Digital Barbarism: A Writer's Manifesto Book

I made a real effort to give this book the benefit of the doubt for as long as possible, but I found it really hard to read. I felt a desire to believe that it is propaganda created, however indirectly, by the copyright industry, but I know it probably isn't. Mark Halprin is most likely just expressing his own strong opinions.
The first chapter seemed at first to be mere whining about the effects of technology and nostalgia for a slower past, but Halprin does acknowledge that there's no turning back the clock and seems to have a notion of how people can live with the benefits of the modern world while retaining some of the richness of life that he believes many people in the modern world have lost. I was struck by how believable I found his prediction of life a decade or so in the future. I actually didn't find his depiction unappealing at all.
I skipped forward to the first mention of Lawrence Lessig, hoping that this would be a way of finding where Halprin makes his actual arguments about copyright. He did make some claims that I hadn't heard before such as that the Sony Bono copyright act had transferred some power from powerful corporations back to artists and writers by requiring copyright licenses to be returned to the original creator after some time period (like 35 years or something I think). I couldn't find any evidence that he actually addressed any of the arguments against copyright extremism by the likes of Lawrence Lessig, though, and from reading some reviews on Goodreads it seems he never did, which doesn't surprise me given the tone of the book. The part I read consisted almost entirely of sarcastic and self-righteous vitriol that I found really unpleasant to read, especially when he ridiculed arguments against copyright extremism without even providing a counterargument that I could discern. For example, he ridiculed a passage that made the distinction between physical goods (whose trade is a zero-sum game) and digital goods, which are non-rivalrous. He kept putting [sic] after zero-sum as though using this term was self-evidently preposterous.
I found it increasingly painful to read and soon gave up on it in disgust.