou Tupinambá, sou Pataxó
Sou Terena, sou Tukano
Resisto com raça e fé.

No verso "Chegou tarde, eu já estava aqui", observa-se o uso da vírgula separando dois enunciados de sentido completo, ambos com verbos e sujeitos próprios. Considerando a estrutura sintática do período e o valor da pontuação nesse contexto, assinale a alternativa que justifica CORRETAMENTE o emprego da vírgula. 
Alternativas
Q3811480 Português
Índio eu não sou

-

Não me chame de "índio" porque
Esse nome nunca me pertenceu
Nem como apelido quero levar
Um erro que Colombo cometeu.

-

Por um erro de rota
Colombo em meu solo desembarcou
E no desejo de às Índias chegar
Com o nome de "índio" me apelidou.

-

Esse nome me traz muita dor
Uma bala em meu peito transpassou
Meu grito na mata ecoou
Meu sangue na terra jorrou.

-

Chegou tarde, eu já estava aqui
Caravela aportou bem ali
Eu vi "homem branco" subir
Na minha Uka me escondi.

-

Ele veio sem permissão
Com a cruz e a espada na mão
Nos seus olhos, uma missão
Dizimar para a civilização.

-

"Índio" eu não sou.
Sou Kambeba, sou Tembé
Sou kokama, sou Sataré
Sou Guarani, sou Arawaté
Sou tikuna, sou Suruí
Sou Tupinambá, sou Pataxó
Sou Terena, sou Tukano
Resisto com raça e fé.

A expressão "Índio eu não sou" é repetida de maneira explícita e implícita ao longo do poema. Do ponto de vista discursivo, essa repetição cumpre a função de:
Alternativas
Q3811479 Português
Índio eu não sou

-

Não me chame de "índio" porque
Esse nome nunca me pertenceu
Nem como apelido quero levar
Um erro que Colombo cometeu.

-

Por um erro de rota
Colombo em meu solo desembarcou
E no desejo de às Índias chegar
Com o nome de "índio" me apelidou.

-

Esse nome me traz muita dor
Uma bala em meu peito transpassou
Meu grito na mata ecoou
Meu sangue na terra jorrou.

-

Chegou tarde, eu já estava aqui
Caravela aportou bem ali
Eu vi "homem branco" subir
Na minha Uka me escondi.

-

Ele veio sem permissão
Com a cruz e a espada na mão
Nos seus olhos, uma missão
Dizimar para a civilização.

-

"Índio" eu não sou.
Sou Kambeba, sou Tembé
Sou kokama, sou Sataré
Sou Guarani, sou Arawaté
Sou tikuna, sou Suruí
Sou Tupinambá, sou Pataxó
Sou Terena, sou Tukano
Resisto com raça e fé.

O poema "Índio eu não sou" apresenta um eu lírico que contesta uma designação imposta por outrem. Considerando o sentido global do texto, é CORRETO afirmar que a intenção comunicativa principal deste texto literário é:
Alternativas
Q3811478 Inglês
Think you actually own all those movies you’ve been buying digitally? Think again


    A possible class-action lawsuit against Amazon Prime, one of the world’s biggest platforms for streaming film and television, has raised an odd question: what does it mean to buy something?

    The proposed lawsuit, which was filed last week in federal court and first reported by the Hollywood Reporter, alleges that Prime’s practice of offering users the chance to “buy” (as opposed to “rent”) content is inherently deceptive. The suit argues that buying something implies perpetual possession – but that Amazon, like many other streaming services, is really just selling its customers viewing licenses that can be revoked at any time, in keeping with fine print that most customers do not read or understand.

    Regardless of whether the lawsuit is ultimately successful, it speaks to a real problem in an age when people access films, television series, music and video games through fickle online platforms: impermanence. The advent of streaming promised a world of digital riches in which we could access libraries of our favorite content whenever we wanted. It hasn’t exactly worked out that way.

   Many movie fans are already familiar with a certain scenario. Let’s say that you are seized, this Friday night, by an urge to rewatch one of your favorite films, Double Indemnity. (You are a popular and sociable person – charismatic, attractive, with many friends – but feel under the weather this weekend.) If you are especially prudent, you own the film on a physical format – such as a Criterion Collection Blu-ray – but if not, you just type watch double indemnity 1944 into a search engine and see what comes up. 

