Monthly Archives: March 2011

Noise and Fury

So how you guys doing? Good? You folks comfy enough? Grab a chair, pull up some floor. Me, I’m doing swell. Just dandy. Got a short story from last year I’m retouching, chapter by chapter. Also reviving some old songs for posting at my Glass Door site.

To do that, I revived my old desktop PC and am trying to remaster some of that music for posting, and lemme tell ya, it’s not so easy. I honestly can’t see how I got anything done with that old piece of shit. But I got it working, sorta, enough to tweak some music. I’ll have to wire the PC into my actual recording gear to record the audio, since the computer is too old and ill-maintained to record its own audio without dropping clicks and pops into the recorded waveform. [frowny-face]

Actually, the only thing I really need that PC for is the Yamaha S-YXG50 synth software which was written so long ago that it won’t work on modern systems. I have a few songs whose sound depends on that software, so as soon as I record those tracks, I can transfer all the files, mothball the PC and move on. (If none of that made sense to you, just lay down on the floor and close your eyes until the confused feeling passes.)

Let’s see…what else? Ah, yes, against all better judgment and wisdom, I signed a 6-month lease extension on my apartment. It’s an OK place, but my neighbors suck. I’ve reached a point where I don’t care how much noise I make, because obviously the McStompy’s upstairs and the pasty-white soul screamer next door don’t care, either. Last weekend, I cranked up the bass box on my sound system and turned on the music just to prove to them how thin the walls are. Maybe they got the message, I don’t know. But there I am, living there for another 6 months. Here’s hoping I don’t lose my job anytime soon, eh?

Speaking of job, one of the managers in my department, a decent guy who’d been there for most of his professional career, gave his two-week notice. I was chatting about it with another coworker, and apparently he’s leaving the company to pursue a new career. Which I was fine with until I found out what he’s looking at doing: going into researching Creation Science. Yeah. Let that sink in for a minute.

Now, I can’t fault someone for having a passion. Hell, can’t fault someone for making a conscious decision to change their life, lifestyle, and career to explore their faith. But Creation Science? Why not study UFOs or something else instead? It’s just as factual. It just gets my goat, a perfectly sane, technical man deciding to look for data to support his religious claims. It’s like a drunk man using a lamp post more for support than illumination.

Even when I was a dyed-in-the-cloth Southern Baptist evangelical youth, I could still find a way to reconcile the creation mythos with evolutionary science. They fit perfectly. Did I think the earth was 6000 years old? No way. I knew the universe was eons old, broader than consciousness, and that it could still fit in God’s pocket. I carried with me the understanding that the physical processes that govern the universe are the tools that god used to create everything. It made complete sense that all life on Earth would start from the simplest forms and evolve up to the high forms we exhibit. That was the real design. Even our nation’s founding fathers, who were die-hard Deists, held this opinion. He wrote the rules, and we eventually happened, not the other way around.

I just cannot fathom the leap of logic necessary to believe that dinosaur bones were placed inside the ground by the Devil, with permission from God, in order to test our faith in the Creator.

Glass Door, Propped Open

It is with profound joy that I announce that after so many wasted years of missing the boat, my music site is up, live and functional, and that you can now hear some of my music. About damned time.

“Where is it?” you ask? Well, it’s where you would expect to find that great music from the band Glass Door:  glassdoor.net!

I still have a few loose ends to tie up, but there it is. So far, I have two full songs and one “found sound” posted. I’m even going so far as to make cover images for each song I post — in some respects, I’m more proud of the images than the songs, but I love all of it anyway. Call me Pygmalion.

What do you think, sirs?

Nightmeh

Had a dream the other night. Was sitting down to dinner with a group of people. Someone called for a prayer, and the man at the head of the table began the invocation. I did not bow my head or close my eyes. Neither did the praying man; he was staring right at me.

I hate my dreams.

And Now a Message From Our Sponsors From Beyond

So I get this mysterious, spooky voicemail today. It sounded like a mountain lion purring and breathing through a garden hose, or like an alien wraith lurking for its living prey. Deep and breathy. And the vocalizations went on for six minutes. I just knew one of my friends had to be pulling a prank on me, but who?

So tonight I picked up a 2.5mm adapter for my phone’s earphone jack and hooked it up to my studio rig. I clicked record and dialed my voicemail, recording all of the message. It went on and on and on, and was deep and ghostly. And the playback made even less sense. What could this be? What’s it all mean?

And then I attempt to decode the message. Played with the speed and pitch of the playback. It comes together at that point. It’s a human, obviously slowed waaaay down. When I adjust it to near normal speed and pitch, it’s intelligible. And do you know what it was? A telemarketing ad. FROM MY WIRELESS CARRIER. For a music service they’re starting. What the fuck? So now it’s obvious that their robodialer screwed up while playing back the celebrity-voiced pre-recorded ad. And all this work…for that.

So here’s to you, Cricket Wireless. FUCK YOU, Cricket. Fuck you.