Mavinkurve is the star of a piece by Matt Richtel on immigration: He won an H-1B visa to work in America for Google, scored big in that company's 2004 IPO, but then fell in love with Samvita Padukone, an India-born woman who couldn't get a permit to work in the U.S. So she got a work permit in Canada, and Mavinkurve relocated to Google's Toronto office. He has to fly a lot, and boy are his arms tired!

That's the sum of the argument the article makes for liberalizing immigration rules. If it sounds weak, that's because it's almost a complete retread of an article which appeared last year in The American, the journal of the American Enterprise Institute, a pro-free-markets think tank.

The argument over liberalizing immigration is kind of stupid. Yes, on the one hand, American companies should hire more American workers. But have you met any American workers lately? Lazy and surly, the lot of them. The number of American college students studying science and engineering has been plummeting for years. Only recently have students started to figure out that studying computer science might be a good idea.

No wonder companies like Google and Microsoft want to hire people like Mavinkurve, who are genuinely excited about living in this country and writing software. So excited that they're willing to put up with any number of insults.

For example: In 2003, as a student at Harvard, the founders of ConnectU had Mavinkurve write code for their then-nascent social network. That group, which included wealthy Olympic-rower twins Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss, then brought on a kid by the name of Mark Zuckerberg to do additional work.

Next thing they knew, he'd launched a remarkably similar site called TheFacebook.com, which ConnectU's founders believed was built on their site's code. Lawsuits ensued, which Facebook settled last year for $65 million.

The Times article described Mavinkurve as having "helped lay the foundation for Facebook" — which can't possibly be true, unless the newspaper is accusing Zuckerberg of having used Mavinkurve's code in his website. Don't feel too bad for Mavinkurve, though: We hear he got a piece of the ConnectU settlement. Now if only he could get his wife a green card.

(Photo via Sanjay Mavinkurve)

The Winklevosses and Narendra, Harvard classmates of Zuckerberg, sued him after he launched Facebook, claiming he had done work for their project and then stolen code from it to start Facebook. They reached a settlement last summer in which Facebook agreed to acquire ConnectU for cash and stock — $20 million in cash and 1.25 million shares of Facebook. But then they fired their former lawyers, Quinn Emanuel, amid a contest over legal fees, the value of the settelement, and new evidence they said they'd discovered.

Based on the price Microsoft paid for its 1.6 percent stake in Facebook in the fall of 2007, the stock component of that settlement was worth $45 million. Quinn Emanuel is seeking $13 million in a contingency fee — 20 percent of the total take, which is $65 million as far as ConnectU's former lawyers are concerned.

But the appraised value of the stock last summer was far less — $11 million, based on a valuation Facebook sought for its own stock-option plan. That's $34 million of $65 million gone.

Even on that lower value for the stock, plus the cash, ConnectU's founders owed taxes. (We hear the deal was structured as a taxable acquisition.) Assuming a capital gains rate of 15 percent and a negligible cost basis for the startup, 15 percent of $31 million. That rounds up to $4.7 million.

Their lawyers want $13 million, leaving them with $2.7 million from the cash component — which they have likely already spent in legal fees.

What about those 1.25 million shares of Facebook? They are essentially worthless. If they could sell them, they would likely get $2.50 to $3 a share. But Facebook recently changed its bylaws to forbid private transfers of its stock without board approval. ConnectU's founders cannot sell them, nor can they give them to their lawyers in lieu of cash, without Facebook's okay. And it is hard to imagine a board of directors essentially controlled by Zuckerberg voting to make life easy for his college rivals. Unless Facebook sells or goes public — both unlikely prospects in the short term — ConnectU's founders have no way of realizing value from their stake. So we can discount their $11 million in notional value from the ConnectU take.

What's left: $2.7 million. Here's a chart showing how you go from $65 million to less than $3 million in four easy steps:

Which explains why the Winklevosses are dragging this thing out. After years of fighting in court, they have essentially nothing to show for their troubles. They come from a wealthy family. Their father, Howard, has a fortune from his company, Winklevoss Technologies, which makes software for analyzing pension plans. So they can afford to fight, and it's not like they need Mark Zuckerberg's money. But how else do the rich keep score?

(Photo by Krupa/AP)

Last summer, the company settled a dispute with a rival social network, ConnectU, that dates back to the founding of Facebook in CEO Mark Zuckerberg's Harvard dorm room. ConnectU's lawyers — whom the site's founders have since fired — revealed that the case was settled for $65 million in a newsletter bragging about their firm's accomplishments. And now the Associated Press has obtained a court filing which shows the exact breakdown of cash and stock Facebook used to settle the case: $20 million in cash, and 1,253,326 shares of Facebook stock.

That's no mere detail. ConnectU's ex-lawyers at Quinn Emanuel Urquhart Oliver & Hedges are pursuing legal action against ConnectU's founders — Divya Narendra and Olympic-rower twins Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss — to get them to pay $13 million. In other words, a 20 percent cut of the supposed $65 million settlement. But is the settlement really worth $65 million?