    Given that beloved older films and television shows are increasingly difficult to find on streaming platforms, you will be relieved to see the film listed on any of the services you subscribe to, such as Netflix, Hulu or HBO Max. When you click on the links, however, there is a high chance that one of those dreaded landing pages appears: “REMIND ME WHEN THIS IS AVAILABLE” or “THIS TITLE IS NOT CURRENTLY AVAILABLE IN YOUR COUNTRY.”

    There are ways to watch the film that don’t involve paying, but let’s say that you’re a scrupulously honest person. Fortunately, Amazon Prime has Double Indemnity available on demand: you can rent the movie, for 48 hours of playback, for $3.79 – or “buy” it for $14.99. The second option is more expensive, but if it is truly one of your favorite movies you may decide to buy it so you can watch it again whenever you want. And in just a couple of clicks – faster than Barbara Stanwyck can light a cigarette in the darkened living room of a California villa – the Paramount logo is blooming on your television screen. Not bad, right?

    The problem is that you aren’t downloading the movie, to own and watch forever; you’re just getting access to it on Amazon’s servers – a right that only lasts as long as Amazon also has access to the film, which depends on capricious licensing agreements that vary from title to title. A month or five years from now, that license may expire – and the movie will disappear from your Amazon library. Yet the $14.99 you paid does not reappear in your pocket.

    If you’re a film buff, like me, you may already have heard of things like this happening. In 2018, users of iTunes who had purchased titles for their digital libraries were unhappy to learn that the company had deleted some of them without telling them. Last year, customers of Funimation, an anime streaming service that was acquired by another company, discovered that the titles they had purchased from Funimation would not be ported over to the new platform. Video game and music fans have reported similar frustrations.

If online chatter is any indication, a class-action lawsuit against Prime would have some takers. Reacting to the news of the suit, someone on Reddit described buying the director’s cut of Aliens from Prime; after watching it for 10 years, “I went to my purchased movies in the Amazon app and it is now gone. No explanation and no recourse.”

    “Happened to me,” another person wrote. “Bought the original Battlestar Galactica series. Now it’s gone.”

    (Amazon did not respond to my request for comment at the time of publication.)

    Disappointment with streaming’s limitations are a major reason that many pop culture fans have, in recent years, returned to a format long thought dying: physical media. Like vinyl records, which have had an unexpected renaissance, film discs and other seemingly old-school technologies have been embraced in recent years by a small but passionate segment of film and TV buffs. Earlier this year, the first new physical video store in many years opened in New York.

    In particular, movie fans have rediscovered Blu-rays, which debuted in 2006 as a higher-definition successor to DVDs, as well as their new and even higher-definition sibling, the 4K UHD, which has become the gold-standard for “home cinema” enthusiasts. I’m one of those physical-media fans. I have about 400 movies on disc, mostly Blu-rays, hidden in a cabinet beneath my TV. In the age of streaming, some of my friends think I’m deranged.

    But the films look great, don’t need the internet to watch and – most importantly – never disappear.


From: https://www.theguardian.com/2025/aug/27/
Because the author is a fan of physical media in the age of streamings, he admits being considered
Alternativas
Q3811477 Inglês
Think you actually own all those movies you’ve been buying digitally? Think again


    A possible class-action lawsuit against Amazon Prime, one of the world’s biggest platforms for streaming film and television, has raised an odd question: what does it mean to buy something?

    The proposed lawsuit, which was filed last week in federal court and first reported by the Hollywood Reporter, alleges that Prime’s practice of offering users the chance to “buy” (as opposed to “rent”) content is inherently deceptive. The suit argues that buying something implies perpetual possession – but that Amazon, like many other streaming services, is really just selling its customers viewing licenses that can be revoked at any time, in keeping with fine print that most customers do not read or understand.

    Regardless of whether the lawsuit is ultimately successful, it speaks to a real problem in an age when people access films, television series, music and video games through fickle online platforms: impermanence. The advent of streaming promised a world of digital riches in which we could access libraries of our favorite content whenever we wanted. It hasn’t exactly worked out that way.

   Many movie fans are already familiar with a certain scenario. Let’s say that you are seized, this Friday night, by an urge to rewatch one of your favorite films, Double Indemnity. (You are a popular and sociable person – charismatic, attractive, with many friends – but feel under the weather this weekend.) If you are especially prudent, you own the film on a physical format – such as a Criterion Collection Blu-ray – but if not, you just type watch double indemnity 1944 into a search engine and see what comes up. 

    Given that beloved older films and television shows are increasingly difficult to find on streaming platforms, you will be relieved to see the film listed on any of the services you subscribe to, such as Netflix, Hulu or HBO Max. When you click on the links, however, there is a high chance that one of those dreaded landing pages appears: “REMIND ME WHEN THIS IS AVAILABLE” or “THIS TITLE IS NOT CURRENTLY AVAILABLE IN YOUR COUNTRY.”

    There are ways to watch the film that don’t involve paying, but let’s say that you’re a scrupulously honest person. Fortunately, Amazon Prime has Double Indemnity available on demand: you can rent the movie, for 48 hours of playback, for $3.79 – or “buy” it for $14.99. The second option is more expensive, but if it is truly one of your favorite movies you may decide to buy it so you can watch it again whenever you want. And in just a couple of clicks – faster than Barbara Stanwyck can light a cigarette in the darkened living room of a California villa – the Paramount logo is blooming on your television screen. Not bad, right?

    The problem is that you aren’t downloading the movie, to own and watch forever; you’re just getting access to it on Amazon’s servers – a right that only lasts as long as Amazon also has access to the film, which depends on capricious licensing agreements that vary from title to title. A month or five years from now, that license may expire – and the movie will disappear from your Amazon library. Yet the $14.99 you paid does not reappear in your pocket.

    If you’re a film buff, like me, you may already have heard of things like this happening. In 2018, users of iTunes who had purchased titles for their digital libraries were unhappy to learn that the company had deleted some of them without telling them. Last year, customers of Funimation, an anime streaming service that was acquired by another company, discovered that the titles they had purchased from Funimation would not be ported over to the new platform. Video game and music fans have reported similar frustrations.

If online chatter is any indication, a class-action lawsuit against Prime would have some takers. Reacting to the news of the suit, someone on Reddit described buying the director’s cut of Aliens from Prime; after watching it for 10 years, “I went to my purchased movies in the Amazon app and it is now gone. No explanation and no recourse.”

    “Happened to me,” another person wrote. “Bought the original Battlestar Galactica series. Now it’s gone.”

    (Amazon did not respond to my request for comment at the time of publication.)

    Disappointment with streaming’s limitations are a major reason that many pop culture fans have, in recent years, returned to a format long thought dying: physical media. Like vinyl records, which have had an unexpected renaissance, film discs and other seemingly old-school technologies have been embraced in recent years by a small but passionate segment of film and TV buffs. Earlier this year, the first new physical video store in many years opened in New York.

    In particular, movie fans have rediscovered Blu-rays, which debuted in 2006 as a higher-definition successor to DVDs, as well as their new and even higher-definition sibling, the 4K UHD, which has become the gold-standard for “home cinema” enthusiasts. I’m one of those physical-media fans. I have about 400 movies on disc, mostly Blu-rays, hidden in a cabinet beneath my TV. In the age of streaming, some of my friends think I’m deranged.

    But the films look great, don’t need the internet to watch and – most importantly – never disappear.


From: https://www.theguardian.com/2025/aug/27/
The author makes it clear that there was an attempt to elicit a comment from Amazon, which
Alternativas
Q3811476 Inglês
Think you actually own all those movies you’ve been buying digitally? Think again


    A possible class-action lawsuit against Amazon Prime, one of the world’s biggest platforms for streaming film and television, has raised an odd question: what does it mean to buy something?

    The proposed lawsuit, which was filed last week in federal court and first reported by the Hollywood Reporter, alleges that Prime’s practice of offering users the chance to “buy” (as opposed to “rent”) content is inherently deceptive. The suit argues that buying something implies perpetual possession – but that Amazon, like many other streaming services, is really just selling its customers viewing licenses that can be revoked at any time, in keeping with fine print that most customers do not read or understand.

    Regardless of whether the lawsuit is ultimately successful, it speaks to a real problem in an age when people access films, television series, music and video games through fickle online platforms: impermanence. The advent of streaming promised a world of digital riches in which we could access libraries of our favorite content whenever we wanted. It hasn’t exactly worked out that way.