In October 2007, Microsoft paid $35.90 a share for $240 million in Facebook preferred stock, which only garnered it a 1.6 percent stake in the company. Preferred stock, the kind usually purchased by venture capitalists, have more rights and protections than common stock, which is the type owned by founders and issued to employees. And when a company is private, it's typical for preferred shares to have a higher value than common shares.

ConnectU's settlement was issued in common shares. And an appraisal Facebook conducted to value the shares it issued to employees valued the company at $3.7 billion, or $8.88 a share — making the stock part of ConnectU's payment only worth $11 million, and the total $31 million.

The uncertain value of Facebook's stock must be why ConnectU's ex-lawyers are in a dispute. If it had been paid in cash, why would they be arguing over how much the lawyers were owed? Instead of having $65 million, the Winklevosses and Narendra find themselves with $20 million in cash, a $13 million legal bill-and 1.25 million shares of Facebook that aren't worth nearly as much as they thought.

How little? An informal market for Facebook stock exists, though it's not publicly traded. Vulture investors are offering to buy shares for as little as $2.50 apiece. At that price, the company as a whole is worth $1.3 billion. That's less than Yahoo reportedly bid for the company in 2006.

And that's where Facebook could really get into trouble.

We hear that Facebook's salesforce had a series of panicked meetings last week as its salespeople tried to drum up more business. Google is actively working to steal advertisers away from the company, which has struggled to come up with new marketing products based on its users' relationships. (It does not help matters that Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg, who worked in the Clinton Administration before joining Google to run customer service, has no real sales experience, as much as she likes to claim otherwise.) Meanwhile, Facebook continues to spend money as it attracts new users; every million users Facebook adds requires approximately $1 million in new servers.

So Facebook will probably need to raise money soon, and it will have to give up a far larger percentage of the company this time-a scenario its executives have dreaded, but which they have few ways to avoid. It will likely have to make whole Microsoft and other investors who bought in at a $15 billion valuation by issuing them new shares. That will further dilute the stake owned by employees, which will hurt morale and possibly lead to defections. If it loses key salespeople and engineers, Facebook will lose further momentum. The prospect of a death spiral is very real.

Right now, Zuckerberg's problem is averting disaster. After that, he can worry about how to get Facebook's value back up to $15 billion.

The law firm of Quinn Emanuel Urquhart Oliver & Hedges included the amount of the Facebook settlement in a list of legal victories published in its January newsletter — despite having been fired last year by ConnectU's founders, who sued to have the settlement overturned.

The amount of the settlement, reportedly paid in cash and stock, had never previously been disclosed, and all parties agreed it would be kept confidential. When the Recorder, a San Francisco-based legal publication, noticed the disclosure, the firm's chairman, John Quinn, attempted to persuade a reporter not to publish the figure, citing the confidentiality agreeement.

As a Harvard student in 2003 and 2004, Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg did some programming work on ConnectU, a college-based social network, shortly before launching his own site, then known as Thefacebook.com, in February 2004. ConnectU's founders included Olympian-rower twins Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss (shirtless, above), as well as Divya Narendra, whom everyone forgets because he's not a hunky, Kennedyesque Olympian rower with a twin brother. They contend that Zuckerberg took work he did for ConnectU and used it in launching what later became Facebook. Tyler Winklevoss called Zuckerberg's actions "premeditated, well thought out, duplicitous and conniving."

The dispute between Narendra and the Winklevosses and their former lawyers is currently in arbitration; the lawyers are seeking payment of $13 million, while ConnectU's founders want the whole agreement overturned, because of new information they discovered about Mark Zuckerberg's sordid college days.

Here's a hypothetical question: Let's assume Facebook had good legal counsel, and ConnectU's founders are right to be angry at their own lawyers. What do they know about Mark Zuckerberg? And how much is information really worth? It's safe to assume that figure is far more than $65 million.

(Photo via Row2k.com)

The evidence that the two have ended their feud, which began when they were both students at Harvard and Facebook was just getting off the ground: Saverin is now listed as a company founder on Facebook's website.

There's an excellent reason for Zuckerberg to make nice with Saverin, though: Ben Mezrich, author of Bringing Down the House, is writing an account of the founding of Facebook which relies heavily on Saverin as a source. Aaron Sorkin, the West Wing creator, is already planning to adapt the book, which doesn't have a publication date yet, into a movie.

If Saverin has made up with Zuckerberg, he may not be as willing to cooperate with Mezrich. One hopes the author got his interviews done before Saverin's name went back up on Facebook. A book proposal leaked to Gawker last year has some factual errors — Zuckerberg and Saverin dined on the yacht of then-Sun Microsystems CEO Scott McNealy, who says he has never owned a boat. But even if it gets close to the truth of Facebook's origins, it will be embarrassing, since it claims that Zuckerberg and Saverin set up the website to meet girls. The feud between the founders was central to the plot.