   Many movie fans are already familiar with a certain scenario. Let’s say that you are seized, this Friday night, by an urge to rewatch one of your favorite films, Double Indemnity. (You are a popular and sociable person – charismatic, attractive, with many friends – but feel under the weather this weekend.) If you are especially prudent, you own the film on a physical format – such as a Criterion Collection Blu-ray – but if not, you just type watch double indemnity 1944 into a search engine and see what comes up. 

    Given that beloved older films and television shows are increasingly difficult to find on streaming platforms, you will be relieved to see the film listed on any of the services you subscribe to, such as Netflix, Hulu or HBO Max. When you click on the links, however, there is a high chance that one of those dreaded landing pages appears: “REMIND ME WHEN THIS IS AVAILABLE” or “THIS TITLE IS NOT CURRENTLY AVAILABLE IN YOUR COUNTRY.”

    There are ways to watch the film that don’t involve paying, but let’s say that you’re a scrupulously honest person. Fortunately, Amazon Prime has Double Indemnity available on demand: you can rent the movie, for 48 hours of playback, for $3.79 – or “buy” it for $14.99. The second option is more expensive, but if it is truly one of your favorite movies you may decide to buy it so you can watch it again whenever you want. And in just a couple of clicks – faster than Barbara Stanwyck can light a cigarette in the darkened living room of a California villa – the Paramount logo is blooming on your television screen. Not bad, right?

    The problem is that you aren’t downloading the movie, to own and watch forever; you’re just getting access to it on Amazon’s servers – a right that only lasts as long as Amazon also has access to the film, which depends on capricious licensing agreements that vary from title to title. A month or five years from now, that license may expire – and the movie will disappear from your Amazon library. Yet the $14.99 you paid does not reappear in your pocket.

    If you’re a film buff, like me, you may already have heard of things like this happening. In 2018, users of iTunes who had purchased titles for their digital libraries were unhappy to learn that the company had deleted some of them without telling them. Last year, customers of Funimation, an anime streaming service that was acquired by another company, discovered that the titles they had purchased from Funimation would not be ported over to the new platform. Video game and music fans have reported similar frustrations.

If online chatter is any indication, a class-action lawsuit against Prime would have some takers. Reacting to the news of the suit, someone on Reddit described buying the director’s cut of Aliens from Prime; after watching it for 10 years, “I went to my purchased movies in the Amazon app and it is now gone. No explanation and no recourse.”

    “Happened to me,” another person wrote. “Bought the original Battlestar Galactica series. Now it’s gone.”

    (Amazon did not respond to my request for comment at the time of publication.)

    Disappointment with streaming’s limitations are a major reason that many pop culture fans have, in recent years, returned to a format long thought dying: physical media. Like vinyl records, which have had an unexpected renaissance, film discs and other seemingly old-school technologies have been embraced in recent years by a small but passionate segment of film and TV buffs. Earlier this year, the first new physical video store in many years opened in New York.

    In particular, movie fans have rediscovered Blu-rays, which debuted in 2006 as a higher-definition successor to DVDs, as well as their new and even higher-definition sibling, the 4K UHD, which has become the gold-standard for “home cinema” enthusiasts. I’m one of those physical-media fans. I have about 400 movies on disc, mostly Blu-rays, hidden in a cabinet beneath my TV. In the age of streaming, some of my friends think I’m deranged.

    But the films look great, don’t need the internet to watch and – most importantly – never disappear.


From: https://www.theguardian.com/2025/aug/27/
The author of the text looked for examples of practices in the streaming platforms that were similar to what the mentioned lawsuit labels as ‘deceptive practice’ and
Alternativas
Q3811475 Inglês
Think you actually own all those movies you’ve been buying digitally? Think again


    A possible class-action lawsuit against Amazon Prime, one of the world’s biggest platforms for streaming film and television, has raised an odd question: what does it mean to buy something?

    The proposed lawsuit, which was filed last week in federal court and first reported by the Hollywood Reporter, alleges that Prime’s practice of offering users the chance to “buy” (as opposed to “rent”) content is inherently deceptive. The suit argues that buying something implies perpetual possession – but that Amazon, like many other streaming services, is really just selling its customers viewing licenses that can be revoked at any time, in keeping with fine print that most customers do not read or understand.

    Regardless of whether the lawsuit is ultimately successful, it speaks to a real problem in an age when people access films, television series, music and video games through fickle online platforms: impermanence. The advent of streaming promised a world of digital riches in which we could access libraries of our favorite content whenever we wanted. It hasn’t exactly worked out that way.

   Many movie fans are already familiar with a certain scenario. Let’s say that you are seized, this Friday night, by an urge to rewatch one of your favorite films, Double Indemnity. (You are a popular and sociable person – charismatic, attractive, with many friends – but feel under the weather this weekend.) If you are especially prudent, you own the film on a physical format – such as a Criterion Collection Blu-ray – but if not, you just type watch double indemnity 1944 into a search engine and see what comes up. 

    Given that beloved older films and television shows are increasingly difficult to find on streaming platforms, you will be relieved to see the film listed on any of the services you subscribe to, such as Netflix, Hulu or HBO Max. When you click on the links, however, there is a high chance that one of those dreaded landing pages appears: “REMIND ME WHEN THIS IS AVAILABLE” or “THIS TITLE IS NOT CURRENTLY AVAILABLE IN YOUR COUNTRY.”

    There are ways to watch the film that don’t involve paying, but let’s say that you’re a scrupulously honest person. Fortunately, Amazon Prime has Double Indemnity available on demand: you can rent the movie, for 48 hours of playback, for $3.79 – or “buy” it for $14.99. The second option is more expensive, but if it is truly one of your favorite movies you may decide to buy it so you can watch it again whenever you want. And in just a couple of clicks – faster than Barbara Stanwyck can light a cigarette in the darkened living room of a California villa – the Paramount logo is blooming on your television screen. Not bad, right?

    The problem is that you aren’t downloading the movie, to own and watch forever; you’re just getting access to it on Amazon’s servers – a right that only lasts as long as Amazon also has access to the film, which depends on capricious licensing agreements that vary from title to title. A month or five years from now, that license may expire – and the movie will disappear from your Amazon library. Yet the $14.99 you paid does not reappear in your pocket.

    If you’re a film buff, like me, you may already have heard of things like this happening. In 2018, users of iTunes who had purchased titles for their digital libraries were unhappy to learn that the company had deleted some of them without telling them. Last year, customers of Funimation, an anime streaming service that was acquired by another company, discovered that the titles they had purchased from Funimation would not be ported over to the new platform. Video game and music fans have reported similar frustrations.

If online chatter is any indication, a class-action lawsuit against Prime would have some takers. Reacting to the news of the suit, someone on Reddit described buying the director’s cut of Aliens from Prime; after watching it for 10 years, “I went to my purchased movies in the Amazon app and it is now gone. No explanation and no recourse.”

    “Happened to me,” another person wrote. “Bought the original Battlestar Galactica series. Now it’s gone.”

    (Amazon did not respond to my request for comment at the time of publication.)

    Disappointment with streaming’s limitations are a major reason that many pop culture fans have, in recent years, returned to a format long thought dying: physical media. Like vinyl records, which have had an unexpected renaissance, film discs and other seemingly old-school technologies have been embraced in recent years by a small but passionate segment of film and TV buffs. Earlier this year, the first new physical video store in many years opened in New York.

    In particular, movie fans have rediscovered Blu-rays, which debuted in 2006 as a higher-definition successor to DVDs, as well as their new and even higher-definition sibling, the 4K UHD, which has become the gold-standard for “home cinema” enthusiasts. I’m one of those physical-media fans. I have about 400 movies on disc, mostly Blu-rays, hidden in a cabinet beneath my TV. In the age of streaming, some of my friends think I’m deranged.

    But the films look great, don’t need the internet to watch and – most importantly – never disappear.


From: https://www.theguardian.com/2025/aug/27/
In the circumstance of purchasing a film from a streaming platform, in case the access to the product is interrupted, according to the text, the customer is
Alternativas
Respostas
19841: B
19842: C
19843: D
19844: A
19845: E
19846: D
19847: B
19848: B
19849: C
19850: C
19851: A
19852: C
19853: B
19854: D
19855: C
19856: D
19857: B
19858: A
19859: C
19860: C