It has been almost five years since Zuckerberg has acknowledged Saverin as having anything to do with the company, which Saverin incorporated and managed for Zuckerberg from their college dorm. According to Rolling Stone, Zuckerberg reincorporated the company and squeezed Saverin out after he accused Zuckerberg of spending company money on personal expenses:

In July, Zuckerberg and Saverin had a mysterious falling out. Zuckerberg has filed a lawsuit, claiming Saverin jeopardized the company by freezing Facebook's bank accounts. Saverin countersued, claiming that Zuckerberg never matched his $20,000 in seed money and, further, used that money for personal expenses. That summer, Zuckerberg transferred all intellectual-property rights and membership interests to a new version of the company in Delaware.

Saverin reportedly told Cameron Winklevoss, another student embroiled in a legal dispute with Zuckerberg, that Zuckerberg had "screwed him, too." Zuckerberg moved the company to Palo Alto, Calif., and raised hundreds of millions of dollars, making the company worth a notional $15 billion on paper. Saverin saw none of that.

With hard feelings seemingly over (possibly smoothed over by some cash or stock), Facebook flack Brandee Barker explains Saverin's official co-founder status this way:

We made the change recently to make sure Eduardo gets the credit and visibility he deserves for his contribution to Facebook.

That's quite a change from Facebook's official stance in 2007, when Barker herself denied on the record that Saverin cofounded Facebook, even though he was listed in the company's documents of incorporation.

Since the lawsuit centers around who did what for Facebook when, it seems absurd to think that Zuckerberg would publicly acknowledge Saverin with a lawsuit hanging over his head. Barker repeatedly refused to answer any questions about the status of the lawsuit. Saverin and his lawyers did not return inquiries. Now, with an ending that seems to have zipped Saverin's lips, will Sorkin and Mezrich have any story to tell?

Cameron and his twin brother Tyler famously sued Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg, claiming he copied the code for his site from ConnectU, a similar social network they asked him to help code while they were all students at Harvard. Facebook and ConnectU settled the lawsuit earlier this year. One wonders if Facebook's lawyers forgot to ask for the UK domain name.

Played: A twin eunich [sic] with his brother in his high school play, "ON THE WAY TO THE FORUM."

Maybe the Waspy wantrepreneurs can use some of that money from the Facebook settlement to get started as producers in Hollywood. Tip next time they get pitched by a buddy from Harvard to fund his vanity short: It will be about as likely to make any money as it will be for Zuckerberg to publicly admit that he totally ripped you two off.

The pair alleged that Harvard classmate Mark Zuckerberg stole their idea in creating Facebook, ended up settling, and then appealed over the terms of the settlement; a judge denied their request. But if their long-fought legal battle with Facebook proved anything, it's that the JFK Jr.-lite Winklevoss brothers never quit, even when everyone — including judges — thinks they should. Take that, Serbia! (Photo by Getty Images)

The news is hardly bad news for the Winklevoss brothers and ConnectU's third cofounder, Divya Narendra. Court papers say the three will get "millions" of dollars in cash as well as stock in a startup too popular with mainstream America's millennial generation to fail. (The Winklevosses were fighting the settlement after they discovered that the Facebook common stock they would receive was worth less than they supposed.) Plus, there's still that shot at gold.

Hruska noted that O'Connor's other blog, Ivygate, had called the twins "spoiled bitches that tried to lay one on the invincible Mark Zuckerberg and failed." We don't see the problem with hiring "spoiled bitches" to work at NonSociety — they'll fit right in with Allison! Had Hruska really been cutting, she'd have asked how Julia Allison's latest BFF, Randi Zuckerberg — older sister of the man the Winklevosses accused of stealing ConnectU's code for Facebook — would feel about the hire.

One would think they would have gotten a proper valuation on the shares before agreeing to take them as payment. That in itself suggests that the twins, who majored in economics at Harvard, weren't paying attention in class.

And if they have some other evidence of brains, it wasn't on display for the Globe. Their coash, Ted Nash, tries to argue that they're just strong, silent types: "Inside, everything's working all the time with them. What you see isn't what you get."

What you see, according to the Globe:

They are impossibly constructed: 6 feet 5 inches tall, with shoulders that jut out like coat hangers, their limbs wrapped in the long, strong muscles typical of rowers, their heads crowned with identical waves of light brown hair.

A photo accompanying the piece shows the two with California governor and former bodybuilder Arnold Schwarzenegger; all three have equally rippling pecs, sculling forward from their white polo shirts.

What you get, from Cameron:

One of the cool things about amateur athletics is that I think the pursuit is sort of the pursuit of excellence for nothing more than trying to be excellent. At the end of the day, going fast in the water, in its own intrinsic value, doesn't mean much more than the time that you put on the clock. But I think it's the focus and the effort and what you put in to become excellent, and the fact that it is, in some respects, meaningless, that makes it all the more interesting. We're getting a lot out of it, but it's not like an NBA championship, or something like that. We're trying to be good at something for the sake of being good.

Sartre would be proud. Tyler's contribution:

"I think people get caught up in what's the value of rowing — what does it do for you? — and that's just totally missing the larger picture.... The way it shook out, we ended up in the pair. We thought it was a good fit for us... If you miss a practice, you pay. It's a direct correlation. You see it. It's impossible to not be hit over the head with that reality.... Everybody counts on every stroke.

At that last bit, Cameron nodded eloquently. And a stereotype held firm.

(Photo by Reuters)